#i will admit it was partially my fault the incident happened

[batter-sempai]

I really want to draw Undertale art but have been struggling with it due to something that happened earlier this year. Something that happened left a bad taste in my mouth towards Undertale and I sometimes still feel hurt about it.

It has nothing to do with the game itself, just something that happened in a group and I still feel the effects of it. I don't want to elaborate on it more here.

It just, really sucks, because I still love Undertale but I struggle to draw it nowadays. Seeing fanart hurts me sometimes too. That's why Undertale fanart from me has been so sparse this year.

[shuadotcom]

Crush on You | HJS

❄ Summary: Joshua hates the idea of you being all alone for winter break so he wants to surprise you.

❄ Pairing: Joshua x GN!Reader

❄ Genres & AUs: Fluff, friends to lovers au, college au

❄ Rating: PG

❄ Warnings: None just Joshua being the sweetest

❄ Words: 3.3k

❄ Note: First fic of 2023! Big thank you to @toikiii​ for reading this over for me! This is an old fic of mine that I’ve been meaning to get around to rewriting when I was feeling especially soft. My brain simply would not rest and I literally couldn’t work on any other wip until I got some of these Joshua feelings out. The swiftness at which he shot up my bias list since last year is unfair because I didn’t ask to be this down bad for him, yet here I am.

I told myself I’d start working on my Seventeen wips in the new year and here we are - soft hours for Joshua are open forever!

Being broke during winter break sucks. Being broke during winter break and alone sucks even more. Being broke during winter break and being alone and being in a whole different country sucks the most.

You plan on buying your plane ticket to go home for the break early on. You tell yourself over and over again that you’re going to get it months ahead of time. Of course what you plan and what actually happens are two different things.

September is when you’re going to get the round-trip ticket. If you get it out of the way three months in advance, you won’t have to worry about doing anything last minute or having to pay more as the day grows closer. You have the money in your account and as soon as you finish your homework for the week, you’ll sit down, get the ticket, and plan the trip.

Unfortunately, you make the fatal mistake of allowing all of your friends to squeeze into your dorm room to celebrate the coming weekend. Thanks to the half-full bottle of soju that spilled all over your laptop, you learn two things that day; one is to never let a group of college boys drink excessive amounts of alcohol in your dorm room. The second thing is to never let a drunk Kwon Soonyoung anywhere near your expensive things ever again. Ever.

October rolls around and after buying a new computer and making sure Soonyoung knows that he’s indebted to you for basically the rest of his life, you’re back to saving up again. That’s short-lived though when you leave your backpack, which just so happens to have most of your textbooks in it, on the train.

This time you mostly blame Seungkwan. There’s a new restaurant opening in Gangnam that he really wants to try and everyone else is either busy or doesn’t want to go. He has to bribe you with a free meal, but you ultimately agree.

The problem is, he gets so caught up in trying things and gushing over the food that you miss your train back to campus, meaning you’ll likely be late for curfew. He pays the bill and the two of you sprint to the train to catch the next one. Once you reach your stop, you have to push through the abnormally crowded train passengers to get out, and in the process, your backpack is forgotten on the seat you and Seungkwan shared and you don’t realize that your bag isn’t slung over either of your shoulders until the train is long gone. While, yes you blame the incident on your forgetfulness, Seungkwan had told you that he'd carry your backpack and then didn’t so it’s still partially his fault.

November is your fault, which you can admit. Dragging along as many of your thirteen closest friends as will go with you to a SHINee pop-up shop in Busan means more planning and money than you account for. At the time all you have on your mind is getting your hands on as many limited edition fan items as possible, but once you’re faced with the double-digit number in your bank account, irresponsibility and guilt settle heavily on your shoulders.

December brings on tests and projects almost nonstop which barely leaves enough time for you to sleep and eat, so your mind is on school and school alone. You’ve seen the holiday decorations and heard plenty of people talking about the upcoming break, but your homework takes precedence over anything else.

After months of excuse after excuse, and you simply forgetting, here you are now; alone while all of your friends have already gone home for break, most of them only having to hop on a train to get there. Barely anyone is on campus at all and the few students that did stay back are unfamiliar to you so you choose the solitude of your own room for the next week.

Your family doesn’t have the funds to get you a ticket, so your financial irresponsibility is your problem and yours alone. Of course, your friends offer to pay for your ticket home, which when you decline, their next suggestion is to let you go home with one of them, but you turn them all down on that offer too. You want them to enjoy their time with their families and not have to worry about their foreign friend tagging awkwardly along.

You regret your decision just a little bit as you trek through the freshly fallen snow to the bus stop. The fact that the school's cafeteria would be closed with most of the staff gone, hadn't occurred to you either, which is why you found yourself in the small tteokbokki place about fifteen minutes away from school on New Year’s eve.

You’re in the middle of grumpily stuffing your face full of rice cakes when your phone rings on the table. After glancing at the contact name and photo, you quickly swallow the food in your mouth before swiping your finger across the screen to answer the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Is that any way to greet your lovely friend?” A chuckle comes through the line making you scoff while simultaneously trying to ignore your rapid heartbeat.

“You're Joshua, you don't count.”

“Are you saying if I was Jihoon or Jeonghan you would've answered nicer?!” He gasps in faux offense.

“I don't know, maybe. Neither of them has hit me in the face with a door you know,” you taunt, trying not to laugh. You’ll never let him live down the fact that your first time meeting was due to him accidentally smacking you in the face with the door to your shared math class.

“How long are you gonna keep bringing that up?! I said I was sorry!” Joshua lets out a deep sigh and you can practically hear him sulking over the phone. “Anyway, where are you?”

“Tteokbokki,” you simply answer, not needing to explain where since he’ll know “Why?”

“Go back to your room.”

“What?”

“I sent you something and you have to hurry back, like, now.”

“Bu-”

“I'm serious you have to go now. I’ll time you and if you aren't there in less than twenty minutes, I'm sending it back.”

“You can’t just unsend a mailed gift!”

The sound of the dial tone is his reply.

You usually aren’t one to listen to people demanding you to do things. You can admit to being pretty stubborn and petty at times and you can proudly say no if you didn't want to do something.

Well, unless the one telling you what to do was Joshua Hong.

You did a flawless job (in your opinion) of hiding the fact that you’ve, more or less, fallen for one of your best friends. All of your male friends were handsome and fun to be around, but there is something about Joshua that you can’t put your finger on, but it makes you feel so many things for him. His sweet smiles always make your heart practically beat out of your chest. His laughter makes you weak in the knees; the sound is like your favorite song. Anytime you sit close to him, you find yourself daydreaming of being more than friends, the urge to hold his hand always at the forefront of your mind.

Obviously, you haven’t told a single soul about this and you plan to keep it that way. The last thing you need is to disrupt the dynamic of your newfound family with a silly little crush, but you still can’t help the giddy feeling you get around him or the way that you tend to do nearly anything he asks of you.

Today is no expectation as you promptly stand up, throw away your trash, and beeline out of the restaurant and to the bus stop to go back to campus.

With your boots caked in snow, palms sweaty, and breathing labored from fast-walking to get here, you’re back at your building and rushing into your room. Upon stepping inside, you instantly note that it looks different than the way you left it.

Your walls, which are usually covered in posters, now have sparkly, silver stars hanging haphazardly around the room. There’s a string of blinking fairy lights hung up on the ceiling, a few feet above your head and there’s a candle burning that smells strongly of sugar cookies. Sitting on your desk is a small artificial Christmas tree complete with rainbow-blinking lights and a little gold star on the top. Your eyes only scan these things briefly before they land on the man sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bed. His phone is next to him, playing a soft R&B song that you can’t name, but it sounds nice. He’s wearing a red and white sweater and a glittery ‘Happy New Year’ headband. Joshua’s wide, bright smile completes the ensemble.

“Surprise!” Joshua bounces off your bed and throws his arms in the air.

You’re still standing in the doorway, unsure of what to even say. A jumble of things runs through your mind, but the only thing you manage to get out is, “How'd you even get those lights on the ceiling? You’re not that tall.”

Joshua throws his head back and laughs in response. “I show up here when I'm supposed to be at home and turn your room into what looks like the holidays threw up in it, and that's what you say to me?”

As if a switch is flipped, you snap out of your daze and kick your soggy shoes off, tossing your coat on the back of your desk chair and plopping down on the edge of your bed.

“Okay then, why are you not in California and how did you do this?” You try your best not to sound as giddy as you feel and ignore the somersaults your stomach is doing under your sweater.

“Well, as you know I did go home.”

“Yes, we all facetimed for Christmas I’m aware.”

“Don’t interrupt!” He playfully scolds, and it makes your face heat up. “As I was saying, I went home, but I was still thinking about you here alone and I just couldn’t stop imagining you sitting here with no one to celebrate any of the holidays with and I hated it. So, I bought a plane ticket and got back here this morning to surprise you. I actually didn’t know if you’d be in your room or not, but when I came by you were already gone so I let myself in and decided this was a better surprise than showing up with the decorations in my arms and making you put them up with me. Worked pretty well I'd say.” Joshua pats himself on the back and admires his work with a pleased grin.

“Okay… but why?”

“Why what?” Joshua sits on the bed next to you, your body going rigid. You try to create some distance between the two of you, the usual butterflies in your stomach going insane.

“Why did you go through the trouble of setting all of this up and leaving your family? During the holidays of all time.”

Joshua's face is suddenly serious as he turns towards you. “Because I know you. I know when you're unhappy, even when you try and hide it. You've been unhappy all month and I could tell. When you’re sad about something you get weirdly quiet all the time, whether you notice or not. You also get more agitated than usual and you stare off into space a lot.” He scoots closer to you ever so carefully. “We've known each other for two years so I've had plenty of time to pick up little things about you. I probably know more about you than you think.” Joshua shrugs and glances away from you. His tone has been casual, but you don’t miss the blush that spreads over his face.

“So… you ditched your family early to come back to school during break and spent your time and money on decorations for my room because you wanted me to not be unhappy?”

“Well, I mean you're my friend, obviously.” His face is still turned away from you, but the strain in his voice is noticeable. Seeing Joshua act so flustered gives you a boost of unexpected confidence, so you decide to see how far you can push this conversation. Admitting that you have a crush on him terrifies you to no end, but maybe you can gauge his feelings.

“But I'm also friends with Mingyu and Chan and they didn't go out of their way to do this for me.”

“Yeah, but they're not clever enough to think of doing this. And they're also nowhere near as nice as I am.”

“What about Wonwoo? He's pretty smart. And Seungcheol is actually the sweetest man I've ever met. If anyone would've planned all of this, it would've been him,” you say matter-of-factly.

Joshua finally turns to look at you then, clearly offended.

“What do you mean?! I’m very sweet! How about that time I brought you all of your homework and let you copy my lecture notes that whole week you were sick! And the time last year that I surprised you with EXID tickets for your birthday! And let us not forget all the food I’ve made and bought you when you have cravings! I’m so nice I don't know how you stand it! Seungcheol sucks." He puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a pout forming on his perfect lips.

You have to turn your head and change the giggle you nearly let out into a cough.

“Well yeah, but Seungcheol always compliments me. He also makes sure that when he gets coffee for himself before our Tuesday morning class, that he brings me a caramel latte since he knows it’s my favorite. You've never brought me anything before our class.”

Joshua’s brown eyes stare into yours as you talk, his jaw clenching in annoyance, but you keep talking. “Oh! And he always holds doors open for me. Let's not forget what happened the last time you and a door were anywhere near me.”

“Not this again -” He groans out through gritted teeth.

“And, Seungcheol also makes sure any restaurants we go have plenty of nut-free options for my allergy and -” Joshua grabs your waist, tugging you forward and sending you falling against his chest. When you look up at him and your eyes meet, he hesitates for only a second before bringing his lips to meet yours.

He moves his hands up to cup your face and turns his head, aligning your lips at a better angle. Your fingers grip the front of his sweater, hands bunching up the fabric.

Kissing Joshua Hong is only something that you dream about and keep to yourself, but this moment, right now with him, is better than any scenario your brain has conjured up on its own.

The two of you lose track of time, nothing mattering except how soft Joshua’s lips are and how good he smells, and how warm his hands on you are.

It isn’t until you need to breathe do both of you pull back slowly, neither of you really wanting to do so. Once your eyes flutter open, they widen, the realization of what just happened hitting you. Joshua on the other hand looks much more relaxed - relieved even.

“I can’t believe you kissed me,” you breathe out, almost in a whisper, afraid that if you’re too loud you’ll wake up from what you’re still convinced may be a dream.

“I can’t believe you kissed me back.” The two of you share a quiet laugh.

“Is that why you came back to do all of this for me?”

Joshua gives you a look that very much feels like a non-verbal ‘duh!’ “I thought it was obvious honestly. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I first met you.”

“With my bloody nose and all, huh?”

His pretty face twists in agony at your teasing. “You’re going to make me apologize for the rest of my life about the door huh?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Our kids are going to ask how we met and you’re going to tell them that their father nearly knocked you out and had to rush you to the campus infirmary and how for the rest of the day I stalked you around school to make sure you didn’t randomly pass out because I gave you brain damage.”

You chuckle at his dramatics, telling your heart to stop trying to leap out of your chest at the idea of kids and a future with Joshua. You’ve been more than friends for less than an hour at least - you have got to calm down.

“Oh, before I forget, no more talking about Seungcheol like that anymore, okay? And I'm going to tell him not to bring you lattes in the morning because I'm going to do it.”

“But your classes on Tuesdays don’t start until eleven.”

“Guess I'll just have to get up early and meet you then. I’m going to be nicer than Seungcheol can ever hope to be. You’re mine now so no one can be nicer to you than me.”

“Whatever you say, Shua.” You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a giddy smile.

“Good. Now that that's settled, let’s pack a bag for you.” Joshua hops off of the bed and drags your suitcase out from under your bed.

“What? Why?”

“You wouldn’t let me buy you a plane ticket back home, so you're coming home with me,” he says as he bounds over to your closet. Just as you open your mouth to object, he puts a hand up. “You're not going to spend the rest of the break here alone. I got a round-trip ticket for myself and one for you too. The flight leaves tomorrow morning, so we should get your stuff ready now.”

Crossing your arms, you watch him casually look through your clothes. “And what if I didn’t like you back? You didn’t even know that I felt the same way about you.”

He only shrugs. “Honestly? I didn’t plan that far ahead. I just wanted to get to you so you weren’t lonely anymore and I’d figure it out from there.” He emerges with an armful of your sweaters, beginning to neatly fold them and set them in your open suitcase. “But now I don’t have to vanish off the face of the planet due to embarrassment and a broken heart which is good because I told my parents I was bringing you back. My mom is super excited to meet you.”

The thought of going home with your friends was awkward to you which is why you turned everyone down. The thought of going home with your used-to-be-friend-who-is-now-your-boyfriend makes you just as nervous, if not more, but even so, you don’t object as you join Joshua in packing your things and set your bag by your door for the morning.

The two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling, something you never want to stop doing with him as long as you live. When the countdown to midnight starts, you watch on your laptop as a new station counts down and as soon as midnight hits, Joshua’s pulling you into another kiss, this one just as magical as the first.

Your lips are still tingling when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

“Happy New Year, Shua.”

Sleep comes next for both of you, Joshua mentioning that the flight is pretty early and that you need your rest before dealing with the chaos of the airport. He rambles a little as you fall asleep, going on about wanting to take you to all his favorite places back home. Just hearing the excitement in his voice helps you decide that maybe visiting his family wouldn't be so bad. Especially if he keeps kissing you the way he does and looking at you with those soft, sparkling eyes. Hell, if he asked you to fly to the moon with him right now, you’ll likely say yes without a second thought and not regret a single thing. Not as long as you’re with him.

[miiilowo]

What do you think William and Michael’s relationship was like before Evan died?

I always thought of them having a good relationship before that, and William feeling betrayed by Michael “murdering” Evan.

im gonna put these into one since theyre related :3

I am a firm believer in the fact william ADORED his kids. it seems like a fair leap to make that he'd hate them since hes, you know, a child murderer, but there is soooooooooooo much evidence to contradict it and its genuinely one of my favorite things about him. as such, i do think that, when it comes to michael specifically, he used to love him too! most of this is headcanon, though i do have reasons for some of it, and especially the belief he loved them.

Regarding michael though, at MOST, it would've been being just...Kind of irritated with him. If you've got a kid whos kind of an annoying prick and an asshole, youre not gonna like them 100% of the time, but that doesnt mean youre going to hate them, either. It's also important to note that Mike is the oldest; He's been around the longest. He was Williams first kid.

I havent thought too much about their relationship before evan and elizabeth came along, but i certainly don't think it would be bad in any way. William likes kids! He likes entertaining kids! He likes to entertain, in general; Hes a very theatric individual. It's what he centered his entire life around for a long time, and it's not a stretch to say he would be delighted to have a kid of his own, you know? Before the whole bite of 83 incident, he was coasting. He was not the man we know him to be now.

As time goes on, though, I think it would be a sort of situation where Michael "resents" William for kind of being...Absent. For not paying as much attention to him as he used to. He's very, VERY obsessed with his work, and taking into account how mike is your standard asshole teenager, i dont think its a stretch to believe he'd hate how he's never around and use that against him in his head; Not only that, but he has two younger siblings, who are probably getting a lot more attention because they require it. Thats angst fuel, baby!!!!!!!!! God knows SOMETHING was wrong with that boy and its not the same shit thats wrong with william

Post evan-crunching, I do think he would resent michael. I dont think he would LIKE that he resents him, but i think he would nonetheless. It would be...Very complicated. He'd know its not his fault, but its definitely his fault, right? It wasn't on purpose, but he did do it on purpose, you know? He did it, but he didn't mean to. But he did. Its kind of hard to forgive someone for something like that.

Though, I know Williams character, and i know he...Doesn't like to admit to his faults. (And even if he does admit to them, he tends to embrace them and see them as a good thing.) Due to this, I can see him deflecting any and all blame onto michael & henry (because he was the better engineer at this time and mostly responsible for the animatronics), rather than the fact he wasnt there to prevent it from happening like he probably should have been + allowed michael to continue bullying evan in general.

Instead of being consumed by the thought that, perhaps, if he had stepped in sooner, this wouldn't have happened, he WOULD press that blame onto mike. he would grow to resent him over time. It doesn't help that, in my personal interpretation of him, the whole reason william started his whole child murder escapade was because he wanted to figure out how to bring evan back; he just kind of lost the thread along the way. always been a bit silly, regardless.

While its obvious that william fucking hates mike later on in the timeline, i think that may be partially because the whole 'wholly blaming michael for evans death' thing could easily turn into 'wholly blaming michael for everything that went wrong'. if we do choose to believe that he started killing in an effort to figure out how to bring his son back, that means michael wouldve been the first domino. the reason he started killing, the reason he built the funtimes, the reason elizabeth died (whom he also loved very much; see circus baby), the reason henry no longer wanted to associate with him, the reason he lost everything. his lifes work. his passions. his entire family. the reason he died. the reason hes stuck inside springtrap. the reason hes eternally suffering. if it werent for michael killing evan, none of this wouldve happened.

its not michaels fault that william ruined his own life, and i think, deep down, thats something he knows, but its not something he wants to acknowledge. not after believing it for so long.

anyway before he died i think they had family game nights

[lucyfer06]

ski duo fic

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Narrator: omnipresent.

Date: after chapter 30.

Time: 05:17.

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The night was quiet in the real world and on Alan's PC all the sticks were sleeping except for the chief engineer.

Yelloe looked helplessly at the ceiling and her intrusive thoughts.

Everyone was too calm after the almost end of Minecraft and their lives... Again.

First; The time they met Orange, Alan eliminated them but when she passed they just went back home. She had to admit it was hard to trust them both after that, but over the months they saw each other less as strangers and more like family.

And then, the attack of the red hollowhead (which they later discovered was The Dark Lord) in which they died again but somehow they revived and none of the 5 know how, they assumed that it was Alan who cured them but he only appeared when they came back, as far as they know, it was pure luck.

Not to mention the incident with the command blocks. But that was partially her fault.

Ah, the guilt, a feeling that she was used to, many things happened because of her, the lucky blocks, the textures, falling for King's lies and how to forget it, losing the staff when they had already won the fight.

She hated feeling this incompetent. She wanted to do more but she always ended up ruining it.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

Blue got up as usual an hour before the sun.

She loved her friends and everything, but silence was something that was rarely found in the place and she was going to take advantage of it.

Or that was her intention because she left her room and heard crying coming from Yellow's room.

Oh no, she wasn't going to let her friend/almost somewhat/it's complicated cry alone... But there was a reason she isolated herself in the first place, she always tended to distrust people even after years there were things she didn't like talking to others except Blue.

Like the fact that she had total amnesia before she was 12 and her first memory  is feeling like her entire body is, in her own words, disassembled and reassembled before waking up in a nearby forest where the bluenette used to live.

The cries continued to sound, Blue shook her head, not thinking about the past, she needed to focus on the present.

She looked out the door and what had been tears before became a panic attack.

-Hey, little star, look at me- the tallest one entered the room and knelt next to the blonde -breathe with me okay?-

The younger one matched her breathing with the older one and after a few minutes she calmed down.

"I-I'm sorry Blue." Yellow stuttered.

"What are you sorry for?" Blue asked.

"I-if it hadn't been for me everyone would be safe. Green w-wouldn't have death anxiety, Red wouldn't have been possessed and Orange wouldn't be worried about us being separated." the blonde cried.

Even if the bluenette was surprised about that, this had already happened before, and like every panic attack that used unfounded fears, she took care of overthrowing her fears and settled on the bed to hug her -Hey, that's not true, Green's death was partially the fault of his and Orange's competitiveness, that narcoleptic's concern is everyone's fault in general and he possessed Red for something foreign to us and to you." he recited while caressing the minor's hair.

"B-but when we went to the village and King showed up I-."

"And I was the one who got us into that to begin with." she interrupted.

The room was silent for a moment before Blue continued.

"My obsession with the netherwart made me fall into the witch's trap, it was I who began to venture into the nether without warning, even thanks to me we met purple- her smile faded in the end -I'm not going to deny it, you committed mistakes just like me and everyone here but you always learned from them, and that you can do now."

"But I can't just ignore what happened and pretend to be fine n-I can't, no, I don't want to-."

"Forget it?" She finished.

The youngest nodded and felt how the tears threatened to come out again.

"I'm not saying that you forget it, it's okay to cry about it but it's not worth staying stuck in the past, if that were the case, Orange wouldn't have that father-son relationship that he has with Alan, even though they don't want to accept it." that comment caused a laughter in yellow "or green and purple started dating "secretly" which they hide in a horrible way." she exclaimed.

"Ha, I thought she was the only one who noticed it." she said, amused.

"The violet bracelet or "the spider bite" on the neck?" the eldest girl asked as they both began to laugh.

"The past can mark us but never define us, and anyone who says otherwise will earn an arrow in the eye from me." Blue threatened.

"I think I understand it but it's... difficult to abandon that mentality."

A silence filled the bedroom.

The bluenette turned to see the time. 05:43.

...she was going to do it now.

"Dress in something nice and comfortable." she said to get out of bed and approach the door.

"But... I... What?" Yellow exclaimed confused.

"I'll wait for you downstairs in 10." the loudest ordered before leaving.

ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ

The blonde did not understand what happened, from one moment to the next she was crying and the next she was being led to who knows where blindfolded with her hair tie. In winter.

Minimum if she put on comfortable clothes, some loose brown pants, a cream-colored t-shirt with one of her favorite mustard-colored sweaters.

"Can you tell me where we are going?" she asked.

"Nope" Blue responded simply.

But wherever they went had to be pretty because she had seen before she left that she was wearing a dark blue sweatshirt with a simple white jean that looked beautiful on her... Not that she wasn't normally that way.

"Could you at least give me a clue?" she tried.

"Mmm it's in Minecraft and you're going to love it." she said leaving the doubt in the air "ah! And be careful with the stairs."

Indeed there was an ascending level so the ojiambar woman held on more tightly to the arm of her companion.

They climbed for a moment and Blue forced him to let go of her hand.

"Stay here, I need to do one last thing." she announced before footsteps could be heard walking away from her.

Yellow listened as a cloth fell and arranged a block? She couldn't say it exactly.

"Okay, you can take off the blindfold." the blonde simply lifted the ribbon up to adjust her hair and she had to focus her eyes to understand what she saw.

She was in a small tower with an oak floor, a music player next to the stairs, a dome decorated with glass of various colors and with nothing more than a lantern on top right in the center.

"This is..." the blonde began.

"An observatory!" Blue finished. "I was going to show it to you on Christmas Eve and as a Christmas gift, but it finished sooner than expected. Oh and with king's help (thanks to purp convincing him and with a lot of begging from me) I added a command block so he can switch to a transparent glass if you want to see the stars!"

The oldest pulled a lever and the glass changed to lose its color, when she raised it again it returned to normal.

"Do you like it?" I asked a little shyly.

"What if I like it? I love it!" Yellow responded excitedly, hugging her opponent.

They sat on the floor and spent a few minutes talking about nothing and everything until the expected time arrived; 05:56.

Blue got up and put a record in the player and offered Yellow his hand.

"Can you grant me this piece?" Blue asked.

"What?" the other asked, amused.

"Please, how long has it been since we danced together?" he insisted.

"We never did it." I say.

"Exactly, it's a good time to start."

Yellow took her hand and the moment Blue lifted her up, the first verse began.

Maybe, it's the way you say my name

Maybe, it's the way you play your game

But it′s so good, I've never known anybody like you

They began a slow and somewhat clumsy waltz, the eldest one passed her left hand along her back and with her right she gently grabbed the younger one's waist.

But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

The opposite woman put her right hand on the arm of her companion and the other rested on her shoulder.

The chorus began to play.

Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine

And I see forever in your eyes

I feel okay when I see you smile, smile

Wishing on dandelions all of the time

Praying to God that one day you'll be mine

Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time

They walked around the entire venue in circles to the beat of the music in a calm and serene atmosphere.

I think that you are the one for me

′Cause it gets so hard to breathe

When you're looking at me, I've never felt so alive and free

When you're looking at me, I've never felt so happy

The blonde felt like the song, she was so free and happy right now. Her moment. Of both.

And I've heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime

And I'm pretty sure that you are that love of mine

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine

The bluenette was in the same condition, at first a little, well, VERY nervous but the more she followed the song the more she felt idyllic.

And I see forever in your eyes

I feel okay, when I see you smile, smile

Wishing on dandelions all of the time

Praying to God that one day you'll be mine

Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time

As the song came to an end, the sooner it became.

Dawn was coming and they didn't need words to show what they felt. Their eyes gave them away.

Dandelion, into the wind you go

Won't you let my darling know?

Dandelion, into the wind you go

Won't you let my darling know that?

I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine

And I see forever in your eyes

I feel okay when I see you smile, smile

Wishing on dandelions all of the time

Praying to God that one day you'll be mine

Wishing on dandelions all of the time, all of the time

05:59. And a few seconds before dawn it was the first time they both kissed.

I'm in a field of dandelions

Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine.

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

Agree 100% on the uncertainty of how negativity works. As best as I can tell, Grimm also can discern vulnerability, attempt to see when a "good" time to strike is, and it's not JUST about negativity. So inciting incidents are *only* those that also leave people truly *vulnerable*. Until then, the Grimm just kind of passively "build up" in the vicinity, like a dam waiting to burst, as long as there's enough to "keep them interested". But that's all I've got, and it isn't even always 100% consistent with how it actually worked.

Moving on, your conclusion about Mistral *is* interesting, but it's yet another outcome that would be influenced heavily by, as you mentioned in other areas, *shit we don't get to see/know about*.

Specifically, this time I mean the question of what happens to the existing power and leadership structure of Mistral AFTER the war, especially since we know that all the nations aren't even *actual* kingdoms anymore, and basically just kinda still call themselves that because they feel like it.

So I guess they're constitutional monarchies? I dunno. Anyway, getting back to the meat of this:

I *imagine* that after the war (so this is just me speaking), since this transition would already require a power shift anyway, Vale and Vacuo were like "yeeeaaahh we're gonna need to kind of breathe down your necks for a bit and make sure that whoever you're electing in your reformed government is genuinely Not a raging bigot, and on top of that, we have a list of 'further suggestions' for you to follow along with that. If you do, you can Sit At The Big Boy Politics Table, and we can talk about helping you recover."

Ultimately resulting in your outcome for Mistral actually being just a vocal minority of the population, the way I imagine it.

Meanwhile Vale has managed to impress and help the majority and overall economy enough to get a lot of people at least kind of on board, even if often only in a "they're useful *for now*, i'll give them that" sort of way.

So in this way, Post-War Mistral still ends up largely just a moderately harsher offshoot of Vale's views (since I 100% think Vale is drinking the meritocracy koolaid too, I didn't mean to imply I don't. They just act more polite about Faunus who don't "measure up" while still subconsciously holding prejudice towards them anyway)

Honestly, the tidbit about Beacon having no Faunus instructors and so few Faunus students is something I really wish weren't the case, because like... To a certain flavor of racist, making the Faunus into Hunters could be *desirable*, making it not necessarily line up perfectly with being a direct result of prejudice. Partially, yes, but it feels like there's something missing.

Since there could very well be a bunch of people who are like "Oh, wait, if we can convince these people to go be Hunters, then that also means they go on to simultaneously not just prove themselves to us, but also potentially be going on long trips into the wilderness, leave us alone more often, and hopefully die young and let us act sad about it and glorify them, even if part of us is secretly relieved that they died so a human didn't have to, and even if a lot of us won't even admit this to ourselves or feel kind of guilty for thinking it"

So I really imagine part of it is that Faunus population is just low-ish in Vale and much of the non-Menagerie world anyway, which in turn could be a blend of both "natural" reasons and coincidence that isn't necessarily anyone's fault, and Vale still lowkey gatekeeping upward mobility from them and disincentivizing mass migration to Vale for "practical" reasons.

Although this alone isn't enough to entirely explain it, since I don't imagine they're being really hardcore or extreme about it. Like they don't *hate* the idea of you immigrating, they just make it kind of a pain. So in my re-imagining/self-rationalization attempt, I would also imagine that the other component is that Vale's brand of "we swear we're not racist" is kind of "infantilizing" or "patronizing" in a way Faunus have sort of internalized.

A culture where Faunus are discouraged from fighting in a way that's painted as (and often genuinely believed to be) gracious and noble, along the lines of "Oh, you've already suffered too much, here, sit back and let us handle it for you." Or as a sort of "oh, no, we wouldn't want it to seem like we're just using you!" sort of "overcorrection" for racism.

Like I kind of think this would also be the problem with Ozpin specifically. He's not intentionally racist, especially because he's had times where he literally WAS a Faunus, but he kind of feels a misplaced guilt/paranoia in encouraging Faunus to fight. "What if I end up just as bad as the people who just want to use them? What if people accuse me of that and turn against me? What if getting too involved in Faunus affairs makes the Faunus themselves resentful towards me? Don't they suffer enough already?"

In turn, there are a bunch of Faunus who have started to take a certain sort of "pride" in being non-combative and docile, especially since it they feel it helps alleviate prejudices about the Faunus being irrational, aggressive, or "ruled by instinct".

So, it ends up being both that being a Hunter in Vale is somewhat harder for Faunus, but also that a ton of them have been convinced that they don't even want to, even though they still can.

the hardest part about doing a full rwby rewrite has to be just the fact that the racism plot was important to a bunch of characters, and yet the existence of Grimm elevates racism from being just cruel and irrational to now fundamentally SO stupid and self-destructive in an immediately obvious, non-abstract, direct cause/effect sort of way that you have no idea how they didn't drive themselves extinct.

Like if anything they should be living in super collectivist communes where the problem wraps around to everyone being kind of TOO nice, in a nervous, forced kind of way.

Everyone "talks like a therapist" or makes all their words watered down and soft like they live in a show for little kids... On purpose. Because they're terrified.

Social rules like "Every time you greet people, it's also heavily encouraged to compliment them," or "Even the smallest disagreements should be held quietly/privately", stuff like that.

People who seem cheerful and friendly but are really just constantly emotionally suppressed and have so much buried anxiety that they don't even *know* they have anxiety anymore, or really even classify it as such, because this is just How It Is to be a person living in Remnant.

You just. Live like a prey animal and do your best not to think about that too hard.

Like I think if it DOES still have racism my go-to explanation would be that it actually *isn't* popular opinion that negative emotion attracts Grimm, and to make this discrepancy obvious right away.

This is just something that has been long suspected, but only somewhat recently confirmed, and the people who profit off of the suffering of others just keep desperately pretending it isn't true and slandering all the studies involved, because as long as they have others to insulate them from the fallout of their terrible choices, they never learn anything.

[ravennm84]

Serafina II

Part 1     Part 3

The 2nd installment of the “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” series. I was seriously shocked by how much response I got from part one, so I hope this lives up to your expectations. Blood, gore, and death are coming, along with some mental freak-outs. You have been warned. 

Part II

Despite wanting to stay with Marinette to comfort the girl after the tearful apologies by Mylene and Ivan, Serafina couldn’t return until her work was finished. There was still much to do and people to punish. 

She arrived early with Mylene, which allowed her to observe the others that entered the classroom. Kim had returned to school that day in a wheelchair. The cast on his leg went up to his waist and the one on his arm went up to his bicep. His face and exposed skin were covered in bruises and his right eye looked like it had blood in it. 

“How are you feeling, dude?” Nino asked him as he entered alongside Adrien.

“Really sore,” the boy admitted. “Doctors had to reset my leg at the knee and said that my arm was a three piece offset fracture, so they had to use screws to put it back in place. Other than that; had a concussion, a lot of bruises, and a couple cuts; but no internal bleeding or ruptured organs. They said after a few months and some physical therapy, I should be as good as new.”

Nino gave him a solemn nod. “Glad to hear you’re going to be okay, dude.”

Kim’s expression dropped a bit. “I heard about Alya, I’m really sorry, man.”

The boy lowered his head while Adrien patted his back. “I really… I can’t believe she’s gone because of some freak accident. It makes no sense!” Nino jumped to his feet and started pacing as more students filed in. “I mean, she wasn’t supposed to die like that! Getting caught up in an akuma battle, childhood disease, there would be a reason for that! But that was just pointless!”

Mme. Bustier did attempt to calm him down, but her kind words fell on deaf ears before he grabbed his bag and left the room. No one could blame him, and only Adrien followed to make sure he would be alright, and to make sure he wasn’t akumatized.

Lila came in not long after with a curious bag in her hands. Serafina watched the liar as she looked around the room. She had a feeling that the liar would try something after her last attempt to frame Marinette had failed. When the girl tried speaking to Mylene, the doll was proud to see the girl refuse to acknowledge her as she continued to speak with Rose and Juleka. When it was clear that she was being ignored, she tried speaking to Ivan, only for him to give her a harsh glare that had her shuffling backwards. With Max and Alix still at the hospital and Adrien not in the room, that left her with Sabrina. The redhead had been sitting alone at the front of the room since Chloe had transferred schools after the Miracle Queen incident.

“Hi Sabrina, how are you doing?”

The girl smiled up at the italian, glad to still have a friend. “I’m doing okay, at least a lot better than a lot of our class. I heard Max lost sight in his one eye from the chemicals and Alix might have to have cosmetic surgery to get her face back to normal. At least Kim might be back to normal in a few months after going through physical therapy. But Alya…”

Lila faked her tears at the mention of her lost follower. She was really more annoyed than sad, Alya was easily manipulated, went along with everything she said, and Lila had been able to use her blog to build up her popularity. And the girl had been a decent attack dog, just point her at someone and off she went. Now that she was dead, maybe she could turn Sabrina into her new lead follower, she was already partially trained and it wasn’t like the blonde bitch was around anymore.

“I know, it’s so terrible. She was my first friend when I moved here, it’ll be so hard without her,” she faked a few more tears. And just like that, Sabrina took her hand in comfort and said a bunch of soothing words while she continued to fake cry. 

After a moment, Lila placed the bag she’d been holding on the desk and pushed it away from her, making sure the action caught Sabrina’s attention. “What’s that?”

Lila fake sobbed even harder, hiding her face in her hands. “Ma-Marinette, she-she said it was m-my fault that Alya’s dead. She practically threw that bag at me and said to use it,” she said before breaking down in more fake sobs.

Carefully opening the bag, she gasped when she saw it was full of razor blades and a couple of kitchen knives. Sure, she knew that Marinette didn’t get along with Lila, but to actually give this to her and tell her to ‘use it’? How could she be so cruel?

Serafina scowled as the red head hugged the liar and promised her that she would take care of it. Her anger erupted as Sabrina stood from her desk with the bag in hand, and began walking towards Mme. Bustier’s desk. The girl didn't take two steps before tripping over nothing and falling onto her side. Luckily, she did not land on the bag. Unluckily, she gripped it too tight and the impact forced the knives and razors through the bag and deep into her hands.

The girl screamed and cried as blood rushed out of the wounds and down into her sleeves. She begged Lila to help her, but the italian backed away from the girl in shock. Mme. Bustier gripped her head between her hands and began saying “not again, not again” before running out of the room. The only ones that helped her were Juleka, Rose and Ivan; the smaller girl sprinting off to alert the nurse and the principal, while Juleka and Ivan got Sabrina to her feet. Ivan kept the girl upright and moving out the door while Juleka held the girl’s hands above the level of her heart to keep her from bleeding too much.

Those left in the classroom were in shock as they stared at either the door or at the blood staining the floor. No one said anything for a long time, not even Lila. She hadn’t thought anyone would get hurt. She just thought she would get Marinette suspended and everyone would be on her side again. Adrien returned before the others, completely shocked when he saw the blood and Kim explained to him what had happened. The blonde sent a scathing look at Lila but said nothing.

It was a while later before Rose, Ivan, and Juleka returned to class, along with M. Rupere. He informed them that their classes were cancelled for today. “After everything that has occurred this week, I’ve decided that all of you will be meeting with the counselor today. He will decide if more sessions are necessary and for who, but his door and mine are open if you need to talk. M. Deveraux will come to speak with you one at a time. Kim Le Chien, he had requested to speak with you first. Mlle. Rossi,” he looked sternly at the girl, “would you please follow me, we need to talk about the incident with Sabrina Raincomprix.”

Serafina smiled as the liar trudged out of the room after the man. She was satisfied with Sabrina’s punishment and doubted if Mme. Bustier would last another day before having a total mental breakdown. She also knew that Lila would be in even more trouble after M. Rupere looked into the girl a bit more. But just to make sure, Serafina touched her on the way out. To most people, that would do nothing; but to someone like Lila, it would cause her to become more and more unhinged until she did something drastic. Very soon, Lila would be out of the picture and those deserving of punishment will have paid their debts.

~oOo~

It was more difficult sneaking home with Adrien than she had expected, especially with the tiny god of Chaos and Destruction in his bag. Plagg was his name, and he was very defensive of his kitten and had threatened to cataclysm her. Serafina told him that she would not purposefully harm his ‘kitten’, but there was something she had to take care of at the Agreste Mansion. The doll had long suspected that Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and she was going to find out tonight if it was true. Plagg was reluctant to agree since it would hurt Adrien; but if it was true, they had to put an end to it.

After arriving at the mansion, Plagg easily convinced the boy to sneak out and check on Nino. After he left, Serafina sensed something on Adrien’s desk. Being an enchanted/haunted object, she could sense other objects like herself… such as Miraculous jewels. And right there on the desk was a pin shaped like a peacock, one of the jewels that had been missing and used by Mayura. If there had been any doubts before about who had been terrorizing Marinette, they were gone. 

Tucking the pin into her small outfit, she began to search the building, starting with Gabriel’s office. She had expected the man to be present, but he was missing. And given that Hawkmoth was a very active user, she had no doubt that he kept his jewel on him at all times. So, she waited.

It was about an hour later that Gabriel Agrest entered the room, and not from the door Serafina had expected. The man had a secret entry in the floor in front of a portrait of a woman. He was muttering on knowing better than to use Bubbler again, but that the negative emotions had been too strong to ignore. She also saw the purple kwami hovering over his shoulder, but the creature stopped when it sensed her. Gabriel strode out of the room, barely noticing that Nooroo had stayed behind and flew over to the doll hiding behind the desk.

“What are you doing here? If the Master finds you, he will destroy you.” The kwami said with worry.

The doll conveyed that she knew that his master was Hawkmoth, just as her human was Ladybug. She was here to protect her and return the butterfly and peacock miraculous to their rightful place. Also knowing that Gabriel had become too corrupted for his miraculous.

“I’ve tried to tell him that the wish would be dangerous,” Nooroo told her with downcast eyes. “He wants to make a wish to revive his wife, but he doesn’t realize that the cost would be to put Adrien, someone he loves equally as much as Emilie, into the same state of death. She isn’t even truly alive anymore, her body only lives because of the machine she is in.”

An idea spawned in Serafina’s thoughts and she barely kept herself from smiling. She asked Nooroo to help her activate the secret passage so she could get to his wife, but the little kwami shook his head. “Even if I could get you down there, the motion sensors would trip and he would attack you.”

Smiling this time, Serafina promised the little god that Gabriel would not attack her. That she would make sure that Adrien would be safe and the two kwami’s would go to their rightful place. All he had to do was help her open the door. Although reluctant and slightly scared, the little god opened the door, hoping that the nightmare would finally end. 

Down in the lair, the doll saw the mechanical coffin placed in the center of the room and went to it. The motion sensors caught her quickly, but she had been planning on moving fast anyway. Opening the coffin, she settled herself into the woman’s arms. Nooroo had been right, Serafina could sense that the woman’s soul had departed from her body a while ago and it was only the machine that was keeping her body alive. With no other soul to contend with, this would make what she was about to do next all the easier.

Nathalie had called to alert him the moment the alarms went off in the lair while she and Simone were out on an errand. He was moving faster than he could remember with Nooroo following close behind. Gabriel transformed on the way down, prepared to attack whoever had stumbled in, but his breath caught in his throat halfway down when he got a good view of the room. 

The coffin was empty.

Rushing forward, he began frantically searching the room for his wife, calling her name. He turned to rush back upstairs and froze. Standing behind him, looking dazed, was his wife. Her eyes were unfocused and her arms were hugging her middle, but it was her. Dropping his transformation, Gabriel cautiously approached her and she flinched back from him. It took a few minutes and a lot of gentle coaxing before he was able to wrap an arm around her shoulders and lead her to the elevator. When they got to his office, he watched her carefully as she began walking around the room. He wanted her to sit down and rest, but he was still in shock that she was awake and standing in front of him.

Eventually, her green eyes met his. “Where’s Adrien?”

“I… I don’t know, he should be up in his room.”

Emilie’s head tilted slightly, her eyes searching his. “What have you done? Did you make the wish?”

“No, my love. I was going to when I got the jewels, but Ladybug and Chat Noir evaded me.”

Tears grew in her eyes as she continued to stare at him. “You tried to make the wish? Knowing that it would have cost our son’s life?” 

Gabriel froze. He hadn’t known that wishing Emilie to come back would cost Adrien’s… but Nooroo had tried to tell him. He remembered the kwami trying to tell him about the cost and he had forced him to not speak. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I didn’t-”

“You knew,” she interrupted, her voice lacking any emotion as she continued to stare at him. “You knew from the beginning that what you were doing was wrong, evil. You chose to ignore what it would cost.”

“Emilie, my love, please don’t say such things,” Gabriel begged as he rushed forward to wrap his arms around her. “All I have wanted since the day I lost you, was to hold you in my arms again and hear your voice. I was lost without you and was willing to go to the ends of the earth to bring you back. Is that so wrong?”

He had just barely met her eyes when he felt the twin pains in his arms. Jumping back, he looked down to see both wrists had been cut deeply with a pair of his fabric cutting scissors. Blood was draining from the wounds at an alarming rate. His hands were shaking and he was already feeling light headed as he grabbed a handful for fabric from his work table in an attempt to slow the blood. He wanted to call out for help, but they were alone. 

His eyes grew hazed as he looked to Emilie, surprised that she was staring at him with such contempt. “I know what you’ve been doing while I was in that coffin. Tormenting the city and people I love, isolating our son and treating him like a burden. If you had ever succeeded in getting the Cat and Ladybug miraculous, it would have destroyed Paris. But you didn’t care. As you said, all you cared about was hearing my voice and holding me in your arms. Congratulations, your wish came true, and you will be the one to pay the price. Not Adrien.”

His legs gave out from under him as the fabrics dripped from the excess blood. He couldn’t understand how this had happened, Emilie would have never done something like this… but was this really her? With his vision fading, he took a hard look at his wife, only now noticing the dullness of her eyes, the greying pallor of her skin, and the fact that she only seemed to breathe when she spoke… “Who are you?”

Her head tilted again, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. “Serafina. Quite astute of you to figure that out in your state. Your wife’s soul passed on a long time ago, all you have been doing is preserving a corpse. And I was telling the truth; even if you had made the wish, it would have cost Adrien his life.” Her hand shot forward, removing the butterfly miraculous before he could stop her. “Your actions have hurt someone close to me and I could no longer stand back and allow it to happen.”

She stood, walking to his desk to pull out a piece of paper and writing something down before neatly folding it and leaving it on his desk.

“Wh… What…”

“You just wrote a letter to Adrien; admitting what happened to his mother, that you were Hawkmoth, and the reason why you did what you did.” She said calmly before looking back at him. “Whether he tells the rest of the world is up to him. As for the miraculous, I will give him a chance at redemption. Though if he should fail, you may be seeing him sooner rather than later. Either way, they will soon be back where they belong, with the guardian. And you, good sir, have just committed suicide after bringing your wife’s body upstairs, so you would be able to hold her in your arms as you died.”

Unable to sit upright anymore, Gabriel barely felt his body collapse to the floor. He was hardly aware of Emilie lifting one of his arms to tuck her body to his side. The last thing he was aware of was something that he swore would haunt him in the afterlife; a porcelain doll emerging from the folds of her clothes and standing beside them. It stood there on its own, watching him until he could no longer keep his eyes open and he took his final breath.

Taglist (even longer):

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[tera-starstorm]

been thinking about the SwSh:CA eternatus incident lately. i feel it should be known that the whole gang shows up to help with marnie and ziggy arriving just in time to help take down eternamax eternatus and bede... bede deals with rose because i think he deserves it.

yasuta and hop were shocked that he showed up in the first place. they weren't on good terms yet — bede and yasuta were on the fence, both somewhat uneasy with each other's presence. hop obviously straight up doesn't trust him yet. by this point, the regret about how he acted has really started sinking in with bede, but he isn't ready to admit it. he feels partially responsible for what's happening with his idolization of rose and providing wishing stars, and he also feels like he owes the gang, hence why he showed up.

i also think that despite my great distaste for rose, there is no way he wanted to see anyone hurt. he was overconfident in the plan, completely sure of himself and the royal twins who had provided their "assistance" in it. it's one of his fatal flaws and one of the greatest factors in allowing this to happen.

it certainly isn't that rose hasn't experienced hardship, but being raised as the family's perfect golden child and having such a prestigious position does warp the mind. any plans that may have once been genuinely well-intentioned have been warped by it all. he didn't think for a second something could go awry and anyone would get hurt or worse. his world is turned upside down when he goes to the top of the tower to see the aftermath of it all.

there's blood. everyone up there is crowded around yasuta. they're desperately trying to call paramedics, and hop's gaze snaps to rose. rose is horrified. he can barely make out what hop is shouting at him through tears. he's clearly in agony. it sinks in rather quickly to rose that this is his fault. i think it's an appropriate consequence for him to see the reality of what he did and have his overconfidence that caused it all shattered through it. his arrogance could have taken innocent lives. though yasuta does survive, rose still has to live with what he's done and what could have happened without a child's sacrifice. it's no wonder he turns himself in.

he's no longer looking at the world through rose-tinted glasses.

[mqgriett]

Crosshair- the missed shot

Pairing: Crosshair x reader Warnings: very small mention of intrusive thoughts Summary: Crosshair can’t get what happened today out of his head and finally loses it. 

Note: AHHHH this is the first one-shot i’m posting and I’m so nervous so please lmk what you think! For the tenth time tonight, Crosshair twisted from his side to his back. His mind was racing, the scene from earlier today playing on a loop inside his head. He sat up and stared down at his bare hands, eyes fixated on his trembling palms. He tossed his legs off the side of the bed, legs now dangling off the edge. Intrusive thoughts poured into his brain, the idea of crushing his slender fingers seeming appealing in the moment. His loud sigh unintentionally woke you up and your eyes adjusted to the dark room a few seconds later, allowing you to see his hunched figure. “Crosshair?” you asked groggily. You rubbed your eyelids with the backs of your knuckles, sitting up to match his height. He let out a long breath, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” he replied, his shoulders slouching from guilt. You brushed your fingers through your hair, scotting a bit closer so you could see the side of his face. His whole body shook uncontrollably, skin cold to the touch. Gingerly, you rubbed his exposed back and subconsciously traced the scars on his spine. “You’re not still thinking about today, are you?” He ran an unsteady hand through his hair, not saying a word. It was enough to answer your question. You pushed the blankets off of your bare legs, maneuvering around Crosshair to sit as close to him as possible. “It wasn’t your fault.” you spoke softly, calmly, in an attempt to calm him down a bit. “Who else’s fault could it possibly be?” he seethed. He wasn’t upset with you, he never could be. But right now he couldn’t put up with the thought that he failed. Crosshair twisted his chin to the side, refusing to let you see the tear making its way down his face. You curled your right arm under his chin, gently turning his face back to look at you. “There was nothing else you could have done, we were surrounded. Everyone did what they were supposed to,” you placed your finger in the middle of his chest, “including you.” He shook his head, “what if I’d killed him? What if it didn’t just graze his side and it had hit ‘em in the stomach? What if it’d been a kill shot-” “Stop it.” you said sternly, grabbing onto his forearm. You traced up to his fingers and intertwined them with your own. He let out a shaky breath, gripping onto your small hand for dear life. “It is okay to feel frustrated and angry. But you cannot blame yourself, it will tear you apart.” You leaned his head on your shoulder, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. He was still trembling, but his heart rate had slowed now. “Tech is fine.” The mention of his brother’s name sent him into a sobbing mess, neck dropping and a muffled cry escaping his lips. Your heart sank at the sound, he felt awful. Crosshair had missed today, for the first time since his training he had missed a shot. It flew past the B2 battle droid and scratched Tech’s side, making him 180 and fall to the ground. You dove for him, using yourself as a shield for the fallen Bad Batch member. Only seconds after the incident the rest of the team was on Marauder, tying Tech down to a medical cot so you could tend to his wound. Crosshair weeped into the crook of your neck, finally letting all of his emotions out. He hadn’t said a word since it happened, believing that if he waited until nightfall to cry no one would see or hear. Hunter was no help, yelling at his brother for his mistake and rambling on and on about how he couldn’t be so careless next time. You grew overprotective, shoving Sarge back and shouting at him that he wasn’t doing anything to aid in the situation. At one point you even had to remind him that you were a team and that meant that everyone partially takes the blame when something goes wrong. Hunter hadn’t spoken since your argument, throwing his arms up in the air and going to his quarters. Wrecker had been trying his best to break the quarrel up, saying that he messed up too. He felt panicked, having never heard you yell as loudly as you were in that moment. In a way he understood why, you loved Crosshair more than anything and knew that he was already feeling beaten down. Wrecker went after Hunter, leaving you with Cross in the main cabin. Tech was knocked out from the anesthesia, body limp on the cot.

You had never seen Cross so upset before because he was the type of person to grieve in silence. Seeing him like this made you feel so helpless and all you could do was let him cry and hold him. That was all he wanted, your touch. You made him feel safe, you eased the pain. 

Your chin rested atop his head, his body limp against yours as you held him. “Tech is going to be fine by tomorrow. He hardly lost any blood, the biggest issue he’ll have is getting over the soreness.” you said. 

You two sat there for at least another twenty minutes until he had calmed down. He spoke softly, so quietly to where you could barely hear him, “I don’t deserve you cyar'ika.”

“Don’t say that please.” you replied, pulling your head off of his so you could look at him. His eyes were red and tired, the bags underneath them even worse. He absolutely despised that you were seeing him like this, so vulnerable. But right now he didn’t have the strength to come up with some witty remark so you would leave him alone. 

Crosshair traced his fingers along your own, drawing small circles around each knuckle to distract himself from the situation. “Maybe I should just leave.” he whispered, swallowing the ball in his throat before it became too big to push down. 

You jerked your head back out of shock, staring at him like he was crazy. “Never. We need you.” you answered, placing your hand atop his and squeezing. 

“I’m no good to the team if my hands don’t work.” he croaked, voice hoarse from the crying. The tremor in his tone indicated he was on the verge of tears again. 

You shook your head, slipping out of his grip and cupping his cheeks, “Your hands have saved hundreds, if not thousands, of innocent people. One small mistake does not erase any of that, my love.” 

That seemed to finally make it click with him, his shoulders relaxing as he reached up to cover your hands with his own. He peeled them off his face, kissing the inside of each of them chastly. He would never admit it out loud, but he was hopelessly in love and infatuated with you. 

Crosshair leaned forward, gently pressing your lips together. He held your waist, allowing you to finally feel that the shakiness was gone. As he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, sighing deeply before making the decision that he would try to sleep for the rest of the night. 

He pulled you into him, placing his chin atop your head and absorbing your body heat. Your hand settled on his chest as you mumbled a quiet, “I love you,” before falling asleep. 

Crosshair slept all throughout the night and into a decent amount of the morning, and Tech was well enough to see his brother holding you tightly by the time he woke up. 

“Let ‘em sleep.” Hunter said tiredly, staring down at the two of you. “He needs it.” 

“The sleep? Or her?” Tech asked sarcastically. 

Hunter replied, “both,” and left Crosshair’s room with Tech. 

[omegawolverine]

I love it when people talk about things they're passionate about, tell me something cool!! Anything you want, just something you find interesting or want to talk about :D

hello anon my beloved, I am in a bad mood so you will be receiving a passionate, yet lowkey of pissy rant about why villainizing bakugou makes me wanna vomit and its NOT just because I'm a dumbass kinnie :)

tws: child abuse (emotional and physical), near death expierences, bullying, kidnapping, suffocation, lots of trauma in general tbh. if you've seen bnha then basically just keep all the general triggering plot stuff in mind incase i missed any warnings

also, note: I havent caught up on bnha in a minute, I'm at like the start of the war arc but I barely remember shit there tbh so like. probs missing new stuff. also bnha spoiler warnings lol

so, for starters, the homie bakugou has like,, a good handful of issues that come from his childhood that explain why he's an ass. he was always praised and never actually reprimanded for being a twat which led to him having a huge ego that ended up fucking him over majorly. this ego was something that his mother acknowledged him having, but literally didnt try to fix it with anything other than violence. see here:

like, instead of trying to help him, she hits and insults him, which is probably what led to his weird inferiority/superiority complex. being constantly told by others that you're outstanding and one day you'll be a top hero because you're rude and aggressive and then going home and being hit by your mother for those exact same behaviors is bound to fucking confuse a child.

so like, now that we've established that its definetly canon that his mother (parents? I think he said parents at some point but masaru doesn't seem like the type so 🤷) hits him though we don't know how much or how often (though if bakugou was as much of a little shit back then ((which as far as we've seen- he was)) then it was probably often), lets talk about how regardless of all that 1) hitting your kids as "discipline" not only doesn't work but is abusive lol like idc if it's spanking/popping them on the mouth for talking shit, slapping them across the face "on occasion", etc. shits not okay 2) hitting your kids!!!! does not work!!!!!!!! it is literally PROVEN not to work!!!!!!!! hitting a child who has done something wrong doesnt teach them to stop doing something it teaches them to be scared of you, which will cause the child to withdraw, removing part of their support system (assuming said abusive parents would even offer that up) and will most likely lead to them thinking they're a bad person, not that their actions were bad, which are two different things. so, ya know, that would clearly have an effect on a kid. like, as someone with a mother who reminds me all too much of mitsuki: I have acted like a complete shitbag and taken my anger out on people to feel better in the past because of the way my mother treated me. though it was nowhere near what bakugou did, I still know first fucking hand what a mother hitting and insulting her child will do, especially if they have no proper outlet for that (friends, a safe place to vent) which bakugou never fucking had.

theres also the fact that just talking to your kid the way mitsuki does (saying it's his fault he was kidnapped because he's weak, all while hitting him) is not??? okay?????? ive seen people arguing that this was just a joke in poor taste but like her son was KIDNAPPED and even if it was a "joke" there's literally NO WAY that would EVER?? BE FUNNY??????? she just sounds like the kind of parent who at the very least says shit without thinking that would traumatize bakugou (because being told right after being kidnapped it's your fucking fault by your mother is absolutely traumatizing) but it comes across as her being emotionally abusive.

mitsukis character as a whole comes across as a shitty mom who doesn't realize she's a shitty mom and thinks bakugou being an ass isn't at least partially her fault even though she's admitted to realizing he has always had an ego problem and doing nothing to fix it except for hitting and yelling which obviously did nothing but make him just as loud and violent as she is.

this is obviously not the entire reason why he's a dick but he was never properly taught that the shit he was doing wasn't okay and people not stopping it and/or praising him endlessly even tho he was a bully is basically the same as encouraging it, thank you very much.

moving on from that, let's talk about bakugous other traumas and how he naturally responds to them. hint: it's with either full blown panic or a fight response (verbal or physical, though usually physical. also sometimes it's the panic followed by the fight response.)

so far in bnha (keep in mind that I am not caught up, I've only read up to the beginning of the war arc and i barely remember those bits so) bakugou has...

nearly died via sludge villain (he was unable to move and was being suffocated to death- keep this in mind)

lost for the first time ever and against deku of all people (this nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack, likely because of that sexy little inferiority/superiority complex combo. think of this as like. gifted kid burnout lite. he has always been the best of the best and now suddenly he is being beaten by somebody who has always been weaker than him, which immediately makes him start thinking he was never actually that good, he's actually a fucking failure, a goddamn fraud)

won the sports festival by default (bakugou counts this as yet another failure because todoroki didnt try his best. had bakugou lost to todoroki full strength, he would've taken 2nd place with a bit of bitching, but he still wouldve taken it rather than refuse the medal as it would be a reminder that he failed. instead of accepting that like UA shouldve, the staff chained and muzzled him on live television and then had all might, his fucking idol, force the medal into his mouth. remember the sludge villain incident and how he couldnt move and was suffocating to death? yeah.)

been kidnapped because of the way he reacted to winning during the sports festival (he was aggressive and tried to refuse the medal because he felt he didnt deserve it and was then retraumatized by being chained up and muzzled. his "villainous attitude" was a fucking trauma response, do not tell me otherwise)

was then chained up once again by the LOV after being kidnapped,,, do we see the "retraumatize bkg" theme yet?

"ended all might" (he literally blames himself for all mights retirement because had he just not have been weak, all might wouldve had more time, right?)

my point with all of these is that bakugou has been severely traumatized and has then had his trauma responses (aggression, fight) used to further demonize him. not all people with trauma react the fucking same and the way the fandom just refuses to acknowledge anger as a valid form of trauma response is gross as hell.

moving away from that topic, bakugou has literally never had any actual friends, they all just used him and didn't care about him which absolutely will fuck up a kid, especially one who already has all that other shit going on. bakugou deadass never had a support system or people to help him grow as a person, let alone properly work through his fucking emotions so it's not surprising that he would take out his bullshit on the one person who tried to help him especially considering he saw dekus actions as him thinking he was weak. bakugou was raised to not seek help, he thought somebody strong shouldnt ever need it, so for somebody like deku (who bakugou percieved as weak and helpless already) to offer up help? deku must obviously think bakugou is even weaker than him, what other explanation could their possibly be!

speaking of which, there's his heaps of insecurities that he basically hid by being a twat and bullying others for most of his life. kid was so insecure he bullied deku for fucking years cause he thought deku looked down on him, thought he was better than him, etc. and that only got worse bc his idol then decided to take deku in, train him and even give him his quirk. there's probably some shit im missing but still he's got issues and always has had issues. that being said, he's actually improving and working them out now which is what makes him a really good, interesting character. it's also nice to see a character who is a dick without some tragic backstory (like his backstory is sad but its not the classic "my family was fucking slaughtered and i turned into a raging bitch who murders people" type shit) bc that rarely happens and it's like most assholes don't actually have a story like that they're just assholes lol

now lets talk improvement! lil bitch has been getting better since he got into UA and im so happy abt it!! he had a rough start what with deku suddenly having a quirk and all but like he is really improving now and it highkey shows that bakugou just mostly needed people who 1) didn't constantly praise him and actually criticized him instead 2) actually fucking punished him doing stupid shit and 3) some motherfucking friends

Since going to UA he's gotten actually feedback from teachers about his weaknesses and how to get stronger, he's lost against others, hes been told he has a shit attitude and is a dick, told he should be nicer and leave deku alone, etc etc. He hasn't gotten in trouble too much with teachers but others give him shit for what he does and aizawa has punished him too, while still acknowledging that bakugou is an amazing and dedicated student, something which no one else had done up til that point. and uh???? homie actually has friends who like,,, don't use him and also call him out when he's a dick. like specifically kirishima has done this shit and him and bakugous relationship is clearly very healthy and beneficial for the both of them. makes me feel all happy n shit, ya know

bottom line is: while it is absolutely valid to dislike or even hate bakugou because he is a massively flawed person who has been very cruel to others, villainizing him for the way he acts which in large part seems to be from a lack of guidance, a shitty mother and heavy amounts of trauma, is fucking awful. his actions cannot be fucking excused, he needs to apologize and continue to grow, but he is also a fucking teenager, who is just now being told that the way he acts is unacceptable by people who dont fucking abuse him (and I swear to god if any people who think mitsuki isnt abusive interact with this fucking post I will fullstop hardblock you, I do not fucking care) and actually treat him like a normal person instead of some prodigy child or someone who needs to be fixed.

people are free to debate my points or whatever bc I know some of this stuff is up to interpretation but like. dni if you're just here to say you hate bakugou for xyz reason or that he's irredeemable. also especially dni if you compare him to fucking endeavor yall bitches make me gag.

anyways thxs for the ask anon <33 sorry this is a kinda messy info dump lol

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (11)

     jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: some angst and irrational jealousy

words: 5.2k

   chapter eleven

Your presentation with Namjoon the next day was a success – which was almost a given, considering how much work the two of you had put into it – and, to celebrate that it finally ended, you went out for some coffee in the afternoon. The campus café was packed at a time like this but both of you were still buzzing from the adrenaline of having to present in front of the whole class, so you barely noticed anyone else.

“I’m so glad we presented last,” you said and then sighed in content after you tasted your caramel beverage. “That left no time for anyone to ask any questions since everyone just wanted to go home faster.”

Namjoon chuckled. “I know. That’s the only benefit of having to spend the entire class stressed and anxious.”

You groaned at the realization of how many nerve cells you’d lost today. “Thank God that’s over now.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he started to say and was suddenly cut off by a sharp flashing sound from somewhere behind you, accompanied by a bright flicker of light that illuminated—and blinded—the boy in front of you for just a second.

You blinked in shock – both from the flash and from the realization that someone had just taken a picture of you two – and turned around, your eyes widening in surprise.

Behind you, a group of flustered freshmen huddled close to each other as they sprinted out of the café, their phones in hands. They looked back at you as they went, quickly turning away as soon as they caught your eye.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, turning back around.

“Some wannabe paparazzi, I’m assuming,” Namjoon said, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his index fingers, “with some audacity. They didn’t even bother to check if the flash was on.”

“This whole week has been very weird,” you said, glancing over your shoulder again, so you could watch the group through the window – they had piled together in the front-yard of the café and were, most likely, adding unflattering filters to the picture they just took – and then you returned your attention to your friend, all while shaking your head, “but that still has to be the weirdest thing that happened to me. Why would they do something like that?”

“Hard to find a sensible reason,” Namjoon said, his voice empathetic, “but if I had to guess, then I’d say they’re trying to stir something up with that picture.”

“How?” you asked and then realized. “Oh, because I’m here with you?”

“Yeah.”

You rolled your eyes, finding it hard to believe that you were in your final years of university, and the people around you – albeit younger than you – still behaved like they were characters in a high school drama.

“Jesus,” you mumbled dejectedly and took your paper cup of coffee into your shaky hands, sipping it slowly in hopes that the hot liquid would calm you down. You set the cup back down again after a minute, however, because it had no effect on your nerves at all. “Are there no clubs they’d like to join? Nothing else they would want to spend their time doing? I mean, how bored are they?”

Namjoon cleared his throat, feeling awkward for not having suitable answers to any of your questions and for putting you in this position in the first place. “I, uh—yeah. Very bored, probably. I’m sorry.”

You gave him a perplexed glance – his apology had confused you – and noticed how uncomfortable he looked as he avoided your eyes and drew indiscernible patterns on the table with his finger.

“Why are you apologizing?” you tried asking softly. “This isn’t your fault.”

He knew that, of course, but that didn’t alleviate his discomfort. “No, I just feel like I’m partially responsible for that picture because I suggested we get coffee here.”

“You could have never guessed that people would be weird enough to do this,” you countered, feeling even worse now that this incident has made him wish he hadn’t come here with you. “If anything, it’s me who should be apologizing for dragging you into this. I’m honestly struggling to understand why they care so much but I shouldn’t have—”

Namjoon protested, “no, don’t feel guilty about this.”

You stopped to really consider his words.

The two of you were sitting here, apologizing to each other, when, the truth was, neither of you was responsible for the sheer shallowness of the people around you. You had no influence when they were placing their priorities and you couldn’t be blamed for what happened just because these people valued a good campus scandal more than an A in Calculus.

“Yeah. You’re right. I didn’t do anything wrong,” you declared, “and neither did you. Do you want to take a walk instead of sitting here?” you asked then, relieved that you chose to get your coffees to-go instead of drinking them from those pretty but very fragile-looking porcelain cups that several girls were snapping pictures of a few tables away.

An impressed smile appeared on his face after your suggestion; you knew your self-worth. And Namjoon – in the least condescending way possible – admired that greatly.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said with a nod at the window of the café. “The weather’s nice.”

Thankfully, the incident at the café did not repeat itself when the two of you strolled around campus, talking and drinking your coffees in peace. You ended up getting into a conversation so deep – Namjoon was telling you about how his roommate, Seokjin, had purchased an unidentified plant from the flower shop off-campus and was convinced he was now growing marijuana in his room – you didn’t even notice when you finished your drink and it was time for you to say goodbye and head back home.

It was very nice to talk to someone – other than Inna – who shared your point-of-view on most things, but still remained calm and respectful when the conversation turned to something you didn’t exactly agree on. You weren’t used to that. Even Inna, who was normally understanding and open-minded, had a strong opinion on certain things and, sometimes, she got defensive if you disagreed.

Jungkook was a whole different specimen: if someone said something he didn’t like, he was going to defend his stance with impressive – and, frankly, intimidating – fury. Being near him could always make your blood boil, your pupils dilate, and your heart start skipping beats.

Talking to him could sometimes make you wish you could jump off a building – just so you wouldn’t have to look at his shit-eating grin anymore – but it also reminded you that you were alive. It was like bungee-jumping. Like swimming with the sharks.

Apparently, you were an adrenaline junkie, and – as you reluctantly admitted to yourself – he was the adrenaline fix you needed.

When you got back to your building – still thinking about Jungkook even after you’d spent half a day with Namjoon – and entered the elevator, you had your mind set on watching a distracting movie so you could push Jungkook out of your thoughts. You haven’t seen him these past few days and, clearly, it was starting to get to you.

And that was precisely when you nearly fell right back into the elevator cabin after you stepped out and saw the sight in front of you – you thought your abstinence from Jungkook had caused you to hallucinate.

“Oh, you’re finally here.”

Jungkook stood up from the spot next to your door when he saw you emerge down the hall.

You hadn’t expected the boy that haunted your mind to manifest himself right in front of you, so you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. But you still tried, “w-what are—w-why—”

“I called,” he said as a way of explaining. “You didn’t answer.”

You remembered hearing this when he showed up at your dorm the first time, prompting a very awkward three-way exchange between him, Namjoon, and you. Granted, now that the awkward component was out, this gesture could have made your heart flutter but, really, it felt more like a—pleasant—stab into your chest.  

“I, uh, I left my phone in the dorm,” you said, your hands seeming useless when you had no device to hold. “You have to stop coming here whenever I don’t answer my phone, though.”

A confident grin appeared on his lips but his eyes – the true mirror into his heart – were begging.

“Why?” he asked only half teasingly as his gaze seemed to pulsate with need to hear you say that you wanted him here. “Am I not welcome?”

You remembered – and instantly discarded – your plan to watch a distracting movie, and shook your head.

“No,” you said. You wanted him here. It was any thought or activity, distracting you from him, that wasn’t welcome. “I just feel bad for making you wait.”

Pleased with the answer – and not even trying to conceal it as the warmth on the edges of his pupils spread like honey throughout both of his eyes – Jungkook pushed his hands into his pockets.

“It’s fine,” he said and then added, almost carelessly, “I thought something could have happened to you. You’re not one to forget your phone. So, I came to check.”

“Yeah, I was in a hurry this morning—”

“But then I heard it ring inside when I tried calling you from here, so I figured what happened.”

You blinked at his interruption. “Wait, so you knew I left my phone? Why did you wait then?”

“Well, I still needed to talk to you.”

The unapologetic tone of his voice made you inhale sharply and take an unconscious step back as a protective means so you wouldn’t throw your arms around him like your heart wanted you to. You lowered your eyes.

“Okay, but you could have—I-I mean,” you didn’t know why you were still talking. It was obvious that he didn’t mind waiting. And yet that was somehow so impossible to believe. “What if I would have been gone longer?”

“Then I would have waited longer,” he shrugged like it was obvious, his eyes analyzing your confused features. “Why are you so bothered that I’m here?”

“I’m not bothered, I’m just—” truly, relentlessly falling more and more in love with you. “I was just surprised. Sorry I made you wait. What did you want to talk about?”

You gave him a weak smile as you tried to use the business tone you reserved for almost everyone but your voice still came out sounding meek and uncertain.

Jungkook just chuckled – not at you but, rather, at the the obviously nervous state you were in right now. While he always—secretly— appreciated your witty banter and sarcasm, he couldn’t help but feel proud to have this disarming effect on you.

“Straight to the point, huh?” he ribbed. “I thought that, after I’d waited for you for thirty minutes, the least you would do is invite me inside.”

“You waited for thirty minutes?”

“More or less.”

“Shit,” you were done for and you hated that it took this little – just some dedication to wait until you returned – to win your complete devotion. “I’m sorry.”

You walked past him – trying almost desperately not to breathe but still getting a whiff of his cologne and clenching your jaw as you refused to let the intoxicating smell affect you – to unlock the door.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, watching you and marveling at how completely unaware you were about the effects that the smell of your hair – as it lightly brushed against his chest when you walked past – had on him. “I don’t mind.”

You turned the key in the lock, the warmth from inside of the room hitting your already warm face as soon as the door opened.

You moved to a side and looked at him.

“So, uh—come inside, then.”

He did. And the room felt suffocating with him in it – but not in a painful way. It was just unusual: like you’d been transported into a different realm where breathing was no longer necessary to keep you alive and yet your body – so used to the way things were before – was still fighting it.

It was a useless battle.

You couldn’t breathe around him anyway.

“So, I received a picture today,” Jungkook said as he followed after you and took his shoes off by the door.

“Received a picture?” you frowned at his wording, lifting your eyes from your shoes to his face. “I hope you don’t mean in the mail.”

“No—” he paused to laugh. “I mean someone sent it to me. Well, to this groupchat I’m in but they tagged me.”

You placed your shoes in their rightful position by the door but chose not to return your eyes to his because you had a feeling where this was going.

“Right,” you said, not encouraging him to go on but knowing that he would anyway.

“It was you and Namjoon,” he said.

You nodded – which surprised him. “So, the picture reached you.”

For a moment, Jungkook tried to look for hidden hints in your voice – hints that would indicate where your knowledge about this had come from and, more importantly, why you looked so defensive all of a sudden, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him from the other end of the hall – but then he settled on just asking.

“You know about it?”

“Do you know who took it?” you countered, surprising him further.

“Uh—no, I just know who sent it,” he said. “Why? What are you going to—”

“I’m going to complain,” you decided.

Even though you’d suspected that the picture was going to be sent out and not kept as a private artifact, hearing just how quickly it reached Jungkook – and that it was, apparently, directed at him but not sent privately to him – pissed you off.

It was like showing the picture to Jungkook was only one part of this masterplan and this part was a small one. Because another part – the big, important one – was making fun of him in front of every person that was in the groupchat he’d mentioned.

“You don’t take pictures of people in public without their consent, not even celebrities,” you began, “and with a flash on, no less! Like they weren’t even trying to be secretive about the whole thing.”

“R-right. That was disrespectful,” Jungkook agreed, puzzled to notice that the same frustration he’d felt when he saw the picture, was now mirrored on your features. “But I mean… we’re supposed to be dating, remember? That’s why they took the picture.”

You entered the bedroom and he hesitantly trailed behind you.

“That’s not an excuse,” you said.

“Of course, it’s not,” he agreed. “But I kind of get it. I mean… well, how do you think it makes me look when you’re—”

You stopped in the middle of the room and turned around, finding it difficult to fathom how he was capable of defending these people, when they were so dead-set on humiliating him by showing everyone a picture of you with “some other guy”.

“Jungkook,” you said sternly. “That’s exactly why they took the picture. To make you look bad.”

“And they succeeded!”

You frowned. “Doesn’t that piss you off?”

“No—I mean, yeah, obviously, it does. I came here because I was pissed off,” he spoke, his eyes jumping from the window behind you to the posters hanging on Inna’s side of the room. “But I had some time to think about this while I waited for you. I’m actually more pissed off about you being with someone else than I am about getting embarrassed in front of others.”

You thought you misunderstood him. “What?”

The last time Jungkook panicked this much was when he’d been caught red-handed stealing his father’s Jack Daniels from the pantry in eighth grade.

“I… I meant—I’m pissed off about you hanging out with someone else,” he said, rolling his eyes for more effect as he tried to make it seem as though he’d just phrased himself wrong before.

Both of his hands were behind his neck as he stretched – a nervous habit – and you watched him battle his inner discomfort for a minute as you debated which part to focus on. Maybe he really didn’t mean to say what he said.

“Jungkook,” you finally said. “With all due respect, I’m not going to stop hanging out with my friends just because your two-faced friends want to mock you.”

He groaned – growing genuinely irritated now – and turned his back to you. “It’s not that they’re mocking me—”

“Don’t defend them!” you protested.

“I’m not!” his voice had risen to match yours. Slowly, he turned around and dropped his hands to his sides with an exasperated sigh. “I’m just saying, it’s not about them trying to mock me.”

You didn’t believe him. “So you’re saying you would have still been pissed about this if they sent the picture to you personally instead of showing it to everyone?”

“I would have been pissed about this even if there was no picture,” Jungkook replied.

“What are you saying?”

He sighed again. He thought it was fairly obvious what he was saying.

“We’re fake-dating, right?” he asked and it felt like he was deflecting. “So that means people are going to do this. They’re going to talk, even take pictures—”

“I know that,” you said. “We already talked about that.”

“Yes, but… I know that this makes you uncomfortable. And I hate that, really, I do. I’m grateful that you’re helping me in spite of it.”

Waiting for him to get the the point, you tapped your foot impatiently. “Okay.”

“I…” his eyes fell to the ground. The creaking floorboards under your feet distracted him. “What I’m trying to say is that, other people are going to be talking about what’s going on. And these types of things,” he meant the picture as he waved his phone around, “are just going to make them even more curious.”

“You’re suggesting that, by hanging out with my friends, I’m giving them something more to talk about?” you tried. “Even if they don’t take pictures.”

“N-not with your—well, they don’t know he’s your friend.”

“Actually, they don’t know you’re not just my friend, too.”

Jungkook winced – but it was a momentary reaction and, afterwards, you weren’t sure if he really did wince, or if it was just a stray ray of sun that passed through the curtains on your window and blinded him – and then cleared his throat.

“Well, exactly,” he said. “They don’t know shit. They assumed we’re dating and we decided to go with it. And now they see you with Namjoon and, remember, they don’t have confirmation that we’re dating, so, naturally, they start to speculate even harder.”

You had to give it to him, he may have had a point. Maybe people weren’t actually trying to mock Jungkook. Maybe they weren’t laughing about how his “girlfriend” was “cheating” on him with someone else.

Maybe people were genuinely curious whether he was dating you or not and, perhaps, they hoped that by pushing him into the corner with this piece of evidence – that was obtained through questionable means but this wasn’t a courtroom, so everyone fought dirty – Jungkook would finally give them some answers that they craved.

“I’m—” you sat down, too overwhelmed to finish a full sentence. “This is so childish, my head is starting to hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook said and then took the liberty of sitting down next to you.

“No, it’s—I get what you’re saying,” you told him, turning your head so your eyes would meet and catching the sharp sound of him inhaling as he realized how close your faces were. You flushed and turned away. “I-I was just—I don’t know, I guess I got sensitive because of the way they handled this. I mean, when they took the picture, I knew they were going to show it to you, that much was obvious. But I thought it was going to be one of those “hey, just a warning, but I saw your girlfriend out with some guy today” type of texts, you know? One-on-one.”

He fisted the sheets of your bed when you referred to yourself as his girlfriend. Sitting here next to you – so close he could now make out the specific notes of your scent; he loved the smell of menthol in your hair – was going to kill him.

“Yeah,” he said as he exhaled. “With us, it’s never one-on-one. When they’re not sure about something, they argue about it in front of everyone.”

That sounded terrible. It even reminded you of a prison – with no private space and everyone constantly sticking their nose in each other’s business.

“Why do you hang out with these people?” you asked. “They’re always looking for ways to humiliate you.”

You thought Jungkook was going to defend them again and insist that they were like this with everyone, not just him – and you would have had no choice but to take his word for it, since you didn’t belong to the inside crowd – but, much to your surprise, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked down.

“They’re—yeah, I can’t explain that,” he said, suddenly sad. “They clung themselves to us – to t-the other members and me, I mean – and we didn’t bother to shake them off.”

Of course, they didn’t. Parental Advisory – and Jungkook in particular – loved being the center of everyone’s attention. And it made sense. Who wouldn’t love being loved?

You swayed your head thoughtfully but did not say anything else for a while. When you finally felt his shoulders relax and poke yours, you finally spoke again.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” you said.

He didn’t blame you for it – which was unexpected but perhaps you’d misjudged just how self-aware about the situation with his friends he was – as he smiled softly. “That’s okay. I shouldn’t have come in here, demanding you stop spending time with your, uh, friend.”

He hated describing Namjoon in this way and he couldn’t hide it – not that he tried.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” you told him.

“Thanks.”

You nodded in response, the argument finally settling down. Only, you still needed to make a decision how to proceed – choosing to “just go with it” hasn’t exactly gone very well.

“So, what are we going to do about this?” you asked, careful so as not to make your voice sound too strict.

“You said you were going to complain,” Jungkook reminded you.

“I did,” you nodded, already seeing yourself knocking on the door of the dean’s office in your mind. “But it’s pointless, isn’t it? It won’t change anything.”

There were only so many things the dean could do, and controlling a population of nearly twenty-thousand students on campus wasn’t one of them.

“No, probably not,” Jungkook confirmed.

“So, what, then?”

He looked at you. “I have a plan. But you may not like it.”

You swallowed, aware that there wasn’t anything that you wouldn’t have done for him.

It was scary when you realized just how much control over you he still had, all of these years later. You briefly wondered if he’d ever cease to affect you this much.

“What is it?” you spoke.

“Come with me to our party this Friday,” he asked. “It’ll be a great way for us to express our anger about this in a more socially acceptable way. We’d sublimate, so to speak.”

You looked away. He had the power to convince you to do anything – you did not doubt that – but, God, you really didn’t want him to convince you do to this.

“Jungkook—”

“We wouldn’t have to stay long. Just—”

“Just so they’d see us together?” you cut him off and the sharpness in your voice wounded him because that wasn’t the only reason. “Just so we could respond to their incessant nosiness in this passive-aggressive way?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But also because I want to hang out with you there.”

You thought that was just an excuse – a way to soften the blow after he confessed that he only wanted you to come to strengthen the image of your false relationship – so you didn’t catch the vulnerability in his voice.

“If that’s the case, then we could hang out—” you tried to say but Jungkook beat you to the end of your sentence.

“Here, I know,” he finished for you. “Or anywhere else that’s private. But I’m asking you to hang out with me there.”

You stayed quiet.

You weren’t saying no but Jungkook could see that you didn’t want to do this. He realized, in that moment, that he could convince you to come if he put his mind to it, but that would mean that you’d be doing something you didn’t want, all for his sake.

He couldn’t do that. He didn’t want that.

Standing up from the bed, he said, “I’m going to go.”

You followed him with your eyes, the sudden announcement taking you off-guard. “What?”

“Yeah,” he said, not turning around but stopping in the middle of your room nevertheless, “or I might start throwing things.”

“W-why—?”

“Because I want to spend time with you and you’re rejecting me,” he explained in haste, his words sticking together and making it nearly impossible for you to understand him. Not to mention, your heart was now beating so loudly, you were partially deaf to all other sounds. “I guess, you could say it’s bruising my ego. I have to—”

“No, Jungkook, come on,” you stood up, too, not really willing yourself to. Your body seemed to follow his automatically. “You know I want to spend time with you, too.”

He didn’t know, actually. But hearing this was enough to get him to stop and reconsider – clearly, he didn’t really want to leave.

“But do we have to go to that party?” you asked after he didn’t say anything.

He counted the dents on the wall next to your bed before finally saying, “what have we got to lose? People are talking anyway, so why would we stay home?”

A sad smile appeared on your face – you didn’t like reminding him of this; it felt like you were reminding him of your own name – as you replied, “you might find it surprising, but staying home isn’t actually painful for me. I enjoy that.”

“No, I… I know that,” Jungkook said, bringing a hand through his hair. He regretted standing up now. He worded himself better when he was sitting. “But… Okay. W-we could go to the party, hang out there for a little bit, and then we’ll head back and hang out at your place. What do you think?”

That was supposed to be a compromise but it felt too much like he was trying to do you a favor, but not really succeeding at it. Because the core reason why he wanted you two to spend more time together was still laced with his need to prove a point -- and the point was that you and him were more together than you and Namjoon.

“Where’s the catch?” you asked, not seeing how the return back to your place could have benefited your fake relationship.

“There’s no catch,” he said. “I genuinely wish to be—wish to spend time with you.”

That was a good response – he could tell he’d chosen his words right by the way some of the pressure seemed to leave your shoulders when you exhaled.

“And,” you said, “how much of that wish is influenced by your need to prove to everyone that I’m not cheating on you?”

Jungkook smiled.

“Only a little,” he said.

“Well,” you grimaced – and his smile widened at your obvious dramatics – and then turned around to look out the window, “at least you’re honest.”

“I promised I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said.

You watched the students pass by your building outside while you considered your options. There weren’t many. You could either give in and agree to go with him now or you could spend another ten minutes listening to him try to convince you to come, only to agree then.

It didn’t seem fair to make him beg you to come – you didn’t think your company was worth that much and, in any case, you did want to spend time with him, even if you had no conditions of your own and would have gladly remained unseen by anyone else – so, choosing to give in now rather than later, you turned to face him again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go to that party with you,” you said and your words lit his eyes up. “But you won’t let this get to you anymore, okay? Because our plan was to let people think whatever they wanted to think. You said so yourself -- they’re going to talk no matter what we do. So, promise me I won’t find you by my door, all frustrated and determined to wait for thirty minutes until I come back so we can argue about this again. Okay?”

He was already burning with anticipation for Friday night – and most definitely imagining all sorts of scenarios of how the two of you were going to arrive to the party together – but he sobered up enough to react to your request.

“I can’t promise that,” he said.

“Jungkook—”

“No, I can’t promise that I won’t care,” he added, not letting you cut in, “but I promise I won’t do anything about it or… ambush you like this again. Or argue with you about this.”

That was good enough – better, actually, as your stomach contracted in tandem with your chest; it was like your entire body was vibrating now – and you decided that the worst was already in the past, so you sat back down on your bed.

You hadn’t gotten him to promise you he wasn’t going to care about the people you spent your time with -- because, what he should have cared about, was the way his own friends treated him -- but partially getting through to him was still more than you expected from talking to someone as stubborn as Jungkook.

“You didn’t ambush me,” you said softly. “It was nice of you to come and, uh, talk to me in person. Nice but unnecessary since there was nothing to talk about. But still, thank you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook – who loved being appreciated, even as dismissively as this – suddenly turned bashful and tried to do some damage control by finding a yet another excuse for showing up here and waiting for you. He felt like he’d revealed all the most vulnerable parts of himself to you today, and he didn’t know how to walk away from that now, “I just wanted to figure out what we were going to do.”

You scoffed but not cruelly. “I don’t think we figured anything out. We’re still going wherever the circumstances take us.”

“Yeah, I guess, we are,” he agreed and then added the one epic excuse that would always extinguish the burning feelings in your chest, “but, at the end of the day, the only thing that really matters is that my parents believe we’re together.”

You were fine when you heard that his reasons for wanting to hang out with you involved proving a point to your peers. 

But hearing that the “only thing that really mattered” wasn’t actually enjoying each other’s company but, rather, convincing his parents that you were dating, hurt surprisingly much. You knew it shouldn’t have because it was true, that was what mattered, but you still found it hard to breathe for a few seconds after he said that.

“Right,” you muttered, your throat dry as you pretended not to be surprised by how quickly you went from “I want to spend time with you” to “I’m only doing this so my parents don’t disown me”.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, watching you avoid his eyes and fearing that he may have taken his personal damage control too far. “Okay. So, it’s settled then. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Yeah,” you said, your chest – so full a minute ago – hollow now, “eight is fine.”

keep reading | masterlist

[witchybluedeity]

The wrong mood

Brown eyes stared at aquamarine. Aquamarine eyes glanced away. There was a sigh from the younger of the two. “Virgil’s gonna kill you.” 

“I know he is.”

“Scott’s gonna kill you.”

“I know he is.” 

“You better hope they’re in a good mood.” He couldn’t help the smirk. It wasn't normally his older brother who got in trouble. Normally, it was him or Alan. Never John. “How did you even manage this?” 

“I dunno! One moment I’m on the sim and the next-” A pale hand motioned around the hanger. “This happened..” He looked down, running a hand through ginger hair. “I’m so goddamn dead..” 

Gordon snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Johnno my boy, if those two killed for every mishap on this island, There’d be over a thousand graves. Most of them mine. You’ll be fine.”  John just stared at him. “Virgil gets on my ass weekly. And when I come down. And Scott gets on my ass every time he checks in on Thunderbird Five.” He sighed heavily. “I knew it was a mistake letting him and EOS get along.” 

A slap on his back made the taller stumble forward slightly, aquamarine eyes sending the blond a deadly glare. 

“Stop moaning, I get my ass handed to me on a silver platter daily! Now go get it over with, the longer you wait the worse the thrashing.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yup.” 

John chuckled softly and shook his head, standing up straighter. He would go and find his brothers, but he had been partially blown up, ad he was currently a mess. “I’ll tell them in a few hours. I need to get changed and look presentable.” 

“Uh huh.” The blond rolled his eyes and gripped his space brother’s elbow as they walked out the hanger towards John’s room. “I’m so not being your backup.”

A grin appeared on the red-head’s face. “I’ll help you with your next prank.” 

That stopped the aquanaut mid pace. John was the best prankster of the family. Even he had to admit that. “On anyone?” He grinned back at the nod. “You are so on.” There were already plans running through his head on who he could prank and how. 

“I was thinking Scott.” John murmured, aware they were entering the villa. Smother hen territory. “We can get a animatronic doll and link controls into it. Have it follow him around.” 

Eyes widened, and a grin widened. “That. Is perfect. But you’re controlling it. I don’t have a good excuse for using dad’s desk.” Gordon chuckled, patting his brother’s head like a dog. That earned him a smack. 

“Fair. But you’re helping me first.” John narrowed his eyes at his brother as they arrived at his room, opening the door. His room was as pristine as always, kept clean from dust by their grandma. 

Gordon nodded, watching John throw off the slightly burnt (thank GOD) shirt and grab a new one. “Fair. “Who do you think we’ll see first?”

The astronaut let out a soft chuckle, slipping the NASA t-shirt over his head. “Scott. He’s got his scooter sense. Virgil we’ll just stumble upon.”

The mentioned scooter sense must have been tingling, because on cue Scott stood in the doorway of the room, arms crossed. “John? Gordon?” 

“Told you.” 

Gorgon flashed John a reassuring grin, stepping in front of Scott. “How good of a mood are you in right now?”

“... What did you do?” 

“Hey! What makes you think it’s always me?!” Gordon growled lightly and smacked Scott’s hand down when the pilot raised it to start listing off reasons. “Well, it’s not.” 

Scott stared at the younger before his gaze travelled to John, eyes narrowing. “John?” 

“I..” Now he was done for. “Blew up the maintenance panel in One’s hanger..” It was mumbled, and he looked away. 

“What?” 

Slightly louder. “Blew up the maintenance panel in One’s hanger..” 

“John, speak up.” 

John could feel the worried gaze that was directed in his direction. A small part of him felt like fleeing back to the space elevator. Avoid owning up and hide away until it was a forgotten incident. He shoved it away.  “I blew up the maintenance panel in One’s hanger! I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to check on something and there was a spark and the next thing I knew the whole thing had-!” 

He was cut off by strong arms wrapping around him. Instinct froze him up, mouth clamping shut and body falling rigid. A few seconds passed and he recognised those arms. 

Virgil. When did he get here?

His body relaxed into them before he could register it. 

“Hey, it’s okay. We can repair it. Just take a breath, alright?” 

John found himself following the instruction. He was tired, that’s what he was going to blame this on. He was running on a bad schedule, and the lack of sleep had made him slightly emotional. That’s all it was. 

Through blurry vision he could see Virgil frowning, Scott and Gordon mirroring the expression behind the engineer. There was a hand on his shoulder, and John knew it was Virgil’s. Alan was out with Kayo, and Grandma was dealing with Tracy Industries. 

“I-” He wiped tears away with his sleeve, and things became clearer. When had he sat down? 

“We can replace the panel John, Brains can get on it when he’s finished. Are you okay?” 

Scott sounded worried. He wasn’t meant to worry Scott. John nodded softly, moving to stand up. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about-” 

“Don’t. It’s not your fault.” There was a smile on Gordon’s face. “Besides, you’re not the first one to blow it up.” 

Scott cuffing the aquanaut over the head brought a smile to John’s face. Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. 

Well, at least not until Scott would find out about how he helped Gordon prank him the next week. Then he was dead for sure. 

But for now? He was content to stay leaning against the artist of the family.

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: an enemies to lover shot for Juke please

Seeing as you asked so nicely, I couldn’t not do this. This trope, man. I love it so much. Thank you for the suggestion! Also, I gave Julie my own comfort song (it’s held that title for about two years now lol) and I highly suggest you all go listen to it.

Rhythm in my Heart

Julie was beginning to wonder whether joining a band on a whim purely because the boy she had known for twenty minutes had asked her to was really the best idea.

It had gone like this: Julie had been looking for Flynn in the lunch hall but hadn’t been able to see her anywhere. That was weird, mainly because Flynn’s tendency to dress in colours brighter than stars usually made her recognisable anywhere, but also because Julie had seen her just five minutes ago. They had been stood in the line together, Flynn had got her food and hurried off to find a table, but now Julie just couldn’t seem to spot her anywhere.

So, Julie had begun wandering the lunch hall in search of Flynn. Granted, she could have been a little more careful as she did so instead of paying very little attention to her surroundings, but she couldn’t help but be a little worried. Flynn didn’t just disappear like this; normally it was hard to prise her from Julie’s side.

In short, Julie hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on around her as she meandered through the lunch hall. Which was why it was partially her fault when she walked right by somebody just as they jumped out of their seat and threw their arms in the air, knocking her tray from her hands and sending food flying.

Flying right into Julie’s face.

As she blinked tomato sauce out of her eyes, Julie could feel the eyes of hundreds of Los Feliz’s students on her, could practically hear them gawking and taking photos of her as she stood there covered in spaghetti. She was dimly aware of somebody apologising over and over again, but all she was really conscious of was the fact that she was angry. Really angry.

Julie wiped furiously at her face, picked a long strand of spaghetti off her jumper, and glared at the person stood in front of her, the one who had knocked her tray. It was a boy, maybe a year or two older than her, and she had to admit that he did look apologetic. But that wasn’t the point – all the puppy-dog eyes in the world wouldn’t get sauce stains out of her best jumper.

“I am so sorry,” the boy said when Julie locked eyes with him. He picked up a napkin with fumbling fingers and began dabbing at the hem of her jumper. She yanked the material away from him and, if possible, glared harder. The boy shrank away a little.

She swiped the napkin from his hand. “I got it,” she hissed.

“Um, I’ll, um… I can buy you another lunch?” the boy offered, scratching at the back of his head. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have whacked the tray, I… Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” Julie seethed. “You can leave me alone.”

With that, she picked up the tray off the floor, dusted herself off a little more in an attempt to retain some sort of dignity, then tried to brush past the boy.

“My name is Luke, by the way,” he called after her. Julie didn’t respond, she just kept walking.

Luckily, even through all the stares and jeers and people getting in her way purely to laugh at her, it didn’t take Julie too long to find Flynn afterwards. She was sat right at the back of the hall at what appeared to be the only empty table, scrolling on her phone. When she saw Julie heading her way, she gave her usual bright smile, but it melted into mingled confusion and disgust when she saw that Julie was in fact covered in pasta and sauce.

“You got a little something there,” Flynn said, pointing to her own cheek. She was very clearly trying not to laugh, which Julie didn’t appreciate it.

“Thanks,” she deadpanned, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Is there a reason you’re wearing your lunch instead of eating it?”

“You didn’t see?” Julie asked.

Flynn shook her head then scrolled down a little on her phone and said, “Ah. Now I see.”

Julie’s eyes widened and she grabbed Flynn’s phone in a panic. Sure enough, multiple pictures of Luke knocking her tray and her being covered in food had already made their way onto Instagram. With a frustrated sigh, she handed Flynn’s phone back to her.

“I hate this school,” she said.

Flynn patted her arm comfortingly. “At least you have your amazing and supportive best friend by your side.”

“You’re still trying not to laugh.”

Flynn snorted, but quickly tried to mask her amusement again. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry,” she said in between laughs, “but it’s hard to take you seriously when there’s spaghetti in your hair.”

The whole incident had taken up enough time that there was only five minutes left of the lunch period anyway. Julie put her tray away and headed to the toilets to clean up as best she could – all she could really do was wash her face with the scalding water that came from the school’s taps, but it was better than nothing.

She tried to let the rest of the day cheer her up, but it just wouldn’t work. Not even the fact that she had dance class with Flynn and Nick could brighten her mood. She really needed a miracle.

Whenever Julie was feeling down, music was the one thing that could cheer her up. That had always been the way. When she was young, it had been the soothing, melodic voice of her mother Rose that had been the thing to calm her down; as she grew up, her comfort songs had been ballads by her favourite bands; nowadays, Julie’s own music was what she used to cope. Making her own music, her own sound, it felt so personal and freeing that it just made sense that it would help her out of any dark place.

So, when school finished, she headed down to the music rooms instead of going back home. Usually, if a student wanted the use of a music room after school they’d have to book it in advance, which Julie hadn’t, but she figured that she would only be in there for a few minutes so it wouldn’t matter.

She slipped into the closest and smallest music practise room – it housed only a piano, an amp, and a strange array of sheet music ranging from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8 to Jingle Bells. Julie quietly shut the door behind her and settled herself at the piano.

Just like that, she felt herself begin to relax. She could forget that her jumper was still stained, she could forget that even dance class hadn’t cheered her up, she could forget that anything bad had happened that day at all. She let her fingers rest atop the keys for just a moment before she began to play what was her current comfort song, Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche.

She lost herself and the bad feeling all in one go.

It wasn’t until she heard the door to the practise room opening that she stopped and remembered that she wasn’t actually supposed to be there.

She abruptly turned to face the door, standing up and grabbing her bag, ready to leave. In the doorway stood a boy with a bass guitar slung over his shoulder. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, and he was staring at Julie like he’d seen a ghost.

“Sorry,” she said hurriedly, “I didn’t realise somebody else had booked this room, I’ll go and you–”

“Dude,” the boy interrupted, coming into the room and letting the door fall shut behind him. “That was awesome! You shred on the piano, man!”

Julie recognised the expression on his face then. It was awe.

She laughed nervously. “It’s nothing. Thanks, though. I need to get going.”

The boy frowned as Julie tried to move past him out of the room. “You can stay if you want, I don’t mind. We can jam together! Or you could teach me piano – I’ve been trying to learn by myself, I only know a few chords so far, but I’m getting pretty good. Watch this!”

He put his bass down, readied his hands above the piano, and plonked out a basic chord pattern. When he was done, he turned to Julie and beamed proudly. She couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s great,” she said. “Well done. Are you sure you want me to stay? You booked the room, I don’t want to get in your way.”

The boy waved her away. “No, come on. It’ll be fun. We can write a song or something! My name’s Reggie.”

Julie hesitated for a moment, but then made up her mind. She smiled and said, “I’m Julie. Nice to meet you.”

For the next twenty minutes, Julie and Reggie sat side-by-side on the far too small piano stool as Julie tried to teach him how to play the piano. He was a quick learner, and within that time she had managed to help him block the chords for a country song he was wanting to write.

She was about to move on to telling him about basslines (which, she thought, he should have been pretty good at already since he had shown up with a bass guitar) when he gasped loudly and hit her arm.

“You should join my band!” he exclaimed.

“You have a band?” Julie asked.

Reggie nodded excitedly. “Yeah! We’re called Sunset Curve, we’re a rock band. Our rhythm guitarist just left and we’ve been looking for somebody to take his place.”

Julie pointed to the piano. “That’s not a guitar.”

“Well, no,” Reggie admitted, “but we don’t have a piano either and we’ve always talked about finding someone who could do it. It could be you, Julie! Think about how much fun it could be!”

“Who else is in your band?” Julie asked. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering it.

“It’s just me and two of my buddies, they play lead guitar and drums. We have a really good sound, but it would be awesome if we added a piano. What do you say?”

Julie didn’t know whether it was the stress of her bad day getting the better of her, or the relaxation of playing the piano, or just the fact that Reggie was impossible to say no to, but she found herself shrugging her shoulders and saying, “Sure. When do we rehearse?”

She was regretting that now.

It was the following weekend and Julie had just arrived at what Reggie had described to her as a studio. She wasn’t sure the dimly lit garage with a low-tech amp and half a drum kit could really qualify as a studio, but she supposed that the homely touches like the dartboard and some drawings hung on the wall made it feel a little nicer. She shrugged off her coat and then regretted it because it was freezing cold in the ‘studio’.

“Hey Julie,” greeted Reggie excitedly. He waved at her from his perch atop the amp, beckoning her over. “Come and meet the guys!”

Julie headed in his direction and saw that he was sat with two other boys. One of them, a blond with a shy smile wearing a thick pink hoodie, was sat behind the incomplete drum kit – he gave a little wave with a drumstick in his hand and said, “Hey, I’m Alex, how’s it going?”

“Nice to meet you,” she replied. “I’m Julie.”

Julie turned to the other boy and immediately felt her face fall. The last time she’d seen him she’d had tomato sauce in her eyes but there was still no chance that she would forget those stupid puppy-dog eyes and that ridiculous haircut – it was the idiot who had spoiled her lunch.

“You,” she seethed.

The boy – what was his name? Lucas? Lydon? Larry? – looked utterly terrified. He took a step back from Julie with a nervous laugh and hit his back on Reggie’s amp.

“Hey… Fancy seeing you here!” he said, trying for a smile but failing miserably.

Reggie and Alex looked between each other, confused.

“You two know each other?” Alex asked.

“Know is a strong word,” the lunch-ruiner said nervously. “We’ve met.”

“Unfortunately,” Julie growled. She turned to Reggie. “I’m not sure this is going to work out, Reggie. I’m sorry.”

Reggie looked hurt, which was the only reason Julie didn’t walk out of the room right that moment. “Oh, come on, Julie! You’ve got him all wrong!”

“I’m sure whatever Luke did to upset you was stupid and entirely his fault,” said Alex (to which Luke – Luke, that was his name, she remembered now – weakly protested, “Hey!”), “but from what Reggie’s told us we could really use you in the band. We’d love to have you and we promise to try and keep Luke on his best behaviour.”

Julie sighed heavily, frowning as she looked between the boys. She knew that Reggie was an absolute sweetheart, and Alex seemed to be kind and sensible – maybe she could hold a grudge against Luke and the other two band members could make it work.

“Fine,” she huffed, pointing a finger at Luke. “But I’m not promising that I’ll like you.”

He shook his head, eyes wide. “It’s cool. Thanks for sticking around.”

The rehearsal went… interestingly. The piano they’d got Julie was hardly a piano at all – it was a little keyboard that only ranged two octaves and its keys were tiny, although it did have a delightful range of demos and sounds that Reggie spent ten minutes trying out. When they got to playing, Julie could hardly even hear herself, but the others all seemed to think it sounded good.

Julie found out that Luke was on lead vocals with Alex and Reggie backing him. He had written out a score for all their parts including his vocal line, but when he sang part of it Julie realised it was wrong – he was singing an E when it very clearly stated on the sheet music that it was supposed to be a C-sharp. She wasn’t going to say anything (it was her first day with the band and she didn’t want to overstep by correcting the boy who seemed to be their unofficial leader) but eventually it got too annoying.

“You’re singing that line wrong,” she told him flatly. Everyone looked to her, eyes wide.

“What?” Luke said, smiling but sounding insulted. “I’m pretty sure I’m not.”

She shrugged lightly. “I’m pretty sure you are, but go off, I guess.”

Luke’s smile widened even more but didn’t reach his eyes - definitely fake, definitely passive-aggressive. “What do you think I’m doing wrong?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Julie pointed to the music. “You’re singing an E on this line, but you’ve written a C-sharp. Want me to demonstrate?”

“I got it,” Luke snarled, snatching the music.

“I’d like to hear Julie demonstrate,” Reggie piped up, raising his hand. “Please, Julie?”

“Happily,” Julie said. “You’re singing this: I got a spark in me.” She ended on an E. “You’ve written this: I got a spark in me.” She ended on the C-sharp.  “Personally, I think what you’re singing sounds better than what you’ve written, but you’ll need to change one of them.”

Luke scowled. “Thanks. But I told you, I’ve got it.”

Julie turned to Alex and Reggie - both of whom had been watching their back and forth like a thrilling tennis match, heads bobbing in one direction then another - but now both of them were staring at Julie with their mouths ajar, seemingly unable to close them. 

“Woah,” Reggie breathed.

“You’re amazing, Julie,” Alex said. 

Reggie flung his hand into the air. “All those in favour of making Julie our new lead singer?”

Alex’s hand joined Reggie’s and slowly, just to annoy Luke further, Julie raised her own hand. Luke looked furious and betrayed.

“Hey,” he said, wounded, “I’m our lead singer.”

“Dude, that girl has the voice of an angel,” Reggie told him matter-of-factly, pointing at Julie who beamed back at him. “And if we make her our lead singer, you’ll be able to focus on things like neatening up your guitar solos.”

Luke gasped indignantly. “My guitar solos are perfectly neat!”

“Actually,” Julie interjected, “I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re coming in late on bar twenty-eight.”

Luke ignored her. “I’m our lead singer,” he repeated.

“Why don’t you share it?” Alex suggested, standing up. From the way Reggie and Luke immediately paid attention to him, Julie got the impression that Alex often had to act as a mediator when it came to band-based arguments. His unimpressed expression hinted that maybe he’d had to do this same thing one too many times. “You can both be lead singers. I think that’ll work - both of your voices are too good to omit completely.”

“You’ve heard her sing one line!”

“And she did it better than you,” Alex said flatly. “Now can we please carry on with rehearsal?”

Luke grumbled something, but readied his guitar again. Julie began playing her chords and, assuming they’d made their decision that both of them were going to be the lead, began to sing.

*

“So what you’re telling me is that you have a huge crush on this guy.”

“I have absolutely no idea where you got that from.”

Three weeks had passed since Julie’s first rehearsal with the boys. After a suggestion from Reggie and a heated debate that had transformed into a full-blown argument between Julie and Luke, Sunset Curve had been renamed to Julie and the Phantoms. Julie would now sing the melody with Luke on harmonies (an arrangement that had been painful to reach), and Alex and Reggie were happy to stay on backing vocals.

Julie was at her favourite ice cream parlour with Flynn - they were both tucking into enormous ice cream sundaes that both had claimed they would be able to finish but likely wouldn’t, and Julie was trying to tell Flynn about how annoying Luke had been at rehearsal the other day.

“I got it from the way you talk about him,” Flynn said, accusingly pointing her spoon at Julie. “And from the way your face looks when you talk about him. And from what I saw when I picked you up from rehearsal the other day.”

Julie shook her head. She did not have a crush on Luke.

“You’re going to need to explain a little better than that,” she told Flynn.

Flynn sat up straighter, smiling brightly. “Gladly. First of all, the way you talk about him - you may be describing your arguments, but you throw in compliments that are disguised as insults.”

“I do not do that,” Julie scoffed.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “I can give examples. Like ‘He would be a lot easier to like if he didn’t have such a distractingly perfect smile, it gets in the way’. Or how about—”

“Okay,” Julie said, raising her hands. “I don’t need more examples. Just... just carry on explaining.”

“The way your face looks when you talk about him,” Flynn continued. “It’s kind of gross, actually. You go all starry-eyed and you smile like a dope, and if I’m honest I don’t understand how you don’t realise you’re doing it. Like, surely you feel your cheeks hurt when you smile that wide?”

“Ha ha,” Julie monotoned.

“I’m not joking.”

“Whatever. What else makes you so sure I like Luke? Which I do not.”

Flynn looked triumphant, as if whatever she said next would be the end of the discussion.

“The other day, when I came to the studio to walk you back to mine, Alex and Reggie came out way before you two. And when you and Luke finally emerged, you were both doing the heart-eyes-and-smile combo. And you were punching each other all playfully, which is definitely flirting. Then you tried to play it off like it was an actual argument!”

Julie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” she said. It was Flynn’s turn to roll her eyes. “It doesn’t! Just because he wasn’t unbearable that one time, it doesn’t mean I like him. In any way.”

“If you’re sure,” Flynn said, half defeated and half resigned.

“I am.”

But the thing was, Julie absolutely was not sure.

The band rehearsed the next day. Luke had managed to line up a gig that would take place in a fortnight’s time, so they were trying to get as much practise in as possible. In Julie’s extremely biased opinion, their set sounded fabulous - she had grudgingly worked with Luke to write most of it, and though she hated to say it, when they wrote together their songs were phenomenal.

As usual, Alex and Reggie headed out first. Really, that shouldn’t have been the case seeing as Alex’s instrument took the longest time to disassemble and Reggie was easily distracted, but Julie and Luke normally ended up being the last two there. It had started when Julie had reluctantly hung around to apologise to Luke for stealing his role of lead singer, and had become something of a habit.

“I was thinking,” Luke said to her as he packed away his guitar, “if we get Reggie and Alex to add echoes to the chorus in Great, it could sound really good. What do you think?”

Julie smiled. “Yeah. It’s a great idea, I’m surprised you thought of it.”

“Very funny,” Luke said, rolling his eyes. Julie noticed the tiny smile playing about his lips and couldn’t help but fight a smile of her own. “You are so hilarious it’s unbelievable.”

“I try,” she said with a shrug. And then her mouth didn’t consult her brain before saying, “Are you doing anything now?”

Luke looked at her, bewildered. “Why? Are you?”

Julie blinked, caught off guard by the situation. She hadn’t meant to say that. Now it sounded like she wanted to do something with him. She wasn’t meant to want to do something with him because Julie and Luke didn’t like each other. That was their whole relationship - dislike! She couldn’t ruin that by spending time with him.

Again, her mouth spoke before her brain could catch up. “No. Do you want to hang out, do something together? Just the two of us?”

Luke looked as confused as Julie felt.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sounds good.”

They didn’t end up leaving the studio. Instead, they sat together on the couch that Luke and Reggie had dragged in off the street one day (Alex and Julie had both refused to sit on it until they’d disinfected it thirty times and checked it for any number of animals, ranging from spiders to rats (god forbid)) and tried to work on some new songs.

Luke pulled his songbook out for inspiration and handed it to Julie to skim through. She skipped past the songs they had already performed or rehearsed to some further back. Luke, unlike any sane person, didn’t use his notebooks chronologically, so there were new songs and very old ones mixed in throughout.

Julie found herself not turning one page for a while. Eventually Luke realised that she wasn’t listening to him talk about chords, and looked over her shoulder. When he saw what she was reading, he snatched the book away.

“Why don’t we just try and think up something completely different to our usual stuff,” he suggested, clearly trying to change the subject.

Julie didn’t want to press.

She did anyway.

“That seemed pretty different to our usual stuff,” she said softly. “Luke... who’s Emily?”

She knew she didn’t have a right to be upset. She didn’t know why she was upset. It wasn’t as if she liked Luke; if he had a girlfriend or someone he fancied enough to write a song about then that was none of her business. She didn’t get to fret over the love life of a boy she didn’t even like.

Luke looked at her for a long time. She held eye contact. She could see the cogs turning in his head, see him considering whether or not to tell her.

Finally, he sighed and said, “Emily is my mom.”

Julie tried not to react. She hadn’t been expecting that response, and upon hearing that Emily wasn’t Luke’s girlfriend something inside her did a happy little jump. But Luke’s face was solemn and tense, so Julie knew that she had to be sensible right now. Obviously, whatever Luke was saying wasn’t something easy.

“Your mom?” she prompted.

Luke nervously tugged his beanie a little lower. “Yeah... she’s my mom. I wrote that for her last year. She... I... We... We had an argument - well, we had loads of arguments - but this was the worst one. I ran away from home after it happened and I’ve not been back or seen her at all. I... I wanted to do something for her or at least get some stuff off my chest, so I wrote that song.”

“Do Alex and Reggie know?” Julie asked tentatively.

“About the song or the argument?”

“Both.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they know. They’ve played the song with me before, and our old rhythm guitarist Bobby did too. It was really cool of them - they don’t bring it up unless I do first. It’s kind of hard sometimes. Like, I want to talk about it, but I don’t want to be the one to start. I wish they would sometimes.”

Julie nodded. “I get it.”

He shook his head. “And they let me sleep at their houses before I found my own place - here.” He gestured vaguely around the studio.

Julie felt her eyes widen. The draughty roof, the leaky walls, the way that the couch and thin blanket was the only bed in sight.

“You live here?” she said, astounded.

He shrugged. “It’s not much. It’s all I’ve got. And... well, I’d like to go home one day, anyway. It isn’t permanent.”

Julie had no response. Luke was practically homeless, living in their studio. It was nothing. Nothing. He had nowhere to go.

“You can come and stay at my house whenever you want,” Julie said quickly. “My dad won’t mind. He won’t want you sleeping in the cold.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.”

“I am.”

There was silence for a moment. Luke looked at Julie and Julie looked at Luke. She felt on the edge of something, she didn’t know what. Being there with Luke felt... exciting, even despite the conversation they were having. Just the two of them, alone, talking without walls built around themselves.

“I really do get it, you know,” she said quietly. “How it feels not to see your mom.”

Luke straightened up, his face scrunched in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Julie took a deep breath. “My mom passed away about a year ago. Music was our thing... it took me ages to play again without her. I still haven’t been able to face writing about her or anything like that. But my point is that I know how it feels to have the most important person in your life missing. There one day and gone the next.” She huffed a mirthless laugh that turned into a sniffle.

She felt Luke take her hand.

“You are not alone, Julie.”

She held his hand in return.

“Neither are you.”

*

“Oh please, you two are so in love!” Flynn exclaimed when Julie told her the story. Julie smacked her arm.

“It’s not love,” she insisted. “But... fine, maybe I like him. He’s a lot different to how I first thought.”

“What are you going to do?” Flynn asked excitedly, her legs bouncing up and down.

Julie sighed. “I have no idea.”

*

It turned out that Julie didn’t need to have any idea of what she was going to do. It happened naturally.

Julie and the Phantoms finished their set at the gig Luke had booked them - with a flourish and a fancy trick of the light that Flynn and Julie had helped Reggie sort out, the boys disappeared off stage in the blink of an eye, and the audience applauded Julie as she instructed them to, “Tell your friends!”

It had gone swimmingly. Julie had hit the high note in Bright perfectly despite struggling with it in almost every rehearsal; Luke’s harmonies had been on point; Alex had more confidence with each song, adding more complicated drum fills as time went on; and as usual Reggie’s incredible stage presence had the audience howling and enjoying themselves. Julie was proud of all of them to an almost dangerous degree.

Elated, she hurried off stage after the boys. They were all huddled together backstage and grinned when they saw Julie coming towards them.

She didn’t think. It happened automatically. Running on adrenaline, she flung herself at Luke, crushing him in a tight hug. Luckily it appeared that he was ready too, because he hugged her back with ferocity and lifted her off her feet, spinning them around.

“You were incredible, Julie,” he said, laughing, “they were loving you!”

“They loved us,” Julie said as Luke put her down. 

She had intended to congratulate Alex and Reggie too, but suddenly found herself unable to look away from Luke. His hands were still on her waist, and hers on his shoulders. She didn’t want either of them to move.

Distantly, she heard Alex and Reggie shuffle away.

“Listen, Julie,” Luke said, voice raspy. “Ever since... I was going to say ‘ever since our conversation in the studio’ but actually I don’t know when it started. Ever since sometime, I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

She swallowed. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something too.”

“I hope it’s the same as what I have to say,” Luke laughed. Then he turned a little more serious again. “It’s... I really like you, Julie. I think you’re an amazing singer and you improve the band a ton and you make me a better writer. You make me a better person. I just... I really like you.”

Julie couldn’t help but smile. “I really like you too, Luke. I really, really like you.”

“Really?” he asked, beaming.

“Really.”

“Thank god,” he said, and Julie couldn’t help but laugh. “The guys said you did but I wasn’t sure.”

“Tell me about it,” Julie said, “Flynn’s been on at me about this for ages.”

He laughed, smiling and ducking his head. “You really are something, Julie.”

She playfully punched his arm. “So are you.”

[haikyuuwaifu]

Rockabye

Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff

Warning: Swearing, Mentions of Abandonment

Bakugo x F Reader x Shinsou Poly

Masterlist

Y/N Finds Out|-Todoroki Chat| The School Incident| Sero’s Torture

The School Incident

Pulling into the school parking lot Y/N parked her car. Softly she leaned forward placing her head on the steering wheel. Evening her breaths she tried to curb the rage she was feeling towards her family. Sometimes they could be so fucking ridiculous. Huffing she clapped her hands, they’d get what was coming to them; but first she needed to deal with this stupid meeting.

Stepping out of her car she noticed another person that had parked next to her. Smiling politely he nodded in return. Silently the both of them made their way to the front of the school. As they reached the door, the man next to her grabbed it ushering her in before him. Muttering a thank you, Y/N continued forward towards the administration office. Taking in the art on the walls, the man next to her finally spoke. “Are you here for a parent teacher conference?” he asked softly. Y/N smiled tightly nodding her answer. “I’d like to apologize in advance for whatever it is my granddaughter did.” he huffed out, shaking his head. Y/N tipped her head back bell like laughter reaching the stranger’s ears. “I’m sure whatever is, my son is partially responsible. He has a bit of a mouth on him” she stated grinning fondly. The stranger snorted. “So does my granddaughter.” he paused slightly. “I don’t know if my husband is to blame, or her fathers; but I guess we’ll find out.” Nodding they carried on in silence. 

Walking past her sons class, Y/N peeked through the little window to see that his normal teacher wasn’t in there. Letting out a low whine she stomped her foot childishly. The man next to her took a peek as well and stepped back with a grimace. “Of course that crazy bitch would be in the meeting.” she sneered arms crossing as they continued on. Letting out a chuckle the man next to her responded. “So Aiko-san doesn’t like you either?” rolling her eyes, Y/N waved her arm in front of her. “Of course she doesn’t like me. I’m a single mom to a 6 year old boy. Naturally, I’m the scum of the earth to miss priss.” Side eyeing him she asked, “Why doesn’t she like you? She sad you’ve got a husband or something?” Chuckling deeply he shook his head. “No...She doesn’t like me because every time there is something remotely related to school my husband and I come in place of her two dads.” “Are you...are you fucking serious?” Y/N huffed out in disbelief. “Like does she not understand that they’re gay or like?” eyes moving to the wall sentence trailing off. Choking out a bark of laughter he continued. “They’re not gay, by any means...my son found his daughter on his doorstep one night when she was a baby, and he and his best friend decided they would raise her with their girlfriend at the time...” he stated trailing off his sentence as well. Y/N could sense the tension in the subject and let it drop. She was never one to pry in anyone’s business. The man next to her found a respect for that.

Making idle chit chat the two adults made it to the office. Sliding the door aside, Y/N stepped through first, the man following behind her. Immediately her eyes fell upon the woman in front of her. Fake saccharine smile on her face. Bowing, she gave her greeting. “Good morning sir, Aiko-san.” Clapping his hands, the Principle bowed greeting them. “Ms. L/N, Mr. Aizawa thanks for coming in so early. We wanted to handle the situation as soon as possible.” He made a motion for the two to take a seat. With a start Aiko spoke a tight lipped smile on her face. “Mr. Aizawa, I was under the impression that Eri-chan’s fathers would be here today.” Y/N seized Aizawa’s sleeve squeezing as she tried to keep the screech she wanted to release at bay. He smirked trying to hold in his own laughter and turned to answer the statement. “Yes well, they had an urgent business meeting that needed their attention. My husband had classes and I was available. Apologies if that is not what you were expecting.” he nodded matching saccharine smile on his face.

“As fun as this is, can we please get started, I have errands to run; and I wouldn’t want to pull Ryuji and Eri-chan from their studies Aiko-san.” Y/N declared voice sickeningly sweet. Nodding along the principal spoke. “There seemed to be an incident invovling Eri-chan and Ryuji-kun yesterday on the playground. Typically Eri-chan is a very sweet tempered child, but it honestly floored the faculty when the words came out of her mouth.” The principal stated quite uncomfortable. Nodding her head Y/N made a forward motion with her hand. “Ryuji-kun in turn retaliated and that resulted in the two of them getting into a physical altercation.” Y/N sat trying to internalize the words the principal was telling her.

“I’d like to speak to my son and the little girl, before we discuss further action.” she stated unclenching Aizawa’s sleeve. “That won’t be necessary L/N-san we’ve already decided what ac-” interrupting her Aizawa spoke. “I would also like to speak to the children Aiko-san. No offense, but it’s not up to the faculty to dish-out the punishment regarding two children.” the principal nodded his head. “Aizawa-san makes a valid point Aiko-san.” Squaring her shoulders she sneered. “This is the first time I’ve heard of this sir, I was under the impression that we were the ones in charge of the children, not the other way around.” Standing toe to toe with the woman, Y/N crossed her arms. “And I was under the impression that university taught you, how to properly handles small children. Sadly, the education system must have failed you.” Turning, she made her way out of the office. “I’d like to speak to my son now.”

The hallway was silent, as the four adults made their way to the classroom. Aizawa’s thoughts were surrounded by the woman next to him. Something about her seemed familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He had to admit that she seemed like a tough nut to crack. She had to be if she’s been a single mom for the last six years. Next to him Y/N was trying to think of what that child could have possibly said to cause such a reaction out of her son. Ryuji knows better than to put his hands on another person, unless he was provoked; but even then he knew better than to put his hands on a girl. Watching his Auntie Miruko beat up Keigo taught him that much at least.

The foursome made it to the classroom and Aiko-san slide the door open with a huff. She was hoping to talk to Mr. Shinsou and Mr. Bakugo, but maybe they’d come by next week for open house. Surely, she’d get her chance to show them; that she would be a perfect fit for them and their daughter. Stepping into the classroom, the children looked up. Eri’s smile left her face immediately upon the site of her grandfather. She had hoped one of her papa’s had come, she knew if they did she wouldn’t get in any trouble. Ryuji on the other hand sunk lower in his seat...He had hoped uncle Dabi or even Uncle Natsuo would come. They wouldn’t give him the whoopin he was sure to get from mama for hitting a girl.

With a gesture of her hand Y/N spoke. “Come out here Ryuji L/N, we’d like to discuss what exactly happened yesterday.” with a sigh, he nodded picking himself up and slowly dragging his feet as he made his way out the room. One look from Aizawa told Eri he expected the same. 

Standing next to each other the boy and the girl swayed on the balls of their feet. Neither one of them wanted to speak first, so Aizawa stepped forward crouching down to their level. “I’d like to know which one of you started it.” he stated eyeing the two children in front of them. Immediately both children started yelling and pointing at the other throwing around wild accusations. “I can tell you that it was definitely Ryuji-kun. He’s always been a problem c-”Y/N cut Aiko off with glare. “ I believe Aizawa-san was asking the children, not you Aiko-san.” she shivered slightly at the cold look in Y/N’s eyes.

The children’s voices rose as they continued to blame the other for the incident. With a huff, Y/N cleared her throat eyes narrowing slightly, arms crossed. At the sound of his mother’s throat clearing Ryuji’s body tensed. His hands clenched as he stopped the onslaught of words that were ready to come out. Eri, noticing his silence focused her eyes on the direction the sound came from. Meeting the cold eyes of the woman in front of her, the words on Eri’s lips vanished as she too tensed, hands folding together in front of her. Aizwa’s eyes widened slightly, mildly impressed. Very few people could force that kind of reaction out of Eri...Just who the hell was this woman?

“Now one at a time, I’d like to hear what was exchanged and why.” she declared, voice firm. Shuffling his feet Ryuji, looked up blue eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’m not going to fall for that Ryuji, I’m not uncle Shoto. Now tell me the truth.” she muttered eyes narrowing. “I guess...it was kind of my fault... I was...It was arts and crafts time, and I was making something. The other kids were talking about how they were making things to show their parents for open house next week.” he mumbled softly. Y/N crouched down titling his chin up. “Speak clearly, Ryuji, so I can hear you properly.” “ Someone asked me if I was going to make anything for my parents; when one of the kids said I didn’t have any parents.” he sniffed. Next to him, Eri took his hand. “ It’s my fault too ma’am... I was sitting at that table...and I didn’t say anything to stop it.” shaking her head Eri continued. “I was...jealous?” she questioned looking to her grandfather. Aizawa nodded to confirm that she had been using the right word. “I was jealous...Ryuji talks about his mom all the time, and how great she is and how cool she is.” she mumbled. “He talks about how she makes him lunches and bakes treats for him when he’s having a bad day.” Y/N’s heart squeezed as she listened to the little girl ramble on. Ryuji scoffed, squeezing Eri’s hand. “I mean yeah, I’ve got a mom; but you have two dads!” “Do you know how cool it would be if I had even one of those?” Eri snorted. “They aren’t that great, one of them only likes to cook spicey food and the other one tells really lame jokes.” Aizawa chuckled fondly.

“So you were jealous of the other person and you let your emotions get the better of you?” Y/N asked smiling fondly at the children in front of her. Both of them nodded eyes wide with unshed tears. “What did you two say to each other?” shaking his head Ryuji answered. “I feel really shitty about it now ma, but I told her that her mom didn’t love her and that’s why she’d never have a cool one like mine.” Y/N reached out pinching his arm. “Ow! I said I felt shitty about it okay?” he swore rubbing the soreness away. “I told him he’d never get a dad cause his mom was probably a loose lipped whore.” Eri stated refusing to look at her grandfather. Aizawa choked on his spit, as Y/N’s lips opened peals of laughter falling out. “Where the hell did you learn that from?” he demanded. “I heard Uncle D bring it up one time.” In that moment, Aizawa was sure he was going to murder his sons assistant, slowly and brutally.

“Now, who hit who first?” Y/N asked eye brow raised at her son. “Well, technically she hit me first, cause I called her a dumb bitch, and then we were tumbling on the ground.” Ryuji declared scratching the back of his neck. Heaving a sigh, Y/N shook her head. ‘I’ve really got to get on those idiots about his language.’ Aizawa looked between the two children eyes in comic disbelief. “ And what made you decide to hit him Eri” he asked heading coming as he knew her answer would closely resemble something Bakugo would say. “Tch, papa taught me that I don’t let anyone talk to me that way. I wasn’t gonna let some stupid extra do it.” she huffed. Clapping her hands Y/N stood. “ I think, that under the circumstance they can apologize and that will be that, what say you Aizawa-san?” Turning he nodded. “I think that would be fine as well.” Both children turned apologizing. “Now say something nice to each other.”

“I think you’ve got a really good punch Eri!” clapping her hands she smiled. “Thanks! My dad’s taught me, your punch is really good too, it packs a lot of power for someone so small.” Ryuji nodded a sense of pride. “My mom taught me, she’s the best fighter of the family.” Clapping his hands the principal ushered the children back into the classroom. The two of them already making plans to color and swap stories at play time. Y/N turned to Aiko and spoke, “Next time this happens I want a conference scheduled immediately, just because you yourself do not have children does not mean you fully understand the struggles they themselves go through.” Aiko opened her mouth to respond when Aizawa stepped forward, “It would do well to remember that I am a tenured professor in the UA district. If something like this isn’t treated properly again I’ll have your job.” he sneered; turning at following Y/N out. Smiling softly he asked. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?” he asked. Nodding she responded, “I would, actually I’d like to pick your brain a little bit Aizawa-san.” And the two carried down the hallway plans made. Shouta knew Y/N was going to change the lives of everyone around him and he couldn’t wait to see it come into effect.

@dabilove27 @abyssmium @amarillyis @mushimoon14 @shikiry

[whiterabbitsystem]

tw: cocsa

We don’t usually talk about our trauma on this blog. And we don’t wanna accidentally trigger anyone. So just in case I’m gonna put this under a cut. But I feel like I need to write this and get it out.

I tried to tag all trigger warnings and I’m not gonna put any did tags. Please let me know if I missed any or if you need anything else tagged.

If you’ve ever seen Haunting of Hill House (spoiler if u havent) then you know the scene where Nell dies and keeps like, falling through moments in her past. That’s how it felt last night. I don’t know who was co-con with me but I kept hearing the name Malerie. That’s the name of our childhood friend who started it all.

So I was standing there at work, casually rolling silverware, chatting with people walking by. While someone else in headspace keeps going through these memories as if flipping through a slide show. I’m seeing all the things she did to us. And suddenly remembering how, for years, we were in denial about all of it. We didn’t think of it as abuse because she was one of our best friends, we were the same age, we were both girls, it didn’t hurt. Whatever. Stupid reasons. And this other part, I could tell she feels like it’s partially her fault for letting it happen and keeping it a secret. We thought that was the start of the abuse. But then we “fell” back into a further memory. We were about 4 years younger. And I remembered a neighbor girl from across the street. We were friends briefly during childhood before an incident occurred and our families never spoke again. But another slideshow started and I could see different times when it was clear she abused me. And she was much older than me. And I definitely didn’t know what was going on. It’s a strange feeling though because I literally can’t go into detail. I can’t type it or say it out loud. I can’t describe what she did and even if I try, the words just stop and I freeze up and can’t speak. So then the last slideshow happened. We were 2 years younger now with another neighbor boy from down the street. Our dads were friends and would work on cars together. My brothers and I would go over and hang out with his kids while they worked. And I remembered one time being alone in a room with his son and being exposed to some things and feeling dirty and wrong for the first time. Probably the first time because the memories stopped there. But it felt like rewinding a movie and stopping at all the bad parts. I could see the memory, I knew it was us. But I couldn’t feel it. And I know that’s because someone else is holding all those feelings for us.

We haven’t even brought this up to our therapist yet. So far we’ve only acknowledged the sexual abuse that happened at 15 and from then on. But I knew it started before that because we’ve been hypersexual since elementary school. I hate to admit that but it’s true. And I think another reason we haven’t told anyone about that yet is because it brings even more shame than the other assaults that happened later. We grew up feeling dirty and deviant and even demonic at some points and none of us could ever speak up about it. We never should’ve been exposed to sex that young and I need my sys mates to realize.. it was never our fault because kids can’t consent no matter what.

including these for the rest of the system to read later.

[potterotterdrafts]

A Bond to Remember-Updated 1/4/21

Stranger: (TW: Abuse mention) I need to apologize to you, Inspector. MH (O)

You: Whatever for?-GL

Stranger: Peter was rude to you. MH

Stranger: It was uncalled for and overly aggressive. MH

You: He's certainly not the first Alpha to shout profanities at me or accuse me of trying to steal his partner and I doubt he'll be the last in my line of work.-GL

Stranger: That doesn’t make it less worthy of an apology. MH

You: You're not the one who should be apologizing.-GL

Stranger: Perhaps not, but it is unlikely that Peter will admit his error. MH

You: Those types rarely see the error of their ways.-GL

Stranger: I suppose that is true. MH

You: How long has he been like that?-GL

Stranger: Stubborn and possessive? Always. MH

You: Does he abuse you?-GL

Stranger: I wouldn’t call it that. He disciplines me, certainly. I’m not a very well-behaved omega. MH

You: He's taught you that you need to be disciplined. He's given you a completely false idea of what a 'well-behaved' Omega is.-GL

Stranger: (...) He’s traditional. That is the reason my mother chose him. MH

You: It's an arranged bond?-GL

Stranger: Of course it is. I have nothing in common with Peter. I’d hardly choose him myself. MH

You: So why not leave?-GL

You: You've got enough money and power and connections.-GL

Stranger: I’m not certain I’m willing to risk his vengeance. He dislikes being crossed. MH

You: Couldn't you have him carted off to some island prison or something?-GL

Stranger: Not without cause. Despite what Sherlock may claim, I’m no supervillain. MH

Stranger: And as well, without sufficient reason, my petition for a bond scrubbing would likely be turned away. MH

You: Without sufficient reason? He's an abusive narsacist.-GL

Stranger: Narcissism, while irritating, is not considered valid grounds. And I would have to prove abuse. MH

Stranger: You needn’t concern yourself on my behalf. I’ve managed this long. MH

You: Then convince him you aren't worth the bond.-GL

Stranger: Why are you so concerned over this? MH

You: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.GL Doesn't really matter either. I just am.-GL

Stranger: I think you would find I am far more likely to believe the unexpected than you may believe. MH

Stranger: I am alright. He knows the risks of disciplining me too often or harshly. I am alright. MH

You: [delayed] I've been flirting with you for six months now and never worked out that you had an Alpha.-GL

Stranger: I...oh. MH

Stranger: Apologies. I didn’t mean to lead you on. MH

You: You didn't.-GL

You: You needed some positive attention in your life and I was more than happy to give it being the one to fancy you and all.-GL

Stranger: I should have told you. Warned you, I suppose. Mh

You: No, it's not your fault.-GL

You: I should have known you weren't available.-GL

Stranger: Still...I should have noticed. MH

You: I must be really bad at it. Certainly explains a lot.-GL

Stranger: Or I simply wasn’t paying attention. You’ve been very kind. MH

You: For whatever it's worth, I do care about you.-GL

Stranger: Thank you. MH

Stranger: I wish I had more to offer you than thanks. MH

You: You don't owe me anything more than that.-GL

Stranger: I know. But you’ve been terribly kind to me, and I appreciate it greatly. MH

You: I know you do. It's high time you got some appreciation.-GL

Stranger: I think most would disagree with you. MH

Stranger: I should let you go. I only meant to apologize for Peter, not take up so much of your day. MH

You: Take care, Mycroft.-GL

Stranger: You as well, Gregory. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. MH

You: I will. Same goes for you.-GL

Stranger: I’ll keep that in mind. MH

Stranger: ((Several weeks later)) Has Sherlock contacted you today? MH

You: He's been yelling about a case all morning, why?-GL

Stranger: There was an incident, I’m at the hospital. I didn’t want him exaggerating. MH

You: What happened? Are you alright?-GL

Stranger: I will be fine. I had an altercation with Peter. MH

Stranger: He discovered I’m pregnant, despite my best efforts, and he did not take it well. MH

You: Is the baby alright?-GL

Stranger: The doctors seem to think so, though they advise I rest for a few days. MH

You: That's good to hear. I'm glad you're both well.-GL Do you need anything?-GL

Stranger: Not at the moment. I simply wanted to ensure you weren’t given a false version of the story, and to warn you. MH

Stranger: Peter seems to believe the pup is yours, despite the fact that he has hardly been celibate. MH

Stranger: If he makes bail, he may try to seek you out. MH

You: Oh I can't wait to chat with him. Thanks for the heads up.-GL

You: (brb)

Stranger: Please be careful. I would hate to see you injured because of me. MH

You: It wouldn't be because of you. Your Alpha is free to make his own choices, Mycroft.-GL

Stranger: Yes, but the fact that he thinks /I/ am sleeping with you will influence those choices. MH

Stranger: Please, just take care. I know you are capable, but Peter is a brute when he’s angry. MH

You: I promise to be careful.-GL

Stranger: Thank you. MH

You: {A few days later.} How are you feeling?-GL

Stranger: Nauseous and a bit tired, but that is apparently normal. MH

Stranger: Healing well. They’ve moved me to a safe house until they locate Peter. MH

You: I've heard morning sickness can be a horrible thing to go through. Glad to hear you're healing well though.-GL And that you're safe.-GL I've got some good news for you. I know where Peter is.-GL

Stranger: You do? Where? MH

You: My flat.-GL

Stranger: (Delay) Why is he at your flat? MH

You: You were right about him coming to find me.-GL He came to rough me up a bit. Succeeded too.-GL

Stranger: Oh dear. MH

Stranger: Are you alright? MH

You: Yeah, I'm fine. Got one hell of a black eye, swollen and split lip and a broken hand.-GL

Stranger: My apologies. MH

Stranger: And...he’s still there? MH

You: Being looked over as we speak.-GL

Stranger: Oh. MH

Stranger: I will have Anthea send someone to collect him. MH

You: The police are already here. I'm pressing charges.-GL

Stranger: Alright then. MH

You: I should tell you too that I may have said some things because I was angry with him.-GL

Stranger: What sort of things? MH

You: [delayed] Other than that I thought he was a worthless Alpha and a disgrace to our kind I told him that the pup you carry probably is mine.-GL

You: And that I was going to take you for myself.-GL

Stranger: (Delay) Were you trying to enrage him? I’m amazed you only ended up with a broken hand and black eye. MH

You: I may have wanted an excuse to hit him, yes.-GL

You: Would you be upset if I told you that hand wasn't the worst of it?-GL

Stranger: What was the worst of it? MH

You: I may or may not have gotten clipped.-GL

Stranger: Clipped? By what? MH

You: A bullet to the side.-GL

You: Just above my old scar.-GL

Stranger: Oh, Gregory...you ought to see a doctor. MH

Stranger: You shouldn’t have antagonized him. Now you’re injured. MH

You: Don't worry. I'll go to the hospital in a bit. I've got patched up for the moment.-GL

You: He deserved it, Myc.-GL

Stranger: But was if necessary for you to be injured over it? MH

You: Comes with the territory, I suppose.-GL

Stranger: I’ll make sure you have adequate leave to heal. MH

Stranger: ((BRB))

You: You'll make sure to stay away from Peter.-GL

You: You deserve better than him, Myc, you and the pup do._GL

Stranger: The pup does, at least. MH

Stranger: I imagine Anthea will make me stay here until he is charged and remanded. MH

You: You do too, Mycroft. Absolutely.-GL

You: You should listen to Anthea.-GL

Stranger: I do listen to her. MH

Stranger: Take care of yourself, Gregory. You’ve been shot; you shouldn’t waste time on me. MH

You: It's not a waste. Never a waste.-GL

You: I'd get shot again for you if it came to that.-GL

Stranger: Perish the thought. MH

Stranger: (...)How badly were you ‘clipped’? MH

Stranger: Be truthful. MH

You: There was a lot of blood.-GL

You: Won't know until the doctor looks me over.-GL We're almost to the hospital.-GL

Stranger: Rather more than clipped, it seems. MH

Stranger: Keep me updated if you can. MH

Stranger: I’m sorry this has happened. MH

You: No more apologies from you until you're the person who fires the gun, yes?-GL

Stranger: You have to admit, this is at least partially my fault. It is because of me that he came after you. MH

You: [delayed] It's because I got too friendly with you. I care about you too much.-GL

Stranger: It’s because I didn’t alert you to the fact that I was bonded. MH

You: Wish you weren't.-GL

Stranger: (Delay) I’m sorry. MH

You: Not your fault.-GL Hopefully now you can get rid of Peter.-GL

Stranger: That is my hope. I only hope they won’t keep me from scrubbing the bond because of the pup. It can be rough on them. MH

You: I'll help as much as I can.-GL

Stranger: You will rest and heal. I suspect you’re injured more than you’re telling me. MH

You: Don't want to worry you.-GL

Stranger: I am already worried for you. MH

You: Then stop. I'll be fine.-GL

Stranger: Let me know once they tell you how long you will need to heal. MH

You: Promise.-GL

Stranger: Thank you. MH

You: [A week later] Got released today. All in one piece.-GL

Stranger: That is a relief. MH

Stranger: Are you able to manage things for yourself, or would assistance be better? MH

You: I'm sure it'll just be me in my flat doing more sleeping than anything else while I'm on these pain pills.-GL

Stranger: I could arrange for meals and a cleaning service if it would help. I owe you a great deal. MH

You: You spoil me.-GL

Stranger: It seems the least I can do. MH

You: I distinctly remember telling you to take care of yourself and your pup. Not to take care of me.-GL

Stranger: I can do more than one thing, you know. MH

Stranger: Besides, I’m terribly stubborn. You already knew that. MH

You: Yeah, yeah, I know.-GL

You: You're still alright though, yes?-GL

Stranger: I am fine, Gregory. My injuries are nearly completely healed. Just a bit of tenderness in my ribs. MH

You: That makes me feel better.-GL

Stranger: I wouldn’t ignore your concerns. MH

You: I know.-GL

You: I'd like to visit you.-GL

Stranger: I’m not sure you’re in good enough health to be visiting people, Gregory. MH

Stranger: Perhaps Anthea would allow me to visit you, though. MH

You: No, I know. It's home for me.-GL

Stranger: You /were/ shot, after all. MH

You: It's hardly the first time that's happened.-GL

Stranger: That is not the reassurance you think it is, Gregory. MH

Stranger: (Delay) Is tomorrow evening acceptable? I can bring you supper. MH

You: Are you sure it's alright that you come and visit me?-GL

Stranger: Peter is in jail awaiting his trial, and my morning sickness has lessened. I will be fine, Gregory. MH

You: Tomorrow's fine then.-GL

Stranger: Alright, thank you. MH

Stranger: What would you like for dinner? MH

You: How's thai?-GL

Stranger: Sounds excellent. MH

You: I look forward to seeing you.-GL

Stranger: As do I. I don’t trust you to be honest about your injuries with me. I want to check for myself. MH

You: Lucky for you, I'm too tired and medicated to argue.-GL

Stranger: I would prefer you not be injured. Then you wouldn’t need medication. MH

You: I just didn't see the gun, that's all.-GL

You: Got to keep a better eye out.-GL

Stranger: (Delay) I am glad your injuries weren’t worse. You took a great risk, antagonizing him. MH

You: I know, you've said.-GL

Stranger: I appreciate your intentions, though they were perhaps reckless. Your life is worth more than an excuse to hit Peter, Gregory. MH

You: He deserved it.-GL

Stranger: Apparently he plans to kill us both if he gets out. MH

You: I won't let him hurt you again.-GL

Stranger: You’re very determined. It’s unlikely he’ll get away; you can rest. MH

You: Sorry.-GL

Stranger: You needn’t apologize. MH

Stranger: I simply don’t want you to worry unnecessarily. MH

You: I always worry about you.-GL

Stranger: (...) I know. MH

You: As long as you know.-GL

Stranger: I don’t quite understand it, but I appreciate it. MH

You: Probably for the best.-GL

You: I'll see you later, Mycroft.-GL

Stranger: Of course. I look forward to it. MH

Stranger: ((Paras? I can start))

You: (sure, I'm down!)

Stranger: Mycroft arrived at Greg’s the next evening just after 6, not wanting to keep the recovering man up too late in case he was exhausted. He carried a bag with their dinner in one hand, and a folded blanket under his arm, and he’d dressed more casually in honor of the occasion. He rang the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He hadn’t seen Greg face to face in ages, since the night Peter first yelled at the other Alpha, and he was nervous about facing him.

You: Greg had spent most of the day sleeping in his bed, trying his best to manage the pain. That fight with Peter had been quite a tussel. Mycroft spoke the truth when he mentioned how brutish the other Alpha could be when agitated. Greg wasn't a young Alpha any longer and hadn't been in a true fist fight in years so Peter certainly took the upper hand for most of their sparing. By the time Mycroft asked to visit him his eye had opened up a bit but was still a dark purplish red and swollen. His lip was nearly back to normal (minus the cut), his hand and most of his forearm were in a cast, and his side was bandaged up from surgery under his shirt. He was slow on his way to the front door of his flat, holding a hand carefully over the bandage. "Hey..." He smiled at the man. "Come in..."

Stranger: Mycroft frowned when he saw the injured eye and the way Greg held his own side. “Good evening Gregory.” He said quietly, stepping inside, “We should get you settled, on the sofa perhaps? I know you’re not meant to be doing much yet.” He turned, offering his free arm to Greg. “I’ve brought you a blanket; I’m sir you have some already, but Anthea mentioned you were a big cold in hospital. I thought it might help.” He bit his lip, lapsing into silence as he watched the man uncertainly.

You: Greg closed the door behind Mycroft. "I just answered the door. I haven't run a marathon," he promised, slipping his arm through Mycroft's. "It was because of the blood loss..." he explained. "And because they always tend to keep the rooms cold to cut down on chances of infection and diseases, viruses, etc from spreading....sofa sounds good. I've been in bed most of the day except when I fixed myself some breakfast earlier...." Greg led them into the small living room and sat down on the sofa. "You look well. Lovely really. How far along are you?"

Stranger: Mycroft nodded, setting the blanket beside Greg and placing the bag of food on the table before sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. “Thank you. The doctor says I am just over 3 months.” He glanced at Greg, trying to read signs of the man’s condition in his movements and facial expressions, uncertain of how honest the man would be about his pain or exhaustion. “I did my best to get the food items I know you favor.” He remarked, “May I serve you some food?”

You: "You've got some time to go then. That's good. Gives you a chance to get through a trial and set up the nursery...." Greg nodded. "It smells great, I'm sure whatever you got will be just fine. I'm not really that picky about food. I'm a simple man to please, Mycroft." Greg pulled the blanket over his lap as he stretched his legs out in front of him. It smelled very much like Mycroft which he appreciated more than he should have. "I'm glad you came by."

Stranger: “I know you aren’t, Gregory. But if you’re going to have to host while you’re injured, the least I can do is make sure you have a meal you enjoy.” Mycroft smiled a bit, fixing Greg’s plate for him. “It gives me time to move as well. I don’t think I can continue living at the house, and my uncle left me a flat that has two bedrooms. It’s small, but that will make it easier for my security team to cover.”

You: Greg leaned forward and took the offered plate before Mycroft could offer anything as silly as hand feeding him. "You keep saying that everything is the least you can do. I wish you would stop. Peter's done such a number on you, Mycroft, he's got you thinking that you owe Alphas something. You don't owe any of us anything, yes? Even with the way I look. I was defending myself from the choices Peter made. You didn't force him to find me, you didn't pull the trigger of his gun. This was all him. I invited you here because I wanted to see you. It's been so long since we...just got to chat. I didn't invite you over here to make you feel guilty about this..." he waved his cast over himself.

You: (I have to run grab some dinner. I totally understand if you can't stick around. I'll save the log so we can pick up, if you'd like)

Stranger: ((I can stick around. I’m not doing anything else, lol))

You: (I'll be as quick as I can)

Stranger: Mycroft stiffened, nodding as he retreated to the other end of the sofa with his own food. “It’s not because I feel like I owe you. I do owe you a great deal, whether you are willing to acknowledge that or not, but it’s not the reason. You’re not making me feel guilty either. I consider you a friend, Gregory, and you’ve been harmed. It’s not unheard of to are for one’s friends when they are ill or injured.”

Stranger: *to care for

You: (Hi, sorry)

Stranger: ((No problem :) ))

You: "Well, that's a relief," Greg said. He didn't like the way Mycroft recoiled and moved himself to the other end of the sofa but that was something they could work on over time. Over dinner, Greg kept the conversation a bit lighter asking after Sherlock and John and any word of the world he'd missed over the last week. He asked about the pup and how excited Mycroft was to welcome a little one. He leaned forward and set his empty plate on the coffee table.

Stranger: Mycroft answered the questions, eating slowly and keeping an eye on Greg to make sure he wasn’t overtired. He avoided the question about being excited to a pup, redirecting to a question about Greg possibly returning to desk work in a couple of weeks. He eventually set his plate down as well, though he hadn’t finished his meal. “I’m glad you’re out of the hospital. You had us all worried.”

You: "If by worried you mean that Sherlock had a meltdown because he thought I'd die and leave him alone with no interesting cases, sure. He's going to have a rough few months...." Greg scrunched up his nose at the thought of desk work. "I'm scheduled to be out for about six weeks if everything heals up properly....then it'll be another six weeks on desk duty. Sounds boring even for me..." Greg noticed how Mycroft avoided certain questions and didn't finish his food which worried the Alpha. "Mycroft?" he asked. "Is something wrong? You barely touched your dinner and you don't seem...happy for the pup...you know there are options for you, right?"

Stranger: Mycroft shrugged. “I haven’t been terribly hungry lately.” He admitted, “The morning sickness is abating, but my appetite hasn’t returned yet.” He looked at Greg, shaking his head. “I can’t bring myself to get rid of the pup, even though it is Peter’s. I simply...I worry. I wonder if I can actually be the parent they deserve, or if I’ll even make it to term. I’m rather old for a first pup, and there is potential for issues with the bond scrubbing.”

You: Greg nodded in understanding. "I think you'll make a wonderful mum." Greg was absolutely positive of it. "You're a brilliant man, Mycroft. You may show a rather cold and aloof front to the world but it's not truly who you are. You care deeply for those around you...just look at all this..." he motioned to the dinner, the blankets, himself. "You left your safehouse to come and fuss over me for a little while..." he held up his hand. "You've been eyeing me all evening. I know you're over there trying to figure out if I've given you all the information on my own injuries truthfully. You're trying to monitor me for signs of pain, discomfort and exhaustion...." he hesitated a moment before continuing. "If you got the bond with Peter scrubbed would it be helpful to have someone else to bond with?"

Stranger: “After being stuck in hospital for a week, I’d say you’re due some fuss.” Mycroft replied, “I apologize; I’m used to keeping an eye on things, making sure I don’t overdo things if I’m injured. It’s become second nature to keep an eye on others as well.” He shifted, giving a tiny, humorless smile. “I imagine it would, to keep the hormones from surging and to protect the pup. But...I’m hardly a catch. I suppose I could put an ad in the paper; one somewhat used omega with pup, will pay well.”

You: Greg was quiet for a beat on his end of the sofa. "Or you could just use me." Greg was certain the response from Mycroft would be timid and include the phrase 'That's very kind of you, Gregory, but I couldn't impose'. No matter how often you told the man that he wasn't an imposition or a bother or any other word he never listened. Years of being brainwashed into thinking he wasn't a catch or important enough or worthy enough of basic, decent human rights had taken their toll. Mycroft was fierce in his professional life but his personal life was wracked with low self-esteem and very little confidence. "No pay required."

Stranger: Mycroft shifted, staying silent for several long moments before speaking again. “I dislike the idea of taking advantage of you, Gregory.” He said, “Are you certain you wouldn’t accept some form of payment? It’s a rather involved undertaking, after all. It’s likely you would need to cohabitate with me for at least some of the pregnancy. I know you value your privacy.”

You: "I fail to see how my offering to bond with you is you taking advantage of me." It was absurd to think that Greg would offer something so...heavy if he didn't want to assist. "God forbid we live together...it's not like I'd come barging in and demand you sleep in my bed with me or wait on me hand and foot. I like my space, yeah, but you've never invaded it...at least not to my knowledge...take Sherlock for instance...he breaks into my flat all the time, reads my emails....that's an invasion in privacy. Living with you to help ensure you and your pup are healthy, helping to set up the nursery, maybe getting to fuss over /you/ a bit is not that."

Stranger: “I try not to overstep.” He replied, “Sherlock is far less caring about other’s spaces.” Mycroft flushed, twisting his hands together in his lap. “I appreciate the offer.” He said after a short time, “And I’ll gladly take you up on it. It will be easier, with someone I trust. Someone I know isn’t trying to turn a difficult situation to their advantage.”

You: Greg held out his unharmed hand to the man. "Whatever you need...whenever you need it...well, as soon as I can behind over and start to lift things again. Then I'm you're guy.." He gave Mycroft's hand a squeeze. "We'll get through it. I'm pretty easy going for being so high maintenance..." he chuckled softly. Greg leaned his head back on the sofa as he looked over at Mycroft. "I'm glad you're here."

Stranger: Mycroft took the offered hand uncertainly, relaxing when Greg squeezed it. “No lifting until you are fully healed.” He admonished gently, shifting closer and patting Greg’s knee lightly. “I was pleased to be able to visit. To ensure for myself that you will be alright. I was quite worried, you know.” He relaxed a bit, though his free hand fiddled with the hen of his jumper. “You might regret offering yourself so freely, Gregory. You may find yourself underestimating how clingy I may become. I’ve never carried a pup more than a few weeks. Who knows what is to come?”

You: Greg chuckled softly as he stared at Mycroft. "You underestimate how much I enjoy being in a relationship with someone who likes to clingy. It's about so much more than sex, you know? It's about being...at ease, comfortable with your partner. It's about being able to come home after a long day of work and just stretching out on the sofa together. It's about being able to connect with another person equally. I won't regret offering myself up so freely, Mycroft. When I said that I cared for you I meant it. I do. A lot, yes?" Greg brushed his thumb over Mycroft's hand. "Whatever happens I'm right here. We'll get through this together."

Stranger: Mycroft nodded, glancing away and then back to Greg. “I will do my best to ensure you aren’t deprived of the connection you want.” He looked at the place where their hands met, wondering if he should bring up sex, now that Greg had mentioned it. It seemed unlikely that the Alpha wouldn’t expect at least /something/, but if he could avoid the potential embarrassment of the conversation, he was going to. “You’re very kind.” He remarked, “Being here for me. I appreciate it. And...I care for you, too. I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to do this for the pup. I do enjoy your company.”

You: "Don't take that to mean I demand it." He reiterated. " I want you to have what you need just as much if not more, yeah? You might absolutely hate quiet nights on the sofa. That's fine. You might hate cuddling, that's fine too. My offering and agreeing to bond with you is not my wanting you to enter into another contract that you have no say in. The only thing I ask is that you communicate with me. More than this..." he held up their still laced fingers then motioned to the dinner in front of them. "You won't be depriving me of anything because I'll be getting just as much our of this, yeah? I'll be getting your company....I'll be hopefully getting to participate a bit in your pregnancy and seeing the little one...maybe a few midnight feedings. It's not a prison sentence for me and I don't want it to be for you either."

Stranger: Mycroft nodded, biting his lip. “I understand.” He replied, “I cannot promise I will always be the most effective at communicating my needs, but I will do my best not to hide them from you. This is...it’s very different for me.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve always been rather a disappointment. Too stubborn and outspoken for my mother, a poor example of a ‘proper’ traditional omega. Even my attempts at behaving simply seemed to make Peter angrier.” He shifted. “I know you are not like either of them, that you don’t expect subservience from me, but if there is something you want of that I ought to be doing, I would appreciate it if you let me know instead of keeping quiet until you’re upset with me. This is meant of be a partnership of sorts, yes?”

Stranger: *meant to be

You: Greg nodded. "You've got that right...not letting things build up and having those open lines of communication make up a healthy partnership." Greg held Mycroft's hand, watching him for a bit longer. "It's getting late, you know, and I shouldn't keep you out too long. Anthea'll come over and finish the job. She's quite protective of you, you know? Not that I blame her any..." Greg didn't want Mycroft to leave. He didn't want to stop their little date or whatever this was but he knew it was best. They both needed rest and Greg needed to take his medication again."

Stranger: “She would not dare harm you.” Mycroft replied, “She’s still breaking into giggles over you telling Peter the pup was yours.” He smiled reluctantly, “We both need rest, I suspect. Who knew growing a pup would destroy my ability to stay up late?” He stood slowly, “Can I do anything to help you? I don’t want you to overtire and pass out while trying to collect what you need for bed. After all, I’m more healed than you are, and I wasn’t shot either.”

You: Greg blushed at that. "I said a lot of things to him that I probably shouldn't have...including that but I just...I saw red as soon as he started in on you and I couldn't control it...." Greg shook his head. "No, no. I'll be fine. I'll just go in to take my medication and then I'll hobble to my bed and wrap up in this lovely blanket of yours." With some effort Greg was able to pull himself off the sofa. "You've been through a lot too, Mycroft, don't discount your own experiences just because you're more healed than me. You've had years of abuse. It's not going away over night." Greg walked with Mycroft to the front door. "Be careful going home. Text me when you get back to your flat, yes? Or I'll be up all night worrying."

Stranger: “Ah, yes. What was it? You were going to take me for yourself?” He smiled a bit, “More apt than you perhaps knew at the time.” He walked close to Greg, watching the man. “I must warn you, if you’re going to explode every time someone calls me a whore, I fear for your knuckles.” He nodded, reaching out to squeeze Greg’s shoulder. “Of course I will. And you are not to overwork yourself. I’ll arrange for meals to be dropped off. You get all the rest you need while you are healing.”

You: "Not everyone that calls you a whore has been physically, mentally and verbally abusive to you, Mycroft. It's much different with Peter." And it always would be. Greg would happily take a hundred bullets and a thousand punches if it meant that Mycroft would be safe. "Promise." He opened the door for Mycroft. "Night, Mycroft." He waited at the door until Mycroft disappeared into his waiting car downstairs.

Stranger: “Good night, Gregory.” Mycroft spent the trip home thinking about the discussion they’d had and the decision that had been made. It would take some work, but he could make space for Greg in the flat, as well as himself and the pup. His stomach clenched as he glossed over the awareness that Greg would likely leave once the pup was born and they were settled. As would be his right; Mycroft had no right to the Alpha, no matter how fond he was of Greg. When he arrived home, he texted Greg, not wanting him to worry. /Home safe. Pleasant dreams. MH/

You: Greg waited for Mycroft's message to come through before he took his medication and headed off to bed, having cleaned up their dinner in the living room. Over the next few weeks, Greg did his best to rest and not overdo things but he did eventually start cleaning up his flat in anticipation of a move. He figured he'd keep it for when Mycroft didn't need him around as much but he hoped that he wouldn't need to use it all that often. Mycroft visited a few more times and each time Greg hated having to watch him leave again. It was usually dinner and a bit of watching television or talking or just sitting together while Mycroft worked on his mobile.

Stranger: It took nearly six more weeks to get approval for his divorce and bond scrubbing, and each day that passed had left Mycroft more anxious and uncertain. He enjoyed spending time with Gregory, growing closer to the man, but he was worried that he couldn’t provide enough to make Greg’s offer of bonding worth it to the Alpha. The day finally came, though, and he spent the morning in the courthouse, signing paperwork and being injected with the chemicals to scrub the bond. By afternoon he felt a bit lightheaded and overwhelmed emotionally, both expected side effects. He texted Greg around 4 from work. /Are we still on for tonight? MH/

You: Of course. I want to hear all about what happened today. I've got all the stuff to cook a celebratory dinner.-GL Greg had been a nervous wreck the entire day waiting for some sort of sign that things had gone well at the last hearing. He was worried about what the bond scrubbing might do to Mycroft and the pup. He worried about how Mycroft would feel during their evening. Would he change his mind now that he was finally free of an Alpha? Greg wouldn't be upset if that was the case. Mycroft deserved some freedom after having been tied to someone else for so long.

Stranger: /I’m afraid it isn’t the epic tale you are hoping for. MH/ Mycroft arrived at Greg’s door that evening, carrying a bottle of wine for the man, as well as a bag with their dessert in it. Now that Greg no longer had to take painkillers, he suspected the Alpha might enjoy the chance to have a drink. He rang the doorbell, smiling a bit to himself as he waited.

You: Greg answered the door nearly immediately having been pacing around his tiny flat waiting. He smiled wildly seeing Mycroft. "Come in. Come in..." he stepped aside and took the items Mycroft was carrying. "Dinner shouldn't be long." Greg had healed up nicely now able to move around better and able to do more things without getting completely winded. He was still instructed to take it easy which meant that he started desk duty the following week. "How are you feeling? Excited to have everything behind you?"

Stranger: Mycroft followed Greg to the kitchen, sitting at the table and folding his hands. “I feel a bit off-kilter. Between the pregnancy hormones and the after-effects of the shot, I’m not sure if I want to cry or shout.” He smiled a bit, “It is a relief to know I am no longer connected to Peter by law or biology.” He rubbed at the base of his neck. “The doctor who administered the shot suggested that if we plan to go through with a bond, we do it within 48 hours, to lessen the possible risk to the pup.” He shifted. “I apologize. I know we thought we might have more time to plan.”

You: Greg was working at the oven when Mycroft mentioned the deadline for starting their bond. He set down the spoon he was using to stir the pot and turned to the man. "Are you sure you still want to bond?" he asked. "Now that you've finally got your freedom it might not seem so lovely to immediately have to be bonded off to another Alpha....not that I've changed my mind just so we're clear. I still want to do whatever is needed to make sure you and the pup are healthy...I just..." Greg shook his head for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I've just been thinking about that a lot today."

Stranger: Mycroft shifted, resting a hand against the swell of his stomach. “I’m sure.” He said, “I...I cannot risk my pup’s life over something as trivial as the idea of freedom. I have not been free since I presented, Gregory. I’m not unhappy with the idea of being bonded to you. You’re very kind, very considerate. I trust you not to force me into an uncomfortable position.” He looked across at Greg. “I am willing to do anything to protect my child, and there are thousands of things more trying or unlovely than being bonded to you.”

You: Greg raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah, right. Good. That's good. We'll bond then. Whenever you're...ready." He wasn't exactly sure how the bond was going to work since Mycroft was already pregnant. It wasn't like they were going to share a heat together. It wasn't like they were going to be...overly intimate in any way. Greg imagined it would end up being more of a business transaction. He'd mark the Omega, they'd shake hands and Mycroft would leave. Christ, he hoped it wouldn't be like that.

Stranger: “It is not too late for you to change your mind, Gregory.” Mycroft said quietly, “I would not hold it against you. This is highly unusual, and I don’t want you to feel obligated because of our friendship or fondness for one another.” He looked at his hands, biting his lip. He desperately didn’t want Greg to change his mind, but he would feel wro mg if he didn’t offer the option.

You: Greg pushed away from the stove and padded over to where Mycroft was fretting at the kitchen table. "Hey..." He reached out and put two fingers under Mycroft's chin. "Myc, look at me..." he said quietly. "I'm not going to change my mind....I promise. I'm here for the long haul...I'm here until you don't need me anymore, yes? Whether that means that we scrub right after the pup's born or we wait until they leave for school or we...decide we like each other well enough to stay bonded...I'm not going anywhere."

Stranger: Mycroft blinked, looking back at Greg. “Very well.” He said, nodding a bit, “Thank you. I appreciate that, Gregory, more than I can say.” He shivered a bit under the intensity of Greg’s gaze. “Could we...after dinner, perhaps? I had my schedule cleared for tomorrow. I was not sure what might happen.”

You: Greg nodded. "I cleaned up my bedroom so that we could stretch out just in case we needed to. I read that sometimes those drugs they give you can make some Omegas nauseous or ill. And I thought since you still sometimes had a bit of an upset stomach with the hormones that being somewhere my scent is strongest would help with...everything. Or we could stay in the living room. Whereever you want..." he promised. Greg finished dinner and plated their food returning some time later to sit down across from Mycroft.

Stranger: “You’re very considerate, Gregory.” Mycroft smiled a bit, “That is extremely thoughtful. I’m sure your bedroom will do nicely. I cannot promise to be entirely calm or collected; it’s been 15 years since my first bond, and it wasn’t exactly a fairytale.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. This meal looks incredible, Gregory. Thank you for this.” He smiled at the man, lifting his water glass in a toast to the Alpha.

You: "Well, I wasn't sure what type of fairy tale you were looking for with me as your prince charming so I didn't stuff my room with candles and flowers or anything...next time though. I'll have my stuff together a bit more." Greg picked up his own water glass and toasted the end of Mycroft's trial. "I'm saving the wine for a special occasion," he promised. "I hate to be the only one drinking and anyway tonight's...special." Greg relaxed a bit as Mycroft looked more settled during dinner. It was a nerve wracking situation for anyone but for them it seemed to be a hundred times worse. Not knowing what to expect didn't help things either. Greg only wanted Mycroft and the pup to be healthy after the bond was formed.

Stranger: Mycroft snickered. “Flowers and candles are unnecessary. I’m a grown man; I much prefer you on your own merits, Gregory. And you have many.” He smiled as they ate and chatted idly, enjoying the quiet mealtime with Greg as he often did. “Are you looking forward to getting back to the office?” He asked, “I’m sure O could arrange for a bouquet to celebrate your new attachment, if you think your team might approve.”

You: Greg nodded. "Definitely looking forward to getting back to work and a routine, you know? Though the time off has been nice lately....I started to get a bit bored not getting yelled at by your brother every day or being able to run through the rain and muck around the city. These dinners were really the highlight of my time off. Always gave me something nice to look forward to..." he chuckled at the mention of a bouquet. "They wouldn't know what to think. Can you imagine everyone finding out that we'd actually bonded. They might start believing that the pup really is mine."

Stranger: “Best not then. I don’t want them thinking poorly of you.” He stirred his fork across his plate slowly, focusing on the path. “I’ve made it known among my staff that you did not father my pup, and that you never behaved inappropriately. Only those who were privy to what you said to Peter, of course. You’re an honorable man, and I won’t have them saying otherwise, even in jest.” He glanced up at Greg. “What you choose to tell your colleagues is up to you, of course.”

You: "I wasn't planning to tell anyone because I thought it might look poorly on you. Implications of an affair, of carrying another man's pup while you were still bonded, a quickie second bond to keep things...safe...It didn't seem like it could do anything but slander your name." When they'd finished dinner Greg cleared the table and put the leftovers away. He left some of the pots to soak but washed the plates and cups they'd used. "Do you want dessert?" he asked Mycroft.

Stranger: Mycroft shook his head. “Best not. I’m unsettled enough without adding sugar on top.” He smiled a bit, “Feel free though. I brought that fruit tart you liked. I thought you might like something special, since this is a rather momentous occasion. Second bonds and all that.”

You: "I'll eat the whole thing if we aren't careful. It's absolutely delicious...I blame you completely for turning me on to that bakery." he teased gently. "I'll have some after we...you know..." he dried his hands off and made his way over to where Mycroft set. "Do you want to go and lay down for a bit before we bond? Not sure how nervous you are about the whole thing but I'm...downright scared."

Stranger: Mycroft’s shoulders relaxed and he nodded gratefully. “That would be appreciated. I’m extremely nervous. Logically I know you will not do anything to harm me or force me, but my brain seems intent on considering the worst that could happen.” He stood, slipping his fingers into Greg’s hand and squeezing lightly. “Lead the way. It is your room, after all.”

You: "You've had years of nothing but worst case scenario..." Greg reminded him as their fingers were laced together. "It's normal." He led them out of the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. He turned on the bedside lamp and motioned for Mycroft to pick a side. "I usually fall asleep on the sofa and then end up in the middle of the bed so I don't really have a dedicated side or anything." Greg let go of Mycroft's hand so that he could take off his jumper, struggling to get it over the cast that he was stuck with. "Not taking off anything else just didn't want to overheat or anything."

Stranger: “You’ll enjoy the bed at the flat then.” Mycroft smiled, “It was my uncle’s and it is rather enormous. Plenty of space for you to sprawl out if you wish.” He removed his own jumper and necktie, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt to bare his neck. No need to fumble with clothing later and spoil the moment. He laid on his side, watching Greg with a soft smile. “I suppose I needn’t worry. You’ll have trouble grabbing me with one hand.” His tone was light, clearly meant to put Greg at ease.

You: "I can't tell you how ready I am to have this thing gone.." he waved the cast around. "Do you know how unbelievably difficult it is to shower properly with a trash bag over your arm? Doc said I've got at least another three weeks before we can look at having it removed and even then I'll probably have to wear some sort of brace or wrap for a while after that...." Greg shook his head when Mycroft mentioned being grabbed. "I'm not a really handsy person like that..." he promised, getting into bed next to Mycroft. "I do like the touching and kissing and stuff but....I mind my manners."

You: (brb)

Stranger: “I never really suspected otherwise.” Mycroft murmured, “You’re a gentleman, Gregory. I know that.” He shifted, reaching out and resting his hand against Greg’s upper arm. “What qualifies as stuff?” He asked, voice full of humor, “Kissing, touching...is stuff the part where you eat crackers in bed and I decide if that’s something I can live with?” He bit his lip, smiling. “Your poor arm. Sacrificed to break Peter’s nose. A noble cause.”

You: Greg smiled over at Mycroft, chuckling. "I may or may not eat a biscuit or two in bed some times, yes...there's a lot of 'stuff' I like to do in bed...like sleeping or answering emails....working on cases...and some other things when the mood strikes. I can keep the biscuits out of bed though. Wouldn't want that to be what ends our relationship. You're not worth risking just for some biscuits." He nodded. "Does it qualify as prince charming material?"

Stranger: “It wouldn’t be. You’re welcome to eat biscuits if you like. I’ve dealt with far worse, and I wouldn’t want you to waste away.” He smiled, fingers stroking against Greg’s arm lightly. “It definitely qualifies. I’ll have your crown ordered immediately.” He sighed, shuffling a bit closer to Greg. “We haven’t talked much about...intimacy.” He finally murmured, “I suppose we ought to cover our bases before bonding.”

You: "I get to bond Mycroft Holmes and I get a crown?" he said absolutely elated. "I've really got the best part of this deal. All you get is a soppy, gray haired DI. Sure you don't want out before it's too late?" he let his arm slip around Mycroft's waist as the man moved closer to him. "Oh. Right. Probably important. I know you're getting sick of me saying this but I'm not ever going to ask you for sex. I can only imagine how Peter treated the subject and I don't want to come close to that, Mycroft. Would I like if we were intimate sometime, sure, if things progressed that way but I also don't ever want you to think that you owe me sex for agreeing to bond with you."

Stranger: “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mycroft smiled, “Frankly I’m still astounded that you’ve agreed to this, that you offered it. You’re a kind, wonderful man.” Mycroft pressed his forehead lightly to Greg’s, thumb brushing the man’s jaw. “I appreciate that, Gregory. You could never be even close to Peter, you know. He felt entitled to my time, my body, everything simply by virtue of being bonded to me. You would never do that. I cannot promise that I will feel comfortable with sex in the near future, but I know you will have urges or desires. I’m not against being intimate; I just don’t think I will be able to handle sex well at the moment.”

You: "I've been alone a long time, Myc.." Greg said softly, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to Mycroft's wrist. "I can take care of my own urges and desires without coming to you pouting about it.The only thing you need to worry about, ever, is your pup...especially right now. We've got to make sure that little guy or girl keeps baking in there long enough so that when it's time we get to meet them and spoil them rotten..." Greg sighed. "Intimacy after you've been so mistreated isn't going to be easy, Mycroft, you're going to want to have it and then not be able to go through it. You're going to panic if we start to kiss or have sex and have to stop. There are going to be days that you won't want me around. I get that. Doesn't make you a bad Omega at all. It means you're working through your past."

Stranger: Mycroft sighed, closing his eyes. “Logically I know that.” He admitted, “I imagine it will be some time before I’m comfortable even kissing you or having you hold me for more than a few minutes. I don’t...I fear that you will feel rejected. You’re giving me this gift, this chance to protect my pup, and in return I feel like I’m giving you nothing. It’s not about owing you, but it is about feeling like I am inadequate.” He let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

You: Greg pulled back just enough so that he could clearly see Mycroft's face. He brought his hand up to brush Mycroft's cheek gently. "In all the years I've known you, Mycroft Holmes, you've never disappointed me once. You've been there anytime I needed anything be it for your brother or work or anything else. You also aren't inadequate. You're a brilliant, steadfast Omega who was dealt a terrible hand in life. You're giving me so much, do you understand that? You're giving me friendship...a bond...you're giving me the chance to experience what it's like to watch a partner carry a child. You put up with my stupid questions and you let me feel the baby...." Greg could feel the tears just beginning to sting the corners of his eyes. He blinked a few times willing them away. "All those feelings you have are valid, Mycroft, don't ever think they aren't....just know that you aren't alone in this."

Stranger: Mycroft closed his eyes, tucking his face against Greg’s shoulder to hide his tears. “Of course I let you feel that. If you could see the way your face looks when you feel then fluttering about...it’s astonishing. You’re so careful, so cautious about not making me feel cornered or unsafe.” He curled his fingers into Greg’s shirt. “I am so honored that you would share this with me, that you feel my child and I are worthy of your time and attention.” He sniffled, pulling back to give Greg a watery smile. “Apologies. I’m feeling a bit fragile; hormones and that. It’s a big night, after all.”

You: Greg returned his arm to wrap around Mycroft. "Poor dear, you're getting it from every angle...the pregnancy hormones, the chemicals to scrub your bond, anticipation of a new one...I'll make you a deal..." he rubbed the man's back. "You don't apologize for your tears and I won't apologize for mine, how's that sound?" He looked at Mycroft laying in his bed. /his bed/ and allowing Greg to hold him and protect him and barge right in without a moment's hesitation. Greg was so nervous about what was going to happen. There wasn't a fiber in his being that didn't want to bond with Mycroft but he was terrified for it. Somewhere deep down inside Greg worried that their bond would make Mycroft feel cornered. The poor man was being bounced around from bonds with very little say in the matter. "Last chance to change your mind..." he said as his arm stopped the circles he was rubbing on Mycroft back and brought it up to Mycroft's neck. Greg swallowed around the lump in his throat before he leaned in and sank his teeth over Mycroft's original bond mark.

Stranger: “Shan’t.” Mycroft murmured, “I’ve chosen you.” He hissed at the sharp prick of Greg’s teeth, though he relaxed at the flood of hormones released, recognizing the primal claim. He gripped Greg’s shirt tightly, a rush of fondness for the Alpha flooding him as readily as the hormones. “Thank you.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to Greg’s shoulder, the only place he could reach with the man’s teeth in his neck.

You: Greg heard the painful hiss that Mycroft made and felt the man's grip tighten on his shirt. He waited until his own rush of hormones nearly dissipated before he released the sensitive flesh of Mycroft's shoulder. Greg had to close his eyes as he pulled back and rested his head on his own pillow, dizzy from the rush of new hormones and scents and feelings. He was flushed, his skin tingling where Mycroft had kissed his shoulder. He didn't want to let the man go. His body fought against untangling itself from Mycroft. "Alright?" was all he could manage at the moment.

Stranger: “Mm.” Mycroft nodded, “It was rather intense, but I’m unharmed.” He touched the mark tentatively, wincing a bit at the tenderness. It wasn’t unexpected, but he’d been distracted from feeling the bite in his last bond. He shifted uncomfortably when Greg pulled away, feeling an unhappy knot in his stomach, a sense of wrongness at being separated from Greg. “Are you well?”

You: Greg nodded opening his eyes after a moment. "Just dizzy is all. You've got a lot of...everything...." he looked over at Mycroft who was frowning at him. "Will you stay for a bit?" he asked. "Here." In bed with him is what he meant. He half expected Mycroft to immediately jump up and leave the flat. "I can take the sofa if you want to be alone...might be best or I'll have you wrapped up in my arms again." Greg felt the tears stinging his eyes again, the lump returning, and the panic setting in. "I forgot how...emotional a new bond could be. I don't remember my first being like this...this is....better."

Stranger: “Of course I’ll stay.” Mycroft nodded, “I’m not honestly sure I can stand at the moment.” He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head and exclaiming “No!” He flushed, modulating his tone before speaking again. “I...don’t go, please. I’m already unsettled, being separated even this much.” He shuffled closer, pressing against Greg’s side. “Hold me, please.” His voice was quiet, pleading, “Just for a moment. I can’t bear it; I need you to touch me.”

You: Greg immediately wrapped his arms around Mycroft, holding the man close to his chest, and began running his fingers through Mycroft's hair. He pressed kisses to the top on Mycroft's head as they laid together. He shushed the man as Mycroft's own panic seemed to creep in. Mycroft felt absolutely perfect in his arms like he was made to be there. Greg knew without thinking on the matter very deeply that he was in love with Mycroft though he would be damned if he was going to say it out loud any time soon. "You're absolutely perfect..." he settled for. "Thank you for staying with me...for letting me...touch."

Stranger: Mycroft clung to Greg, letting the man’s presence and scent calm him. Some small part of his brain was alert, keeping watch for danger or the Alpha trying to hold him down, but most of his consciousness was simply wallowing in the safe contentment of being held, the sense of protection. “Thank you.” He murmured, “For holding me. Feels safe.”

You: Greg was thankful that Mycroft couldn't see his face. He didn't have many details about what Peter did to Mycroft during their bond and subsequent years together but he'd pieced enough of it together to know that Peter had probably forcefully bonded with Mycroft the moment their parents closed the arrangement. Thoughts of Peter holding Mycroft down during their encounters and Mycroft trying to get away made his blood boil. The fact that Mycroft thanked Greg for making him feel safe broken his heart. "You're always going to be safe with me." he promised the Omega. "Always."

Stranger: Mycroft smiled, hidden against Greg’s shirt as he gave a contented murmur. “Are you comfortable?” He asked after a time, “I know that we weren’t sure of what a bond like this might bring. S’pose you’re not feeling as much urge to get me with a pup, since there’s already one there.” His hand slipped up Greg’s back, petting the hair at the back of his neck.

You: "Quite comfortable, yeah...." he promised, shivering as Mycroft's hand found it's way up to the back of his neck. "No, the urge is still there....but it's..." Greg thought for a moment. What was he feeling exactly? "It's like being gone on vacation for a week and finally coming home to slip into your own bed. It's like putting on a pair of shoes that you've broken in well. It's like having a missing piece from yourself that you didn't know wasn't there returned. I want to pepper you with kisses and touch every inch of you while I memorize every freckle on your body but I also want to hold you right here with me until the world ends."

Stranger: “You’re a poet.” Mycroft chuckled, nosing against Greg’s jaw, “It feels...safe. Feels right, like this is where I ought to be more than any other place.” He listened to Greg, breath caught in his throat. “There’s a lot of extra inches with this pup growing.” He offered weakly, unwilling to admit how simultaneously arousing and terrifying the idea was, “You’d grow bored, dearest. And Sherlock would make fun of you for using brain space on memorizing freckles.”

You: "You're absolutely stunning with that round belly of yours, Mycroft, I could never grow bored with touching you or kissing you or anything else that involved you. Been imagining longer than I ever admitted to....getting to actually see it, well, let's just say you've got this prince charming tightly wrapped around your finger. You and your brother can tease me all you want about memorizing freckles or being a terrible poet or a hopeless romantic. It won't bother me...not when I've got this to look forward to." He brushed a hand over Mycroft's back as he held onto the man. "You're sure you feel alright? I didn't hurt you, did I? I've got some oionment somewhere that we could put on the bond mark if it's sore..I bet it'll leave a bigger scar than the first one."

Stranger: “You didn’t hurt me, Gregory.” Mycroft replied quietly, “Truly. You were very gentle, considering that you were biting me.” He touched the bite again, brushing one fingertip across it and shivering lightly. “I hope it does. It seems fitting that your mark be larger, considering it will be the only one you leave tonight.” He rubbed his face against the Alpha’s shirt, breathing in his scent with contentment. “I won’t tease, Gregory. I find it charming, and you’re not a terrible poet. It was a very sweet sentiment.”

You: "You keep scenting me like that and I'm not going to be able to hide the fact that we've bonded from anyone." Greg leaned down and pressed another kiss to the top of Mycroft's head. Not that he would hate telling everyone. At the moment Greg felt like shouting from the rooftops that Mycroft Holmes was officially his partner. "Sentimental and soppy, love, sentimental and soppy. You've been saddled with a hopeless romantic, gentle and charming and absolutely smitten with you."

Stranger: “My apologies.” Mycroft murmured, “I’m finding it hard to stop. It’s been a very long time since I’ve proper gotten to scent someone.” He flushed, butting his head lightly against Greg. “I could do far worse than gentle and sentimental, you know.” He yawned, the long day and rush of bonding leaving him worn out. “Would it be terribly scandalous if I slept here with you?” He asked, “I don’t want to leave you.”

You: "Never said I wanted you to stop. At the moment I want everyone to know that I belong to you, Myc..." Greg whispered. Greg was absolutely shocked when Mycroft asked if he could stay. It was probably the best part of anything else that had happened that day with him. "Of course you can stay here with me. Saves you from seeing a very weepy Alpha..." Greg would have asked again if Mycroft had gotten up to leave and while he absolutely would have let than man go he would have been absolutely wrecked to watch the door close behind him. "Rest, darling, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Stranger: “Belong to me...I like that.” Mycroft murmured, yawning, “Wouldn’t be right to leave you while we’re so fragile. Closeness is what’s best for a new bond.” He curled close against Greg, relaxing into the man’s embrace. “Thank you.” He said quietly, “So good to me.” He yawned and closed his eyes, soon drifting into sleep.

You: Every bit of it was true. Greg was absolutely Mycrofts now (more so than he had been before). Greg was already prepared to go through hell (and had) for Mycroft but now with a new bond pulsing through his veins, he was ready for apocalyptic conditions. It was absolutely terrifying to be so quickly and readily in love with someone especially someone you'd only really started getting to know. The bond pushed them together in a way that simply felt right and Greg was hardly going to question it. He tried his best to stay awake not wanting to lose the perfect little evening they were having but eventually he succumbed to sleep himself still tangled up with Mycroft.

Stranger: It was still dark outside in the wee hours before dawn when Mycroft woke with a start. His first instinct was to stiffen and pull away from the tangle of limbs around him, though he managed to calm himself enough to slip out slowly and avoid waking Greg. He slipped out of the bed and padded to the bathroom, feeling wrong-footed and unhappy as he moved further from Greg. Despite the lingering pull from his bond, he ignored it in favor of checking his new bond mark in the mirror and then going to the kitchen to fix a mug of herbal tea. He’d taken to keeping a container of the blend at Greg’s home, never knowing when the pup would unsettle his stomach and leave him needing the tea.

You: Greg shifted when Mycroft got out of bed but didn't quite wake up enough to register the world around him. It wasn't until he heard someone puttering around his kitchen sometime later that he woke up alerted to the fact that there could be an unwanted guest. When he found the bed empty of his Omega Greg immediately got up and went out to investigate. When he saw Mycroft (unharmed) alone in the kitchen he sunk against the door frame. Greg raked a hand through his hair. "This feeling of being pulled apart at the seams is going to do me in when you're gone." he gave a sleepy smile to the man sipping his tea. "Think it'll lessen the longer we're together?"

Part 2 below the cut.

Stranger: Mycroft smiled, gesturing to a second mug and a plate of toast. “There’s plenty if you’d like some.” He murmured, “I imagine it will lessen in a day or two. This bond is non traditional, so it makes sense that the emotions and feelings would be different as well.” He watched the man for a moment. “Come sit by me; maybe it will help make you feel less at ease. I’m sorry I didn’t wake you; you seemed very peaceful, and I wasn’t about to disturb your rest.”

You: Greg padded into the kitchen and sat down beside Mycroft. "Best sleep I've gotten in a while post pain killers." Greg picked up the mug of tea and took a sip. Perfect as usual. He was quiet for a few moments as he picked up a piece of toast and munched happily on it. "Well, we've survived for the moment. I guess that's something to celebrate, hm?" he looked over at Mycroft hoping the man really was feeling better. "What's next?" he asked.

Stranger: Mycroft nodded, sipping his tea. “We’ll need to discuss living arrangements. If you’re still content to live at the flat with me, we can make arrangements to move your things in. Apart from that, I suppose we will be spending the day together so neither of us does ourselves a mischief because of feeling unsettled.” He smiled at Greg. “The weather’s meant to be nice; we could take a walk?”

You: Greg nodded. "Sounds like a lovely day." He was incredibly excited to spend the entire day with Mycroft. Maybe this was the beginning of something absolutely wonderful, something both of them had needed for a very long time. "I don't mind moving into your flat. Are you sure there's going to be enough room especially after the baby comes? I know we talked about having separate rooms for the foreseeable future but we need to make sure all the baby's things will fit with me there too. I can keep my flat so that way I only really need to move my close and some personal things over. Might be easier that way. Got to have a contingency plan in place for when I get in the dog house." he teased gently.

Stranger: “There’s enough room.” Mycroft replied, “There is an office space that isn’t necessary. I’m turning that into the nursery, and then the two bedrooms will be for you and I. It’s cozy, but not cramped.” He glanced at Greg. “You’re welcome to retain your flat, Gregory. I understand that you may prefer to have your own space. I will arrange for the rent to be covered, so you needn’t worry about it.”

You: Greg sighed. "Don't think that means I'm not serious about this bond." he wanted to make sure that Mycroft didn't think he was gone as soon as the pup arrived. "We're going to need to carefully consider all the options once the baby arrives. We can't scrub the bond too soon postpartum or there could be complications for you. I'm more concerned about /you/ needing some personal space away from me, yes? And the last thing I want is for you to feel like you can't escape me. You're not my property, you're not inferior to me, you're my friend and my partner now, Myc, that makes us equal. You've been through hell with your previous Alpha...we just need to make sure you don't feel backed into that corner again."

Stranger: “I didn’t think that, Gregory.” Mycroft replied, “I simply know this is unusual, and even committed, you’re moving into a space that was originally mine rather than ours or your own. It is not surprising that you want to hold onto your flat.” He patted Greg’s knee. “I know you wouldn’t bond with me unless you were serious about helping.”

You: Greg smiled over at Mycroft, slipping his hand over the man's as Mycroft patted his knee. "Sometimes I feel like you need reminding that you're in control of the situation now...and that we've got a long while to go before we can even begin to think of scrubbing the bond...if we ever wanted to that is..." There was a part of Greg that was hopeful they wouldn't ever scrub the bond. There was also a part of Greg that wanted Mycroft to experience what it was like to date and choose a partner because you wanted to not because you had to. "And I'm not going to let you pay my rent. I'm a big boy. I can pay my own bills even though I bonded into a wealthy family."

Stranger: Mycroft wrinkled his nose, though he nodded. “Very well. If you change your mind though, somply let me know. I’m happy to cover the costs.” He leaned against the Alpha lightly, nibbling at a piece of toast. “It seems hard to believe it’s nearly halfway through the time until we meet the pup.” He remarked, “They should be able to tell me boy or girl at the next appointment.”

You: Greg turned and pressed a kiss to Mycroft's temple when the man leaned into him. "Halfway there?" he asked. "Well, we've got a lot to do then. Got to finish the nursery, make sure your bag is packed, set up a little cot next to your bed...." Greg had made a list. An actual list of everything they'd have to do to get ready for the pup. He'd spent the majority of his leave reading parenting blogs and articles about what to expect during pregnancy and what to look out for during high risk ones just so he could be prepared. "I can't believe you'll already be able to find out..that's fantastic....I don't know about you but I'm so excited to meet the little bugger...." He looked down at Mycroft's bump when he said it. He'd even started buy a few things for Mycroft and the pup as gifts for the nursery. A few outfits, some books and things like that though he was trying not to go overboard. He didn't want the man fussing at him.

Stranger: “You’re almost more excited for this than I am.” Mycroft teased, “I can already see you with the pup in a baby sling, carrying them around at work while you bark orders at your team.” He appreciated Greg’s apparent eagerness for the pup to join them. He’d had some worry that the man might resent Mycroft or the pup, especially since it was technically the child of the man who had shot him. “The nursery just needs to be painted and arranged. I have all the furniture. I managed to salvage my grandmother’s rocking chair, with Sherlock’s help.”

You: "It's far more likely that you'll see me sleeping on the sofa with the pup asleep on my chest after we've had a late night snack. We'll be the picture of perfection..." Greg was happy to hear that Mycroft had gotten pretty far along with the nursery set up. "That's wonderful to hear. I should be able to handle the painting and set up of the furniture....which reminds me...I got you some things..." He held up his hand to let Mycroft know that he'd be right back before he disappeared into his room. He returned with two wrapped boxes. One contained this little cot and the other had the rest of the items for Mycroft and the baby. "Wasn't sure you were going to have a baby shower...or really when we'd be able to celebrate properly..." he set the boxes on the table for Mycroft.

Stranger: “I will remind you that you still have a cast on your hand.” Mycroft replied, “You’re welcome to help with the painting, but I’m not an invalid. I can do some of it.” He looked at the boxes, then back to Greg. “You didn’t need to do this, Gregory.” He smiled, “Though it is very thoughtful. Thank you.” He unwrapped the cot first, remarking on the practicality and thanking Greg again. He unwrapped the second package, looking at the books and the infant clothing. “A very fashionable infant.” He said, holding up a tiny pair of overalls patterned with bees.

You: Greg made a face at the man. "/You/ shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting while you're pregnant. The last thing we need is for you to become invalid." Greg was practically bouncing in his seat while Mycroft unwrapped the gifts. "The baby and I discussed making this easier on you for the first few weeks. The little cot fits right next to your bed with places to put wipes and diapers and things. So you won't have to go very far to change them or feed them in the middle of the night...." He reached into the smaller box and pulled out a little baby blanket. "This is one of my favorites..." The plush blanket was covered in tiny umbrellas.

Stranger: “Ah yes. You and the baby had conversations.” He smiled, “Can you convince them not to kick my bladder with such glee.” He looked at the blanket, reaching out to touch it with a soft smile. “It’s perfect, Gregory. All of it is. Thank you so much for this.”

You: "I've tried to remind the baby that they need to be a bit nicer to you given that you are doing them a huge favor by giving them a place to live for nine months but they're really stubborn..." he chuckled. "Do you mind that we've had conversations? Everything I've read says that it's good for us to talk to them while they're in the womb. This way they know who we both are....helps with bonding after they're born. Not that I'm going to bond with your pup or anything....it'd just be nice if they weren't scared of me when they got here..."

Stranger: Mycroft shook his head, reaching out to pat Greg’s cheek. “I don’t mind at all. I’m happy for them to talk to you, Greg. I appreciate the time and effort you are putting into preparing for this pup, and I love that you want to try and let them get used to your presence before they’re born. It’s important that they know you and are alright with you. What if something were to happen to me and I couldn’t come home from the hospital with them? They need to be used to you, content with your presence.”

You: Greg leaned into Mycroft's touch. "We're going to make sure that nothing happens to you and that you both come home from the hospital together." Greg didn't want to think about what would happen if Mycroft couldn't come home right away or worse didn't come home at all. He knew it was a needed plan. He knew that Mycroft had probably already updated his will and things to include instructions on where the pup would go in the event of his untimely demise. "Who gets custody if something happens to you?" Greg asked. "I realize that I might not want to talk about it but...we should"

Stranger: “Custody goes to you, now that we’re bonded.” Mycroft replied, “I texted Anthea and she is having my will updated. If you are unable or unwilling, she is next in line.” He glanced at Gregory. “I would understand if you didn’t feel willing or comfortable taking them if I died, but I trust you implicitly. You’re the first choice of guardian if I am unable.”

You: Greg couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Just we're bonded doesn't mean you'd want them to come to me especially since I don't really have any claim to them..." he began. "But I'd be absolutely lying to you if I said I wasn't relieved to hear you say that you want them to stay with me. I am absolutely willing, Mycroft, biologically mine or not...I'm in with both feet."

Stranger: “You have more claim to them than their sire.” Mycroft frowned, “Sherlock is not a suitable guardian, for all I love him. I would not subject another child to my mother’s idea of parenting, and Peter’s parents are no longer living, not that they are better than my own.” He turned, looking at Greg intently. “I would choose you for them even if we hadn’t bonded. I trust you, Gregory, with myself and, more importantly, with my pup.”

You: "You're going to make me cry again." Greg choked out barely above a whisper. Greg fought hard against the urge to wrap Mycroft up in his arms and plant a kiss right on those beautiful lips of his. He knew the man would hate it. Knew it would be a selfish, inconsiderate move to make especially while Mycroft was so unbelievably vulnerable. Instead, he gave Mycroft a barely held together, dopey smile. He hoped against everything that Mycroft wouldn't grow to hate his sentimental nature. "How about that walk, hm?"

You: (hey, I have to grab dinner. Might be a hot minute before I'm back!)

Stranger: “Poor sentimental Alpha.” Mycroft said quietly, smiling, “How difficult it must be, knowing that at any moment I could do something like making you guardian or allowing you to hold me and sending you into tears.” He leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Greg’s jaw before standing and grabbing his overnight bag from where he’d left it by the kitchen door. “Let me change into something I haven’t slept in, and then we can go.” He grinned after Greg before disappearing down the hall.

Stranger: ((Ok, NP))

Stranger: ((I have to run an errand for my mom, yikes. I’ll be gone a hot minute. If we get disconnected, I hope to find you again))

Stranger: ((Sorry))

You: (Hey! I'm back.)

You: Greg took a deep breath as Mycroft left him alone in the kitchen. He needed some time to collect himself after Mycroft's teasing and the kiss and just...everything. When he was sure his legs could hold him again he got up and cleared their mugs and the empty plate from the table and went to his room to change as well. "You've got to pull yourself together." He told his reflection as he stood in the bathroom. "You're absolutely impossible." He finished getting ready and returned to the front of his flat to slip on his shoes for their walk around the neighborhood.

Stranger: ((Back! Sorry))

You: (Hi!)

Stranger: Mycroft was waiting by the door, carrying his umbrella but dressed casually in trousers and a jumper in a forest green tone. He smiled at Greg, offering his hand to the man once he had his shoes on. “Shall we?” He asked, “I know it isn’t meant to rain, but better safe than sorry, yes?”

You: "I'd be concerned if you didn't bring that umbrella of yours...don't think I've ever seen you outside without it." He took Mycroft's hand as they left the flat, locking the door behind him. It was such a happy, domestic act just walking around the neighborhood hand in hand. That part had shocked Greg. He hadn't expected Mycroft to want to hold hands though it made sense. They were both still quite needy from the new bond.

Stranger: “Yes, well...I find it to be quite useful in a variety of occasions.” He walked quietly for a time, enjoying the warm weather and having Gregory close by his side. It felt safe, felt correct in a way that contact with Peter never quite had, and Mycroft was reveling in the happy sensation. He knew it was partially influenced by the new bond, biology urging him to stay close to the safety of his Alpha, but there was also the genuine warm affection he held for Greg from their time together.

You: "You never cease to amaze me." Greg squeezed Mycroft's hand as they rounded the corner. "So we've figured out our living arrangements, talked about the nursery...seems like we've had a pretty productive morning, I'd say. I'll stay packing up my things tonight to get ready..."

Stranger: Mycroft smiled. “Flatterer.” He said lightly, “We have been very productive. Finished most of our necessary tasks. You’ll have enough time for a nap this afternoon, should you desire.” He looked at the other man for a moment. “I should warn you, I will have to visit my mother before long. And she likely will learn that we’ve bonded. I will try to keep her away from you, though.”

You: Greg nodded. "Do you think that she'll be disappointed in what's happened? In your choice for a new Alpha since I'm not one who wants to rule with an iron fist so to speak?" Greg had considered that Mycroft would need to visit his family and tell them of what had happened. "Do they understand how horrible Peter was to you?" he asked. "You know I don't mind coming with you...you need someone in your corner."

Stranger: “She will likely accuse me of being deliberately difficult to drive Peter away. She may imply that I’ve no sense of integrity for rebonding so quickly. She will undoubtedly disparage the fact that I’ve chosen a policeman.” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have to be exposed to her. I have never been, and will never be, a good enough Omega for her standards.” He looked away, falling silent as he tried to marshal his words into something that wouldn’t anger Greg. “Her thoughts were that I need discipline, and if Peter left a mark or an injury after, it was because I did something to drive him to it.”

You: "Wouldn't be the first time someone thought I wasn't worth anything," he said. " I don't want you going alone. Whether you take me with you or you invite your parents over to our flat, doesn't matter. I just don't think that your mother needs to continue such speak so harshly to you and she won't listen to reason at all....but I could...it'd be nice to be able to praise you a bit."

Stranger: Mycroft bit his lip, shaking his head. “I don’t want her at our flat.” He admitted, “I don’t want her to snoop through our things and criticize the wall colors.” He sighed, squeezing Greg’s hand. “If you come, you need to promise me you will keep your temper. Mummy is a master at getting under people’s skin, and this isn’t like Peter.”

You: Greg sighed. "I wouldn't punch your mother, Mycroft, but I would definitely have words with her. Starting with the fact that her way of thinking is archaic and that Omegas don't need discipline. She may not be physically abusing you but speaking down to you...constantly criticizing you...it's just as bad, Mycroft. Someone's got to put her in her place, wouldn't you say?"

Stranger: Mycroft shrugged. “I suppose I’ve grown accustomed to her ways. I was an unexpected child, and then presented omega on top of that. She was disappointed.” He leaned against Greg as they waited at a street crossing, “To be honest, my worry has more to do with her saying something rude to you. If she is unkind to you, I may not be able to hold my tongue.”

You: "Don't worry about me...I've got a thick skin, Myc. I doubt very much that your mother could say anything to me or about me that I haven't heard before." Greg couldn't help but smirk at the idea of Mycroft not holding his tongue. "Maybe that's what she really needs...you standing up to her and letting your thoughts and feelings on the matter ring out. Your mother sounds like a bully, Mycroft, just like Peter was."

Stranger: “I suppose she is, in some ways.” Mycroft replied, “I know you’ve a thick skin, Gregory, but that doesn’t mean I will simply let her try to tear down my chosen bond mate.” He shifted, biting his lip. “She may refer to the pup as a bastard, because I am no longer bonded to Peter. Try not to snarl at her?”

You: "I make absolutely no promises on that. Any person who would speak about their grandchild like that needs a bit of a snarl." Greg turned and pressed a kiss to Mycroft's temple. "I'm sure that your mother will do a fair bit of tearing us both down once she's told what's happened between you and Peter and told about the pup. We'll have to both try and be on relatively good behavior."

Stranger: “Oh, she knows about the pup.” Mycroft said, “That is the reason I have to visit.” He smiled a bit. “You’re taking this all very well. I appreciate that. I will let you know when she tells me the date.”

You: "What is there to take poorly?" he asked the man. "Your mother hates the fact that you had a bond scrubbed because she thinks that Omegas are inferior to Alphas. Now you've got an Alpha who isn't such a...traditional Alpha. Seems quite cut and dry really." Greg looked over to Mycroft as they walked. "I look forward to it..."

Stranger: “This mag be shocking, but most people don’t like the knowledge that their new partner’s mother will likely insult them the first time she meets them.” He leaned up, pressing a kiss to Greg’s jaw. “Should we start back soon? I think we’re losing the sun.” He featured up to the clustering clouds.

You: Greg couldn't help but chuckle as they turned back towards his flat. "Couldn't be any worse than being insulted by your new partner's brother the first time they met. Something about being a pathetic excuse for a DI who wouldn't know his right hand from his left hand if they were both the same. I think I can handle your mother....I've had some practice with in laws, you know?"

Stranger: Mycroft groaned. “Oh Sherlock...he’s always been combative and inappropriate.” He smiled at Greg gratefully. “You’re being very kind, and I appreciate it.” He smiled. “It should be after we find out the sex, so perhaps there will be a name she can refer to the pup by instead.”

You: "There's something fun we can do with our time...choosing baby names." He said. "Well, you can choose the name...I can just lay with my head in your lap talking to the baby while you look through pages and pages of unique, old world names.... then we can make sure to remind your mother that it's a living being with feelings and needs and opinions all their own is growing in there."

Stranger: Mycroft smiled at the image Greg brought into his mind; listening to the Alpha talking to the pup as they sat together, feeling the warm weight on his lap...He blinked, eyes a bit misty from the wash of emotion. “I would appreciate your input on names.” He remarked, “I was actually thinking of choosing something that isn’t as...unique as Sherlock’s name or my own. This little one deserves something a little easier, since so much of their life is in upheaval before they even arrive.”

You: "Don't worry. Live will settle down in time for their arrival. Once they get here they won't have any idea that things were ever anything but this..." he motioned between them as they walked. "We don't have to tell the baby about Peter or about what happened before. Think the only other thing we'll have to figure out is what they're going to call me if I'm still around in this capacity. Should it be Uncle Greg or Gregory or 'the silly old man'....possibilities are endless really.

Stranger: Mycroft nodded. “I’ve no plan to tell them about Peter; when they’re grown, perhaps, if they ask about their sire.” He looked at Greg, shaking his head. “You’re only a few years older than I am, Gregory...you’re hardly ‘old’. I suppose what they call you will depend on whether we are still bonded when they begin talking. We have time to think about it, to decide on something you’re comfortable with.” He kept to himself the fact that if the pup chose to call Greg something like Papa, Mycroft wouldn’t protest at all. “I was thinking of...testing our bond, this afternoon. To see if the sensation of being pulled apart has lessened. I don’t wish to cause you distress, but I’ll need to know if I need to arrange for another day of leave.”

You: "True but I'm going to tell you now that if they start calling me Papa or Dad you'll never be able to get rid of me." Greg nodded when Mycroft mentioned testing the bond that afternoon. "Don't worry about me," he said. "We both'll have to go back to work so we might as well get used to whatever pain we're going to experience due to separation. We can still keep up our meetings, can't we? That way we all get the best of both worlds."

Stranger: “Oh no. However will I cope with an affectionate Alpha who respects my boundaries and knows how to cook?” He snickered, nodding. “We can keep up our meetings if you like. You’ll see me every evening at the flat, of course, but the meetings are normal for us, and it will be nice to get extra time with you.”

You: "I meant before I move in, Mycroft, before I get all moved in we won't see each other every day, right?" he questioned. "Unless you just miss me so much that you can't stand to be without me...." It was far more likely that Greg would be the first to cave but he kept that bit of enlightened observation to himself. "When I move in it'll be a lot of time we'll have together. Mornings before work...time after work...weekends and holidays..."

Stranger: “Oh...of course.” He nodded, “I suppose I wasn’t thinking of before. I can’t promise I won’t come over to spend some time with you. Perhaps not every day, but...the feeling of contentment is rather intoxicating.”

You: "It's part of my allure," Greg added. "You're welcome in my flat anytime you want to come over. It shouldn't take me long at all to finish up packing my clothes and things. I started the other day when we first started talking about officially moving in together." The got back to Greg's flat and the Alpha let them inside. "Are you really feeling alright? No negative side effects?"

Stranger: “I feel alright, Gregory.” Mycroft assured him, “I promise to let you know if I feel any adverse effects. At the moment, I honestly feel rather pleasant; content and safe.” He looked at Greg. “I know it may not last, but I plan to enjoy it while it does.” ((Do you want to skip ahead some? Few weeks maybe?))

You: (Yeah, that'd be great!)

Stranger: ((BRB, the dog is screaming at someone))

You: Greg nodded. "Best not to assume it'll change...there's really no reason to think you'll go back to feeling miserable." Greg fixed them lunch that afternoon before Mycroft left for a few hours to test the bond. Greg decided it was best not to tell the man just how much he missed him. Nearly a month later, Greg had moved in all of his clothes to Mycroft's flat and had started to work on painting the nursery during the weekends. He and Mycroft moved the furniture, fussing between them on where things should go like a properly bonded couple. They spent their days at work, their evenings having dinner together and lounging around on the sofa looking for baby names when they weren't both still finishing up that day's work. It was absolutely perfect for Greg. The sort of home life he'd always wanted with a partner but never got to experience.

Stranger: ((Back))

Stranger: Mycroft had never felt more content in sharing a home, even as a child. Greg was considerate and helpful, willing to work together with Mycroft to shape their home as they wanted it. They’d discussed hundreds of names for the pup but come no closer to finding one that seemed perfect, leading Mycroft to simply refer to the growing pup as ‘little boy’ after a doctor’s checkup that had left him in grateful tears. One Sunday morning he poked his head into Greg’s open door, face pale and drawn. “We’re expected at Mummy’s by noon. Are you ready to go, Gregory?”

You: Greg was tugging on a jumper when Mycroft interrupted him. "Yeah, just have to put on my shoes. What do you think? Do I look proper enough to hold your mother's tongue for at least a few minutes?" he turned so that Mycroft could get a good look at him. Greg had showered, shaved and picked out his nicest outfit for their lunch with Mycrot's parents. "You know we don't have to do this, Mycroft, you aren't under her control anymore...I'm not in her pocket, remember?" he said moving to stand in front of Mycroft. He reached up and brushed his hands over Mycrofts shoulders and down his arms. "Either way I'll be right there beside you."

Stranger: Mycroft was wearing a suit, carefully tailored to fit with the swell of his stomach. He looked Greg over, nodding. “You look lovely. She’s unlikely to find fault with your clothing.” He leaned up, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Greg’s mouth. “If we do not go to her, she will come here. And I couldn’t bear that.” He sighed, shifting. “I appreciate your support more than I can say, dear.” He straightened, pressing a hand to his stomach as the pup kicked. “The car will be here soon.”

You: "It's not the clothing I was talking about. People's first impressions of you is like ninety percent visual, isn't it? If I look put together and posh we might have a better chance of not having an argument within the first ten minutes." Greg leaned down when Mycroft stopped for a moment. "Little one...you've got to take a break. We're going to visit your grandparents and your mum is already under enough stress..." Greg brushed a quick hand over Mycroft's bump. "Into battle as Sherlock would say, mm?" They moved out of his room so that he could put his shoes on. He made sure to grab his things as the driver knocked on the door of their flat.

Stranger: Mycroft chuckled. “He’s being stubborn today; I think he senses I am worried and is responding to it.” He followed Greg, speaking quietly to the driver to give him the address as they walked down to the car. The ride was tense, Mycroft sticking close to Greg’s side as though unable to bear sitting alone. When they pulled to a stop in front of the house he was the first one out, picking up the bottle of wine he’d brought for his parents in an attempt to appease them. “Into battle.” He murmured to Greg, “Will you ring the bell? I ought to stand behind; start off on the right foot.”

You: "You'll stand beside me, Mycroft. Partners, remember?" It wasn't an order by any means, it was simply a...request. Greg wanted Mycroft beside him in everything else...it just made sense that that would carrying over into this. Greg rang the bell of Mycroft's parent's house and immediately laced his fingers with Mycroft's, giving it a squeeze. "Together." he glanced quickly at Mycroft giving the man a small smile before the door opened. "Good afternoon Mrs. Holmes. Mr. Holmes." Greg had to remind himself to be polite and mind his manners. Mycroft had been trying to teach him over the last few weeks to be a little less brash in his modern mind set but Greg proved to be nearly as stubborn as his partner.

Stranger: Mycroft’s fingers trembled a bit in Greg’s grasp, but he didn’t let go, letting the touch soothe him as he glanced over his parents. “Mummy, Father.” He said quietly, nodding. Mummy was in front, of course, looking the two of them over with critical eyes while his father hung back a step, smiling at his son and Greg. Father was a perfect example of a traditional Omega, of course; he never needed ‘reminding’. Mycroft sighed, biting the inside of his lip. He passed the wine bottle to Father as they were ushered inside, turning automatically to take Greg’s cost and hang it with his own. He turned back, only to find Mummy eyeing Greg once more. “So...you are the Alpha Mikey has decided to throw away family tradition and decency for? He always has been a troublesome child, but this really is beyond the pale.”

You: Greg didn't protest the way Mycroft took his coat or remained just behind him when Mrs. Holmes started in on him. Greg knew instantly that Mycroft got his fire from that woman. "If by that you mean the Alpha your son made a conscious decision to take for love, comfort, and safety from the manipulative, abusive, psychotic Alpha you originally bonded him to, yes. Greg Lestrade...." The Alpha stuck out his hand to the woman. "It's very nice to meet you." Greg could nearly see the smoke coming out of the woman's ears. "Mr. Holmes..." Greg moved around the woman as if to dismiss her negative portrayal of their relationship and extended his hand to the elder Holmes. "Mycroft's told me so much about you....it's really a pleasure."

Stranger: Mycroft struggled for a moment, but managed to keep his glee at Greg’s casual disregard hidden. He watched his father shake Greg’s hand and greet the Alpha, so caught up in seeing his partner meet the man who carried him that he forgot to keep an eye on Mummy. He stiffened when she gripped his shoulder tightly, a soft yip of surprise escaping him. “I shouldn’t need to tell you that I am disappointed you’ve taken up with a mannerless lout.” She snapped, “For your own sake, I hope that pup is Peter’s and not proof of whatever affair you and your...partner were conducting.” Mycroft flushed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t sp..speak of Gregory like that, Mummy. He’s been very kind. He was willing to bond with me so that you’d grandchild wouldn’t be harmed by the bond scrubbing.”

You: Greg was chatting with Mr. Holmes about his line of work when he heard the yelp from Mycroft. Mr. Holmes quietly asked Greg not to get involved as it was simply the way their family worked. Frowning at the man Greg responded quietly in return. "It's not the way my family works." Greg turned around again and immediately put himself between Mrs. Holmes and Mycroft. "I shouldn't need to tell you how disappointed I am to learn that my partner's own mother would sell him off to the highest bidder like some sort of farm animal." he snapped back. "Peter was well on his way to putting Mycroft into an early grave with the way he was hurting him. Broken bones, bruises....If it weren't for Alphas like me, Mrs. Holmes, Omegas like Mycroft would never learn what compassion or kindness is. The pup in his belly may biologically be Peter's but don't you /ever/ mistake that man for his father. /I/ am that pup's father whether you like it or not and I will /not/ allow you to talk to Mycroft so rudely, are we clear?"

Stranger: Mycroft clung to the back of Greg’s jumper with one hand, bracing himself to haul the Alpha back if he needed to. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to make the man come; it was never going to end well with the pair of Alphas butting heads. “Miley has always been stubborn and unwilling to learn. If he earned a few bruises through his smart mouth and inability to obey, it is simply his own fault. I never had to discipline his father, and we’ve been married nearly 48 years. It wouldn’t hurt Mikey to toughen up and learn to accept his place in life.” She sneered at Greg, eyes running over him. “You’re a soft excuse for an Alpha, and I will /not/ be lectured in my own house about how I speak to my ungrateful child.”

Stranger: *Mikey

You: "There's nothing at all to learn." Greg corrected the woman. "Mycroft's place is at the side of his Alpha, not three steps behind in quiet subservience. He's stubborn and outspoken and absolutely perfect the way he is. His smart mouth and his 'inability to obey' it's what's kept him alive when Peter was repeatedly abusing him. It wasn't just a few bruises, don't you understand? It was broken bones and punctured lungs and falls down the stairs. It was concussions and beatings that left scars. Your son is one of the bravest, wisest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. He's given me so much, taught me so much in the short time we've been bonded and I would rather be a soft Alpha than to rule with an iron fist any time someone put a toe out of line. You may demand blind loyalty and silent subservience from your Omega but I don't. Mycroft is my equal and always will be whether you approve or not doesn't matter but you will not speak ill of my partner no matter your feelings on our bond."

Stranger: Mycroft winced as Greg spoke, revealing things he’d kept hidden from his parents for years. He knew Greg had seen him once or twice lacking a shirt, when he woke crying out from a nightmare, but he hadn’t realized the Alpha had seen the scars. “Gregory, please...calm down.” He tugged lightly at the man’s jumper, “We don’t want Father’s meal to get cold. I’m sure he worked hard on it.” He didn’t dare look at his mother, who he was sure would be furious. She was used to being in charge in her home, and Peter had always been content to play the part of obedient Alpha son-in-law. Greg of course would not, nor did Mycroft truly expect him to. It wasn’t in the man’s nature to let insults about Mycroft slide off.

You: Mycroft pulled Greg out of his heated state enough that Alpha turned to look at him. "Love, it's alright, I promise." he reached up and gently brushed his thumb over Mycroft's cheek before pressing a kiss there. He turned back to face Mycroft's parents. "Apologies, Mr. Holmes. Mycroft's been raving about your cooking...it puts mine to shame, I'm sure. Can I help you with anything?" he asked the man knowing he'd say no. Greg had a feeling that Mr. Holmes was going to remain quiet throughout the meal, serving the Alphas before serving his son and then himself. He'd probably also be responsible for all of the washing up which Greg was absolutely /not/ going to stand for. "Shall we, Mrs. Holmes?"

Stranger: Mycroft heard his mother huff and storm off towards the dining room. He looked at Greg, leaning into the man and pressing his nose to the Alpha’s neck briefly to scent him. “Thank you.” He murmured, “That was very kind of you. I didn’t realize that you knew; about the scars, I mean.” He took Greg’s hand, tugging for him to follow. “Come, we can help Father carry the dishes out.”

You: Greg let out a shuddering breath when the woman left. He let Mycroft press against him and scent him, nodding. "She deserves to know that this started with her outdated rules," he said quietly before Mycroft tugged him off to the kitchen to help. He was glad to be of some use more than just starting arguments with stubborn Alphas. Greg helped Mr. Holmes with the dishes making sure to praise him loudly during lunch at how delicious everything tasted. Greg made sure to ask for more than one recipe, promising to keep the secret ingredients secret, hoping to let Mr. Holmes know how appreciated all his hard work was.

Stranger: Mycroft sat by his father, chatting quietly with the man whenever he wasn’t being chatted to by Greg. He watched as his mother fired question after question ag Greg, asking about his family, career, interactions with Mycroft, his first bond. She was clearly hoping the other Alpha would be tripped up, and Mycroft was quietly proud that Greg had no trouble keeping up with her.

You: Greg should have known that their lunch with his new in-laws would be anything less than an interrogation. He felt as if he was on trial for committing murder more than simply there for the Holmes' to get to know. "My parents passed a way a number of years ago and I certain miss them both. It's just my sister and I, she's three years younger." Greg went into more detail about his family knowing the woman wanted to know what tier of society Greg was raised in. "I've got twenty years in. Went into the force straight after University and been working my way up...that's how I met Mycroft actually...and Sherlock. We all work together at some point during cases...quite the family affair." he chuckled, reaching over to squeeze Mycroft's hand. "My Omega cheated on me repeatedly over the course of our eight year marriage. I respected her enough to let her go instead of keeping her locked up in a bond she didn't want." he said when asked about his previous partner. "Is there something in particular you're searching for, Mrs. Holmes?"

Stranger: “I simply wish to know why you, someone who knows the pain of an unfaithful partner, would put yourself in a position to be seen as an adulterous Alpha. Clearly you have no respect for your own reputation or Mikey’s. Not to mention the fast approaching bastard pup.” Mycroft dropped his fork, appalled at her words. “Mummy, that is enough!” He looked as shocked at his own words as his parents seemed, “Gregory has been nothing but kind and careful. Almost no one knows we are bonded, because he was concerned it might reflect badly on me due to leaving my bond with Peter. He suffered a gunshot because of his defense of me, and he is a far better man than Peter could even dream of being, not that he would.” He stood, setting his napkin on the table and pressing a kiss to his father’s forehead. “I’ll be in touch.” He murmured to the older Alpha before turning to Greg. “I believe we should go, Gregory.”

You: "People talk regardless of whether or not it's true. Mycroft never stepped out of the bounds of his contracted bond with Peter and I never stepped in them. My reputation can take it, I assure you." Greg's face flushed when the woman made a comment about the pup. He opened his mouth to respond but Mycroft beat him to it. Instead, Greg allowed Mycroft to stand up for himself ready to jump in if the Omega needed support which of course he didn't. He leaned over to Mr. Holmes as whispered something while Mycroft went off on his mother. 'You taught him well, sir', he told the man with a smirk. Greg nodded and turned to Mr. Holmes first. "Thank you so much for lunch, Mr. Holmes. It was lovely to meet you. I hope to see you again soon." Greg got up and pushed his chair in. "Mrs. Holmes," he said as he let Mycroft lead him out of the room. When they got to the front door Greg helped Mycroft into his coat before plucking his own off the hook. "Are you alright, Myc?"

Stranger: Mycroft was pale and shaking, jaw clenched as he tugged his coat on. His eyes softened for a moment as he looked at Greg and he shook his head. “That was horrendous.” He murmured, “I just...I need to get out of here.” When they were in the car he retreated to one corner of the seat, resting his cheek against the glass and texting the driver the instruction to take them home. He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” He finally spoke, “This was a mistake.”

You: Greg knew he'd messed up as soon as they were in the car. Mycroft stayed as far away from him as possible. Greg didn't say anything until Mycroft spoke some time into their journey home. "Should have listened to you about not joining..." he said. "And you're not the one who should be apologizing. It's my fault things got so heated...I couldn't...play the part she wanted...couldn't just let her talk to you like that. I'm sorry I lost my temper..." Greg looked over at Mycroft. "I'm proud of you though, Myc, for standing up to her. The look on her face when you met her head on was...priceless."

You: ** You don't think she'll be upset with your father, will she? She's not one to...punish him, is she?"

Stranger: Mycroft looked up, wide-eyed. “Gregory...no. Don’t apologize. I understand why you wanted to come, and...you were magnificent. I’ve never seen /anyone/ challenge her like that. I couldn’t believe how well you did. And...given the circumstances, you stayed fairly calm.” He reached out, touching Greg’s hand. “She won’t be upset with father. And she won’t hurt him. For all her talk, she’s rather softhearted when it comes to father. She rather dotes on him.”

You: Greg laced their fingers together. "So it's just you that she takes her frustrations out on, then...and all because you're just like her. You know that's what that is, right? You're both passionate, strong-willed, opinionated people. You both like to be right all the time...She's a good woman if a little misguided in the way modern households should run. I'm glad to hear that she's nice to your father. He's such a wonderful man." He hesitated a beat, afraid to ask for the reassurance he desperately sought. "Promise I didn't upset you by the way I acted?"

Stranger: “I’m too much like her.” Mycroft agreed, “And then when I presented...it was too much for her. She was so disappointed that I wasn’t an Alpha.” He sighed, shuffling closer and turning to drape his legs across Greg’s lap, not quite on his lap but close enough to wrap his arms around the Alpha’s neck and press a kiss to his cheek. “You did not upset me, Gregory. No one has defended me like that...ever. You were very protective; it was very pleasant.”

You: "Being an Alpha shouldn't have been that important. Having these preconceived notions on what makes 'proper' Alphas and Omegas is all...bs." he began. He protested when Mycroft moved over. "You don't have to do this to make me feel better.." he said quietly. "the closeness and the hugging and the kissing, I mean. If you need your space, Mycroft, take it. Don't put me before your own needs..." Greg felt like an absolute idiot. "I can't stop it, you know...I've tried to...keep it in check. The protectiveness...the defensiveness...the worry and the fuss...but the bond.." he shook his head. "I promise it's not my being possessive. You are a procession that's there for my pleasure or my enjoyment. It just...bubbles up sometimes and I don't know how to handle it is all."

[onthepageoftears]

Kill Your Darlings — Ch. 1 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

A/N: So this is the start to my first ever series (yeah im not nervous posting this at all). I’ll be posting one chapter each Friday! This is more of a prologue, but definitely worth the read for the background! Overall, I have to warn you, this story is a very slow burn. I haven’t finished writing it yet, but I know some ~things~ take a while to happen, so stick around!

Anyway, your comments and feedback are more than appreciated, so don’t be afraid to leave me some messages :)

Also, if you’re @ on the taglist is italicized, it means it wouldn’t let me tag you, so you might have to change your settings :)

Summary: Y/N, a skilled assassin, gets their newly assigned target.

Warnings: language, mentions of death/killing/murder, mentions of abuse and r*pe, alcohol consumption

Words: 1,996

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Taverns were one of your least favorite places to meet. The stench of the unfortunate man’s breath wafted through the air, on top of the lingering odor of cheap alcohol. Men staggered around with their mouths wide open, yelling obscenities — women pulled down their dresses just enough to gain attention, glaring at anyone who passed. Everyone was way too loud, as if the sound of their slurred words were more valued over anyone else’s.

Your hood hung low over your head, just high enough to leave space for you to see. Your eyes immediately scanned the tavern — it was smaller than the usual ones you met at, but just as packed. The stuffiness of the room practically smacked you in the face as soon as you walked in, almost making you scrunch your nose. The smell was way worse than you remembered.

You kept your face stiff as your eyes stopped at a table near the back. Without a second thought, you made your way past the piles of people and towards the familiar head of hair you would recognize in a mass of a hundred people.

“I see you still have an impeccable taste for meeting places.” Your voice caused him to look up just as you sat across from him, removing the hood that covered most of your face.

“You know I do.” Rauf smiled proudly despite your obvious sarcasm. He gestured to the full cup of ale that was already in front of you. “A drink?”

You shook your head, “Not tonight.”

“Come on, Y/N. It’s just like old times.” Rauf was right. The length of the walls, wood of the tables, even the stench of the ale in your cup. It reminded you of the many nights you and Rauf would retreat to the taverns after training. A hard day’s work requires a hard day’s ale. It was what he said when he treated you to your first, and definitely not last, drink. You were pretty sure he just wanted an excuse to get drunk — which, you wouldn’t blame him for. Your line of work was never easy, not even for a veteran like him.

You picked up the drink with a sigh. “What’s the occasion?”

“Can’t I just want to have a drink with my favorite niece?”

“Only niece. And not by blood.” You reminded him every time, but it didn’t stop him from saying it.

Rauf was a family friend, always had been. You called him uncle, even when you were old enough to understand he had no relation to your family’s bloodline. Growing up, he was a common visitor at your parents’ home, frequently coming for a chat over some dinner. He would ruffle your hair on his way out, send you a wink every time. You always loved his visits, because it was the only time your parents stopped fighting; in those times, you felt like you had a normal, happy, family. Now, Rauf was the only one of your family that you had left.

You shook the memory from your mind and put the cup down. “You have a new target?”

Rauf was busy watching a woman drunkenly dance to the poor excuse of music, but he responded nonetheless. “When do I not?” He turned back to his own cup and chugged it down. After he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at you. “People are shitty, Y/N, always have been.”

“My point exactly.” You tapped the table beneath you, trying to keep your patience. Sometimes, it was hard for you to imagine Rauf running an assassin’s guild. He was responsible, sure, but in front of you, he acted like any other man in the tavern. In this case, that meant being almost unable to tear his eyes from beautiful women. There was always a charm about him, though, like the charisma of a well-respected bard — without the annoying craving for attention. He was messy looking, but in a good way, and his smile was infectious. At a single glance, you wouldn’t think he has killed people.

You took another sip of your ale, though it didn’t taste like much of anything.

Rauf turned his gaze back to you, a playful smile on his lips. “Maybe you should learn to dance. Perform, act. You used to always put on plays for me as a youngster.”

“I’m acting right now.” You faked a smile when he quirked his brow. “Like I don’t want to kill you.”

Rauf leaned back, his smile growing wider. “We both know you don’t kill innocent men.”

“You call yourself innocent?”

“Point taken.”  He signaled the server to bring another round, eyes almost immediately trailing back to the dancing woman.

It was your job to assassinate those deserving, but you really felt like bending the rules right now. Rauf could be distracted, but tonight he was especially so. You clenched your jaw, urging your own patience to hold out a little longer.

It was understandable why Rauf would want some time off from talking about the job. As Rauf mentioned the last time you spoke, business was, to put it lightly, booming. He had been giving out more assignments than usual — our work finally paid off, he told you. It was quite exciting, to be honest. After years of working alongside Rauf and his trusted team, you all hoped the guild would reach a wider range of people in need. 

After all, your guild was different than most; rather than be paid to kill anyone, Rauf made sure there was an unjust act committed by the targeted party. Abuse, rape, murder, any of the likes. You were vigilantes, in a way — though even the most well-known assassins of your guild wouldn’t call themselves that. You all knew you were killing — it just helped you sleep at night to know the ones who were being killed weren’t…undeserving of the death.

The rise in work was great, but also taxing on Rauf. Even just looking at him now, you could see the weight he was holding on his back. His eyes were more tired, overworked. Of course, he would never admit to it, and neither would you. Complaining leads to laziness. It was one of his many scoldings throughout your training. 

So, Rauf needing a break from his work made sense. It just made you antsy knowing there were more people out there committing heinous acts — more people you needed to terminate.

The server returned with two new cups of alcohol. As Rauf continued to watch the woman dance her troubles away, you tapped your finger on the table, shifted in your seat, fought yourself from rolling your eyes, and finally cleared your throat. You spent enough time waiting around. “Rauf.”

“Hm?” He only slightly turned to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before answering, “The target.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Finally, his attention was brought back to the task at hand. You straightened your back, readying yourself for your next assignment.

Rauf’s eyes searched your own. Finally, he spoke.“He’s a loud mouth—“

You rolled your eyes. “My favorite.”

“I wasn’t finished.” He took a big gulp from his cup and set it back on the table. “A bard.”

“Even better.” You followed his actions and chugged the rest of your drink, putting it back without so much of a blink. “What’d he do?”

Rauf’s mouth twitched. The sarcasm was spilling from his expression before he even spoke. “You’re gonna love this.”

“I bet.” You had to hold yourself back from leaning forward in anticipation.

Rauf pursed his lips. Then, he let out a quick breath. “Raped. A bunch of women.”

You quirked a brow. “A bunch?”

“Twelve. So far.”

You shook your head. “Not ‘so far’. Just twelve. There won’t be anymore.”

“Not after you’re done with him.”

“Damn right.” You settled back in your seat, anger already filling your veins. If not for your years of training with Rauf, the anger you felt would overwhelm you, cause you to be irrational and slam your fist into whoever’s face was closest. But now, you learned to contain that anger and use it on your targets. And boy, did you use it.

A thought entered your mind, but you bit your tongue for a few seconds. As Rauf lifted his cup once more, you tried to sound casual. “Who put down the money?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know that’s anonymous.”

“Of course,” You shrugged. “But if it was one of the victims, I hope you gave them a reasonable price.”

Rauf studied you for a moment. “It wasn’t a victim. It was a… family friend of the victim.”  You narrowed your eyes at him until he groaned. “Yes, I gave them a discount.”

“Good.” You leaned back with satisfaction. Now that that was out of the way, you needed to figure out the details of the target. “This target got a name?”

Rauf tapped the edge of his cup with a finger. “Julian Alfred Pankratz. Goes by Jaskier. Not quite famous, but well-known enough.”

Your eyes glazed over with near boredom. “I haven’t heard of him.”

“You haven’t heard of anyone. Well, I suppose that’s partially my fault.”

You ignored his comment. He often tried to guilt himself for not teaching you more about things other than training, fighting, killing. No matter how many times you told him you didn’t mind, he brought it up anyway. Besides, you didn’t think you wanted to know of this bard, especially after what he’s done.

“Where is the target located?”

“He was in Oxenfurt two weeks ago, at the time of the most recent…incident. Payer said he’s now in Novigrad.”

“Not far.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two, allowing the noise of the tavern to fill in the gap. You noticed Rauf eye the same woman who had been dancing practically all night. This time, you allowed your eyes to make their way to her as well. She was so carefree, seemingly impossible to tire. There was so much life in her, but you wondered what she went home to. An empty house or a full one? An abusive husband or a loving partner? A loved child or one she wished she never had? These people, they each had their own lives that lead to either pain, anger, or devastation. Each and every person would have their own life, their own struggles, their own sins. Some of them wouldn’t even realize it, or care.

You shifted your attention back to the nearly full cup in front of you. You picked it up and swirled the liquid around before bringing it to your lips. Before every assignment, you felt the same nerves as you did now. It was a mix of eagerness and hesitation. In this case, you wanted to get the son of a bitch bard, no matter what it took. But an assassination in a city like Novigrad, for a somewhat popular bard? It would be tough, that was for sure.

Rauf must have noticed your clouded eyes, as he nodded his head towards you. “You think you can handle this?”

Despite the underlying nerves, your lips curved upward and you quirked a challenging brow towards him. Within a second Rauf nodded with a similar smile, silently understanding the uselessness of his question. Of course you could handle it. It would be tough, yeah, but the job was always tough. You were trained by the best, after all.

Rauf lifted his cup and spoke with the rim to his lips, “Meet me at the Novigrad guild when you’re done. You have the usual time to finish it.”

You took one last sip of your drink, then stood from the chair as you lifted your hood over your head, “See you soon, Uncle Rauf.”

After a single nod from him, you left the tavern and descended into the darkness, ready to eliminate your next target.

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