#i would of finished this sooner but school's been kicking me in the butt

[miss-couch-potato]

Happy Goofy Gas Tuesday!

I freaking love Hannah Banana!!! Her Welsh accent and just, everything really. Hannah's version of "Theres no place like home" (dook sings that song) is so pretty 😭

I made this based off of my favorite part of the showtape:

[junowritings]

Hello! I just saw your Kalim x reader and my heart went boom!

Is there any chance that I can request a Neige Leblanche x Fem NRC student Reader?

*Where Neige falls for her quite literally and romanticly when she is setting up for VDC. But turns out his love is somewhat forbidden in a sense.*

please and thank you! Also, question! Have you seen Yuuekn for the twst manga? He's really cute in my opinion! Have a good day!

I’m so happy to hear that you liked that hun I had a lot of hun with it~! Also I feel like writing Neige on Vil’s birthday’s gonna get me cursed but it’s fiiiine~

Also HELL YEAH I’VE SEEN YUUKEN. That man threatened Crowley with a kendo stick what a legend I can’t wait for the next volume! --------

You were only supposed to oversee the others working as VDC was being set up, to go around checking on others progress and non-too-subtly marvel at all of the booths as they were being built and arranged in the appropriate locations. 

Admittedly, you were probably only allowed free reign so you didn’t get in the way of the performers as they got in some practice for the final show. If the sharp look Vil had given you when as he’d practically herded you out was anything to go by, making yourself scarce till things cooled down was your best course of action, so you’d taken to keeping track of the backstage team, if only to see all the work that went into making this long awaited event happen. 

It was just pure chance that one of the second years had caught you wandering between equipment and mistook you as part of the team. Before you knew it, he was handing you an imposingly large set of speakers and asking you to get them moved back to the stage, and perhaps if you’d been more firmer about refusing, then you wouldn’t have been scrambling towards the main area, weighty equipment in tow as you hauled them alongside you. 

Fortunately, the work you’d been dragged into suited you just fine; you’d worked a few backstage gigs during previous school events, thanks to the headmaster’s brilliant idea to leave professional work to a bunch of minimally trained students (seriously, what does Crowley even spend the event budget on?). Thankfully, you were well prepared, and it looked like the other ‘volunteers’ were grateful for the extra set of hands too, as before long you were being approached by some of the first year workers, asking for your advice or help because they weren’t sure what to do.

You’re overseeing one such first year as he sets up the wires for the overhead lights, peering over his shoulder from where he’s crouched and guiding him when needed. When he plugs in the last of the cords he turns to glance up at you, wordlessly seeking your approval.  

You grin and flash him a thumbs up. “Hey, great job. Told ya you could do it.”

At your response the student visibly relaxes, standing up and rolling off the stiffness from being stuck in such an awkward position for so long. He gives the lights a quick once over before shuffling back, releasing a sigh as he muses aloud. “Looks like that was the last of the tech setup; do you think we’ll be needed anywhere else?”

You give a noncommittal shrug. “Probably not; unless we’re needed down by the clubs I think they’re all set.” 

Honestly, the work’s pretty much done by this point, and you’re sure that sooner or later you’ll be getting a call from Rook letting you know it’s time to rejoin the group. You’ve got to admit, you’re looking forward to seeing all of the boys’ hard work pay off - you know they’ve been busting their butts to polish their routine and you’re sure their nerves are kicking in right about now.

Maybe you could bring them something back from the stalls? A good luck charm or something to snack on to ease their nerves a bit - you’re sure Ace and Kalim would appreciate some of those ‘pick-me-up’ treats from those food stands they’d been eyeing near the entrance...

Something catches your attention from the corner of your eye mid-musing, and you find yourself pausing as you cast your gaze towards the stage. There’s several people on stage, and you know at a glance that they’re not part of the crew - the pristine white and blue uniforms were a dead giveaway as is, but as you watch the small group move along the structure you freeze, eyes narrowing.

Are those...kids?

You can’t be certain, given that you’re pretty sure this is a students only event, however you’re transfixed on watching them chatter happily to one another as they point at the different decorations strung up all over the venue. There’s one boy among them that you notice, namely because he’s the tallest of the small, merry group; his smile is bright and gentle as he laughs along with his friends, guiding two of them by the hands so that the group doesn’t get separated. 

The sight is cute, no one can deny, and it's enough to tug a smile at the corner of your lips. The student beside you notices your silence and follows your gaze, gasping when he spots who you’re looking at.

“Wha-Neige is here already?!”

“Neige?” You look between the student and the boy, confused. 

Now where have you heard that name before…

Your eyes widen when you remember. Of course, Neige Leblanche! That guy you’d seen from those interviews! You remember how miffed Vil had gotten when at the sight of the soft spoken boy when they’d worked a shoot together, just about dragging you and Rook out with him before Neige had even finished his segment. Apparently they were rivals or something, but you’d never gotten the chance to ask before Vil had shut that conversation down the moment it started.

Remembering the tempered scowl on Vil’s otherwise pristine face brought a frown to your own. What was it about this guy that he’d hated so much? The more you watched Neige the more he seemed about as nice as you’d expect, regarding his friends with a soft smile that radiated nothing but warmth and kindness as they swarmed around him, all smiles and laughter. 

One of the boys tottered away from the group, wandering over to the edge of the stage to look down at the people still milling about. His fingers were wound into the scarf around his neck, pulling it up close to his face as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking around with curious eyes. Eventually, he spotted you off to the side and you found yourself smiling as you offered a small wave.

The boy’s face brightened and he didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, waving back and letting go of his scarf long enough for you to see him smiling back at you. You chuckled a little at the sight, but the little moment doesn’t last long before his face suddenly scrunches up, discomfort crossing his face.

“A-Achoo!”

He sneezes violently enough that it completely knocks him off balance, and your face pales when you watch him start to topple off of the stage. People have wrecked their ankles just trying to jump from that height, so the moment you see him start to fall you’re running to catch him, arms stretching out before you’ve even reached him.

“Ah! Snick!”

Neige notices his friend beginning to tumble and crosses the stage before you get there, calling out the boy's name as a hand reaches out to grab the back of that peach scarf and uses the garment to pull him upright. You’d have been relieved if the momentum of yanking him back hadn’t sent Neige falling right off in his place, and now you’re running to catch a different boy as you watch him go over the edge.

Fortunately, the split second difference between him and Snick gives you enough time to reach him, and Neige lands in your open arms not a moment after you get there with a gasp at the force. Mentally congratulating yourself for the good catch, you look down at the boy nestled in your arms, who looks back up at you with a surprised expression.

His hair’s skewed, hat having landed somewhere in the fall as soft black strands fall over his face and brush against his lashes. He’s close enough that you’re pretty sure that you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, and his eyes are wide - you guess he’s still shaken from the tumble - but up close you can see just how striking they are, a deep brown easing into a honey color.

‘No wonder this guy’s an actor,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘He looks like he’s straight from a painting.’

You shake the thought away and focus on the moment, lips parting to ask. “Are you okay?”

For a beat, Neige blinks up at you, speechless before breaking from his apparent reverie with a start.

“O-Oh! Y-yes, thank you.” you watch a pink hue rise to his face, dusting across his cheeks as he brings  a hand to fix his collar, gaze never straying from your own.

Your expression softens at the response. How cute.

“Niege! Neige, are you okay?!”

A voice calls out, and you look up just in time to spot Neige’s gaggle of friends as they race down the stage stairs, moving to converge around you and the boy in your arms. The one who yelled - with silver hair and glasses - seems relieved when he sees Niege is unharmed, and Snick looks on the verge of tears as he shuffles to his friend’s side, bumbling apologies between sniffles.

Neige smiles and reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Snick’s hair. “It’s alright; I’m fine, everyone.”

The spectacled boy turns to you and bows. “Thank you so much for your help!”

You shuffle anxiously at the praise. “Ah, well, it’s no sweat, really - I’m glad I caught him in time! Heh…”

Both you and Neige sneak a look at one another, and as your eyes meet you become acutely aware of the fact that you’re still holding him to your chest. Masking your embarrassment with a cough, you loosen your grip enough for him to ease back onto his feet. He smooths out his sweater and you lean down to grab his hat, shaking it back into shape before moving to place it back onto his head. 

You don’t think twice about tucking some stray strands of hair behind his ear until he lets out a soft “Oh!” and you fluster, bringing your hands to your chest as he mirrors the motion.

“Thank you for catching me!” he hums, words sincere as he gives a little bow of his own.

“It’s no problem!” you give an idle wave, rubbing the back of your neck as you add. “Besides, the headmaster would have my head if another school’s student got hurt on our school grounds!”

Neige raises a brow at your words, but laughs along with you when you chuckle.

“So, you guys are entering VDC, right?” you venture a guess, changing the subject, and you watch the group nod in various degrees of agreement.

“Yes! I’m looking forward to seeing everyone perform!” Neige beams at the mention of the event. “Are you a member of the NRC team…?”

He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know your name; when you tell him, he repeats the name back to himself softly, as though making sure to remember it.

“As for me? I’m not on their team, well, technically.” you find yourself hesitating for a moment. “I’m more of a manager, cheering on the team and helping out with set-up. Though, Vil’s been handling most of the work, heh.”

“Vil?” he parrots back to you, looking visibly delighted at the name Happy to ramble about your friend, you’re quick to continue.

“Yeah! He’s been working really hard with everyone to polish their performance - I swear, you’re gonna love it! He’s actually-”

“(Y/N)-!”

You freeze, head whipping in the direction of the voice, spotting Vil striding in your direction as the crowd parts seamlessly to move out of his way. You grin as you watch him approach, but your smile falters a bit when you see his expression. Though his face remains carefully neutral, you’ve known him long enough to recognize that he’s positively seething, and you have no idea what’s got him so angry.

Still surprised to see him, you shift to face him. “Oh, hey Vil! What are you doing-?”

“We need to go.” Vil’s voice is stern, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder guiding you away from Niege and back towards the way he’d come from.

“Wha-why?” you sputter, confused.

“The event’s nearly starting, and we’re up first - you’re going to be late.”

He punctuates each word carefully, though gives you a surprisingly soft smile and brings his free hand to rest against your back when he notices the confusion visible on your face. “The others are waiting for you.” he adds, as though working to ease your concern as he continues to walk with you.

“O-oh, okay.” you fumble for a moment before craning your neck to look back at Neige, giving him the brightest smile you can muster as you wave.

“See you later, Neige! Good luck with the performance~!”

Neige returns the wave, soft smile betrayed by furrowed brows as he watches your retreating form disappear back into the bustle of people. For a few moments he tries to spot you in the crowd before reluctantly giving up, bringing a hand up to his chest and lightly grasping his sweater between his fingers.

“(Y/N)...” he mumbles aloud, hoping to himself that this isn’t the last time he sees you today.

[aredheadedmess]

Pied Piper || JJK [6]

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an investigative journalist for the Daily Bullet, usually doesn’t see much out of the ordinary; A missing person’s case gone cold, an old case reopened and solved with updated technology, the thrilling excitement when another puzzle of one of the biggest serial killers is cracked. But when an old file resurfaces, she brings back a past that should have been burned with the file a long time ago.

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, talks of a disappearance/missing person(s), minor/slightly major injuries, falling from heights, broken glass, spiderwebs, allusion to death, food (mostly meat and eggs), please let me know if I missed anything!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Mystery/Thriller, Paranormal, Strangers to Friends

Chapter Rating: Pg-13

A/N: 😶I have no excuses... I apologize for not having update this is such a while. School is kicking my butt this semester and i've had to put a lot more focus on my classes. BUT i was able to find time each week to finish this chapter! I've been meaning to get this out WAY sooner than it is, but i did what i could. Either way, I'm back! I'm hoping that the rest of the semester goes a little smoother so I can get another chapter out in a more reasonable time! So please stick with me!

I hope you enjoy this chapter though!! 😊

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

3 September, 20XX

You can smell the heavenly aroma of a home cooked breakfast before even ever waking up. It drifts through your dreamworld, reaching your nose, and easing you awake—something that you haven’t had happen since before you started college years ago. It wasn’t often that Jungkook made breakfast. In fact, this would be only the second time he would offer you something other than the bread on the counter and the fruit in the fridge. So before he has a chance to knock on your door or eat all the food himself, you are dressed and stepping out of your room.

You peek your head around the corner, curious to see him in his natural habitat. Since staying here, Jungkook has been on edge with you—which you completely understand. A stranger waltzing into your home trying to solve the cases that were deemed unsolvable, and especially ones that you are personally affected by, isn’t going to make you open up the moment you introduce yourselves. So you try to keep quiet.

Standing in front of the stove, Jungkook flips an egg in the pan. It sizzles the moment it reconnects with the hot metal. It’s hard to tell from the angle you’re at, but the look on his face as he moves around the kitchen seems serene. A stark contrast to the hardened glare he always has around you. He moves to face your direction as he takes the egg from the pan and moves it to the plate sitting on the counter beside him. As quickly and quietly as possible, you push yourself away from the entryway, hoping that Jungkook didn’t notice your presence.

“Staring at me won’t make me like you.”

Damn it.

You carefully step out from your hiding place, an innocent look painted onto your face. Maybe if you appear less hostile yourself, Jungkook might do the same. Though, he doesn’t make an effort to acknowledge you when you walk into the kitchen. Are you disappointed? No. But you wish that he’d make the effort to help you in your investigation, more than the vague answers he’s already given you. If that means you’ll do whatever it takes to show him that you are not the bad guy, that you can be trusted, so be it.

You make a beeline straight for the plate of eggs. Jungkook must not have anticipated your movement as the moment his hands grab onto the plate, you manage to knock your own against it, almost causing the eggs to fly off the plate and onto his shirt. Though, with reflexes faster than the shutter on the film camera, Jungkook is able to pull the plate back to save them from slipping off. His eyes instantly meet yours.

“Sorry,” you mutter, smiling sheepishly at him.

Jungkook scoffs, presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, and swiftly moves to sit in his chair at the dining table. You shuffle over yourself, gingerly pulling out your own chair and sitting down.

For a few minutes, the two of you eat in utter silence. The utensils scraping against the ceramic dishes are the only telltale that either of you are even breathing to begin with. You know your shy glances across the table to the man who despises you isn’t making the tension in the air dissipate any less than it has been over the past week.

Finally, you quietly ask what has been on your mind since the night prior.

“You weren’t ever going to tell me weren’t you?”

Jungkook freezes mid bite. His eyes bore straight through you. Does he even know what I’m talking about? Slowly, he finishes the food in his mouth, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Is that surprising?” He speaks low and slow. He definitely knows, you note. “I don’t have any reason to trust you, let alone tell you that my own friend disappeared because of whatever the hell is happening here.”

The sudden noise of his metal fork connecting with the ceramic as he stabs the egg on his plate, starles you. You're sure he has the strength to break through the plate if he wanted to. You sit up straighter, trying to match his intensity.

“I don’t blame you, but don’t you realize that this could be valuable information? I might be able to figure this out and give you the closure you need.”

Jungkook sets his hands against the table, pushing his chair out enough for him to stand. He leans against the tabletop and brings his face closer.

“I don’t need closure. What I need is for you to leave this town.”

Standing yourself, you mirror his stance. If his idea is to run you out of town by making you feel inferior, he won’t be successful. You’ll give back more than what he’s giving you if that’s what it will take for you to stay and finish your job.

“I will when I’m satisfied.”

“Do I really want to do this?”

Staring up at the fractured facade of the main school building, your shoulders become heavy. No. Your answer is no. Why on earth would someone in their right mind come to a crumbling building willing, to try to find the pieces you need to complete the thousand piece puzzle that this investigation is becoming? Right, because maybe you aren’t in your right mind—were you ever even in the first place?

“Please be kind to me,” you whisper as you step up to the building.

There is only one entrance, Jungkook reluctantly told you before you left, a second floor window on the east side of the school. It’s the only accessible one that was left unboarded thanks to some of the rebellious teenagers that visit the building every once in a while. To get inside, you have to pull over the stack of crates behind the nearest bush. It takes a moment for it to budge from the weeds growing through the holes of the bottom crate, but you manage to drag it haphazardly against the building. With how high the second floor windows are, you’re not surprised to see how steep the makeshift stairs are. One wrong step could send you crashing against the ground. Sure, you more than likely wouldn’t break any bones, but falling against the rocky ground will leave you with a few good scrapes and bruises.

Carefully placing your foot against the first crate, you wobbly push yourself off the ground. The weight of your bulky backpack pulls you back slightly and you have to claw at the next crate up to keep yourself from falling back on your equipment. Slowly, you make it to the top—not without your shoes slipping off the crates a few times on the way—taking a breath before stealthily avoiding the broken glass still in the window pane. Once your feet touch the floor, you let out a sigh. You don’t appreciate standing on solid ground enough.

You pull out your phone. Though nothing else works on it—you’ve tried so many different tricks to get your internet to work, but nothing seems to happen—at least you have enough battery to use your flashlight. There is light coming through the window, but it’s not enough to light the entire area as the sun is shining on the opposite side of the building. Slowly, you scan the room.

“This place is just as bad as the library.”

Crumpled and torn paper, overturned desks, broken bookshelves, and various art supplies are scattered across the floor of the small classroom you find yourself in. You’re not surprised to see that many of the papers, as well as the walls of the rundown school, are covered in crude drawings and spray paint. Do teens have nothing else to do?

You carefully make your way out into the hallway. A chill runs down your spine the moment you step out of the classroom. Though it’s mid-day and probably the clearest sunny day you’ve seen since coming into town, the boarded up windows of the second floor keep most of the sunlight out. There are a few gaps between the boards in the windows on either end of the hallway that give you slivers of light, lighting enough of the path to the staircase that you could probably do without your flashlight. Though, you don’t dare take any risks, keeping your own light shining just ahead of your feet.

You need to get what you’re looking for and get out. Despite having been in abandoned buildings before, there’s something about the school that doesn’t sit right with you. Maybe it’s the fact that all of the children had disappeared from the courtyard, or maybe it’s the idea that anyone could follow you in and sneak up behind you and-

I need to be quick.

Making your way down the stairs, you find yourself in front of an even larger corridor. Memories of your own education begin to come back to your mind as you walk down the hallway, searching for the main office area. Times of embarrassment—like the day you tripped up the stairs in front of a large group of people, one of which was your high school crush—and excitement fills your brain.

“Finally,” you whisper.

The window wall of the office welcomes you. You quickly step inside, dismissing the fact that the door has been pulled off its hinges and most of the glass is shattered. What’s not to expect in a building as damaged as this? You walk behind the front counter—somewhere you did not enjoy going to when you were younger, as that usually was during a trip to the principal's office. A smaller hallway towards the back of the office holds the principal and vice principal’s offices. You can only assume that what you’re looking for is tucked away into one of the rooms.

“If I were a filing cabinet full of student files,” you wonder, “where would I be?”

Stepping through the threshold of the vice president’s office, you weave your way through the doorway as you avoid all of the spiderwebs clustered around the frame. Your eyes quickly spot a couple of cabinets laying on their sides peeking out from behind the desk. A couple of the drawers have popped open—probably after being knocked over—and the files inside threaten to spill out. Leaning in close to see the contents of the open drawers, you smile victoriously.

Inside the cabinet is exactly what you are looking for. Files of students ranging from when the school first opened to when it last held a class lay almost untouched. You take out the crumpled sticky note you shoved in your pocket before leaving the bed and breakfast earlier. Your messy handwriting is hard to decipher even under the light of your phone’s flashlight, but you manage to make out the names of the missing children just enough to move your focus to the filing cabinet.

You thumb through the files. They shouldn’t be that hard to find, right? You’re quickly proven wrong as the files aren’t in alphabetical order like you assumed they would have been. Rather, the students in the same graduating class are situated together. Which, you realize, isn’t very many per class, but when the school has been open since the 1940s, there’s still a lot to go through.

One by one, you sort through the files. To your surprise, it doesn’t take as long to find each student—save for the fight you had opening a couple of the cabinet drawers—and you are out of the office in the blink of an eye. You tuck the handful of files into your backpack, careful not to let the loose papers slip out and land amongst the plethora of paperwork on the floor.

“Shit.”

If it’s a prank, you don’t find it even an ounce funny. In the time you were able to get in and now out of the school, someone has moved the stack of crates back to it’s spot behind the bushes. A chill runs down your spine at the thought of someone watching and waiting for you to explore the building, even if it was a rebellious teenager. You peer out of the window, glancing down at the height of the second story window. If you can’t find another way out of the school, you’re going to have to brave falling to the ground.

You carefully push away from the window, glancing back towards the rest of the building. Is it worth your time trying to find an easier exit? As far as you’re concerned, and from what Jungkook told you, there is no other way out, especially on the ground floor. Though, if you know how teenagers work, you're sure that there is somewhere else that they can sneak through. So you make your way back down the stairs. You scour the building, cautiously poking your head through every open space you can find, yet none of them take you where you want to go.

It’s almost sundown by the time you make it back up to the second story window. Despite your efforts, you can’t find another exit. Your nerves eat at you at the thought of having to jump down from the height. One wrong move and you can kiss yourself goodbye. You peek over the window’s edge. There’s a group of mangled bushes off to the side, and your heart races. If you can manage to swing over and land in the bushes, you will be better off than hitting the dirt patches below you. Taking a deep breath, you slowly slide your backpack off your back. You hang it over the edge and swing it, tossing it a little farther than you thought you would. It lands amongst the branches, cracking a few as gravity pulls it further into the shrubbery. Now for me. Picking up a piece of paper from the floor, you brush away as much of the broken glass shards as you can, keeping you from hurting yourself too much in the process—not that falling from a second story window will do any less damage. Once the loose pieces are pushed to the floor, you throw a leg over the ledge, then the other, twist your body enough that you can hold on without worrying about slipping as you try to get situated, and carefully lower your body down to hang from the ledge.

Your heart is pounding against your chest the longer you hang there. You have to act quick before your fingers lose their grip and you’re sent tumbling to the ground without warning. With what strength you can muster, you try to swing yourself a little as you aim for the bushes. One last swing, and you push yourself away from the wall and towards the shrubbery. Your heart seems to stop. For the split second you feel yourself floating in the air, you regret your actions. What if you don’t land where you wanted to? What if there is something in the bushes that hurts you more than you are expecting? What if-

Your back hits something hard. Your limbs follow, and you can begin to feel the way the branches scrape your skin. The pain doesn’t register in your brain until you relax into the bush. You know, without even having to look, that you’re beaten up pretty badly.

The heat coming from your skin the longer you lay there becomes too unbearable. You have to force yourself to roll out of the bush and onto your feet. Your arms sting the more you move them, but you push through it. Landing wobbly on the ground, you hiss. The cool summer breeze that travels past you makes your wounds hurt more than they were before. Carefully, as to not strain the injuries further, you reach for your backpack. It feels a lot heavier than you remember, but perhaps it’s because you can’t take much weight onto your body. You are sure that you won’t be able to move a limb tomorrow.

“There has to be something.”

You groan. As you shift in your seat, the bandages wrapped around you seem to pull tighter against your skin. Sure, having the pressure is a welcomed feeling, but your unconscious movements lit your body on fire once again.

The moment you arrived back at the bed and breakfast, Jungkook was quick to call you an idiot for doing what you did. Though, that didn’t stop him from helping you take care of your injuries—even if he did it all the while cursing at you underneath his breath.

The student files spread across the surface of the living room coffee table. You were much too sore to move from the couch after being bandaged up, so you decided to look at the files in the open. Jungkook was eager to step into the kitchen when you began pulling out the folders and the first name he saw was too familiar to him. For the hour that you’ve sat, studying each file, comparing one to another, there is nothing that tells you why the children went missing. You had hoped that there would be a common thing amongst the victims—a similar birthday or upbringing; maybe a certain personality trait; anything—but you come up empty.

“Nothing makes sense,” you whine, slowly laying against the back of the couch.

A knock on the doorframe shakes you from your confusion.

“Dinner is ready.”

Your eyes drift to Jungkook’s figure leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. For a moment, you swear you catch a glimpse of sympathy and concern as he stares at your injured form, but it’s gone the moment you try to search for it further. He pushes away from the wall, turning back towards the kitchen without another word, leaving you to get up by yourself. You struggle, trying to push your body off the couch. It takes you a couple minutes before you can waddle into the kitchen.

The moment you step into the room the smell of meat becomes intense. You could faintly smell it as you sat in the next room over, but you didn’t pay much mind to it, hyperfocused on trying to find a relation between the children. Set in the center of the table for a change, several meat dishes lay on the tabletop. Your mouth waters at the sight of the food. So as quickly as possible, despite the state you’re in, you join Jungkook in dishing up your dinner.

The two of you eat in silence, enjoying the delicious food too much to even think about anything else. But slowly, your mind drifts back to the files still spread on the coffee table. Much like the conversation you had this morning, you break the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes glance up to meet yours before flickering back down. He continues to cut at the meat on his plate, responding before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth, glaring at the plate.

“No.”

You dismiss his answer. There is no other way you can get through him besides poking at him with your questions. Soon enough he’ll break like a dam under pressure, right?

“Did you know about any of the other kids before his disappearance?”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?”

“Just answer the question.”

Your food goes untouched as you wait patiently for Jungkook to say something. You’re sure he can feel your stare the longer it takes for him to acknowledge your determined self. As you open your mouth again to annoy him to the point of spilling whatever information he has, he sighs. He glances up at you unfazed by your glare.

“Yeah. Most of it was rumors, but the teachers briefed over them in our history lessons.” He clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter. “So when… that… happened, they tried to pin the blame on me, saying that I tried to ‘copy’ the past.”

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook scoffs, rolling his eyes before shoving the knife in his hand against his food once again.

“If you’re so damn curious, why don’t you read the police report?”

Someone pounds frantically against the front door. It echoes into the rest of the house, a startling difference to the quiet, although tense, conversation between you and Jungkook. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

He glances in the direction of the door. He mutters something under his breath, standing up from the table, and cautiously walks out of the kitchen.

“Stay here,” he warns before disappearing from sight.

You can hear the frustrated sigh he lets out before you hear the click of the lock. The door swings open with a light squeak. Another voice calls out into the air, this time much higher pitched than the man you are staying with.

“Where’s that reporter?”

“Hey! You can’t just-”

As you push yourself from the table, a plump woman appears in the doorway to the kitchen. She turns to look in the room, her eyes widening the moment she spots your figure. She rushes over to you and grabs a hold of your shoulders. You hiss at the contact, but the woman doesn’t seem to notice as she begins rapidly speaking to you.

“You have to help me. My daughter’s gone.”

“Look, Martha,” Jungkook interrupts. The woman, Martha, turns to look at him as he continues. “Go back home. She’s probably just hiding somewhere.”

Martha’s shoulders fall at his words.

“No! She’s really gone!” she exclaims.

She lets go of you, turning her whole body towards Jungkook. You can see the way her hands shake as she reaches out to take his hands in hers. The two of them bicker back and forth for a moment, ignoring your presence.

“Ma’am, are you sure?” you manage to get out between their exchanges.

The moment she meets your eyes again, she’s at your feet. Martha nods frantically, tugging at your arms as you try to lift her from her kneeling position. You wince at her actions, the injuries on your arms still too fresh.

“I heard it.”

With a hum of confusion, your focus switches from the pain in your body to the tears trailing down her cheek.

“Heard it?”

“The Piper’s music.”

Taglist: @jjin-kun​ @rosiekook​ @joyfulhopelox @lavienjin @swanguk @stanny-uwu @areigahto​ @seokout​ @bonobonoyaaaahh @seajae​​

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[manyfictionsmusings]

Pull Me Like A Ripcord

Summary:

This story takes place immediately after the events of X-Men Apocalypse, where Peter decides against going back to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, despite seeking his father’s attention prior. This fic will just be growing and “mutating” as I write but promising lots of Dad/son angst, hurt/comfort etc.

Chapter 1: AfterEffects

As naïve as it was, Peter had hoped Erik would somehow realize he was his son, now that idea seemed cold and stupid. Why would Erik magically know who he was? He wasn’t Charles, a mind reader, and this wasn’t a fantasy kingdom where the orphan got his father in the end of the story.

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest, or at least he would have if he could have moved his shattered knee, the pain, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the long day sent him easily to tears. He wasn’t used to losing, he wasn’t used to being physically injured. The finale of the Egyptian battle had seen the x-men triumph, but Peter himself had lost…lost another chance to connect with Erik, if only he’d been able to get the better of the Immortal it might have impressed his father enough to take note of him, but instead if it hadn’t been for Raven’s distractions, the Beast’s strength and his own father’s shift in loyalties, he would have been just another victim in the note book of Apocalypse.

Peter drew a shaky breath, trying to force the events to wash over him, normally things didn’t bother him, but the last few months he’d changed, the others here at the school, or what was left of the school…he didn’t want to call them family but that’s what they felt like to him. It scared him and it was too much to hope for, he’d been disappointed to many times to open up like that. Which was why he’d told Beast to take him to a regular hospital in Cairo and he’d make his own way home once he was healed.

Beast had had his reservations about it, leaving the scrawny, pale kid who’d been with them since he’d saved literally everyone at Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters seemed a shitty way to repay him, but he’d finally consented to it, only after Peter had gotten angry and started yelling.

He felt lonely now, in the hospital bed, with an oxygen tube in his nose and his injured leg casted and hoisted by a sling, a thousand miles from anyone he knew, but the pain was reminding him of his failures as one of the x-men and the isolation served to remind him why he didn’t bother with people, especially his father.

They always left. Or were never there to begin with.

He deserved this.

“You don’t deserve any of this, Peter.”

Peter jolted, startled for only a second by the gentle voice, there was only one person it could be, to know what precisely he was thinking. He hurriedly wiped tears off his face before Charles came any closer.

“I told Beast I was fine. I don’t want anyone wasting any more time on me.”

“Beast didn’t tell your secret, but I was worried about you, Peter. You think I was going to just leave Egypt without you? I wouldn’t leave here without any of you.” Charles stepped closer, softly he took his hand and squeezed gently.  “You all mean so much to me. I owe you my life, Peter.”

He removed his hand and crossed his arms. “I didn’t do anything, if…if Erik hadn’t stepped in, we all would have been killed-including you.”

Charles glanced towards the monitors attached to the young man, before his eyes roamed across the physical state of Peter, in contemplation. “It was a group effort; it took all of us.” He finally spoke after a moment of hesitation. “I know you seek his attention and yet you’re afraid of it…Lehnsherr is coming back with us to New York, he’s going to help me rebuild the institution.”

Peter glanced up, his eyes reflecting a youthful hope the professor hadn’t seen for some time. “I thought he left.”

Charles shook his head. “It’s a way to…perhaps earn his attention, little by little anyway. What do you think? Will you return with me?”

Peter grimaced. “I’m not in great shape professor, encase you haven’t noticed. I might swing in when I’m up and around.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I know all your pains, I’m sorry. I put your life in such horrific danger-”

“I came along on the mission of my own free will, no one forced me,” Peter interrupted.

Charles gripped his shoulder suddenly with an assertive intention. “Let me oversee your recovery, Maximoff, please, it’s the least I can do. I won’t leave here until you agree to be transferred to a hospital in New York, preferably close to Salem Center. You don’t have to be bothered by anyone from the school. But knowing you aren’t in Egypt would put my mind at ease.”

Peter sighed, he was feeling it again, the warm sensation that made him relaxed and somehow extremely uncomfortable at the same time. Family was something he would never be able to hold on to. He was going to mess it up, he knew that. He could already feel the threads slipping between pale, desperate, grasping fingers. But in the meantime, Charles cared about him enough to hunt him down in one of many Cairo hospitals, and he’d checked in under an alias. The professor cared enough to come back, or had he never left in the first place? His caring nature was beyond consolation to Peter’s broken, cold body, so comforting in fact he felt tears welling up again!

He sniffled and hurriedly wiped his brow before their return, nodding. “I’ll come with you.”

Professor Xavier had kept his word, medically and financially he’d arranged for everything to be taken care of, transporting Peter from Cairo to New York. He’d also arranged for him to have his own private room in Sheeran Hospital—a private hospital in upstate New York, forty-five miles from the current disaster of Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.

Over the next two weeks physically Peter’s injuries slowly healed but mentally he felt wrecked beyond compare. He started having reoccurring nightmares that he couldn’t run; his ability had been fractured when the monstrosity had snapped his leg like a twig under his boot. In the dream he was trying to run away from someone, his first thought was that it was Apocalypse but a couple nights later he realized it was just a shadowy figure, one he could never outrun. Each time he fell, immobilized as pain shot through his leg, the sound of his own bones crunching reverberated in his ears, just as it had that day.

The nurses had unfortunately taken note of his mood, though Peter hadn’t put much effort into hiding his grim attitude, he’d slipped in a snarky remark about getting some extra drugs for an overdose. The nurse didn’t find his dark humor amusing and Charles suspiciously showed up the very next day.

He didn’t say much at first, just sat near Peter’s bed, looking out the enormous rectangle window that looked west, on a glowing sunset. “You have a good view though,” he finally spoke.

Peter pursed his lips. “I do appreciate your hospitality Professor, but I’m fine, you don’t have to check in on me. Just... really bored here you know, I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in one place this long…it’s wearing on me, I feel weird being at this speed.”

Charles turned his chair to face him, hands in his pockets, yet concern on his features. “Must be very uncomfortable to be forced to slow down. How’s physical therapy going?”

Peter avoided the older man’s gaze for some reason and snorted. “I mean it’s slow, I’m not the patience type or a patient for that matter…”

Charles nodded. “But the sooner you’re hobbling around, the sooner I can get you out of here.”

“And take me where?” Maximoff snipped with his signature deep-set frown.

Charles chuckled, “You’d be surprised what several telekinetic mutants can accomplish when it comes to construction. The east wing is already rebuilt, for now we’re using it for sleeping quarters. It’s a little crowded but…”

“…Anything is better than the smell of hospital?” Peter finished, trying to keep his mind in constant motion—moving from thought to thought. He didn’t know how much the professor knew about what he was thinking but Xavier had already noted his inward conception about seeking Erik’s attention in Egypt, so his guess was he was an open book, but Peter’s thoughts could be about as fast as his movement when we wanted them to be. “Well sounds like I need to hit therapy harder, if you’re actually going to get me out of here.”

As much as Peter didn’t intend to be shambling around a cramped wing in the school, Charles’ visit served to kick him in the butt about getting out of Sheeran soon, regardless of where he went afterward. And if he was being honest, he had never planned to go back to the school, though he also wasn’t ready to face his reasoning for not returning there.

No one was going to miss him, well not the one person that mattered, because he couldn’t even see Peter for who he was. A new plan had quickly formulated—get his leg in good enough shape to slip off before Charles came back for him and circumvent the entire situation altogether.

The nightmares continued to plague him, as day after day he added a little weight to the tender broken leg, between tears and a lump that had formed on his lip from how many times he had bit it to deal with the pain, he started making it all the way through the routes the therapist had set up for him. Once he realized he could make it to the end of the routine he had to mentally stop himself from trying out his true speed. He continually checked himself, forced himself to be normal, move slowly. He embraced the pain wholly, promising himself a whole box of Lemonheads when he got out of here.

A week and two days after Charles’ visit, Peter decided he was going. He’d woke up from his worst nightmare by far, clutching his throat, covered in sweat, his heart was beating hard enough his chest ached. His leg was throbbing with shadow pain from Apocalypse breaking it, only in this dream he hadn’t been saved before the giant mutant had slit his throat and tossed him aside like trash. His father hadn’t even noticed or cared.

Peter swallowed painfully, still tracing his fingers across the smooth, blanched flesh of his neck as he slipped out of bed. His x-men costume had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, or maybe the professor had taken it, either way Charles had been kind enough to replace it with his current pajamas and a change of clothing. Not the usual silver tinted clothing but considering he still wasn’t up to his Quicksilver speed, it seemed fitting to pull on the dark blue jeans and faded orange hoodie. Peter sighed in comfort at the velvety worn state of both items as they contacted his skin, though he tried to ignore how billowy the clothes were on him, he’d lost a significant amount of weight since Egypt—which the nurses had been lecturing him over—but what could you expect when there was only hospital food and no snacks to be seen.

Next Peter attempted to calm his silvery hair, by brushing his fingers through it repeatedly, which only seemed to make it worse. Between the wild shock of hair and the dark rimmed eyes, his reflection looked ghostly, coupled with the dim hospital lighting.

Peter exhaled calmly before grabbing the only items that had made it back with him from Egypt, his googles and his earphones, he stuck one of the foreign crutches under each armpit and silently slipped out of Sheeran Hospital…

[yamithediaperdork]

My little brothers revenge, Part 2

Alex woke up Sunday morning and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes and hearing the heavy snoring of his asshole big brother.

'Man, can't believe I conked out so bad!' He thought, now rubbing his arm across his chin and mouth to take care of any left over drool. 'I guess I must of been more tired then I thought..Ugh.. and Justin's been stinking up the room again in his sleep.'

Alex put his fingers to his nose, glaring over at his brother who was a well know toxic hazard in his sleep and as such normally got his own tent when the family went out camping.

Tossing his blanket back Alex froze as the smell not only got worse in the room, but it became clear WHAT the source of the stink was as he looked down and the shot swelled diaper around his waist.

'No way..no.freaking.way!' Alex thought as he blushed beet red.

he quickly glanced over at Justin who was thankfully still asleep and then slowly got up onto his hand sand knees and crawled backwards to get out of his bed, trying not to squish the mess around any worse and fighting back whimpers that might of woken Justin up.

There was NO way if Justin saw him in a shitty diaper that he'd ever let Alex live it down, and he could easily picture Justin 'accidentally' bringing it up around his friends or even at school.

getting his feet on the floor Alex found himself forced to do a cowboy walk of sorts from the bulk of his filled diaper and as quietly as he could he made his way to the door and out into the hall, praying to every deity he could think of that he was the first one awake since it was only 8:34 am and mom and dad liked to sleep in on Sundays.

Fate was not on his side however as he made his way towards the bathroom and saw that the door was closed. before he could even think of turning around and waddling back to his room the door opened and out stepped mom.

She appeared to of smelled Alex before spotting him from the way her nose wrinkled, then she looked eyes on him and her mouth twitched as if she was fighting the urge to smirk.

"Did somebody have a stinky accident?" She asked, sounding amused but coming over.

"I..I didn't mean to.." Alex whimpered and looked down, all sorts of shame flooding though his body and he was fighting back tears.

Instantly she went from amused to trying to comfort him, even if she winced as she knelt down in front of him and cupping his chin.

"Alex it's ok, accidents happen. this this goes to prove that you're not feeling so well. Maybe I'll let you stay home while I go and get you some more diapers later." She said in a soothing voice.

"I..Yeah Ok mommy." Alex said, feeling very much like a big baby as she then picked him up, hands under his armpits and carried him to the bathroom.

"I think maybe it's for the best you're gonna be in diapers all day today too. you wouldn't wanna have a poopie accident in your Captain America briefs right?" She asked.

This was NOT helping Alex feel better but he just nodded his head, kicking his legs a little.

"Uh..Uh..Mommy? I-I can clean myself up." he said as she carried him into the bathroom and stood him in the tub.

"I'm sure you could, but it'll go faster with my help and I don't think you want Justin seeing you like this." She said with a warm smile.

"I-I guess you got a point." Alex whimpered.

Oh yeah, he was gonna get revenge on his brother and prove who was the big baby in the house alright. right after his mom changed his dirty diaper.

'God, what have I done to piss you off so much?' he silently asked as his mom started to open his diaper.

One humiliating clean up and shower later and Alex was in a clean diaper and downstairs at the kitchen table, having some toast and tea. Normally Sunday's were a sausage and bacon filled feast if you waited long enough for Mom to get up but she had been wary about putting too much into Alex's system and asked him to go simple. Alex wasn't happy about it, but since Mom had put the plastic bag with his stinky diaper in the trunk of the car and promised to get rid of it away from the house he decided to humor her.

He was in just one of his Spider-man diapers and a loose Iron man t-shirt and kicking his legs softly at the table when Justin came down stair's with a grossed out look on his face, spotting Alex before he saw mom.

"Geez Alexandra, did you crap yourself or something? Our room friggen reeks!" He complained and then fully walked into the Kitchen and saw their mother standing there, NOT looking happy.

"Excuse me, but I thought your father and I talked about you calling Alex that name." She said in a less then amused tone.

"Er..well..See, Alex likes the nick name! Yeahhh, He said it just didn't feel right if I wasn't teasing him." Justin lied, Looking to Alex for back up.

"Alex is that true?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, Not at all. I've told him to quit it." Alex said smirking big time.

"i see. Justin, How would you like it if I called Justine or Jessica all day?" Mom asked, smirking now.

"..I wouldn't like it very much." Justin muttered and looked down at the floor now.

"Mmmhmm..So keep that in mind next time you get the urge to brat..I can always go and get you a adorable pretty princess lunch box and put Justine on the front of it and make you take it to school. Your father isn't the only one who can get creative with punishments."

Threat made Anne turned back to the kitchen counter and started on making Justin some breakfast.

"Y-You wouldn't!" Justin whined.

"Wanna try me? I'm already going to the store in a bit for more diapers for Alex." She said and smirked. "As is, I think you can have a nice toast and tea breakfast like your little brother. He's not feeling so good so you'll be watching him today."

"Ahhh moooom, I was gonna go hang out with Grizz and Rayne today!" Justin whined."I'm Sure Alex is a big enough boy he can look after himself! Or Dad can watch him!"

"Your father is going and helping Mr.Nilson build his deck today, But if you stay here I'll lift the TV ban so you two can play video games. Co-op only, I don't wanna come back to you both all mad at each other like what happens every single time you play a versus game."

Her point made the brothers both sulked as neither really wanted to be stuck with the others company.

Justin huffed his way though breakfast. between having to have buttered toast and tea instead of a meat explosion and being stuck with Alex all day he knew this was gonna suck all the balls, at least till he recalled his evil plan from last night and brightened up.

'Wait, no mom..no dad..and just me and the pamper butt. Oh yes yes yes yes yes! this is gonna work out great!' Justin thought and got a big silly grin on his face.

"Well, Somebody's cheered up after his tea." Mom teased.

"Oh yeah, I just had to wake up some more you know? I think I can have LOTS of fun with Alex today mom, so don't worry if you wanna take a bit." Justin said then added. "I know you like to drive around and it'll be nice for you not to have dad bugging you to hurry up or listening to me and Alex fighting."

"Well that's nice of you, though Alex is on his last two clean diapers so I really should hurry back." Mom said, giving Justin a half hug.

"oh nonsense! Alex is just gonna wear the diapers, It's not like he needs them mom, Right little bro?" Justin asked and smirked.

With Justin was being happy and helpful alarm bells were going off in Alex's head but there was nothing he could really say in argument of mom coming back sooner without tipping off he'd pooped himself earlier or making it sound like he needed his day time huggies. It was a catch 22 and Justin's look told Alex he knew it.

"yeah mom, I'll be ok..I'm sure me and Justin will have lots of fun." Alex said, trying to sound cheery.

Aside from not wanting to sound like he needed his diapers, he knew if he tried to whine to go with her or have her come back fast he'd also sound like a whinny little mama's boy.

"Well ok, If you boys are sure. I'll be heading out in a bit then, why don't you two leave the dishes for me and go and play some video games. And since you're both being good little guys for mommy." Anne smirked as both boys made a face at that. "You can both have 3 cans of soda each. Just try and spread them out."

the ugh faces turned into surprised smiles as mom was usually a stickler on the boys sticking to juice or water and she was always careful to keep a count on the can's of pop in the fridge.

Finishing up their light breakfast, the boys put their dishes in the sink and washed up a little then each one grabbed a can of cola out of the fridge and got a Blanket set out over the floor, well Alex got the blanket over the floor while Justin made sure the curtains were drawn shut.

Naturally normally Justin would of loved to of had the curtains wide open to show off his BABY brother but with mom still home he had to play nice.

Sides he wanted to try and draw Alex into a sense of relaxation before springing his super genius evil plan on him.

Alex wasn't falling for it for a second but went and fired up one of their rare co-op two player games (Since Justin wasn't a fan of retro games) and the boy's started to play, pausing only to wave bye to mom as she headed out, telling them that she'd be back in a hour or so, and to make sure dad woke up soon as he'd promised to be over helping with the deck bright and early.

They played in peace for about half a hour, with only cries of booya, eat it and the like coming out of their mouths and Justin giving Alex tips and for the most part they actually got along for a change.

That being said, all good things have to end and Justin never put his plan out of his mind, so when it was time to go and wake they're dad up he volunteered to do it while Alex took a much needed potty break.

Stopping by their room to grab Alex's phone Justin made a quick little call.

"Ngggh.. Yello?" came the groggy voice of Max.

"Heyyy max. how's it going?" Justin asked, keeping his voice down.

"Ngggh..Justin? what are you doing calling me?" the sleepy boy asked.

"Well Alex is kinda been missing you, and I was trying to set up a little surprise for him but getting you to come over and hang out with him." Justin said, grinning ear to ear.

"...OK who are you and what have you done with Justin?" Max asked, sounding suspicious.

"Hey, I can be a nice guy every now and then. but if you don't wanna come over finnnne." Justin huffed, mentally cursing just how well Max knew him.

"...Give me like 20 minutes or so to wake up and get some food in me." Max sighed on his end of the line.

"Ok the front door will be unlocked so just come in." Justin said and hung up.

with operation:show my brother baby butt off underway, Justin went off to go and wake up dad.

With dad being his normal cheery morning self (read: grumpy as fuck) Alex did his best to stay out of his way while he made himself a bacon and egg sandwich then grabbed his tool box and was out the door.

"I wonder he even offered to help if he was just gonna be this grumpy?" Alex asked Justin.

"Because there's free beer involved after the deck is built and you know mom won't let him bring any booze into the house." Justin said, oddly keeping a eye on the time.

"heh, you missing mom already or something?" Alex teased.

"Oh no, Just arranged a little surprise for you." Justin said and smirked.

As he smirked Alex felt a pang of fear go though him, the old Justin was back and he went to scramble up to his feet to get get away.

"ah ah ah, come here huggie butt." Justin taunted and grabbed onto Alex, tugging him down and into Justin's lap, pressing on his tummy.

Which had the effect of making Alex let out a massive fart.

"Dude! really? what are you, part skunk?" Justin asked, shoving Alex back out of his lap.

"M-Maybe!" Alex said, his tummy gurgling now and as he went to get up he ended up hunching over, anther fart coming out of him.

"Heh, Uh-oh, is widdle Alex gonna go poopie in his diapies?" Justin asked, smirking and getting up to block the path to the bathroom.

"J-Justin Nooo! I don't wanna poop my diapers again!" Alex whimper, hunched over and making his way over, yet anther fart coming out and that one was totally a wet one.

"Wait..ANTHER poopie diaper?" Justin asked, then it clicked. "Oh my god, you shit yourself in your sleep! Ahahaha! You really ARE a baby!"

"J-Justin Please! I'm begging you! Let me use the pot-" Alex started but then there was the sound of the front door opening and Alex was cut off by Max's voice.

"Allo allo! whats going..uh..on.." Max said, walking into view and looking at Alex in shock. "Uhhh.."

"M-Max!?! what are you doing here?!? I Uh..Oh god, Max don't loook!" Alex wailed.

Max was too shocked to look away though as Alex lost the battle with his bowels and the back of his diaper ballooned out as wave as wave of mush filled it, making the spider-man designs fade away and the formally white parts of the diaper go a ugly shade of brown.

With the back of the diaper being destroyed the front didn't get off easy either as Alex's bladder apparently didn't wanna be left out and he soaked the diaper even as he sank to his knees.

Balls up fists coming to his eyes and rubbing them as he started to bawl, Alex almost but not quite drowned out Max's million dollar question.

"Uhhh..what's going on here?"

The living room was filled with Alex's stink, but it was the smell of victory to Justin as he took in the scene with a sick joy. Alex was too busy bawling like the big baby he was to try and defend himself so Justin spoke up.

"Sorry about this Max, I tried to get baby Alex to cover up his diapers but he said he wanted you to see what a big baby he is an-" Justin started, but was cut off.

"Yeah, Bullshit. What's really going on here, Alex, did Justin make you wear a diaper?" Max asked, wincing as he moved over to comfort his friend.

'damn it! was hoping he'd fall for that. ah well, can't win'em all.' Justin thought.

Alex was still full on bawling though, and was just finishing up his dump and the diaper had amazingly held up.

"Alex..Alex buddy it's ok.. everyone has accidents." Max was saying and Justin rolled his eyes at that.

'just my luck, most boys his age would of started tormenting the fuck out of a pamper packer and I get the kind and understanding one.' Justin fumed.

"He's in all day diapers today because he went to sleep without putting one of his bed wetter pants on yesterday and wet the bed." Justin sighed. "And apparently if he's to believed he woke up stinky too."

"...Alex is this true?" Max asked.

Alex hiccuped and sniffled, calming down slightly now but he nodded.

"So..you knew his diapers were gonna be on display and invited me over..dude, your a asshole." Max said and glared at Justin.

"eh, Guilty as charged. but if you care soooo much about widdle Alex then you can get him cleaned up. Otherwise I'm gonna leave him to sit and stink." Justin said and shrugged, turning to leave.

"Sheesh.. brother of the year aren't you.. Where's his diapers?" Max asked helping Alex stand up and rubbing the poor guys back.

"In our room, I'll toss out what's left of them." Justin said then walked off leaving the stinky diaper boy and his little buddy to clean up.

For the second time this morning, Alex found himself doing a dirty diaper cowboy walk and heading for the bathroom, whimpering and saying sorry to Max over and over again.

"Hey, it's OK dude.. I should of known your brother was planning something when he invited me over. But Uh, I've known about your bed wetting for awhile." Max said, giving a sheepish grin.

"N-No you didn't, I'm super careful!" Alex whimpered.

they made it to the bathroom and Max had Alex stand with his legs spread and the trash bin in the bathroom under him as he undid the tapes and let the diaper plop down into the trashcan.

"yeahhh well about that.. you remember three weeks ago when we were playing Avengers in your room? you pack of Iron man diapers was sticking out from under your bed. When you weren't looking i pushed them back under with my foot." Max admitted, even as his face wrinkled in disgust.

"I..but..Noooo!" Alex whined babyishly.

Somehow this didn't change facts though.

"Look, we'll talk about it in a bit, you go and get in the shower, I'll go and get rid of the 'treasure'" Max said.

With no real choice in the matter, Alex nodded and made his way into the shower to go and get cleaned up.

'Pretty sad my best friend is more mature about this then my own brother..and Justin..your gonna pay!' Alex swore as he started the water.

After taking the plastic bag and putting it in the trash can outside, Max came back in and after opening some windows to air out the living room he made his way upstairs.Hearing the shower still running and found a pack of diaper with only two in it out front of the bathroom door.

the door to Justin and Alex's room was closed but since it didn't have a lock Max barged in anyways, finding Justin laying on his bed and reading a comic book.

"Can i help you?" Justin asked, a smirk on his face.

"That was a really shitty thing you just did to Alex, you know that right?" Max asked, hands on his hips.

"Cute choice of words there, and yeah, I'm a asshole and proud of it." Justin said.

"Yeah, well I'm gonna tell your parents what you did when they get back." Max shot back.

"Oh, cute idea. Let's tell them how Alex went and crapped his diapers when he has potty privileges and make it so he has to wear to school tomorrow. Of course I'll get grounded for inviting you over and showing off his diapers but who's really gonna come out on the short end of the deal here?" Justin asked.

Max blinked and tried to come up for a counter to that but just huffed and pouted.

"That's what I thought. If Mom asks when she gets back, Alex invited you over. I'll keep hush about the poopie diaper if you two little dweebs keep me out of trouble, deal?" Justin asked, going back to his comic book, clearly knowing he had the upper hand.

"..God your SUCH a asshole!" Max huffed and then stormed out.

Alex got out of the shower on his own and got himself diapered, then went and got a t-shirt (Hulk this time for the little avengers obsessed nerd) and a pair of black short's on over it before retreating down to the living room with Max, whining as Max told him about the deal Justin had offered.

"I don't know..he was suppose to shut up about the wet bed yesterday too and went back on it..and uh.. where did you put the..you know.." Alex asked huffing and squirming.

"Uh, out in the trash can on the side of the house. why?" Max asked.

"Because it's gonna be stinking up the block in no time and I'll get busted again for sure!" Alex whined.

"Well uh.. It's not like we can just go and ditch it in someone else's trash can you know." Max pointed out, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hmmm.." Alex said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully then snapped his fingers. "Hey! you know that old nature trail by here? the one that's hardly used anymore?"

"..Yesssss though I don't think I like where this is going." Max said.

"We'll take the stinky diaper and shovel out there, and bury it! by the time the trails popular again in the summer, no one will be able to smell it!" Alex said, beaming at his brilliant idea.

So excited with his 'brilliant plan' was he, that Alex actually started out of the room to head for the back yard to go and get the shovel.

"Alex, one second. You mighttttt wanna change into something baggier and with longer legs on it, those short's aren't really hiding your diaper butt." Max said with a small smirk.

Looking down and then looking at himself in a mirror Alex could see Max was right and gave a sheepish smile.

"Oh..yeah.. good call!" He said and then went to his dresser to find something a little more concealing.

Justin had of course by this time headed down stairs, not wanting to deal with Alex's 'toddler whining' ad he put it, and was playing a video game and drinking one of Alex's can's of soda since he had gone though his three.

Looking over as the pair went to go and get their shoes on he raised a eyebrow.

"And where are you two dweebs heading off too?" He asked then chuckled. "Awww, Is Max taking widdle Alex to da park ta pway?"

Alex growled but before he could speak up Max cut him off.

"Actually we're just gonna go and play on the old trail, go and dig some holes and the like. I figured that way if Alex has anther accident you won't have to smell it right away."

"Pffftt good thinking! did you pack a diaper bag for him then, hence the book bag?" Justin chuckled.

of course he couldn't of known that the pack pack was for holding the stinky diaper once they got it out of the trash, though he really didn't care anyways.

Alex meanwhile was blushing big time and huffing like a pouty toddler.

"Ayup, though hopefully it'll just be a wet diaper." Max said.

"pffft, ok. just be back soonish, Mom will wanna know where you are." Justin said and went back to his game.

Once they were outside Alex gave max a semi hard punch to the arm.

"what the heck was that all about! you sounded like you were on his side!" Alex huffed and glared.

"Uh, OW! and we didn't want him to know what we're really doing did we?" Max asked and then swatted Alex's padded backside, making a whumping sound.

"...You didn't have to be so believable." Alex huffed.

"oh I'm sorry, did you want him following us? knowing him he'd of tugged your pants off once you were on the trail and tossed them in a tree!" Max shot back.

the thought of being trapped in public with his diaper exposed made Alex blush and squirm, and let out a muffled fart of fear.

"Ah.. do you need, to go back inside and sit on the potty?" Max asked.

"NO!" Alex growled, then paused, and looked thoughtful and wiggled his butt a little, making Max have to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Yeah no, I'm good." Alex confirmed a few seconds later.

The adventure out to bury the treasure so to speak was uneventful, much as Alex had predicted the trail was dead this time of the year and the only hard part was digging into the semi solid earth, the shovel being almost too big for the either shorty to really use it so they had to take turns.

Coming back they were greeted in the driveway by Anne who was less then pleased to see Alex not only outside when she was still concerned he was sick, but that he was all dirty from playing in the dirt.

At least it worked out that she'd been home for about five minutes by that time so she'd already taken his new pack of diapers (Avengers print this time) to his room but still she gave Alex a mild scolding and sent Max home.

After that it was a day of just lazing around the house but Anne had also insisted on keeping a close eye on Alex so he hadn't been able to get enough alone time to e-mail Ben.

[nicka-nell]

Heey ^__^ could I get Oikawa and Sakusa for your event? Oikawa angst to fluff with 17 and 58 so they have a fight and s/o dreams bad and he comforts his s/o? And Sakusa break-up to make-up with 6 and 21 and fluff at the end? Thank you and I hope your event goes well <3

Bad dream (Oikawa x reader) Break-up to make-up (Sakusa x reader)

Hi! I’m so so so sorry that I answer you so late! But I was busy with the move in my new house the whole time, and I had no time to write. :(( I hope that’s okay and that you’re not mad or angry or anything else.  So here we go! 

Valentine’s Day - Prompt Event | Masterlist (coming soon)

Pairing: Oikawa x reader (Bad dream) Warning: angst to fluff, mention of cheating  Prompts:  17. “Shh, it’s okay. It was just a dream.” 58. “I didn’t mean the things I said.”

Many people, handsome men and women in expensive suits and dresses. People laugh, talk about every new gossip, and you feel completely out of place with your simple dress. It is your favorite one, a dress you had bought for a wedding and now always wear on special occasions. It flatters your body, yet it’s a simple dress. One from a regular store, for a normal Price and not a brand dress, with crystals, beads sewn by hand or other elaborate stuff.

They invited Oikawa to a gala. One to which all successful people appear, but unfortunately you no longer know anyone. All have already gone home.

Intimidated you sit at the table, looking over at the cluster of women that had formed around a certain person. Your boyfriend. Oikawa always liked to be admired by everyone, so it’s no wonder that he feels comfortable with the women who would like to scratch out each other’s eyes just to get to Oikawa.

It offends you that he pays little attention to you today, only takes photos with all the other women. Oikawa avoids photos together with you and even forbade the photographer to photograph you. You wonder why he invited you in the first place, why he even wanted you with him if he didn’t want you by his side anyway.

One woman has been talking to him for a long time, exchanging loving looks, looks that Oikawa usually only throws at you. Or are you imagining all this in your current state? Whether or not you imagine it, you no longer want to look at them.

You know Oikawa isn’t paying any attention to you right now, get up without a word, and quietly find your way out, past the bodyguards standing at the entrance, as they point out to you that you won’t get back inside without an admission card. But you don’t even want that.

With a big lump in your throat, your feet carry you through the frosty night. Along the dark alleys you both drove with Oikawa’s car a few hours ago. Your body is getting cold, already shaking, but the bitter pain in your heart makes you forget all about it.

Obsessively, you’re trying to think of something else, not what Oikawa is doing to that woman right now. “Y/n! Wait!” Makes you a voice twitch. 

How many times had this woman told him about her success in her modeling career? What was her name again? He obviously doesn’t remember. Oikawa’s eyes silently follow her lips as they move when she looks at him. Did she ask him a question? Damn it…

He wasn’t listening to her. “Hah, you’re hilarious, you know that?” Oikawa smiles, hoping she hadn’t asked him something. But apparently she didn’t, because she just puts her fingers to his chest with a smile, stroll her tongue over her lips before she stands on her tiptoes and approaches Oikawa’s ear.

“You know, we can continue our conversation somewhere else. My hotel isn’t far from here.” She breathes seductively at him, but Oikawa pushes her away, irritated. What the… Without really going into it further, he goes out of the group to go to the table where he was far too rarely today.

On the way there, he takes two glasses from one of the servers who walks through the room with a tray full of champagne glasses to approach the table where you are, with a smile on his face. Where you should be.

Because when Oikawa arrives, there’s no one. The place is empty, your bag is missing. There’s no one at the entrance. He can nowhere find you. A bad feeling spreads in him. Worry that something happened to you, but also anger, that you just left without telling him anything.

How does he look like now? Surrounded by women, but he can’t hold his own one, the woman he loves. His gaze is dark when he asks one of the men at the door if they saw you. But they stay calm. Just tell him that you left the building a few minutes ago.

Oikawa doesn’t let the man finish his sentence, almost jumps out of the automatically opening door. It increases his pulse as he looks in all directions, looks for your silhouette, but does not find you. 

Oikawa’s sports car is still right where he parked it. Sure… Because how could you drive the car if he had the keys? His head thinks about where you could have been now, but his legs are already moving, knowing exactly where you want to go. Where you feel safe and secure. At your home.

His pace keeps getting faster, so fast, he’s almost running, hoping to catch up with you soon. Hoping nothing happened to you in the alleys in the dark. And there he sees you, arms wrapped around your body, the footstep heavy and slow.

“Y/n! Wait!” Shouts Oikawa’s voice as you turn around and look in his direction. He quickly caught up with you, but wishes he hadn’t. Because every step he takes toward you, he sees your sparkling eyes. How they glisten through your tears, reddened as your body trembles.

“Y/n…” He pronounces your name in such a fragile tone as his hands approach you, gently laying on your shoulders. They are freezing cold. He didn’t notice it because of your tears, but now that he’s looking more closely, he sees that your lips no longer have their natural color, that your teeth are clattering.

“Let go of me, Oikawa!” You sniff tormented, pull yourself out of his grip and knock his hands off you. Oikawa… A punch in his face. A blow to his heart. When was the last time he heard his last name coming out of your mouth? Maybe in high school.

“What… Why did you run away Y/n? You made me look like an idiot! And now you’re standing here, shaking and rejecting me while you’re crying? What’s wrong with you?” But he does not finish his last sentence when you interrupt his words so quickly.

“YOU look like an idiot? I stood there like an idiot! Sat there like a gray mouse in the corner while you were chatting with the women! The whole time you let yourself be photographed with them, wanted to avoid all photos with me! Why did you invite me if you didn’t want me there? Why did you flirt with this woman? Why are you doing this?! If you wanted to break up, you could have just told me instead of kicking me in the dirt! Oikawa, go!” 

You yell at him, punch him in the chest before looking at him with hateful eyes. He does not understand your words, does not understand why you are angry, but it offends him to know that you seem to trust him so little. He hadn’t flirted with that woman. So why do you see it like that? Why can’t you see what was behind all this? “I was just trying to protect you!” 

“Protect me? From what? From you? You wanted to show me that until now you only flirted with the women at the events, maybe even fucked them?” You are full of anger, full of rage, no longer aware of your own words that leave your mouth indignantly. Which hurt him.

Because he loves you, always loved you. In all those years you’ve been together, he’s always tried to treat you like his queen. Because he’s the king, and you are his wife. So how could you possibly think he was cheating on you? How can you portray him as a person after all he’s done for you?

“You really think I’d sleep with any of these women? Do you really believe that, Y/n? I can’t believe it…” he shouts at you in horror, doesn’t notice how he steps back and looks at you coldly. 

“You know, maybe I should really go back, really flirt with that annoying chick and get in bed with her. If that’s what you think I am. A cheating boyfriend! I am curious how her breasts will feel in my hands, what her mouth can do and-” Even Oikawa forgets himself, not noticing how he hurts you more and more with every word.

How you shut your ears because you don’t want to hear all this. “Stop it! Stop it! Then go Oikawa! Go and don’t come back!” You call him before you turn around and start running. Run away from him as soon as possible.

You don’t know if he’s following you or going back to the gala, but you don’t care. You just want to go to your house. Get out of this dress, into your bed and under the warm blanket that gives you security.

Back at the gala, Oikawa’s eyes look out for the pretty woman who had been flirting with him an hour ago. It doesn’t take long before he finds her, walks up to her and asks if she wants to share a drink with him.

Seductively, she licks her lips, only nodding as she struts in front of him, wobbling her butt to present it in its best form. “What took you so long, pretty boy?” She asks him, her hand on his thigh, as she sits on the bar stool and waits for the waiter.

“I had an argument with my girlfriend, she was here, too. Well, now she’s not.” For a brief moment, there’s a spark of regret in his expression. A little of guilt as he lowers his head and looks at the hand on his lap, searching for its way to his belt.

“Your girlfriend? Didn’t see her. But good thing she’s not here anymore, what?” She winks at him, but Oikawa doesn’t answer her. Her false fingernails drill into the fabric of his pants, causing him to look into her face with too much make-up. “My room is just around the corner…” 

They exchange wild kisses as Oikawa pushes her against the wall of the hotel room, rips her dress off and begins to play with her breasts. He can hear her moan loudly, as well as the tearing of his shirt and the buttons jumping in all directions. “Shit, we should have done this a lot sooner.” Oikawa groans as he kisses her neck to her breasts.

“Did you hear? Y/n! Y/n!” Your vision becomes unclear, inconsistencies slowly form now that you hear his voice twice. Now that you feel a grip on your shoulders rocking your body. “Y/n!” The voice becomes clearer. The images you had before your eyes become more unclear, disappear.

Instead, you are in your bedroom. The dimmed light of the bedside lamp illuminates the room and surrounds Oikawa’s worried face. You don’t notice your tears running down your cheeks. You don’t notice Oikawa pushing you into his arms. 

It still confuses you. “Shh, it’s okay. It was just a dream.” he tries to calm you down without even knowing what you have dreamed. “Oi… Oikawa?” Your voice trembles at his skin, as does your body. “Please, please don’t call me by my last name. You know I love you and I don’t like it when you don’t call me by my name.” 

His hand gently strokes your hair, his scent flows through your nose, calms you somehow. “But you were… with her…” You sniff, murmur your words indistinctly. Oikawa didn’t understand all your words, but he can imagine what you said.

“Y/n… I wasn’t with a woman. Just with you, right here, right now. What you saw was all just a dream, none of it happened.” Oikawa’s voice lies like a pleasant veil on your skin, calming you with every word as he embraces your face with his hands and makes you look into his chestnut brown eyes. Looking at you with love. “But… you said…” 

“I didn’t mean the things I said. I don’t know what happened, I was mad. I was mad because you just walked away because you had portrayed me as a cheater even though I love you with everything I have. You know, Y/n, I want you to be there. I always want you by my side. But I also want to protect you from the media. I don’t want people following you. That you become a prey just because you’re the girlfriend of a successful volleyball player. I want your beautiful smile all to myself. And this woman, she… I don’t even know what she said. She was just annoying. I know all this doesn’t excuse what I said, and I’m sorry I didn’t think about your feelings when I dragged you to the gala. I thought you’d be there-”

Your lips seal his words before he can finish them. Tightly your lips press against each other, almost painfully, while you want to show each other that you are sorry. You didn’t know Oikawa was trying to protect you from the media, but you’re grateful to him.

“I’m sorry I said all those ugly things to you, Tooru.” You breath in between all your kisses as he presses your body to his, while his hands drive over your back full of desire. “I’m sorry I said all those things too. About you, about that woman… I’m sorry Y/n. Please forgive me, my beautiful queen.” His words are so honest, so pure, yet so vulnerable.

“Yes… Yes, I forgive you, my king.”

Pairing: Sakusa x reader (break up to make up) Warning: angst to fluff, Prompts: 6. I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.” 21. You come here often?”

It’s been three years since you’ve gone your own way. Three years trying to enjoy the places you had previously spent with Sakusa. He had broken up with you, felt like it would be better to go separate ways.

He wouldn’t be able to make you happy if he was just at his training all the time, traveling the world with the Japanese national team and focusing only on his career. But he didn’t pay attention to your feelings. That you loved him, had always loved him, and had always supported him.

It hurt you that he didn’t want to take this step with you, that he let you go even though you had begged him to stay. To save your relationship and look to your future together.

Three years have passed since you tried to forget him. But no matter where you go, no matter who you spend your day with, you always had to think of Sakusa. You always had to think about your relationship, the tenderness and the touches of the past. Sakusa did not like physical contact with others, but you were an exception. He loved to hold you in his arms as you sat on your couch together; you read your favorite book and he listened to you quietly. Taking a bath with you and watching a sequel to your favorite show. Or to go for a walk with you.

But now everything is different. While Sakusa is successful and shines in the spotlight, you try to distract yourself with miserable dates. Except none of these men are like him. No one was interesting. 

Three months ago, you took your friends’ advice, stopped dating, and focused on you instead. You feel like it helped you, because slowly, you started thinking less about Sakusa. Less of your time together. Started to forget about him.

You don’t know why, but today it drives you into the forest, into the little hut on the mountain where you were with Sakusa. You forgot your worries and only enjoyed the beautiful view. Still you like going there, only you don’t think of him anymore, but of the nature that surrounds you, the animals that are on the trees and the ground, until you arrive at the hut.

You have a thin smile on your lips as you walk around the hut to sit on the edge of the small cliff. You bend your legs up to your chest, sit there, watch the sun go down and let the fine spring breeze tickle your skin.

“You come here often?” 

He hasn’t been here for a long time, to be exact. The last time he went this way was just over three years ago. Three years ago, where he probably made the stupidest mistake of his life. Because he had let go of his luck for the career he had always wanted.

He thought it was best for both of you. He thought he was doing all this just for you. So why did it feel so wrong?

Why could he never forget you all this time, why did his heart hurt every time the journalists asked him if there was already a lady of heart in his life? Why did he still have a picture of you two as a background? Why was the cheesy keyring you gave him for fun on Valentine’s Day still hanging on his keyring? After all this time, why did his legs carry him to the one place he loved most after your home?

The sun almost went down when Sakusa arrived at the hut where he used to be with you. In front of the hut is a large rock with a notch that looks as if someone had cut a hoof into it. In your little hiking book he had read that there is a little legend about this, a fairy tale, in that a prince with his horse had taken so much power and energy to jump over the cliff to his princess, that the horse had left an imprint in the rock.

Sakusa still remembers well how you smiled at him when he had read this saga in high concentration. A bittersweet smile spreads on his lips as his fingers touch the rock before he approaches the small hut.

But strangely enough, his legs don’t carry him into it, but around it, as if he wants to watch the last bit of the sunset. But it’s not like that. As Sakusa goes around to get to the small cliff where he has sat so often, his heart beats faster.

He briefly thinks of just turning around, walking, but his words leave his lips even before he can think. “You come here often?” 

Your heart races, painfully contracts with the sound of this voice. You are considering whether it might not have been your imagination, but you are hearing steps that are getting closer and closer to your form.

Hesitantly you look to the side, up to the face, what you had seen the last time three years ago in real life. Not only on a screen. “Ki… yoomi?” Confused, you look at the black-haired man in front of you, who looks down with embarrassment, his hands in his trouser pockets, before looking at the sky. To the mountains where the sun hides.

“Can… I sit down?” He sounds like he doesn’t know what to say, what to do. But you don’t give him an answer, just turn away from him and look forward again. “This is a free place, I can’t forbid you to sit here.” Although his words had a hint of irony, yours are serious.

Your arms clasp your legs tighter as you perceive his scent after he sits down. How you feel his warmth, as his shoulder brushes yours. For a long time you remain silent, say nothing, do not know how to erase this painful silence.

You don’t know why your body goes crazy, why everything hurts again, why his presence makes you fight with your own tears, even though you were so sure you almost forgot about him.

“Y/n... it was my biggest mistake to do all this to you, even though I loved you… Even though I love you.” Delayed, he pronounces his last sentence quietly so that you hardly understand him. But it was crystal clear in your ears. They make your tears flow down your cheeks, drive your emotions crazy.

“I thought I was doing this for us… I thought it would be best for you. You should be happy. But… But instead, I ruined everything. I let go of the woman who was my sun in my darkness. I loved you more than anyone else. I love you more th-” Sakusa’s words are honest, calm as he utters them, but you interrupt them with a shrill cry.

“Stop it! I don’t want to hear another word! Do you know how bad that was for me? Do you know how much you hurt me? Damn Kiyoomi, I loved you! It took me almost the whole three years to even process that you had left me! And I was so close! So close to finally forget about you! But what are you doing? You come here and slap your apology in my face like all this happened yesterday, for what? What do you want from me, Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

Your voice is loud, yet fragile in his ears, now your words hurt him like a thousand stabs. He did everything wrong. He had made you unhappy. But why does it hurt him the most that you almost forgot him? He had to think of you at any time, not even in a dream, to erase you from his memories.

The time passed, the sky turned almost black. He doesn’t see your tears, but he hears your trembling voice fighting your sniffing. Your voice continues to pounce on him, you tell him louder and louder how much he hurt you and at no time does he try to interrupt you.

But you become silent, and he speaks. “Y/n? Do you still love me?” he asks seriously, trying to sound as calm as possible, even though he is afraid of your answer. “Damn it, Kiyoomi…” You breathe now that you can’t hold back your sniffing. 

How can this one question put you back in the time of three years ago? Make you realize you still love him? But you don’t tell him. You just sense how his body moves. A draft of wind tells you that he is thinking of taking you in his arms, but the warmth that was on your body for a moment disappears as if he had changed his mind.

Even though you’re still mad at him, even though you’ve been trying to forget him all along, it doesn’t feel right to sit next to each other in silence. But you don’t want to forgive him so he can hurt you again.

“I never stopped loving you Y/n. But I can understand if you don’t feel that way anymore. I’m really sorry if I interrupt you by forgetting about me… It’s stubborn of me to tell you I want the time back where I would have just kissed you now, where we would have gone home together, laughed and cried.” 

With his words, everything in you constricts even more tightly, your loud beating heart becomes heavier when you straighten up and look for your mobile phone in your pocket to find your way home in the dark. 

“You’re right, it’s stubborn.” Your sad voice only sounds softly as you turn on the light to leave, but Sakusa’s hand pushes yours down. Your belly tingles as you feel his other hand on your shoulder, his body only half a step away from yours.

“I know I’m not in a position to ask, but if you really want to go now… I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home… Just one last time. Please.” You hear he is serious, that he too is struggling to keep his voice strong.

You know full well that if he accompanies you now, you will never forget him. That your feelings will come back again and that you want nothing more than to feel him on your body, to feel his love. But instead of refusing, other words leave your mouth.

“I can’t stop you from going back with me, can I?” You laugh sadly, but Sakusa doesn’t answer you. He just takes your phone from your hand to hold it forward, so he can brighten the way.

None of you dare say anything to look at the other or touch them. Yet you both search for the warmth. Once on the road, he turns off your cell phone flashlight, gives it to you again before he quickly looks ahead.

You, too, just look into his dark eyes for a moment before your gaze wanders off. Again you are silent. But this time you dare to catch a glimpse, to peek at him, when you notice that his hand, which is usually always in his jacket pocket, now dangles freely at his side.

He used to do that back then. That’s the way he was trying to show you that he was okay with you holding his hand. You’re wondering if all this is just a coincidence, or if he’s doing it on purpose. But your body acts against the fear that rages in you.

Yet your hand approaches his, your fingertips playfully touch his hand before you feel Sakusa’s grip on them. With glowing cheeks you turn your head to the side, do not notice how Sakusa looks at you in astonishment as a slim smile adorns his lips.

He’d like to tell you so much, but he doesn’t know how to start. For a while he thinks about his words, but then you stop, study him with your big eyes, a mixture of fear, pain and hope draws your face.

He notices how the quick moment of hope he had, that everything will be back to normal, is getting smaller. The fear spreads over him. “Kiyoomi? Promise me you won’t hurt me again this time...” He didn’t expect these words. With the words that shatter all his sorrow in one blow, make his belly tingle, make his heart race.

At an incredible speed, he clears the gap between you, letting go of your hand to embrace your face with both hands. His raven-black eyes are powerful, leaving you speechless. “Never. Never, I’ll make you unhappy again. So please, please give me this last chance”, he whispers throaty, his voice weakens when you nod hesitantly, and only a blink later his lips lie on your forehead. 

This time, he won’t hurt you again.

[pitch-pearl-void]

A pebble struck Danny's shoulder and he yelped, crashing into Tucker. The two exhausted boys collapsed on the track field. Several of their classmates ran around them, laughing and hurling insults as they passed. One leapt over them, nearly clocking Danny in the head with her foot. 

Danny growled and snatched up the pebble, but before he could throw it back at his classmates, the pebble jerked out of his hand. Frustrated, he looked around for a new one, but movement drew his eyes back to the original pebble as it rolled across the bare earth of the track. Danny's eyes widened. 

Tucker pushed Danny off his chest. "I know being clumsy is sort of your thing, but--"

"Tucker!" Danny scrambled to his knees, grabbed his friend's shoulder and pointed at the pebble. He didn't need to say anything else. The dim green glow surrounding the pebble said enough. 

It was rolling toward the bleachers.

Danny struggled to his feet and chased after it without another word. Tucker followed, though he had plenty of words such as you know not every ghost is friendly like your boyfriend, right? and you know luring targets to a secondary location is kidnapping 101, right? and do we have to run?

Phantom (because of course it was Phantom; he would never allow another ghost to come within miles of the school) smiled up at Danny as soon as he rounded the bleachers. Phantom had tucked himself into the shadows instead of turning himself invisible, but his glow kept him from truly being obscured. If it hadn't been such a bright, sunny day, Danny would have spotted his glow far sooner--as would all the other kids.

The pebble leapt into Phantom's waiting palm, the green energy around both disappearing upon contact. "Sorry," Phantom said, his voice raspy, the word barely distinct. "Had to...get...your attention...somehow."

Bright green ectoplasm saturated the dirt around him. 

Danny gasped, "Phantom!" and then banged his head against a metal footrest. He yelped. Tucker actually reached Phantom first, dropping to his hands and knees and crawling forward. Danny quickly followed his example. 

"Skulker," Phantom croaked by way of explanation.

"Hey, man, maybe you shouldn't talk right now," Tucker said gently as he stopped beside Phantom's legs.

Danny ignored the ectoplasm on the ground--the cold tingle as his knees entered the puddle, the way it soaked into his gym shorts--and crawled up to Phantom's side. Dutifully and without needing to be asked, Phantom rolled off his elbow and onto his back, stretching out so Danny and Tucker could see the damage. 

The most obvious and eye-catching was a slash along his side. Most of the ectoplasm was leaking from there, although Phantom's hand obscured most of the wound. Ectoplasm didn't bleed like blood--it was too thick and wasn't pumped through the body--so to create a puddle like the one Danny was crouched in, Phantom must have been waiting there a while. 

Danny swallowed. Waiting for Tuck and me to finally reach the bleachers...

If they weren't such slow runners they would have completed the lap sooner, they would have reached the bleachers sooner, and Phantom wouldn't have needed to suffer as long.

Danny guiltily allowed his gaze to move upward, intent on looking Phantom in the eyes, but he stopped at Phantom's throat. It was shaped oddly. And discolored. Gently, slowly, he reached forward and lightly touched just below Phantom's jaw.

"He crushed your windpipe?" Danny asked in a whisper.

He lifted his eyes to find Phantom watching him. "It's...healing," Phantom rasped. 

"Definitely don't want to talk, dude," Tucker said, sounding as stressed as Danny. "We'll get you patched up in no time."

Phantom pinched his eyes shut. "Please. Hurts."

Danny bit his lip. He lifted his hand to Phantom's face and gently brushed his white hair aside. Phantom didn't say anything more or open his eyes, but he turned his head, pressing into Danny's touch.

"Sorry we took so long," Danny said, his voice shaking. 

"Yeah," Tucker said, equally guilt-ridden, "maybe you should have tried getting Sam's attention."

"Tried." Phantom's lips twitched. "Too fast. Missed."

Tucker forced a laugh. "Oh, I get it. You could only catch us slowpokes."

"Yes."

Danny turned to Tucker. "Go find Sam and tell her we need the ghost medkit. And get my backpack from my locker in the locker room--I stowed some of those pain blockers Frostbite gave us in there."

Tucker nodded. He grabbed Phantom's hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Hang in there, ghost-dude." 

Phantom forced his eyes open and flashed Tucker a grin. 

Tucker patted his hand before crawling out from beneath the bleachers and charging onto the track field. Danny watched him go through the gaps in the bleachers. They were close to the school doors and the finish line, which was likely where Sam was waiting for them, so fortunately Tucker didn't look too conspicuous running in a direction opposite to everyone else. He could probably claim he needed to use the bathroom. 

Unfortunately, whether they had noticed Tucker leaving the bleachers or noticed Danny and him heading toward them earlier, Dash and several of his football teammates were looking and pointing in Danny's direction. He cringed and ducked down. They were still pretty far away (they had yet to cross the finish line) but given how fast Danny knew they could run, it was only a matter of time before they arrived to investigate. 

"What?" Phantom croaked. 

"Dash is looking this way." Danny glanced down at Phantom. For all that Phantom was staring up at him, it looked as though he was struggling to keep his eyes open. His gaze, usually so intense, particularly when staring at Danny, lacked the kind of focus Danny was used to. He ran his fingers through Phantom's hair. "It's probably nothing," he said, forcing a smile. "You can rest."

Phantom's eyes slipped closed without argument. "If he...hurts you...I'll kick his...butt."

"Uh-huh," Danny said doubtfully. "Maybe once you're better." He chewed on his lip, looking down at Phantom's wounds. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" There wasn't much he could do without supplies...

Phantom leaned his head back, encouraging Danny to continue stroking his fingers through his hair. 

Danny smiled. He brushed the white hair off Phantom's forehead and leaned down to kiss just below his hairline. As he sat back again, he saw Phantom smiling as well. Shadows passed in front of the bleachers, and Danny bit his lip.

Phantom forced his eyes open. "Danny?"

Danny stroked Phantom's hair until those green eyes closed once more. "We're about to get some extra help, that's all."

Phantom frowned. "Only one...I need."

"Yeah, well--"

"Hey, Fentina, what are you and the techno-geek hiding under--"

Dash's voice cut off in a gasp, echoed by several others. Danny pinched his eyes shut and cringed. 

"Danny Phantom!"

"Holy shit, it's really him."

"What's all that green stuff?"

"Oh my god, is that ghost blood?"

A large hand grabbed Danny's shoulder and shoved him to the side, throwing him into the dirt. "Out of the way, Fen-Freak, we have to get him out of here!"

"No!" Danny scrambled onto his knees again and grabbed Dash's arm. "Ghosts need privacy when they're wounded, you can't--"

Dash used the arm Danny was holding to throw him backward. Other hands--Kwan's, he thought--caught him before he could fall into the dirt again. "Get him out of here!" Dash ordered.

Thrown off balance without his legs under him, Kwan easily dragged Danny away from Phantom. He fought, wiggling in Kwan's grasp, trying to free his arms. "I had it under control!" he shouted, frustrated. "You don't need to do this!"

"Yeah right," Kwan said sarcastically, "just let us handle this, Fenton. We've actually dealt with injuries before."

Danny watched, dismayed, as Dash scooped Phantom into his arms. The ghost was wincing in pain, teeth visibly gritted, but soon there were too many jocks between them to see what was happening. 

Someone outside the bleachers shouted, "It's Phantom! He's hurt!" a call that was swiftly picked up by others. 

Sunlight fell on Danny as they passed from beneath the bleachers. "He's not some football player," he objected to Kwan's previous comment, "he's a ghost. You don't--"

Kwan threw Danny onto the ground. He landed on his front, air woofing from his lungs and sending a puff of dirt to float in front of his face. 

"He's a person," Kwan snapped before charging back under the bleachers.

Danny pushed himself onto his knees, coughed, and patted dirt from his gym shirt. "Gee," he muttered darkly to himself, "I hadn't noticed. I'm only dating him..."

He climbed to his feet and turned to face the bleachers. Some of the jocks were pouring out again, and a moment later, Dash carried Phantom out into the sunlight. Phantom was still grimacing, one eye tightly pinched shut, but the remaining eye searched the surrounding humans. When it finally landed on Danny, Phantom's eyes and forehead visibly relaxed, though his jaw remained clenched. 

Danny ran forward. Another jock, Brad, stopped him before he could reach Phantom and shoved him back. "Back off!" he shouted.

Danny stumbled backward, tripped over his heel, and fell to the ground again. Phantom opened his mouth--he seemed to be saying something, but either no one heard his butchered voice over the noise they were making or they ignored whatever he was saying. 

Danny stood up, but the crowd grew between them, bolstered by those that were leaving the track. Soon it was no longer only Dash and his football friends crowding around Phantom but half their class. Worse, Dash's friends were building a wall around Phantom, forcing the crowd to move back as Dash carried Phantom forward. 

Danny, the resident loser on the field, quickly found himself shoved farther and farther away from Phantom. 

"Is he okay?"

"What happened?"

"Is he bleeding?"

"Oh my god, oh my god, what do we do?"

"Phantom!"

"Put me down!"

Danny sucked in a breath. For all that the voice sounded like it had been scraped by rocks, it was unmistakably Phantom's. "He shouldn't be yelling," Danny muttered anxiously to himself. "Oh hell, he shouldn't yell..."

Whether he was fit enough to raise his voice, however, Phantom had succeeded in halting the crowd. Danny jumped a few times, trying to see over his classmates. The crowd wasn't moving anymore, so Dash must have stopped. Danny thought he saw Dash kneeling on the ground--obeying Phantom's wishes--but it was difficult to tell with so many people between them. 

Danny gritted his teeth. "Right," he muttered. "Time to get obnoxious, Fenton. Make them listen." He raised his voice and shouted, "Excuse me, I actually know how ghosts work!" He began shoving between his classmates, forcing his way through. "I can help him!" He squeezed between Mikey and a cheerleader and then around Kevin. "This isn't how you help ghosts!" 

Brad grabbed Danny's arm before he could go farther, halting him at the jock wall. Danny leaned to the side and peered through the gap between Brad and Russel. Phantom had been set on the ground and Dash and Kwan were pressing what looked like someone's gym shirt against the wound, trying to stem bleeding that would have been little more than a trickle if they had only left Phantom under the bleachers instead of making a spectacle of him. 

Paulina knelt by Phantom and was pulling his head and shoulders onto her lap, tears overflowing her eyes. Danny would never have dared, given Phantom's injured throat, but Phantom seemed oblivious to the angle Paulina was forcing on him just as he was oblivious to the boys pressing on his wound. Instead, Phantom had both hands clasped over his ears. 

His grimace revealed sharpened canines.

Danny sucked in a breath. Phantom often complained human emotions were too "loud" when they got upset. Danny didn't fully understand, but he would be willing to bet a group of exhausted teenagers worrying over their fallen hero counted as more than a little "loud". What kind of mental state that would push Phantom into when he was already weak and injured... 

"Dash!" Danny shouted. Dash ignored him. "Dash!"

Dash's head shot up and he glared at Danny. 

"You have to get everyone away from him!" Danny shouted, undaunted as Brad squeezed his arm in warning. "With his wound and everyone around him like this, you're going to throw him into an instinctive state. He's--"

"Did your parents teach you that, Fenton?"

Danny froze. That didn't sound like the usual belittling tone Dash used on him. Dash actually sounded angry.

"How do we know your parents weren't the ones who did this to him?" Kwan added.

"Wha--" Danny's word cut off in a hiss as Brad's grip turned suddenly, painfully tight. 

The crowd, perhaps sensing the accusation, grew quieter. One by one, faces turned toward Danny. 

Dash leapt to his feet. Ectoplasm stained his fingers green. "Is that what happened, Fen-Freak?" He advanced toward Danny. Danny tried to step back, but where before Brad's hand had kept him from moving forward, now it stopped him from going anywhere. "Is that why you're the one that found him? Your parents tipped you off so you could collect their specimen?"

"No!" the word burst out of Danny's mouth with such force he actually recoiled. 

Unfortunately, Dash didn't listen and the crowd was beginning to mutter their own accusations. Danny only heard a few, most of which were directed at his parents for attacking Phantom on a near daily basis, but with Danny's parents nowhere in sight and adults besides, his classmates had set their sights on a more easily accessible target. 

Him. 

Danny tried and failed to take another step back. "Wait! That's not fair, I never--"

"He's friends with that mayor who hates Phantom too!" someone shouted. 

"I am not!" Danny objected, offended. He looked around, alarmed to see so many glaring at him, but he squared his shoulders. "Look," he said, "yeah, my parents are ghost hunters, but that just means I actually know what I'm talking about. More so than any of you. And I'm telling you, you all need to--"

A fist struck his cheek, the blow strong enough to wrench his head to the side. Danny cried out and would have fallen to the ground if Brad hadn't been holding onto his arm. As it was, Danny's legs gave out and his arm was wrenched painfully upward as he fell to his knees. 

A second later, his arm was released. 

Danny would have thought Brad intentionally let him go if someone hadn't screamed, had Paulina not shouted Phantom's name, had Dash not cried out in fear. 

Danny pressed a hand to his throbbing eye and scrambled to his feet. His classmates had thrown themselves apart before him, creating a clear path back to the bleachers. Why became clear as Danny's good eye fell on Phantom. For all that green glowing ectoplasm continued to flow from his wound, Phantom had grabbed Dash by his gym shirt and was pinning him to the bleachers. Several yards above ground. 

As Danny watched, shocked, Phantom pulled Dash toward himself and then slammed him against the bleachers again. "What did you do?" he roared, his voice deeper, the echo more resonant, distorting the words.

A cold wind blew across the grass, pulling at Danny's shirt. 

"Wh-wh-what?" Dash stuttered. 

"You hurt him!"

"No! I mean--it's--he's--"

"I heard his pain!" Even several yards away, Danny heard and felt the air vibrate as Phantom growled. The hair on his arms and neck stood on end. Something like a green aura flashed around Phantom. Several of his classmates backed away. "What. Did. You. Do."

Danny ran forward. Someone grabbed his arm, but he shook himself free. "Phantom!" he shouted up at the ghost as he neared. "Phantom, I'm fine!"

Phantom didn't move, but he stopped shouting. He was too high up for Danny to reach. He ran around to the front of the bleachers and began running up the stairs instead. 

"It was just a misunderstanding!" he continued. "Right Dash?"

"Uhhhhhh?!" Dash screamed uncertainly back at him.

"Say yes, you idiot!"

"Danny?" Phantom said, his deep voice sounding suddenly lost.

Danny finally reached the highest seat and looked over the side. As if sensing him there, Phantom tilted his head back and looked up at him. His eyes glowed a brilliant green, the whites of his scalera, his pupils, swallowed up in the bright shining light. 

Danny forced a shaky smile on his lips, fear for Phantom warring with a wholly inappropriate admiration. "Hey," he said softly. "See? I'm fine."

Phantom floated higher, carrying Dash with him. The jock whimpered in fear and clung to Phantom's forearms. "Are you?" Phantom questioned. 

He released Dash's shirt so only one hand was holding him in the air and reached for Danny's face. Dash squawked in fear--he did not let go of Phantom's moving forearm, however. Phantom's fingers pushed beneath the hand Danny had clasped over his eye, forcing him to remove it. Danny didn't know the damage Dash had caused, but he guessed from the throbbing in his cheek and eye, he would have a black eye in a matter of minutes. 

Phantom's hand glowed with blue energy, his fingers turning ice cold. Danny sighed and leaned into the touch.

"You're hurt," Phantom said, almost like a reproach.

Danny snorted. "Like you're one to talk." He laid his hand over Phantom's. "It was just a misunderstanding. I'm safe. You don't have to fight anyone." 

Phantom's brow furrowed slightly. "But they were so angry. And afraid. You were afraid."

Danny looked past Phantom at the crowd of students gaping up at them and then back at Phantom. "What about now?"

"Worried. Afraid." Phantom's nose wrinkled. "Mostly."

Danny grinned cheekily. "Aww, is your power display turning some of them on?"

"Turning you on more," Phantom muttered, his cheeks gaining a green blush. 

Danny cleared his throat. "They're worried for you because you're in no shape to be flying around like this. Get over here and sit down already."

Phantom hesitated. He looked down at Dash. Another growl rumbled in his chest, and this time Danny was close enough to feel the vibration in the air. "He hurt you."

"He's sorry, though, right, Dash?"

Dash nodded furiously.

"He won't do it ever again, right, Dash?"

"No!"

"Not even when I call him a major fucking asshole for not listening to me, right, Dash?"

"Fenton!" Dash cried. "Yes! Fine! You were right!"

Phantom sighed. "I don't feel so good..."

Danny wrapped his fingers around Phantom's wrist and backed away from the bleacher's edge. To maintain contact with him, Phantom dutifully followed him onto the bleachers, turning himself and Dash intangible so they could float through the bars. As soon as Dash's--solid--feet touched the bleachers, they gave out and he collapsed onto a seat. Phantom let go of his shirt and kept floating toward Danny until he landed against his chest. 

All at once, Phantom's flight, the green aura, the cold wind, the solid green glow in his eyes winked out. He closed his eyes and fell into Danny's arms, his hand falling from Danny's face. His weight drove Danny to collapse on a bleacher seat himself. He grunted. 

He half expected Dash to run to safety but Dash was at his side in a moment, fretting. "Shit, shit," he swore. "Is he okay? What the hell was that all about, Fenton?!"

Danny sighed, Phantom's white hair dancing in front of his mouth. "Hey, Dash, the next time I tell you you're forcing an injured ghost into an instinctual state, maybe you should listen, yeah?"

"Uh..."

Danny sighed again. "Never mind. Just help me--we need to lay him down. He passed out."

"Ghosts do that?"

"When they use too much energy. He...I don't know, he might have drawn some from his core." 

Danny looked up as Dash helped spread Phantom out over a bleacher seat. Tucker and Sam were running toward them, the bag with the first aid kit held above Sam's head as she waved her arm. He wanted to sigh in relief, but the crowd--no longer entertained from the side of the bleachers--was making its way to the front. Paulina was already climbing the stairs. 

"Fuck," Danny groaned. 

"You said he needs privacy before?" Dash asked.

"Um. Yeah. Except for Sam and Tucker--they're bringing the medical supplies that actually work on ghosts." 

Dash puffed out his chest. "Right then!" He pounded down the steps of the bleachers, shaking the metal seats. "Back off!" he shouted. "Ghosts need privacy when they're injured, you idiots!"

Danny bit his lip and looked down at Phantom. If Phantom hadn't defended him as he had, if he hadn't reacted to Danny's pain so quickly, Danny would probably have been beaten by the football team--perhaps even his whole gym class. They certainly had no problem doing so when he had filled in for the mascot and they lost their homecoming game during freshman year.

Still...once the crisis of Phantom's injuries passed...how many of them were going to remember Danny had calmed him down? How many would recognize what had happened as something more than just a hero protecting someone? How many would recognize a ghost defending his mate? 

Note to self, he thought, brushing his fingers through Phantom's hair, don't underestimate Phantom's protective instincts.

[liklty]

Wizard And Sorceress - Hisirdoux Casperan | Becoming: Part 4

Plot: (Y/N) (L/N), a 17-year-old girl who has long known she was a sorceress, has been roped into her cousin’s Trollhunter adventures alongside a couple of friends.

Word Count: 3129

Warning: Swearing and poor writing towards the end

A/N: Hello! If you were wondering, I’m not dead! Sorry if I didn’t update this story in quite a while. I was just really busy with school and I kind of struggled with motivation when it came to writing this chapter, but I pulled through! For what’s it worth, I really hope you guys enjoys todays chapter. I’m thinking having my update schedule to be every 2nd Tuesday, if that makes sense, and I hope to keep with that moving forward! Also, just to give you guys a little heads up, Douxie is probably going to appear after a couple of chapters, so get ready for that :3 Sorry that it isn’t sooner. 

Also, I wanted to give a big thanks to @wanda-peitro-lorna-maximoff from coming up with the  nickname, “Young Hecate” Stickler has for the reader! I just love that nickname so, so much, so thank you for allowing me to use it in my story!

“So, what did you decide?” As the three of you walked through the locker room, Toby asked the taller boy, nudging Jim's arm with his elbow.

“That if anyone finds out what happened in my kitchen last night, all of us will be committed,” Jim replied, his face serious as he looked at Toby. 

“I meant about kicking Steve’s butt.” Toby clarified while karate-style chopping and punching motions with his hands. 

Jim told him, “Give up the dream, Tobes,” as he walked ahead of the two of you.

You heard a brief dinging sound that disappeared as quickly as it came. From where you were walking, you saw the amulet, which was in Jim's bag pocket, shining softly. You drew your brows together. Toby seemed to have noticed it as well, as he grabbed Jim's backpack and stopped the boy as the brunette peered into your cousin's bag pocket. You, too, came to a halt and looked.

“Does this thing run on batteries?” As you heard the bell ring in the distance, Toby asked, moving his head to get a better look.

“What’s it doing?” You wondered as you took a closer look.

“How should I know?” Jim whispered, his hand covering your view of the amulet, “It didn’t come with a manual.”

“Does it feel like you’re going to, you know, change?” The shorter boy asked, taking a quick glance around.

“Oh no,” Jim breathed out, his shoulders slumping and eyes widening in realization.

“Oh-oh! Then we gotta get you somewhere that isn’t here!” You said this as you hurriedly considered where you and Toby might take Jim.

Toby nodded and forcefully shoved Jim into the boy’s changing room behind him, leaving you by yourself lonesome.

“I- oh.” You mumbled to yourself, debating whether you should wait outside or go somewhere else so you don't seem strange for standing outside the boy's locker room.

You turned around after deciding to stand by a nearby locker and immediately collided with someone. You staggered back and quickly looked up, apologizing frantically, your brain not completely registering who you had collided with.

“It’s quite alright, Young Hecate.” A familiar male voice informed you.

You blinked twice before lighting up. 

“Oh, hello Mr. Strickler!” You greeted the man with a smile to which he returned.

“How are you doing? How are your lessons going?” He asked you.

“I'm good and I'm doing well in my classes,” You nodded, swinging back on your heels before leaning forward on your toes, “But math is super hard! I’m not sure how I’ll make it through it! It’s going to absolutely kill me!” You wined, straightening your back and waving your hands around.

“You're a smart kid, (Y/N),” Stickler chuckled and patted your head with his pen. “I'm certain you'll be able to get through the year with at least one of your brain cells intact.” He said, making you laugh.

“A girl can dream,” You said, patting the area above your chest as you closed your eyes.

“I’ll see you later.” He said, bidding you farewell as the two of you parted ways.

You peered from the corner of your eye to see the man enter the locker room. You came to a halt and stared at the entrance, nervousness rising in your stomach. You hoped Jim wouldn't be caught.

---- 

“Give me my Romeo and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all of the worlds will be in love with night.” Claire recited on stage, performing for the role of Juliet for the play, Romeo and Juliet.  

When she was finished, the small crowd in front of her started to applaud.

“It would have been easier to tell him that I’m a Trollhunter. I don’t even know the play.” Jim told you both, frustration evident in his voice.

You, Jim, and Toby were tucked away to the side of the stage in the school's gymnasium. Toby had told you that Mr. Strickler had seen Jim in his armor back in the boys changing room and Jim, in a panic, had told him that he was going to audition for Romeo in the school play while the three of you were rushing to get to the gym earlier.

“Thank you, Ms. Nunez.” Ms. Janeth said to Claire.

When Claire approached Jim, her arms crossed and a grin on her face, the girl nodded, and the sounds of clapping died away, “John?” She asked.

“Um, Jim.” The boy corrected her. 

“And here I thought you didn’t like Shakespeare.”

“Oh, no, he’s my favorite. I totally love him.”

“That costume,” Claire started, gesturing in disbelief and awe at Jim's armor, “Is incredible. Did you make it?”

“No,” Toby replied, drawing your gaze to him, “He discovered a magical amulet that does it.”

“You're funny,” Claire chuckled as you and Jim glared at him.

You slapped Toby’s shoulder, earning a “Hey!” from the brunette, “Yeah, you’re a real comedian, huh?”

“Next!” Ms. Janeth called out.

"I believe that's your cue," Claire said as she stepped back and pointed to the stage. “Break a leg,” She said, keeping her hands behind her back.

As he walked towards the center of the stage, Jim muttered under his breath, "I'd prefer that."

“Good luck, Jim!” You cheered.

Your cousin grinned and gave you a little nod as he looked at you. When they observed his ‘costume,' people murmured in surprise and  Jim gave a nervous chuckle.

“Who are you?” Ms. Janeth inquired, her brows furrowed at him and her pen pointing in his direction.

“James Lake Junior.” He responded timidly.

“And what are you trying out for?”

“Uh, Romeo.”

“Well, we are all ears.” Ms. Janeth said, jotting down a few things on her clipboard.

Jim caught a glimpse of you and Toby, who gave him a  reassuring smile and two thumbs up. He gave Claire a quick glance before looking away, a slight smile tugging at his lips before forming a thin line.

“Destiny is...” Jim started after taking a deep breath. “A gift,” he said as he closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them. He chuckled as he looked at his amulet.

“Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation, never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon out shoulders,” He drew his sword from his holster and pointed it at the small crowd, eliciting a few gasps, “Is actually the sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor.”

You smiled when you noticed the stunned audience before returning your attention to your cousin's performance.

“That to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero.” Jim raised his sword and aimed it at the ceiling, “Don’t think.” He spun the weapon around, causing the drama teacher to cower in her chair and hide behind her clipboard, her eyes peered over the edge. Jim swung the sword back into his back in one swift motion, “Become.”

The crowd clapped enthusiastically, with a few people also getting up to do so.

“Um, thank you.” Jim thanked sheepishly.

Eli stood up and stomped away, throwing his sword to the ground angrily. You couldn’t help but giggle.

----

As the three of you rode home on your bikes, a bell clang could be heard in the distance, and the sun was setting in the background, painting the cloudless sky with purple and orange hues.

“Dude! That was amazing! You were amazing! I’m amazed at how amazing you are!” From your left, Toby exclaimed cheerfully, making you smile.

“I can’t believe you were able to do that!” You cheered, “You were great!”

“I can’t believe I did that too!” Jim said.

“And did you see how the Chiquita was looking at you?” Toby smirked as he crossed his arms and balanced his body on the seat of his bike, “Your armor totally did you a favor.”

“I’m still getting the hang of it,” Jim admitted, unsureness indicated in his voice. 

“Blinky said it reacts to your emotional state, right?” You began, “The-”

Toby had then collided with a wooden plank on the side of the road and swerved to the side, his bike wobbling as he tried to recover his balance. He returned to your side after that, Jim softly chuckling.

“Are you alright?” You asked, your brows furrowed in worry.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” Toby responded, chuckling nervously. 

“Ok good.” You turned back to Jim, “Anyway, the armor appears when you’re in distress.”

As the three of you rounded the corner, Jim said, "But I wasn't in distress back at school."

When the three of you spotted a massive, dark beast with a set of horns and what appeared to be swords attached to his back standing on the other end of the street, you and the others came to a halt. It roared, making you all finch back and weep in fear.

Jim straightened his back and said, "But I am now."

“Trollhunter. Merlin’s creation,” The beast growled, getting down on all fours and stomping the ground with one fist, “Gunmar’s bane.”

Toby whispered to Jim, leaning against his side, "I think he's talking to you."

Yeah, no shit.

The beast roared once more before rising and stomping on the ground with his hand. He took a step to the side before stomping on all fours again. When he got closer, you saw a small portion of his hand go into the sun's light, which made him hiss and recoil.

Huh, his weakness must be sunlight!

“Guys, take a look. He can't go into the sun,” You said quietly, drawing their attention to you, “It hurt him.”

“Not for much longer!” Toby said as the sun started to set.

God fuckin damn it. 

“The amulet!” The beast said, his voice booming, “Surrender it and I will give you a speedy death.”

“Doesn’t know how to negotiate, this guy. Go, go, go!”

As the large horned beast chased after you, the three of you screamed and raced towards the nearest corner. You rounded the corner and hid in the limited space between two trucks. Your heart raced when you heard a growl nearby.

“Hurry up!” You hissed shakily, “Put your armor on, please!”

A loud clank was heard, followed by the sound of a big truck being thrown. You rubbed the area above your chest, trying to keep your breathing steady.

“Okay. For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” Your eye twitched as the amulet softly glowed a blue colour before fading away. Jim's eyes widen as he exclaims, “It’s not working!”

When you heard heavy footsteps approaching, all of you slipped behind the truck quietly. You clenched your handlebars tightly when you heard growling.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” Jim repeated, but nothing happened, “Seriously, it’s mine to command. I’m commanding here!”

The truck in front of you was raised, and your gaze was snapped in that direction.

“Centuries of Trollhunters and I will have killed two in almost as many days.”

“Oh no! He’s good at math!” You and Toby both yelled, and the three of you booked it on your bikes.

He hurled the truck at the three of you, and fortunately, you all narrowly avoided being hit as you made a sharp turn that nearly caused you to crash into the ground. Your pulse was quickly pounding through your ears, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins.

When the beast leaped in front of you, the three of you swerved out of the way, avoiding the beast's brash arms. You peered over your shoulder as he pursued you and fired a beam at him, causing him to fall back a little.

“Head down Delancy!” Jim demanded s you, him, and Toby made another turn to avoid another truck coming your way.

“Behind Stuart Electronic!” Jim ordered as he glanced behind him.

“You know I can’t fit there!” Toby complained.

“You got this!” You said, trying to offer Toby some encouragement. 

“No, I don’t!”

“You’ve been on a diet remember?” Jim pushed his way into the narrow alleyway with you trailing close behind.

Toby became trapped when he reached the alleyway and tried desperately to move forward saying, “I can’t fit! I can’t fit!” 

You and Jim came to a halt at the end of the alleyway and you fired another beam into the beast's eye, causing him to hiss in agony, saying, "I'm going to have your head sorcerer!"

“Please don’t!” You said.

“I can fit! I can fit! I can fit!” Toby chanted happily as he made his way closer to you, “I fitted! Yay diet!”

Before you and your friend rode off towards the bridge and biked over it, you gave him a big smile and congratulated him. The three of you came to a halt around the final curve, panting heavily. You closed your eyes and leaned your forearms on your bike handlebars. Your legs were killing you and you absolutely hated that.

“Look at me, look at me. We’re not dead, right?” Toby asked, his face lying between his palms.

“Master Jim!” You turned your head towards the source after hearing a familiar voice chuckled. You, Jim, and Toby were approached by Blinky and Aaarrrgghh.  Blinky was waving at you, Toby, and Jim while Aaarrrgghh was hiding behind a bush, “Ha-ha!”

“Bular’s trying to kill us! He chased us all over town!” Jim screamed as he approached the two trolls.

You sighed softly as you sluggishly followed. Toby was close behind.

“You have a sweet voice, but you bring death with you!” With a finger pointed at Blinky, Toby said.

You let out a shaky laugh.

“You can fight him, right?” Jim asked optimistically.

“I could not hope to possess the skill to defeat Bular.” Blinky answer as the troll trolls laughed.

“What about him?” You questioned, gesturing weakly to Aaarrrgghh, “He’s buff.”

“Pacifist,” Aaarrrgghh said, tilting his head slightly.

“Seriously?” Jim said in disbelief. 

Toby patted his arm and said, "Man, what a waste of a hulking brute."

“Thank you.”

“This is why there is a Trollhunter, Master Jim.” Blinky explained, “Aaarrrgghh renounced the violent path ages ago.”

Oh?

Bular jumped out and growled at all of you before anyone could say anything else. Blinky had told you all to join him and that you'd be safe in a place called Heartstone Trollmarket if you did. So that's what you did when the giant beast chased after you, shrieking.

You were sobbing in your head, desperately not wanting to continue pedaling to your limits. Perhaps you should just let Bular kill you so you can be free of this torment. You swear this is the most physical activity you've ever done in your life.

Bular knocked down a row of street lamps, causing Toby to collide into one of the fallen lamps and was launch into the air. Fortunately, Aaarrrgghh had caught him and immediately laid the boy on his back. You were riding down the path towards the canal and you screamed as you slide down the canal at high speeds on your bike.

You used your magic to bring your bike to a stop, causing you to jerk forward and groan. You sloppily dismounted and dashed toward the two trolls and Toby. You watched as Jim was finally able to wear his armor and landed on the cement floor of the canal.

Jim was in a combat stance, but after seeing Bular coming at him, he noped it real hard and booked it towards you. When you, Binky, and Toby tried to persuade him to take on the beast, Bular leaped in front of him. His blade flashed a vibrant blue hue when it struck Bular, sending them both sliding in opposite directions.

“Hurry! We must open the portal!” Blinky said as he took out a flickering orange object that looked like a miniature sword from his pocket and tossed it at Aaarrrgghh, who caught it.

Aaarrrgghh carved out a semi-circle into the wall with the orange object and punched it, causing it to crack. When it released a blue colour, the fragments started to hover out of the way, creating an entrance.

“Jim!” You call out, “Hurry up!”

“I’m a little busy here!” Jim responded, trying to fight off the beast, which only resulted in futile.

Jim dashed towards you, but the portal began to close.

“Come on, Jim, hurry!” Toby exclaimed, reaching out his hand.

Your heart sank when the portal closed, but thankfully, Aaarrrgghh reopened the portal, although barely, and dragged Jim to the other side. After that, the gateway was instantly closed. You and the boys took deep breaths while the adrenaline levels steadily dropped after the rush.

“He nearly… We nearly… He almost…” Jim said breathlessly.

“Nearly what, Master Jim? Speak up.”

“He almost killed us!” Jim exclaimed, raising his hands into the air. 

“‘Almost’! A very important word.” Blinky said, turning around as you and the younger boys looked at him with disbelief, “A life of ‘almost’ is a life of never.”

“Why’d the armor suddenly shut off?” Jim said as you all followed Blinky.

“Master Jim, you are the first human to possess an amulet crafted for trolls.” Blinky stated, “It’s to be expected its behavior will be… unexpected.”

After passing through a very wide doorway, you noticed the dark crystals pinned to the wall below you, creating a staircase that led all the way down. The crystals started to take on a blue hue, illuminating the pit and making it look absolutely beautiful.

“Woah.” You and Toby exhaled deeply and leaned forward.

You latched to Aaarrrgghh's arm, terrified of falling to your death.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” Jim asked as you all made it down the staircase.

“Indeed. The incantation forbids entry to Heartstone Trollmarket by GummGumms such as Bular, for they are the most fearsome of trolls.” Blinky said as you all managed to get to the end, “Now, Master Jim.” Blinky said, turning Jim to look the other way.

You strolled over to Toby’s side.

“This is the world you are bound to protect.”

As you take in the stunning scenery in front of you, your mouths were agape. Hearthstone Trollmarket appeared to be made up of a number of buildings and stairwells arranged around the town. Throughout the place, there were various minerals and crystals that provided lighting, and in the middle of it all was a massive amber-like crystal that towered above everything.

“This is Heartstone Trollmarket!”

[lostcoves]

ft. asahi azumane x fem!reader

genre: angst

wc & warnings: 3.9k | violence, graphic imagery, guns, blood, murder, death

premise: it’s 1987. asahi azumane’s friend sawamura daichi has vanished. alone and confused, asahi feels helpless until he saves a mysterious girl who may have the answers to his friend’s disappearance.

note: my piece for @haikcore​’s fall into the past collab! this is officially my longest fic to date! i hope you all enjoy!

october 1987

asahi azumane’s final semester as a third year high school student began. butterflies fluttered about his stomach at the thought of completing high school. he had no plan, no clue what he would do after high school.

asahi didn’t have many friends at school minus sawamura daichi and sugawara koshi. they were the three musketeers; always hanging out after school and at one another’s houses. yet, tragedy struck during fall break.

sawamura- or daichi, no one called him by his last name- upped and vanished one day, leaving asahi and the town of tachinan in a state of confusion.

sugawara and asahi drifted apart after that, daichi was the glue of the friendship and without him.. there was no three musketeers.

asahi entered his final semester of high school alone and afraid for his best friends.

school was hard enough with his friends but without them, asahi felt as if he was floating through a sea of uncertainty. people were scared of him for his size and appearance when he really was the human equivalent to a teddy bear. no use making friends when he looked like a monster.

asahi made a mad dash to his house after the first day of the new semester. there was no purpose in hanging out afterwards. head hung low, asahi’s mind wandered off to thoughts about daichi. whatever happened to his friend?

“look what we found, boys! the dragon princess herself, all by her lonesome!” a cackling voice caught asahi’s attention. under the bridge he stood on, there was a group of juvenile punks cornering a poor defenseless girl. the girl with her shiny (h/c) hair and bright (e/c) eyes assumed a defensive position, ready to fight. but asahi knew she couldn’t take on all those gangsters alone.

“nice tits she got, too!” that was the final straw. asahi leapt off the bridge and landed on the body of the head gangster. he didn’t know what came over him, asahi just started beating the shit out of the punk with everything he had.

“woah, woah, woah!” the girl exclaimed, “i think you did enough, big guy. look at him now.”

asahi looked down at the head gangster, his nose broken and bleeding with his eyes swollen purple and red. he stared at his fists, soaked in the gangster’s blood.

“scram!” the remaining punks scattered about and abandoned their leader. with his strength, asahi hoisted the gangster off the ground and slammed against the wall of the bridge’s underside.

“don’t harass women, asswipe,” asahi grunted before tossing the gangster to the ground. the gangster got up and scurried away, leaving asahi alone with the girl.

“i coulda handle that,” the girl commented to asahi with a huff, arms crossed.

“a ‘thank you’ would have been enough,” asahi fired back with a sigh, “no one could have handled all of those punks.”

the girl uncrossed her arms and placed them on her hips, “maybe you’re right so.. thanks, i guess.”

“lemme walk you home,” asahi offered.

the girl pondered on his offer before replying, “okay, you can walk me home.. what’s your name?”

“asahi. asahi azumane.”

“nice to meet you, asahi. hironaka (y/n) is my name but i prefer that folks just call me (y/n),” the girl- hironaka (y/n)- introduced herself to asahi.

hironaka.. why did that name sound so familiar? asahi thought to himself. he shook the thought off and asked, “where do you live?”

“just down the road,” (y/n) pointed down the street. asahi narrowed his eyes, that road led to some of the nicest homes in tachinan. nonetheless, asahi smiled and extended his hand to (y/n), “let’s get going.”

a flicker of hesitation crossed (y/n)’s face but she took asahi’s hand. asahi and (y/n) walked down the street, making small talk to pass the time.

“so how did you end up getting cornered? you don’t seem like the type that would let that happen,” asahi noted.

“they caught me off guard when i was trying to head home from school,” (y/n) answered, a frown on her face.

“i see,” asahi pressed his lips together. he hoped that you wouldn’t have to face anymore trouble, “they’re scum for attacking you.”

“agreed,” a chuckle escaped her lips. (y/n) stopped walking, “this is my place.”

asahi looked up and his jaw dropped to the ground. (y/n)’s house was huge! traditional but well built, asahi couldn’t help but admire its design. he cleared his throat and turned his attention back to (y/n), “your home is.. er, lovely?”

“thanks,” she replied. (y/n) went to leave but paused. she turned back around and embraced asahi gently, asahi nearly choking from the close contact. (y/n) pulled away and smiled, “thanks for being my knight in shining armor.”

“o- of course!” he stammered, cheeks red. (y/n) giggled and waved goodbye before disappearing into the house. 

asahi waved her off, a giddy look on his face. what a nice girl, he hoped to see her around.

little did asahi knew that it would be sooner than expected.

─────────────────

asahi left school the moment the bell dismissed him from his final class. with a bounce in his step, he made his way out of the school and promptly ran into the largest man he ever saw.

“oh!” he jumped back, flustered. asahi looked up at the man and bowed respectfully, “i’m so sorry for bumping into you.”

another man appeared, then another, and then more. asahi gulped at the realization that he was surrounded by men that vividly resembled gangsters. the man he ran into grabbed him by the collar and growled, “this is what you get for messing with the dragon princess.”

dragon princess?

a punch was thrown, the man’s fist colliding with asahi’s face. another punch and a few kicks later, asahi was left crumbled up on the ground as a bloody mess. the gangsters surrounded him and went for the kill shot when a familiar voice stopped them.

“leave him alone!”

“(y/n)..?” asahi croaked, spitting up blood. (y/n) soared out of nowhere and dropkicked the head gangster. the gangster took the kick like a man and (y/n) did a backflip, landing on her feet.

“guys, asahi saved me yesterday!” (y/n) yelled at the gangsters, “i don’t know what father told you but asahi is a friend not a foe!”

the tense aura dissipated, as the gangsters exchanged sheepish looks. the head gangster kneeled before asahi apologetically, “apologies, sir.”

“it’s.. uh.. okay,” asahi answered, wiping the blood off his face. (y/n) helped asahi up and brushed the dust off his uniform. she sighed and patted asahi on the cheek, “sorry about that, asahi.”

“and they are..?” asahi gestured to the gangsters questioningly.

“men from my father’s.. organization,” (y/n) answered nervously. then it clicked inside asahi’s mind.

“hironaka.. wait, you’re the dragon princess!” asahi gawked at (y/n), “the daughter of the red dragon clan. your family.. your family practically runs this town!”

“not so loud!” (y/n) shushed the taller boy, eyes darting to the other students passing by. she looked back at the gangsters and snapped her fingers, the men scattered and disappeared. (y/n) huffed and turned her attention back on asahi.

“i didn’t want you to find out,” (y/n) stated.

“i would have found out eventually,” asahi commented, “everything comes to light in a small town like tachinan.”

“you’re right about that..” (y/n) grumbled. 

asahi offered a smile, “thanks for saving my butt.”

“just returning the favor,” (y/n) hummed.

asahi paused, “hey (y/n)?” he asked. (y/n) looked up at asahi and tilted her head to the side in bewilderment, “yes, asahi?”

“do you wanna go out into town with me?” 

“like as in a date?”

asahi blushed with realization, “wh- i mean! well, uh.. sorta?”

(y/n) giggled, “i’m just teasing you. i’d love to go out into town with you.”

“well uh!” asahi cleared his throat, “let’s go?”

asahi and (y/n) ventured into the town of tachinan, walking down the main road. a blend of modern and traditional architecture greeted them when they made it to tachinan, food vendors lined up on the streets and people mulling about and minding their own business. 

“takoyaki?” asahi suggested to (y/n). (y/n) beamed at the mention of food, “yes please! but only if you’re treating me.”

“it would be rude of me not to,” asahi chuckled before facing the takoyaki vendor. he purchased two plates of takoyaki from the vendor and handed one plate to (y/n), “here you go.”

“thanks!” (y/n) dug into her plate of takoyaki eagerly. how adorable, asahi thought to himself while enjoying his own plate of takoyaki. some of the takoyaki’s sauce dripped down on (y/n)‘s salior fuku, causing her to curse. asahi gave her a napkin to clean up the mess. 

“so your family is yakuza..” asahi brought up the topic to (y/n), “what’s that like? being the daughter of a yakuza clan?”

“terrifying,” (y/n) answered, “so many people wanna kill me just for being the heiress to the clan.”

“don’t you have people protecting you, though?” asked asahi.

(y/n) nodded and gestured around the main street, “my bodyguard is hiding among the crowd so i’m never truly alone,” (y/n) fell silent and a sigh escaped her pretty lips, “my family has done terrible things and i don’t want to be apart of it but i have no choice.”

“i’m sorry,” asahi didn’t know what to say. a cold autumn breeze ruffled his gakuran. asahi finished his takoyaki and looked back at his newfound friend, “look, (y/n), i–”

“get down!” (y/n) screamed before tackling asahi. he collided with the ground and let out a soft ‘ompf’, just as a bullet soared through the air. a bombardment of bullets flew about the main street, bystanders running away and yelling for help. asahi stared up at (y/n), who pinned him down to the ground. 

“they found me,” (y/n) cursed. she grabbed asahi’s hand and pulled him up from the ground, “run on the count of three, okay?”

“wait–”

“one–”

“(y/n)–”

“two–”

“wait, gimme a–”

“three!”

asahi and (y/n) ran, dodging a barrage of bullets. a bullet struck a nearby bystander, much to asahi’s horror. what horrified him more was the fact he recognized the person who got shot. 

it was sugawara.

“sugawara!” asahi let go out of (y/n)‘s hand and sprinted to sugawara. he grabbed his unconscious friend and dragged him to the hiding spot, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

“god, you’re an idiot,” (y/n) commented to asahi, as he attempted to find the source of the bleeding. asahi couldn’t lose another friend,”oh zip it, i wasn’t gonna let my friend die!”

“right, right. sorry,” (y/n) apologized, as she rummaged through her backpack. (y/n) pulled out a gun from her backpack and loaded her weapon with a cartridge of bullets, “my house is only two blocks from tachinan’s main street. i’ll cover you, get your friend to safety.”

“why do you have a gun!?” asahi nearly screamed at the sight.

“for protection, duh. now, run!” (y/n) popped out of the hiding spot and fired a shot, striking one of the attackers. asahi hoisted sugawara onto his back and ran as fast towards the street (y/n) lived on. he ran and ran until he could feel his legs wanting to give out. 

“keep running!” (y/n) yelled, still shooting her gun at the invisible enemies. finally, the two of them made it into (y/n)‘s home and slammed the door behind them, panting and breathless from the fight.

“father! we got a wounded!” (y/n) shouted. footsteps echoed through the house, as a bulky man approached the foyer. he resembled (y/n) with the same (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, “christ, (y/n)! what did you get yourself into?”

“ambush,” she responded, pocketing her gun. (y/n) winced a bit and checked her shoulder, blood soaking her uniform. asahi gawked, “(y/n)! you’re hurt!”

“flesh wound,” she grunted, “need to take care of your friend first,” (y/n) looked back at her father, “dad.. help him, please.”

“okay,” (y/n)’s father carried sugawara off into the house and called for assistance. a plump woman appeared out of nowhere with a medical kit and the two got to work with sugawara.

“here,” asahi ripped off a piece of his uniform and tied up (y/n)’s wounded shoulder, “hopefully that stops the bleeding..”

“thanks,” (y/n) forced a smile, “i’m sorry about this, asahi.”

“why are you sorry?” asahi questioned.

“we got ambushed because of me. i told you that people want me dead and now..” tears swelled up in (y/n)’s eyes, “now your friend got hurt because of me.. i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey..” asahi held (y/n) close and wiped away her tears, “it’s not your fault, okay? so don’t blame yourself. you can’t control the fact people wanna hurt you. all you can do is fight against it.”

“you’re right,” (y/n) sniffled.

“(y/n), your friend is stable!” (y/n)’s father yelled from the kitchen. both asahi and (y/n) got up from the ground and entered the kitchen where the head of the red dragon clan and the woman from earlier waited.

“he got lucky,” (y/n)’s father stated, “the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs. he’s gonna be unconscious for awhile but he’ll make a full recovery.”

“thank you, sir,” asahi dipped his head low out of respect.

“and you must be the infamous asahi azumane!” the clan leader chuckled, “i can’t thank you enough for saving my little girl from those gangsters.”

“of course, sir! i would have done the same for any other girl or boy!” asahi exclaimed.

“drop the ���sir’, okay? call me taro,” the clan leader- taro- replied. (y/n) let out a huff and turned to the woman, “hey reiko, can you patch me up?”

“of course, miss. (y/n),” answered the woman before guiding (y/n) off to the side for treatment. asahi looked back at taro and his expression softened, “i don’t know how to repay you for saving my friend, taro.”

“in the yakuza world, we’re even. you saved my daughter, i saved your friend,” explained taro.

“i couldn’t bare to lose another friend,” asahi muttered, staring at sugawara sadly. taro quirked an eyebrow in confusion, “did you lose a friend recently, asahi?”

“my friend daichi.. he disappeared one day and no one has heard from him ever since,” answered asahi.

“daichi.. sawamura daichi?”

asahi’s heart stopped.

“yes! that’s him!”

“yeah, i know him,” taro pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, “a good kid. last i heard of him..” taro placed a cigarette between his lips, “he got wrapped up in some bad shit with the spider monkeys,” he lit the cigarette.

“the- the spider monkeys?” asahi never heard of them before.

“a rival clan,” taro blew smoke out of his lips, “they reside on the other side of tachinan. bad folks, worse than my clan when it comes to illegal activities and what not. you do not want to get involved with them.”

“but they could have the answers to daichi’s disappearance!” asahi protested.

“they could but if you enter their terf?” taro extinguished his cigarette, “you’re a dead man, asahi azumane.”

asahi hung his head low in shame. he needed to know what happened to his friend, asahi had to know.

“a.. asahi?” sugawara’s voice caught asahi’s attention.

“sugawara!” asahi rushed to his friend’s side, grinning from ear to ear with joy. sugawara let out a weak laugh and the two friends embraced, “asahi.. god, it’s so good to see you. where.. where are we?”

“somewhere safe,” asahi told a white lie. 

“who’s he?” sugawara nodded at taro.

“that’s taro. he saved your life,” asahi explained. sugawara smiled at taro, “thanks, taro. i don’t know what my parents would have done if i died out there.”

“probably revive you and kill you again,” taro chuckled.

“yeah.. probably..” sugawara coughed a bit. asahi rubbed sugawara’s back affectionately, “take it easy. you took a bullet to the gut, suga.”

“i’ll give the two of you some alone time,” taro left the kitchen. asahi looked back at sugawara and whispered, “i found where daichi is, suga.”

“you what?!” he shouted. asahi covered sugawara’s mouth and shushed him before releasing his hand from his mouth. the bun wearing boy then told his friend, “daichi was last seen with the spider monkeys.”

“oh my god.. daichi’s dead then!” sugawara went pale in the face.

“we don’t know that!” asahi countered.

“if he’s with the spider monkeys, then he’s probably dead..” grumbled sugawara with sorrow.

“what are you two talking about?” (y/n) popped into the conversation.

“who are you?” sugawara asked.

“i’m the girl who saved your ass,” (y/n) answered. she grabbed a chair and sat down in front of the boys, “so what’s the plan?”

“we’re gonna infiltrate the spider monkeys’ terf.”

“you’re an idiot,” (y/n) smirked, “but i’m in.”

“well, i’m not!” sugawara interjected, “i almost died today.. i’m not gonna risk that again.”

“then me and (y/n) will save daichi,” asahi stated.

“well, good luck with that..” mumbled sugawara.

“we’ll go tomorrow,” asahi told (y/n). she nodded, “sounds like a plan.”

“you’re an idiot,” sugawara spat.

“i may be an idiot but at least i still have faith in my friends!” asahi fired back.

“boys, boys!” (y/n) cut between the bickering friends, “enough, okay?”

sugawara and asahi fell silent.

“i’ll get you tomorrow, asahi. we’ll save daichi,” (y/n) held her fist to asahi.

asahi fist-bumped (y/n), “thanks, (y/n).”

operation: save daichi was a go.

─────────────────

under the cover of darkness, asahi and (y/n) made their way to the headquarters of the spider monkeys. armed with a revolver and some training from (y/n), asahi felt confident in the rescue mission.

“you guys are idiots,” a familiar voice greeted (y/n) and asahi from their hiding spot. sugawara stood behind them, annoyance written over his friend. asahi broke out into a grin at the sight of his friend, “suga! you came!”

“of course i did,” he huffed, “i wasn’t gonna let my friend rush into yakuza territory alone,” sugawara eyed (y/n), “well.. i wasn’t gonna let my friend rush into yakuza territory without my help.”

“here you go,” (y/n) handed sugawara a gun, “take the safety off, cock it, aim, and fire. simple, ain’t it?”

“yeah.. simple..” he scoffed.

“on my lead,” (y/n) nodded to the boys. she counted down from five and on one, the trio rushed into the spider monkeys headquarters. a yakuza member noticed them but before he could fire his gun, (y/n) fired and shot him square in the head. 

“shit..” asahi nearly puked at the sight of the dead body.

“keep moving!” (y/n) yelled at asahi. the trio spilt up and ventured through the house on the search for daichi. asahi took the first floor and listened for any clues, keeping his gun close. 

“you’re a dead man, sawamura.”

asahi’s ears perked up at the sound of daichi’s name. it came from the room on the left, its door slightly ajar. asahi hid behind the door and peeked inside, horrified at what he saw.

his friend daichi, bloody and beaten. he looked malnourished, his muscles losing definition and his cheeks hollow. a yakuza member was in the midst of interrogating him, slapping daichi around whenever daichi gave an answer he didn’t like.

i’m gonna have to kill him.

asahi realized that thought and cocked his gun.

aim.

asahi aimed at the yakuza member’s head.

fire.

asahi fired his gun.

bang!

the bullet flew through the air and through the head of the yakuza member, who dropped dead to the ground.

i just killed a man.

asahi pushed his thoughts aside, as he ran to his friend and dragged him out of the room. tears of joy flowed out of asahi’s eyes, as he got his friend out of the yakuza headquarters.

“i knew you were alive, daichi!” asahi cried out.

“you saved me,” daichi managed a weak smile.

“you can thank we when we–”

asahi paused.

daichi looked confused, “asahi?”

asahi dropped to his knees, blood spilling from his abdomen. 

“asahi!” daichi screamed.

sugawara and (y/n) ran out of the house at the sound of daichi’s screaming. (y/n) gasped at the state asahi was in and with sugawara’s help, the two managed to drag daichi and asahi to safety.

“asahi got shot!” sugawara sobbed. 

“i gotta stop the bleeding!” (y/n) applied pressure to the wound but it was too much, asahi was losing blood too fast. asahi held a hand up and rested it on her cheek, “it’s okay. you can stop now.”

tears fell from her cheeks and onto asahi’s face, “you’re gonna die, asahi..”

“it’s okay,” he forced a smile, “it’s okay, (y/n). get sugawara and daichi to safety, okay? for me, do it for me.”

“i’m not leaving you,” (y/n) hoisted asahi up and threw his arm around her shoulders, “sugawara, help daichi. we’re getting out of here.”

sugawara and (y/n) dragged their friends out of the war zone, bullets flying by from angry yakuza members. the two of them carried asahi and daichi to safety in the form of a nearby clinic.

“we’re gonna get you treatment,” (y/n) reassured asahi. 

asahi laughed softly, “(y/n).. it’s okay, really. i’m ready.”

“you’re not dying on me, idiot!” (y/n)’s body shook with sobs. asahi sat up and kissed (y/n) on the lips, silencing her worries. they kissed and kissed until asahi couldn’t anymore.

“i love you,” he whispered.

“i love you too.. idiot,” (y/n) wiped away her tears with a grin.

“thanks for the memories, daichi and sugawara,” asahi told his friends.

“we love you, asahi,” daichi and sugawara held their friend. (y/n) kissed asahi on the forehead, “you can go to sleep now, asahi.”

“i love you guys.”

asahi closed his eyes and exhaled his last breath.

“we love you, asahi azumane.”

─────────────────

november 1987

daichi, sugawara, and (y/n) stood silently before the casket of asahi azumane. mourners expressed their apologies to the family of the deceased, asahi’s mother sobbing in the arms of asahi’s father.

“he saved my life,” daichi muttered, hand resting on the closed casket.

“mine as well,” sugawara added, placing his hand over daichi’s.

“he’s a hero,” (y/n) stared at the casket.

“i think i decided what i’m gonna do after high school,” daichi spoke up. sugawara and (y/n) looked at daichi in befuddlement, “what are you gonna do?” sugawara asked.

“i’m gonna become a police officer,” daichi bore his eyes into (y/n), “i’m gonna put the spider monkeys in jail for what they did to asahi.”

“i wish you luck with that,” (y/n) responded.

“i think i’m gonna be a teacher,” sugawara announced, “to teach people and be a positive role model so they don’t turn down the path of the spider monkeys.”

“i’m gonna turn my clan into an organization that helps people,” (y/n) looked back at the casket, “for asahi’s sake.”

“for asahi’s sake,” daichi nodded.

“for asahi’s sake,” sugawara smiled.

in a distance, the ghostly figure of asahi azumane watched his friends and first love make those promises to one another. a smile bloomed on his face as a result.

“for my sake,” he replied, “for your sakes, as well.”

[lilyharvord]

i need some marecal fluff please help

hehe, ask and ye shall receive. Here, have some older Marecal. (((: 

Grace 

I don’t remember when I stopped looking like myself.

Maybe it was after Coriane. I’m doubtful of that conclusion. She was a tiny baby, and I had bounced back into my uniforms at a pace that Farley had grumbled about for months. I was convinced that I would be able replicate the process almost five years later. My pregnancy with Shade had been a whole different beast though.

It had to be after Shade then.

I turn to the side, and twist my lips at my image in the mirror. No amount of training had been able to remove that pouch between my hips. Nothing could get rid of those stretch marks that crept up the sides of my stomach either. Sara had told me they were beautiful when I mentioned quietly how I felt about them. They’re a testament that you carried two babies in there, and they’re a reminder of that wonderful process, she had told me as she spooned applesauce into her second son’s mouth. She had adopted him out of a war torn Piedmont family, and she adored him as if he came from her own body.

I didn’t need reminders of that process. I had two reminders already, running and shrieking in my house, waking me up at ungodly hours by tapping on my cheek, or driving me up the wall with their antics. I was fine with just having that, I didn’t need the reminder on my body too.

I just didn’t look like myself anymore.

Running a scrutinizing eye over the rest of my body, I feel my lips pull down into an even deeper frown at what I see. My hips are wider than I remember them being a few years ago, and my breasts are definitely two different sizes. I blame Shade and Coriane for that. My son had refused to stop nursing, and my daughter had been terrible at nursing in general. I have more scars than I remember, and those thick branching ones on my back seem to get a little wider every month.

Mare Barrow of the Stilts would be shocked to know what her body would like at 35. She knew she might look like her mother someday, thin and wispy, with a little more chipping off like old paint every day. She probably hadn’t pictured what would happen after countless battle injuries, living more comfortably than she even could have imagined, and two children though. I bet if I went back in time to tell her what she would become, who she would become, she would laugh in my face and spit at my eye sometime between throwing insults.

“Mommy.”

Snapping my robe closed with my heart pounding in embarrassment, I glance over my shoulder to spot one part of my musings. Standing there trying to do his little tie, Shade shows me his tangled up fingers with a pout.

I chuckle softly at his expression and beckon him to me. He hurries across my bedroom so I can crouch down in front of him and untangle his hands.

“Why didn’t dad help you with this?”


“He’s busy on a call from uncle Kilorn. I told him I could do it myself.”


“Uh huh.” I nod with mock seriousness as I start the knot over. He’s only seven, but he’s got an independent streak that puts him in some tight spots that Cal and I have to rescue him from more often than not. He watches my hands with narrowed eyes as I work, probably trying to memorize the movements. When I finish, I ask, “What is Cori doing?”

“She’s done getting ready. She’s in the family room reading.” Shade shrugs as I tighten the knot just a smidge more and adjust the collar of his little suit jacket.

“Did she brush her hair?”


“I dunno.”

“Does her hair look like a lion’s mane?” I tease and he throws his hands over his mouth to hide his smirk, his only tell when he lies. At least he inherited his father’s complete inability to lie. Coriane on the other hand could lie her way to the moon if she wanted, and I blame my parenting for that. I taught her young how to get out of things, I regret that now.

“Did she tell you to lie to mommy and say she brushed her hair?”

He shakes his head quickly but doesn’t take his hands away from his mouth. Raising my brow at him, I wait for him to break completely.

He sits in silence, his eyes darting left and right. Eventually I notice his face progressively getting redder and redder.

“You can’t hold your breath and pass out to get out of this.” I snort before rising from my crouch, deciding to let him off the hook. I hear his rapid exhale and inhale as I leave my room and head downstairs.

Sure enough, my daughter is curled up in the window seat, her nose buried in a book. She’s dressed in the nice pants and shirt Gisa made for this occasion. Unfortunately, her hair is hastily tied back into a ponytail. It looks more like a bush attached to the back of her head than hair.

“What have we talked about?” I ask her as I approach. Her shoulders pull up to her ears at the sound of my voice, and she glances at me with a sheepish smile.

“I’m almost done though; can’t I just finish?”

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get your butt upstairs and brush your hair.” I admonish, as I hold my hand out for the book. Her face falls, before it shifts dramatically into that pleading face she knows gets her anything she wants.

“Just one more chapter? Pleeeeeeeaaaase?” She bats the thick, long lashes she got from Cal and although a part of me still melts at the sight, I’ve learned my lesson. Give her rope, and she’ll walk for miles.

“No, no more one chapter. You stayed up until two reading.” She blushes red, and she opens her mouth to refute my words. “Don’t even try. Dad went to bed then and saw the light on in your room.”

Her lips twist to the side, and she chapters her book off before handing it to me, begrudged. I take it as she slides out of the window box, a knowing smile touching my lips. Giving her a little nudge between her shoulders blades when she hesitates and gazes longingly back at the book, I say, “You can have it back at the dinner tonight. And I’ll even let you bring a second book to start.”

Her eyes light up and she takes off, her feet pounding on the stairs as she goes. Setting that book down on the side table, I follow her. As I enter the hallway, I can hear Shade in her room, chattering away. I can almost picture the layout of her room perfectly. He’s perched on her bed, kicking his heels and playing with the fringe on her blanket. Coriane sits at her little vanity, brushing her hair so quickly she’s probably pulling it out in chunks, while nodding along to whatever he says.

My children remind me so much of Shade and myself that it makes my chest ache somedays. I’m sure it reminds Cal of Maven too. We have yet to truly discuss that with our children. I wonder if I’ll be able to tell them what truly happened. We’d have to do it sooner rather than later though. Coriane is starting higher school soon, and when she does, her history classes will start to turn toward the Nortian Civil war. She’ll need to understand what the names on those pages mean.

I pass my bedroom, and lightly knock on the ajar office door. Cal’s eyes dart up from the papers in his hand when I open it further and stick my head in. I give him a fake smile and hold my hand up to tap my wrist. He rolls his eyes and gestures to the phone he’s balancing in his ear. Huffing at that, I storm across the room before pulling it away from him.

Pressing the receiver to my ear, I try to ignore the look Cal throws my direction. “Kilorn, the speech sounds fine. You’ve had ten different people read it, including me.” I glower at Cal then, who simply shrugs in response. “Now if you don’t mind, I do need to steal my husband so that he can handle our children because I’m not dressed yet, and I don’t plan to be late to my best friend’s inauguration.”

Kilorn is quiet on the other end before saying, “It’s going to be good right? I’m not going to sound too… wishy washy?”

“If you sounded wishy washy, I wouldn’t have voted for you. I’m hanging up now, we’ll see you at the ceremony.” I press the receiver down before he can reply and drag a hand down my face.

“You gave him a much needed confidence boost there.” Cal teases as he sets Kilorn’s speech aside and rises from the chair. His shirt is still unbuttoned, and he’s missing his jacket. I grab at the shirt and start buttoning it up, ignoring the teasing smile he gives me when my cheeks flush slightly.

“You should have done exactly what I did and then helped Shade with his tie. He got his fingers all tangled up.” I admonish before patting the finished buttoned-up product. He tilts his head down to smile before sliding his fingers under my chin and lifting my head a bit more. “Plus, I had to corral Coriane who definitely did not put her conditioner in last night, so we’re going to have to deal with that mess before we leave.”

“They’re going to look fine. Besides, no one is going to be looking at us. This is all about Kilorn today.” He murmurs before pressing a light kiss to the tip of my nose.

I sigh in exasperation at his words. “People will look, they always look.”

“And we’re going to look just fine.” He presses one kiss to my temple, and then turns my head to press one on the other side.

“You’ll like fine; you always look fine.” I close my eyes at the feather light touches, melting just a bit.

A kiss gets pressed to one of my eyelids. “You are always the most beautiful woman at these things, you know that.” Another kiss lands on my other eye. I scrunch up my nose in distaste and open my eyes. He slowly pulls away to tuck my hair behind my ear in response.

Sliding a hand around my waist he pulls me up so that our bodies are flushed against each other. He hasn’t changed much over the years. At 38 he still looks like he’s pushing 24. All those good silver genes that have been passed through the generations. There are laugh lines starting to cut around his mouth, but that’s hardly a fault. I hope Shade ages like him. I don’t have to worry about Coriane, she looked like Cal the day she was born, and she’ll look like him for the rest of her life. She has the same amber eyes, and the same jet black hair. My features are hidden, but they’re there. In the shape of her nose, the hint of honey brown in her hair, and her smaller size. Everything else is her father though.

He guides my arms up to wrap around his neck before sliding his hands down my body to rest on my waist. With a smile that has always coaxed me back into bed on mornings when our children are still sleeping, he whispers, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and will ever see.”

“Now your pushing it.” I grumble as I try to escape his embrace. He pulls me up against him though so that I have no hope of getting away, and presses a kiss into the hollow below my ear. My eyes close involuntarily and my mouth falls open in a soft exhale at the sensation.

He presses another kiss against my neck and breathes against my skin. “You are, and always will be.”

I can feel my entire body responding to him. Damn, if he’s not careful I’m going to drag him down the hall to deal with this properly. We’ll definitely be late to the inauguration then.

“You know I’m not who I was when you first fell in love with me,” I whisper that thought quietly against his jaw. It had been nagging at me for days, and this morning it had really come to the fore as I stood in front of the mirror. He could say I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen all he liked, but that didn’t mean I had to believe it.

His hands trail along my back and he whispers into my hair, “And I’m not the same either. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Don’t lie. We both you know look the exact same as you did when we first met.” I grumble, earning a little laugh from him.

“Do not. Besides, what does it matter what you look like now?” He pulls away enough to bring a hand up and trace his thumb along my lower lip. With another gentle smile he tips my chin down to press a kiss to the space between my brows. “You’ve brought two beautiful children into the world, and that still hasn’t stopped you from running head first into battle. You are still the force nature I feel in love with.”

I can’t help the smile that creeps to my lips as he presses soft kisses down the ridge of my nose. When he reaches my lips, I hug my arms a little tighter around his neck. “Careful, if you keep talking like this it might be three children.”

His eyes light up, and he presses the ghost of a kiss against my lips. “I would not be opposed.”

“Ew.”

I pull away from the actual kiss to glance over my shoulder with a light laugh. Shade stands in the doorway with his sister, looking every bit as disgusted as he sounds. He makes a face and pretends to gag in the hallway. Even Coriane looks a tad more disgusted than usual. Her lips twist to the side as she looks at us. “Are you two going to make out? Cause that’s gross.”

“Bleh.” Shade makes another pretend gag sound in the hallway.

“It’s hardy bleh.” Cal teases before sweeping me to the side and into a dip. “Your mother is beautiful and I plan to kiss her as long as I can.” I gasp at the sensation of falling backwards before smirking as he presses another kiss to my lips.

“Gross!”

“Yuck!”

“You guys are so gross!”

“Yuck, yuck, yuck!” They sprint down the hallway on the tail end of Shade’s words, both of them making gagging sounds that were comical no matter how unreal they sounded.

“That certainly got rid of them.” Cal smirks as he pulls me back up to my feet. I smack his shoulder playfully in response.

“If they heard what I said, I am not going to deal with the fallout of that.” I adjust my robe that had fallen open slightly and push my hair into some resemblance of order.

“I’m sure they know where babies come from by now, Mare. Coriane is twelve, and kids talk.” He passes by me, but not before hooking the top of my robe and pulling it away from my shoulder to press an open mouthed kiss there. I push his face away and wrestle my robe closed.

“Later, you pain in the ass.” I tease at his back. He doesn’t even give me a response. Instead, he calls down the hallway for the kids, already telling Coriane to get in the bathroom so they can fix whatever else she’s done with her hair. I hear Shade shriek with laughter a heartbeat later which means he must have chased him and caught him.

Smirking, I slip out of the office and close the door behind me. Immediately I can hear Coriane in the bathroom whining that there’s too much conditioner, which Shade immediately laughs about too. Pacing along the wall, I glance over the pictures we have hanging there. Tracing the one of Coriane holding Shade the day he was born, I let my fingers hover over that one the longest.

Another loud protest from Coriane draws my attention back to the bathroom and I glance inside at the scene before leaning against the doorway. Coriane pouts at her reflection while Shade perches on the edge of the bathtub watching the whole thing. Cal continues to thread his fingers through our daughter’s hair through her protests, taming the curls as best as possible. Even when his fingers get caught on a particularly nasty knot and she pulls an ugly face that makes Shade howl with laughter.

Yes, Mare Barrow from the Stilts definitely wouldn’t have been able to guess that this is what she would be watching on a spring day in her future. But in some ways, it’s better than anything she could have imagined.

[alloftheimaginess]

Tips

A/n: working as a waitress absolutely sucks so I wrote this imagine because one can only dream something this would happen

"Erica" I say walking through the dining room with the pitcher of water.

"Number 5 needs their food brought out and Marco is out grabbing some more glasses so I'm going to need you to take over that because I still have to handle my table and if I didn't you know I totally would take it over" I say laying a hand on her back as I pass.

"Okay for sure" she says smiling at me and I go over to my table to refill the waters they asked for.

"Can I get you guys anything else?" I ask and the woman smiles at me.

"If you don't mind we'd love some more bread" she says and I quickly nod.

"Coming right up" I say smiling at her and the bell for the reservations goes over and Erica is still in the kitchen so I go over setting the pitcher down on the side.

"Hello. Welcome to Cords, can I get a name for the reservation?" I ask brushing my hair back and looking up.

"Holland" he says and I type it in.

"First name?" I ask when nothing pops up.

"Thomas" he says and I type in his full name.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holland it says your reservation was supposed to be for 45 minutes ago and when you didn't show your table was given away" I say looking up.

"Do you guys have a spare table?" He asks.

"For your party of six? We have a party finishing up dessert right now so we'll get that table cleaned up for you as soon as possible. But the wait is about 35 to 40 minutes" I say smiling at them.

"That's okay, we can wait" he says smiling at me and I nod adding his name into the system.

"Can we get some decent customer service here. We pay over 300 dollars and we can't even get our bread" the man at the table I was helping yells and I sigh feeling overwhelmed.

"While you wait, there's some drinks and bread in the seating area" I say and the curly haired one in the party looks back.

"There's no bread in there" he says and I can feel myself about to cry.

"I will bring you guys some bread out in a second" I say running to the kitchen.

"Four bread baskets" I say as soon as I enter the kitchen and Erica is throwing up in a bucket.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Morning sickness" she says and I sigh.

"Okay, go home and get some rest. See a doctor or something I don't know" I say freaking out because there was already only 3 of us working tonight.

"Bread up" Cody says and I grab all the bread and I rush to the table.

"I'm so sorry, I hope you didn't have to wait too long, one of our servers is down and so it's just me and one other guy tonight" I say smiling at them.

"No problem honey, thank you" the wife says meaning it and by the man’s look on his face he's done with me today.

I run back over to the Holland family "sorry, I have your bread right here. Can I get you guys anything else?" I ask putting down the bread baskets and the extra butter and knives.

"There's no more wa-"

"(Y/n) table five still needs their food" jacob says cutting Tom off and he smiles at me.

"Water? Anything else?" I ask.

"No we should be good thank you dear" the woman says and I smile at them before taking a deep breath and running off and I grab the food and water careful not to drop anything and I deliver the food.

"Let me know if you need anything and I will try to get it out to you as soon as possible" I say and they huff happy to finally have their food.

"(Y/n) a table for the party of six opened" Matt says and I nod and I go over to them restocking the waters.

"If you guys can come with me a table has opened sooner than we thought" I say smiling at them because the sooner I get them seated the sooner I can finish today and they stand up following me and as we past the check in I grab the menus and I lead them to their table and I allow them to get situated before passing out the minutes and silverware.

"My name is (Y/n) and I will be your server tonight. I just want to let you guys know that we are short 3 people tonight so it's just me and another guy named Marco. I will try to get back to you guys with a quickness but seeing as though today is a Saturday we are extremely busy and packed" I say taking a deep breath.

"So you'll have to excuse me if I can't get right back to you, I will be back to take your drink orders unless of course you already know what you want" I say and so can feel the tears but I fan my face.

"We'll order our drinks now" the older man says and I nod pulling my pen from out my apron and the notepad.

After taking their drink orders I take it to the kitchen and I start to fill them up. "How's it going with table 7's food?" I ask.

"Mr. substitute has to wait about 15 more minutes" Cody says.

"Do you maybe want to tell him that?" I ask frowning as I push the door open and I rush the drinks back out to the table quickly setting it down.

"Waiter" I hear Mr. Diaz say and because I'm with another table I ignore him.

"Any idea when you are going to get my food to me?" He asks.

"Sir, you order so many substitutes that they had to make your food from scratch all over so it's going to be a while" I say politely still passing out the drinks.

"You don't get paid to bitch about how I order my food. You get paid to serve me and if I'm not going to be served then me and my wife are going to take our business elsewhere" he says and I stop mid setting the glass down.

"Sir if you allow me to go check, I'll try to rush it out" I say.

"You should be fired, you are the worst person for this job" he says and I accidentally knock over the glass and it spills all over the place and that's the last straw.

"I'm so sorry" I say crying.

"Let me go grab a towel really quick" I mumble running into the kitchen to grab some towels.

"What happened?" Nathan asks when he sees me.

"It's just been a horrible week and it's too much and I can't even get off to go see my little sister get married because no one wants to cover my shift and having to hear her cry about that and then school is kicking my butt and Mr. Diaz is too much" I say and I take in a deep breath and I wipe my eyes and I throw on a smile and I rush out to go clean up the table and Mr. Diaz and his wife are waiting for their coats by the front door.

"I am so sorry about that" I say wiping up the fruit punch.

"I am not usually like this" I say wiping down the side of the table.

"Why do you work here?" One of them asks and I look at them.

"I'm in university and it helps pay the bills, they are really chill about working with my class schedule so I've been here since I was 18" I say.

"Do you deal with people like that all the time?" Tom asks and I nod.

"Yeah one of the downsides to this job is having to deal with rich snobs who think they are better than me" I say.

"If you're use to this why are you crying? I'm Nikki by the way" she says sticking her hand out and I shake it.

"It's a lot going on this week, my baby sister is getting married and I can't even go because no one will trade shifts with me and she's completely heart broken and it's not like I could even go if someone was nice enough to switch because I can't afford the last minute airline fee's and I'm studying for my midterms and I haven't got any sleep in like two weeks" I vent and when I finish I stand up.

"Are you guys ready to order?" I ask.

"Can you give us a minute?" She asks and I nod.

"Yeah of course. And I'm sorry my venting was just super unprofessional so I would really appreciate if you didn't say anything to my boss because I'm already in trouble" I say and I can feel myself starting to cry again.

"Of course we won't say anything dear, we’ll let you know when we're ready" the man says.

"Just call me. Remember my name is (Y/n) you'll probably hear me crying before you see" I say laughing it off before walking away to go see if other food is done.

I go back over to their table after not hearing from them for 15 minutes and I see the table is empty and I know I scared them away which is not good for me because they'll want to know why they left.

I go to clean off the table and I see a note and I pick it up. "Don't worry we didn't leave because of you crying to us. We realised we were the last ones to be seated meaning that you'll have to stay longer because we were eating. You were a great hostess and so we left you a tip to show you how worth it you are. Love the Holland family p.s go see your sister get married.

I lift up the napkin and there’s a bunch of 100 dollar bills laying there and I pick it up and I start crying harder and I collect it all going into the kitchen.

"What happened?" Cody asks and I hand him the letter and he smiles and I hand him the cash and he counts it, his jaw dropping.

"(Y/n) this is four thousand dollars" he says and I nod.

"I know" I say and I take 500 of it and I give it to Marco and he starts crying.

"Why?" He asks.

"You've put up with as much shit as I have tonight and you deserve it" I say and he hugs me.

"I will personally find someone to cover your shift, go see your sister get married" he says hugging me again and I nod grabbing my stuff and running out

[jeannereames]

Hello, Dr. Reames. I have a question I would like to ask you. How is it like to work as a historian? I'll be finishing high school soon and i thought a lot about studying history at college, but I really don't know much about how it really is to work in the field, so if you could tell me how is it like, at least from your experience, I would really appreciate it 😊

(The following was written to reply to a query from a high school student, but is aimed broadly at anyone pondering the value of a history degree at various levels: BA/BS, MA, and PhD, written by an older professor who’s also served as Graduate Program Chair. PLEASE SHARE.)

First, by “working in the field,” I’m not entirely sure what you mean, and maybe you’re not either. And that’s okay.

So let’s talk about what “working in the field” could mean.

The common assumption about majoring in history is that it leads only to teaching high school, college, or working in a museum. (Maybe archaeology…but that’s actually a different degree.)

FACT: MOST history undergrad majors do not teach history or work in museums. Look at this helpful little illustration below. Note that only 18% work in education. Maybe some of the 10% administration are education administration. But even if we assume half are, that’s still less than ¼ of history degree recipients going into education, plus that 18% includes library science.

Now, some of the things on that list have little to do with history directly. Yet some have connections the average person might not think of: both legal and protective services, for instance. Legal = law, and protective services = FBI/CIA/other policing. The FBI loves historians as analysts, so does the CIA. History uses the same skill-set as police detectives. In addition, several (working and former) lawyers I know who were history majors all say their history degree gave them a leg up in law school over colleagues who’d done poli-sci or criminology.

Why?  CRITICAL REASONING. We teach you to think about what you’re reading/seeing/hearing, then how to write about it. Those skills are imminently useful in a number of careers. (To be fair, philosophy is useful for much the same reason; don’t knock a philosophy degree!)

So if you want to study history…it’s not going to hurt your job prospects, especially if you mull over how to “professionalize” yourself. Below, I’ve put a link to the American Historical Association’s website talking about just that: career development. If you have other skills such as IT, or are multi-lingual, it makes you even more valuable. Lots of work in the fields of digital humanities (which involves history), archiving, and public history. Also, sometimes scientific skills pair well, particularly for archaeology: LiDAR and GPR, for instance. Chemical analysis, dendrology, etc., etc., etc.

 American Historical Association Professional Development

Now, let’s say you are thinking about going on to teach history in college (at least in the US). My best advice?

Don’t.

That may shock, from a history professor, but the plain fact is that not only is history (and the humanities) undergoing seismic shifts on campuses, but college itself is altering profoundly. I call it the “Wal-Martization of Higher Education.”

Administration is bloating. Just look some time at the various administration levels in most any college: how many assistant deans, and senior-vice chancellors, etc. It’s crazy. There were half that (or less) when I was hired at UNO 20 years ago. Meanwhile, fewer tenure-track positions are opening in departments (that aren’t big grant winners). If anything, colleges are cutting those. More administrators! Fewer professors! Sure, that’s the ticket….

Why’s this happening? Administration has learned that, especially for entry-level courses (1000-, sometimes 2000-level), they can hire part-time lecturers, pay them peanuts, not pay them benefits…and rake in the same tuition. Bean counters don’t help, where they look at “Butts in seats,” enrollment figures, retention, and shortening the “Time to Degree.”

College is increasingly expensive, students want to cut corners and save bucks. I don’t blame them, but AT THE ROOT is the Almighty Dollar.

Education has become a “commodity,” a mere certificate to get you a job. Quality pedagogy is increasingly sidelined. From enrollment to graduation track is emphasized. This is a discussion all its own, so won’t go into it. (Again, this is a HUGE philosophic debate.)

The teaching of intro-classes by grad students/newly minted PhDs has been A Thing for decades. It’s not new. But back when I was doing it, it was considered job training and critical experience for my resume to get a “real”—e.g., tenure-track—job that had benefits and job security.

Pay your dues. Okay, fair enough.

BUT around the time I got hired by UNO (2000) and even a little earlier, college administrators began to suss out that they could cut tenure-track jobs by hiring an endless (desperate) string of part-time lecturers to teach entry-level classes. The idea spread slowly, but by c. 2010, it was entrenched. Too many PhDs, not enough jobs, so to make ends meet, those lecturers would take 4, 5, 6 classes (at various schools) at a couple thousand a class. Without a spousal unit, many live at the poverty level…WITH a PhD. Increasing numbers simply bailed on academia after several years on the job market, taking other jobs as they could, but (in some cases) trailing enormous tuition debt. Some still write and publish, and are content with that.

The field has wised up, but too many PhDs (or even MAs) were caught in that trap as it became clear what was happening—hundreds competing for a handful of jobs a year. I’ve run job searches (just did one, in fact). We can regularly expect 80-120 applications for one job—higher for Americanists. Yet this will be one of a handful of tenure-track jobs that year. Think about that: c.100 applicants for…5 jobs, 6, 7…10 if you’re lucky in a “hot” field.

Yet some unscrupulous professors STILL turn out oodles of MA or PhD students because it looks good for them. Beware of such! I’ve worked with a few. If ANYbody tells you there are easy jobs to be had and don’t give you a version of “The Talk” above (which I gave ALL my MA students) they’re in it to pad their CV, not to take care of you as their grad student. Find a new advisor ASAP.

Some fields are more “hot” than others, but this varies, and you can’t assume a “hot” field when you start won’t be a “saturated” field by the time you finish. It’s unpredictable.

This is all bound to implode sooner or later, and the pandemic may very well push that along.

So YES, there will continue to be jobs open for history professors. But they’re many fewer than in the 60s. 70s, 80s, or even 90s, and most will go to students from top tier (private) universities. Yes, dammit, people pay attention to the name on the kidskin. There will always be exceptions. So if you work your ass off and are truly driven, you could secure one of those jobs. When hiring, I look at what you DID/published/presented, not just where you got your degree.

So if you really want to teach at the college level—are driven enough—you’re going to ignore everything I just said and get that PhD anyway. But at least you’ll go in with your eyes wide open, knowing it’s a volatile field with “college” itself in flux. I’ve no idea what the institution will look like by the time I retire in 10 years (or less now).

Jump at every opportunity. Present papers at salient conferences, seek grants, try to get published if you can (mostly PhD level). It’s still possible, just understand the competition is STEEP.

I’m here to prove a first-generation college student with NO useful language got a full-ride scholarship to Penn State in the ‘90s, secured a tenure-track job at U-Nebraska, Omaha. Not a Research 1 university, but still tenured at a school with a History MA and research time off, then started the Ancient Mediterranean Studies Minor/Program here, and served as grad chair.

But I’m RARE, and come from an earlier era.

How much are you willing to buckle down and kick ass?

It’s an uphill climb. I won’t lie. Your odds are bad. So you have to REALLY WANT IT, to go on to an MA then PhD.

Teaching at the high school level is more attainable but comes with its own freight of baggage.

SO… getting a BA or BS in history, or even a minor in history, at the undergrad level is NOT a useless degree. For that matter, an MA in history isn’t. But the PhD is increasingly becoming The Hunger Games to find a job after. How much will you sacrifice?

[bouwrites]

Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 9

I remember the first night that she went to find her little place inside this world.

First, Previous, Next. Ao3.

Story under read-more.

“So… that’s the box?”

Marinette nods, frowning down at the Miracle Box.

“It’s, uh…” Jon clears his throat awkwardly, “spherical.”

Marinette snickers. “Not what you were expecting?”

She watches Jon frown at the ladybug-spotted dome of the box. “Well, no…”

“It’s kind of ugly, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Thank God, you said it!” Jon sighs in what must be relief. “I didn’t want to, I don’t know, insult the kwami’s… home? I don’t know, is this thing sacred?”

Marinette giggles freely, enjoying his antics. “It’s fine. It’s not exactly subtle. Or cute. The old guardian, the one who chose me, when the box was his it was this really pretty ornamental puzzle box sort of thing. But then I get it and it’s… this.”

“It’s spherical!” Jon exclaims.

“Yeah, it’s not even a box anymore and I’m honestly not sure if we should, you know, keep calling it that. But what’s the alternative? The Miracle Orb?”

Jon bursts into a giggling fit at that. “Miracle Egg.” He says.

“Or just Egg.” Marinette laughs.

“It is an oblong spherical thing that holds living creatures, so…” Jon just keeps cackling, and Marinette laughs along with him. It’s ridiculous to even consider calling the Miracle Box, the vessel that holds over a dozen immortal gods, an egg, but that’s exactly why Marinette is short on breath and leaning on Jon for support. (Mostly, because the description isn’t wrong.)

“Anyway.” Marinette says when she calms down. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About finding another way. It might not be… ideal, but I think I figured something out.”

“You did?” Jon watches her curiously. “And what’d you figure out?”

Marinette sighs and closes her eyes. “First, that you’re right. Passing the guardianship on to Chat Noir isn’t really an option. I don’t… Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to forget. It’s too much of my life. I wouldn’t be the same person I am now if I did. And… despite how hard it is sometimes, I do like the person I am now.” She punches Jon’s shoulder gently. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Jon grins cheekily. “For stopping you from forgetting, or for helping you like yourself?”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” Marinette teases. “But both. You’re a big reason why I’m happy giving up being a hero. I never would have accepted that I don’t have to be. I still haven’t completely, but if you weren’t here, then forgetting really would be my only option.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “Anyway. I was thinking about how to be guardian while still refusing to fight, and I’m honestly a little embarrassed I didn’t think of it sooner. The guardian before me did the same thing, though in his case it was because he was too old to fight.”

Jon looks between her and the box. “What are you going to do.”

“I’m giving up Tikki. Not completely, of course. She’ll still be in the box. But I still need a Miraculous to use if I have to, so instead of her, I’ll partner with Wayzz.”

Jon furrows his brow, but simply watches as Tikki and Wayzz both frown sadly at her. “Are you sure about this, Marinette? You’re such a wonderful Ladybug.” Tikki says.

“I’m sure, Tikki.” Marinette glances to Jon. “Wayzz is the turtle kwami of protection.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Wayzz bows politely to Jon, who nods back.

“Did you see when Carapace was around?” Marinette asks.

“I did.” Jon says. “So, this is the Miraculous that he used?”

“Yes. It’s also the Miraculous that the guardian before me used. Its powers are all about shielding. Protection. I can use it, and keep myself and the Miraculous safe, all without breaking my promise of non-violence.”

Jon blinks dumbly. “You made a promise?”

“I am right now.” She says. “To you. We both want to leave that life behind us, and I turned my back on this once, so I’m promising you now. I won’t fight. Ever. If I ever have to again, I’ll find another way. I won’t abandon this life again. Or you.”

Jon worries his lip. His eyes are watery, but otherwise he just stares at her. “I promise, too.” He says eventually. “We’re in this together. No more fighting. No more heroes. There’s always another way.”

“A peaceful life.” Marinette says with a smile.

“A peaceful life.” He agrees. Then, he chuckles softly. “Normal was never possible, was it? But peaceful is. We know it is.”

Wayzz looks between the two of them for a moment and says, “Normal is a common misconception. Even people who are never touched by magic or heroism are all unique. Thus, a ‘normal life’ is entirely subjective, and says little about the actual contents of the life.”

“Heh. I see.” Jon says softly. “You’re the wise one.”

Wayzz laughs. “I try to be helpful.”

“Aha, well, I look forward to getting to know you, Wayzz.”

“And I, you.”

Marinette smiles at the two before turning her attention back to Tikki. “I’m sorry, Tikki.” She says. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“Never, Marinette.” Tikki zooms close to hug her cheek. “I understand. Wayzz is a good partner, and I’m glad you found something you care so much about. I’m proud of you, for making the decision to stand by what you believe in.”

And now Marinette is teary-eyed. “Thank you, Tikki. You’ve no idea how much that means to me.”

“Stay safe.” Tikki says. “Stay strong. I believe in you. Just do what you have to to be happy.”

“I will. I promise.”

Tikki drifts over to Jon to look him over sternly. “Take care of her.”

Jon purses his lips. “Duh. But you’re not going anywhere, though, right? Just into the Egg. You’ll be around to kick my butt if I do anything out of turn.”

Tikki giggles. “You’re right. I will. It’s just… sad. Marinette’s been my partner for many years now, and from the box I can’t always help her. I’m asking you to help her.”

“I already promised.” Jon says. “We’re in this together.”

Satisfied with that answer, Tikki nods and, with one last long look at Marinette, vanishes into the Miracle Box. Marinette carefully places the earrings inside, then checks the fastening of the bracelet around her wrist.

The air is tense, as if the very room can sense the significance of the moment. An exchange of Miraculous isn’t a small thing, especially when the ladybug Miraculous is involved. But Marinette puts a swift end to that tension with a decisive, clinical change of subject. “I don’t know about you,” She says to Jon, “but I am going to ace this semester.”

Jon chuckles. “I’m still hurting from that second semester, to be honest. But I’m with you. Can’t mess up my first semester in my new major.”

“We need to get into good habits again, like we did when we first got here.” Marinette says, standing to return to her desk and calendar. “And no more of this drama. I know this was my fault, but still.”

“Ugh, agreed.” Jon says. “We cannot do this every year. At least we figured it out in just a couple weeks this time. Not like last time.”

Marinette flinches. “Don’t remind me. That was my fault, too.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Jon says softly. “I would have done the same thing. That was just something we were inevitably going to have to deal with. I’m glad we got it out of the way so early. We’ve still got years to get everything put back together. And that’s only including college. Not to mention it would have hurt more if we’d kept the secret longer.”

“Good point.” She admits. “Still, I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jon waves her off. “Water under the bridge. It probably would have been simpler if I’d gotten some random normal roommate, but I’m still glad I got you.” He nudges her playfully. “You’re my friend.”

Marinette ducks her head, feeling her cheeks warm, but she doesn’t try to fight off the smile that stretches across her face.

“No, things have just been a bit hectic lately.” Marinette says into the phone. “I haven’t been giving myself enough time to study, so I’m playing catch up.” It’s not the whole truth, obviously, but she can’t tell even those closest to her about what’s been going on with Jon without his permission. He may not be Superboy anymore, but anyone who figures him out will be able to figure out Superman’s civilian identity and that could be disastrous. Not to mention, Marinette is sure that Jon doesn’t want the attention.

“Well, your education comes first.” Penny’s voice over the speaker says firmly. “But there’s some time before we’ll need everything. We know you’re in school, so we didn’t want to put any more on you than necessary. Do you think you can do the album cover, and then we can figure out later if you’ll have time to do the tour outfits?”

Marinette thinks for a moment. “That’ll work. I’ll be working off and on, since I don’t want to sacrifice study time, so keeping track of hours will be difficult. Will the flat rate work for you?”

“That’s fine. I’ll look around for other designers for the tour as a backup plan but let us know when you can if you think you’ll be able to make them for us.”

“I should have a good idea after midterms.” Marinette answers. “I’ll let you know once I do. Same NDA?”

“As always. I’ll send it now. You still want your identity secret, I assume?”

“For now, yes.”

Penny hums softly for a moment. “You know it would help your career if you’d let Jagged rave about you.”

“I know.” Marinette says quickly. “I’m… I think the pseudonym has served its purpose. It’s getting close to time to drop it, but… not yet. Oh! But, about the NDA, I do have a roommate. If I do have time to make those outfits, I’ll have to do it in my apartment. My roommate will see, though. It’s not a big deal, he won’t tell anyone, but I still thought you should know.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you mentioned a roommate. Let’s see… you can keep the album cover hidden, and we’ll announce the album quickly once we get that from you. So, by then, the NDA is largely finished anyway. On your end, though…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind him knowing. As I said, I’m thinking about announcing my name anyway.”

“If you’re sure. We could rent you a studio to work on them privately.”

“There’s no need for that.” Marinette says. “Jon can keep a secret. And you already pay me enough, you don’t need to rent a studio for me, too.”

“Money isn’t an issue, Marinette.” Penny says gently. “But ultimately it’s your decision. If you’re sure.”

“I am. Besides, we’re not even sure yet that I’ll be able to take the job.”

“Of course.” Penny says. “I have to go. Let me know about your schedule. And you know we’re here for you if you need anything.”

“I know, Penny. Thank you. And thanks again for commissioning me.”

Penny chuckles. “You know you’re the only designer rock and roll enough for Jagged.”

Marinette pulls the phone from her ear and immediately checks her email. Naturally, she already has the email she’s looking for. Jagged Stone and Marinette (and Penny) have worked together enough now that this is all fairly normal. Marinette skims through the NDA, just to confirm it’s the same as always (she trusts Penny, of course, but one can never be too careful with contracts) and signs it electronically and sends it back to Penny.

Just a few minutes later, Marinette receives all the information she’ll need to make the album cover. Jagged Stone’s concept, sample files of the music, all the drier organizational stuff that, most importantly, gives her a general deadline. Jagged is generous with information, since Marinette is under NDA anyway and he’s very passionate about everything being “rock and roll” enough.

Marinette is very lucky to have met him, despite the occasional trouble he causes. Once she lets him announce that she’s his designer, there’ll be a lot more trouble, too, but it will jumpstart her career.

Marinette sighs, making sure her headphones are in before clicking through the sample sound files. While it’s true that her reasoning for hiding her identity has essentially become obsolete, that doesn’t mean she’s eager for all the buzz that will surely appear when Jagged announces the name of the designer some people are raving to know about.

When she was Ladybug, too much personal fame as Marinette could be compromising. Adrien is in the same position, of course, but he was raised in fame. He’s used to it and knows how to navigate it. When Marinette designed those glasses and that first album cover for Jagged and everyone knew about her, a girl so young designing anything for an artist like Jagged Stone, she had her own moment of fame. Not to mention everything she watches Adrien go through, or, on occasion, goes through with him. That attention frightens her, it makes her nervous, and when she gets nervous, she’s more likely to slip up.

Plus, she was only a child. She didn’t need that kind of attention at that age. Not on top of Ladybug and, later, being Adrien Agreste’s girlfriend.

But there is no more Ladybug. Marinette is just a normal, adult girl in university. If she wants to get her name out as a big designer, there’s no danger in it. The idea is appealing. After all, what designer doesn’t want their brand to be recognized? Still, old habits die hard. As appealing as it is, it also makes her nervous. Part of her wants to wait until she’s finished with university, another part is calling that part a coward.

She doesn’t need to decide quite yet, though. For now, she has an album cover to design. As always, she does the best she can. As always, she feels that doubt that she’ll live up to expectations. But also, as always, Jagged adores the final design.

Marinette sighs in relief.

She doesn’t take time away from studying to make the album cover. She works on it during breaks and between classes while she’s just hanging around the university. It’s just a drawing, too, so once she gets the design solidified, most of her time spent on it is getting it to a state where it’s presentable. It’s still a time-consuming process, but it’s something she can pick up and work on for a few minutes here and there, rather than devoting entire evenings to.

That said, once she’s finished with it and it’s sent off to Penny and Jagged, Marinette redoubles her focus on her studies. The possibility of designing for Jagged’s next tour is too great an opportunity to pass up, so she has to be organized, be ready, and blow her midterms away.

She won’t be that girl that overworks herself committing too much to others at the sacrifice of her own well-being anymore. That was Ladybug Marinette. Jon told her not to sacrifice herself, and this qualifies, too. If she’s not up to snuff on the midterms, she will turn down the commission. Jagged understands, as does Penny. There will be more opportunities. Heck, there’s the retroactive opportunity whenever he announces that she designed his last few notable outfits. But if she messes up university, that’s not so easily made up, and she’s already butchered one semester with drama.

Her priorities are in order, and for what seems like the first time in a long while she’s happy with them, so she studies. She finds her routine. Classes in the morning, with some time between them out and about for lunch or to talk to friends, then she comes home in the evening, writes down all her assignments on her whiteboard, and starts checking them off one by one.

Jon makes dinner on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, because his classes let out earlier than hers do, but her Tuesday and Thursday are less crowded than his, so she takes dinner duty then, giving him a little extra time to do homework and study as well. They eat together every evening and use the time to chat and forget about studies for an hour or two. It works for them, based on their schedules this semester. Next semester they’ll have to reorganize, but that’s just fine with them. That’s just the way things are in university.

Most days, Marinette doesn’t have much to do after dinner. Since she’s not behind on her work anymore, she gets everything done by the time dinner is ready, so she either studies if she needs to, or relaxes, plays video games, designs if she feels like it. (And if she sketches out some designs for Jagged’s tour, then that’s just less work for her to do after she aces the midterms and takes the commission.) More than a few times, she and Jon have a movie night just because they’re both feeling good about what they’re doing and want to take that small moment to celebrate themselves. Sometimes, it’s nothing so fancy as that, and they’re just watching the television and the other comes in and joins them for no reason at all.

“By the way,” Marinette says suddenly, drawing Jon’s lazy attention. “Did your friends ever get together? David and Tamias?”

Jon shakes his head with a smile on his lips. “No. They’re still pining.”

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.”

Marinette giggles. “Honestly, that whole situation is freaky to me. It makes me have flashbacks to collège.”

“Pfft. Your friends did the same thing to you, right?”

She groans. “Yes. I had the dumbest crush on Adrien, and Alya was always trying to set us up.”

“Is the crush really that dumb if you ended up dating him?” Jon asks.

“You did not know me during the crush phase.” Marinette says. “It was really dumb. Thank god I’m older and wiser now. It does make watching grown men do the same thing a little surreal, though.”

Jon snickers. “You should tell David that. Maybe you’ll embarrass him enough to square up.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s doing his best. I’m not going to make it harder on him.”

Jon hums. “In his defense, things tend to catch on fire around David. Once, I kid you not, he accidentally set his homework on fire from the sun going through his glasses.”

“He what? You’re joking.”

“I swear. I was there. It was stupid and hilarious, and it ruined a perfectly good opportunity for him to tell Tamias how he feels, so I kind of can’t blame him for messing it up all the time.”

“And things like that happen all the time?”

Jon nods. “Oh, yeah. It’s like he’s clumsy, but instead of tripping and dropping stuff, things catch on fire or explode. It’s kind of weird how often that happens to him. Frankly, I’m a little surprised he’s alive.”

Marinette shivers at the thought. “Keep him away from FIT, will you? We do not want a fire around all those textiles.”

“Oh, yikes. Yeah, he’s never invited to your school, ever.” Jon chuckles. “Speaking of, though, how’s midterm prep coming?”

“Good as it can, I think.” Marinette says. “You?”

He groans. “Good as it can, I suppose.”

Marinette giggles at his tone. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Listen, I’m taking an evolution class.” Jon whines. “Like, biology. It’s hard!”

“I know. But you’re a smart man. You’ve got this.”

Jon smiles good-naturedly and fixes Marinette with a look in his eyes that tells Marinette he appreciates the sentiment more than he lets on. “I’ll do my best.” He says.

Technically speaking, Marinette should rent a studio to make Jagged’s tour outfits in. She’s essentially making a small, Jagged Stone-themed collection, after all, and her apartment is not really that big. Not to mention, she’s basically prohibited from bringing guests over for secrecy’s sake. Not that Jon and she often bring guests over. They have university friends, of course, Jon more than her, but bringing them back to the apartment is rare.

But Marinette likes her apartment. And she has Jon to remind her to eat here. She can’t really help when she gets into the zone, so having someone who will remind her to take care of herself will keep her productive longer. She still hasn’t quite mastered doing it herself.

That said, Jon is living here, too, and Marinette doesn’t want to inconvenience him too much with her project. That’s why she plans everything out. It feels good to do so. She’s usually organized these days, in fact she has always been an organized person, despite often losing control of it, so having a plan of attack on this big commission is a relief when she still needs to keep up with her studies.

She doesn’t plan to finish before summer, but Jagged doesn’t need the outfits until late summer, so she’ll have time when she gets back to Paris. That said, her friends who can’t see her except over the phone for most of the year will definitely be vying for her attention, so she wants to get as much done here in New York as possible.

So, if she gets all the bases done here, she can focus on the detail work in Paris. It means all her patterning and cutting will be here, which is, annoyingly, the most time-consuming and space-consuming parts of the project, but it also means that she’ll be in a very good position once summer starts. And if she can keep on top of her schoolwork, she should have most evenings fairly free to work on it, even if it’s only an hour or two a day. That’ll add up. She just has to be organized and dedicated.

She can do this. And the first item on the list is fabric shopping. This is also the most dangerous item on the list. Even in the same store there’s no guarantee she’ll find the same fabric again if she goes back later, but the odds of finding the right fabric an ocean away? Not likely. Marinette is sure she’ll go shopping in Paris, but she plans to gather all of the essentials here.

“Hey, Jon?” Marinette says during dinner on Friday. “I’ve got a new commission, and it’s sort of a big project. I’m going to be needing to use the apartment for it. I’ll try to keep out of your way, but it’ll probably get annoying.”

Jon tilts his head cutely. “Don’t you usually do big projects over at your school?” He asks. “I’m not complaining – it’s fine – but why’re you doing this one here?”

Marinette sighs. “Because it’s a high-profile client, and technically, no one knows I work for him.”

Jon blinks, then leans forward in his seat. “Oh? This sounds interesting.”

“It’s no big deal.” Marinette says. “I had a lucky opportunity a long time ago, and he likes my style, so he keeps hiring me. But since I was barely fifteen when all that started, and I was worried about attention outing me as Ladybug, I asked him not to announce who was designing for him.”

“Ah.” Jon nods. “That makes sense. Who’s this celebrity you work for, then?”

“Jagged Stone.”

“Jagged- woah.” Jon’s jaw drops to the floor. “You’ve been working for him since you were fifteen?”

“Mhmm.” Marinette chuckles at his awe. “Nothing as big as this, of course. I did some accessories for him, and an album cover way back when. Since then I’ve been doing the occasional outfit or artwork, but now he’s asking me to do almost all of his performance outfits for his next tour. He’s been hiring me more and more as I get older. I guess he thinks I’m ready for this now.”

Jon stares dumbfounded at her. “Have told you how cool you are? Because wow. Okay. You’re a designer for a major rock artist. No big deal, right?”

Marinette rolls her eyes at his sarcasm. “As I said, I was fifteen. Believe me, I freaked out more than enough. He’s basically my weird uncle these days, so it really isn’t that big of a deal anymore.”

“It’s Jagged Stone.” Jon protests. “Come on!”

Marinette stares him down. “Really, son of Superman?”

Jon flushes and ducks his head quickly. “Ah- right, yeah. Good point.”

“Anyway, keeping me hidden served its purpose. Not that I’m not Ladybug anymore, or a teenager, I think I’m going to tell him to go crazy. So, this will probably be the last thing I do for him that I have to be so secretive about. But I’d appreciate it all the same if you don’t go talking about it yet. Jagged hasn’t announced the tour yet, so technically speaking I’m breaking NDA just telling you about it.”

“No worries. My lips are sealed.” Jon pretends to zip up his lips and toss the key over his shoulder.

“Good.” Marinette giggles. “Will you come fabric shopping with me tomorrow? Fair warning, you’re going to be carrying my bags. There will be a lot of bags.” Marinette smirks for a moment, then tacks on, “Hopefully.”

“Sounds like fun.” Jon says. “I’m in. You know, thinking about it, this might be the first chance I’ve gotten to see your whole process. From start to finish, I mean.”

Marinette laughs. “Not quite. There’s no way I’m finishing everything before summer. Not while staying on top of class. But that’s good. You won’t see the finished product until the reveal.”

Jon pouts a little, but his smile ruins it. “Fine. Be that way. Just remember me as your pack horse when you’re famous, will you?”

Marinette snorts. “Oh, Jon. You know you’re so much more valuable than a pack horse.” She playfully boops his nose with a finger as she rises to take her dish to the sink. She laughs as Jon turns entertainingly red.

With so much work to do, the rest of the semester flies by in a flash. Marinette has some detail work to hand sew that occupies her on the plane, and then she’s desperately trying to schedule time to work on the outfits while her friends are all dragging her around Paris.

It works out. She ends up having most of the summer to work on the outfits, so there’s no real rush.

She also has time to think about her decision. Keeping Jagged Stone’s designer secret stirs up more interest because of the intrigue of it all, but luckily, it’s been a few years since all that. There’s no good reason to stay hidden, especially considering she’s now working towards her dream of being a designer in earnest, rather than split between that and Ladybug.

It’s still frightening, but Marinette doesn’t let fear control her. She’s a normal girl. A normal woman. As normal as anyone is ever normal. Her quirks just happen to include a colorful past and some magic creatures living with her rather than the more average personality quirk. That’s all. She’s going to have a peaceful life.

She still screams to keep that armor up, though. To stay hidden and safe, where scrutiny can’t directly target her. Where her work is judged for its own merits or flaws rather than because of her name. Revealing herself makes her vulnerable, and what seems like a lifetime of caution has trained her to avoid this at all costs.

It’s a good idea, though. It’s time. Marinette will make the life she wants, and that life includes getting credit for her work. Fame is unnecessary, though it will be flattering if it comes, but she refuses to let people speculate and attribute her work to someone else. And she refuses to hide.

That’s why, with shaky hands and trembling breath, she tells Jagged after he accepts the outfits that he’s free to mention her now, if he wants. She’s twenty-one now and preparing for her career after university. It’s easy to say that’s why she stayed hidden so long up until this point, and why now for revealing her. Jagged knows more than just that, but that’s what he’ll tell everyone, because the truth is long and complicated and more convoluted than even Jagged knows.

Marinette sits alone in the dark in her room when Jagged announces the tour. It starts in a few months, during Autumn, and he’ll be in New York in November. I should get tickets. Marinette thinks, investigating the location. I can go with Jon. I think that’s the week before Thanksgiving, but I should ask to be sure. Jon always goes home for Thanksgiving. The concert is scheduled for Saturday, and with his powers it should be possible either way, but Marinette doesn’t want to ask him to fly around just to catch a concert with her.

I should also make sure Penny isn’t already booking us tickets.

Promptly as ever, Jagged’s first statements about the new album and tour start coming out barely minutes after the announcement. A lot of it is just generating hype, and most of the rest is praising everyone who is working to ensure the tour is going to happen. The entire team that ordinarily doesn’t see the spotlight is highlighted one by one, and Marinette is one of the first.

Designer of the most recent album’s cover art, as well as many of the tour outfits everyone will see in just a few months. Designer of his looks at the past several big-name events. All-around wonderful little lady who has been like a niece to him for years now. Jagged really spares no compliment.

It doesn’t take long before her phone starts exploding from all the notifications. A lot of her old friends, the ones in Paris, already know about her working for Jagged Stone, but no one in New York except Jon does. So she gets congratulations from those that know, shock and awe and, in an odd case, outrage, from those that don’t, all mixing into the sea of social media notifications of all of her accounts suddenly being flooded with traffic at once.

It’s all a little overwhelming. But it’s not bad. And it’s nothing she’s wholly unfamiliar with. She has a bad feeling in her gut, because she doesn’t know every way her life will change and how it won’t because of this, but she calls Alya and stays on the phone with her for a long while until, eventually, she feels ready to take on the last of the summer.

Marinette laughs as photos of old work she’s done for Jagged resurfaces, now with her name to tag onto. She confirms the work she really has done for him, but otherwise takes the rest of the summer to try to stay off of social media. She doesn’t need to worry about that right now. Instead, she turns her mind to something rather more important. Something so obvious, that somehow slipped her mind until now.

As she wonders about Jagged’s November concert and Jon’s Thanksgiving with his family, Marinette realizes that they’ve known each other for two years and never once celebrated Christmas! Obviously, they’re both home for Christmas, so they can’t celebrate the holiday itself, but that’s no reason that they shouldn’t do anything. And now that she thinks about it, Jon’s birthday is in the second semester and they haven’t really done anything special for that, either.

With her commission for Jagged Stone done, Marinette has space for a new project lined up, as well as a lot of extra cash. She thinks it’s about time she starts thinking on her next project.

——-=——-

Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe  @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @theatreandcomicfreak​  @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @too0bsessedformyowngood​  <3

[morganamysticblog]

The Royal Romance - The Anniversary - Part 3

Liam awoke early from a restless sleep.  He had replayed last night’s conversation over and over in his head.  Heather was right, he was becoming his father.  He tried to think back to the very beginning, remind himself how things were when they were madly in love.  The thoughts and images came flooding back.  He remembered when he couldn’t stand to be away from her even for a minute.  How he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  How his heart jumped every time he saw her.  She was his every waking thought, every dream, every fantasy.  It wasn’t just love he felt for her back then, she consumed him.  His whole reason for being was her.  That intensity, that level of love is what he had to get back somehow.

_____

Heather woke up and got dressed.  She walked down the hall to Eleanor’s room to wake her up for her breakfast and morning lessons.  

HEATHER – Good morning my sweetheart.

ELEANOR – Morning mommy.

HEATHER – It’s time to wake up.

ELEANOR – I’m still sleepy.

HEATHER – I know you are, but it’s time to get up.

ELEANOR – But why?

HEATHER – It’s breakfast time.  Then you have your morning lessons.  I believe you have reading with Mrs. Fitz today.

ELEANOR – Ok.  I guess.

Heather helps Eleanor get dressed then they head downstairs to breakfast. Liam is sitting at the table sipping some coffee and reading a newspaper.

ELEANOR – Good morning daddy!

LIAM – Good morning Ellie. Did you sleep well?

ELEANOR – Oh yes.  It was all cupcakes and rainbows.  How about you daddy?

LIAM – It was ok. Heather, did you sleep well dear?

HEATHER – Uh, yeah.

LIAM – So what are you plans for today Ellie?

ELEANOR – I have reading lessons today.  But can we play later daddy?

LIAM – Of course. What about you, Heather?  Any plans for today?

HEATHER – I may go in to town for a bit this morning.  I haven’t decided yet.

LIAM – Would you like some company?

HEATHER – I’ll be fine. Thank you.  If you’ll both excuse me.

Heather gets up from the table leaving Eleanor and Liam together.  She heads back up to her room and calls Drake.

DRAKE – Hey Heather.

HEATHER – Hey Drake. Um…are you busy today?

DRAKE – No.  I have the day off actually.  What’s up?

HEATHER – Can I come over for a little while?

DRAKE – Of course. You do understand you’re killing my Super Mario Bros. time, but I guess I can put it down for a little bit for you.

HEATHER – Thanks. I’ll be there soon.

DRAKE – Ok.  See you soon.

Heather goes back downstairs and asks one of the house staff to bring a car around for her.  Liam comes out of the dining room as the servant walks away.

LIAM – I’m sorry about last night.  I really did not mean to start an argument.

HEATHER – I know you didn’t. I know you had good intentions.  I just think you don’t think these things through all the way.  

LIAM – I got excited about the possibility of being able to step back and just be with you.  And I didn’t think it through, you’re right.  I will come up with something, I promise.

HEATHER – Ok.  

SERVANT – Your majesty, your car is ready.

HEATHER – Thank you. Liam, I’ll be back later.  

LIAM – I will be here.

Heather leaves and drives to Drake’s apartment.

Drake opens the door for Heather when she arrives.  She plops down on the couch.

DRAKE – Rough morning?

HEATHER – The morning has been ok…last night was a whole different story.  I can’t take this anymore Drake.  I have to get out of here.

DRAKE – So, where do you want to go?

HEATHER – Drake, can I ask you something?

DRAKE – Anything.

HEATHER – Have you ever wondered about me?  I mean like my past.  Where I grew up, my parents, things like that?

DRAKE – Maybe a little. I just never really thought to ask, I guess.  Why?

HEATHER – If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out or think of me differently?

DRAKE – Uh, ok.  Sure.

HEATHER – The times you were in Texas, have you ever heard of a place called North Fork Ranch?

DRAKE – Yeah, I think my mom mentioned it a couple times.

HEATHER – And have you ever heard of Riley Oil?

DRAKE – Vaguely.  Why the sudden interest in Texas?

HEATHER – Because that’s where I’m from.  Texas.

DRAKE – I thought you were from New York.

HEATHER – I moved to New York when I was 17, my junior year in high school.  After…after my parents died.

DRAKE – So you had family there?  

HEATHER – No.  I just moved.  I had to get away and New York always seemed so cool and exciting, so I found a good private school, and I moved.

DRAKE – Ok.  I’m still not quite understanding.

HEATHER – Drake, what is my name?

DRAKE – Heather.

HEATHER – My full name?

DRAKE – Heather Riley.

HEATHER – Uh huh…

DRAKE – Riley…Riley Oil…you’re Heather Riley.  Oh my God. You’re Riley Oil.

HEATHER – Yeah.

Drake just stares at her for a long moment.  Looking at her like he’s seeing her for the first time.

HEATHER – Drake, say something.

DRAKE – I just…wow. Why didn’t you say something sooner?

HEATHER – Everyone was so content with me just being Heather, the broke waitress from New York. So, I went with it.  Well, that was me, but not all at the same time.  

DRAKE – This explains so much.  How you were able to afford all those gowns and events, how you knew exactly what to do and say around the nobles. You’re like American royalty.

HEATHER – Basically. At least in Dallas I was.

DRAKE – Wow. Just…wow.

HEATHER – I’m guessing this changes how you see me now, huh?

DRAKE – Actually…no. I mean, you’re still the same person you were a few minutes ago.  Just with a whole lot more money.  Holy crap, you’re just as rich as Liam.  I mean Riley Oil is worth hundreds of billions of dollars.

HEATHER – Yeah.

DRAKE – Wow.  But you’re still so…normal.

HEATHER – Well, I was away from all that for 10 years before I moved here.

DRAKE – True. Huh.  Thanks for telling me.  Why the sudden interest to share your past?

HEATHER – I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about going back.  Back to Texas.  Back to the ranch.

DRAKE – Ah.  Does Liam know?

HEATHER – About me leaving or about my past?

DRAKE – Both?

HEATHER – He knows I want to go somewhere, but he doesn’t know where. And you are the only one here I have told about anything from my past. Daniel is the only other person who knows everything.

DRAKE – Oh wow.  You trust me that much?

HEATHER – Of course. After everything we’ve been through, honestly I should have told you sooner.

DRAKE – Huh.  So, when are you leaving?

HEATHER – I don’t know yet. Soon.  Like maybe in the next couple days.  I don’t want to use the royal jet because then Liam will be able to track where I went. And it’s not like I can drive there.

DRAKE – True.  

HEATHER – I may call the company and see if I can borrow the corporate jet for a couple days.

DRAKE – Well, keep me posted.  I can go with if you want.

HEATHER – That would be great, but I think for now I just need to be on my own.  Well, just me and Ellie.

DRAKE – I understand.

HEATHER – So…ready to get your butt kicked on some Super Mario Bros.?

DRAKE – Oh…bring it on!!

___

Liam paced the floor in the grand ballroom thinking.  Last night’s effort to prove himself to Heather was a complete failure.  He needed to do something to show her how much she truly meant to him.  Then inspiration hit him.  He called for a servant.

SERVANT – Yes, your majesty?

LIAM – I want to plan a surprise for the queen.  I’ll need a cake just like the one we had at our wedding.  Chocolate mocha with buttercream frosting, designed exactly the way we had our cake.

SERVANT – Of course, sir. When would you like it?

LIAM – As soon as they can get it here.  I’ll also need all the peach roses you can get and have them set up here in the ballroom.

SERVANT – Of course. I’ll call the florist right away.

LIAM – And, Heather’s dress she wore at the reception.  Could you get that and have it in her room ready for her to wear?

SERVANT – Definitely. I know exactly where it is, sir.

LIAM – And two bottles of our wine that we had at the wedding, chilled with two glasses.

SERVANT – Is there anything else, sir?

LIAM – Music.  We’ll need music.  And possibly something to eat.  I’ve got it…a simple pasta with red sauce for two.

SERVANT – I will start making the preparations right away.  When would you like everything set up, sir?

LIAM – As soon as possible. I don’t know how long Heather will be gone and I’d like to have it all ready when she returns.

SERVANT – We’ll have it ready your majesty.

LIAM – Thank you.

Liam clasps his hands behind his back, a small satisfied smile on his face. Recreating their wedding reception, but just for the two of them.  Without the kidnapping and threat of imminent death, of course.  And the meal they shared together at the Beaumont estate as their first date.  

LIAM – Oh…Heather’s sword. We’ll need that as well to cut the cake. If I’m doing this, I may as well go all the way.

About an hour later delivery trucks begin arriving at the palace.  Workers bring in vases upon vases of peach roses and line them along the walls of the ballroom. The baker delivers a perfect replica of their wedding cake and sets it up on a table along one side.  Liam places Heather’s sword in front of the cakes. Heather’s dress is laying on their bed waiting.  The music is ready.  Liam has the remote in his pocket.  A cook from the kitchen finds Liam pacing in the ballroom.

COOK – The items you requested for the meal are ready your majesty.  I can have everything ready in about 15 minutes when you tell us you’re ready.

LIAM – Excellent. Thank you.

Everything was coming together nicely.  Now he needed to change.  Digging through the closet in the bedroom he found the white formal suit he wore for their wedding and put it on.  He headed back down to the ballroom.  The servants were finishing setting up.  One small table was set up with two chairs. Two taper candles and a small bouquet of peach roses sat on the table. The swirling colored lights glowed and swayed across the dance floor.

SERVANT – Is there anything else you require your majesty?

LIAM – When the queen arrives, could you please make sure she goes straight up to the bedroom and changes into her dress?  Then have someone escort her here.

SERVANT – Of course sir.

Liam looked at his watch. It was almost noon.  He didn’t want to rush her if she was busy, but he was also getting anxious to show her his surprise.  He decided to send her a message to check on her.

TEXT TO HEATHER – My darling, will you be much longer?  I wondered if we could have lunch together.

Then…he waited.

_____

DRAKE – Seriously? What is that 10 times you���ve kicked my butt?  Ok…I give up. You are the Mario Bros. master.

HEATHER – I told you I was good at this.  Not my fault you didn’t believe me.

DRAKE – And here I thought I was your friend, not your whipping boy.

HEATHER – Ha ha ha ha ha. Only when it comes to Mario Bros. How’s that?

DRAKE – Fine.  You getting hungry?

(Heather’s phone buzzes.)

HEATHER – Yeah, actually. Ugh...hang on a sec.

Heather checks her phone and reads the message from Liam.

HEATHER – Rain check on lunch?  Liam wants to have lunch together.

DRAKE – Sure.  Still giving him a chance, huh?

HEATHER – I told him I’d give him 24 hours.  He has 3 left.  Might as well go with it.

DRAKE – Alright.  Talk to you later.

Heather leaves Drake’s apartment and drives back to the palace.  She parks the car in front and gets out heading to the door.  A servant opens the door for her before she can reach the handle.

SERVANT – Welcome home your majesty.  If you would follow me, please.

HEATHER – Um, ok.

The servant leads Heather up to the bedroom.

SERVANT – The king requested you wear the dress laid out for you.  When you’re ready I will escort you to the ballroom.

HEATHER – The ballroom? Is there some spontaneous ball I wasn’t informed about?

SERVANT – No ma’am. Just let me know when you’re ready.

HEATHER – Uh, ok.

Heather closes the door to the bedroom and sees her reception dress laying on the bed.

HEATHER – What the heck is going on?  Why does he want me to wear this? Hopefully it still fits.

Heather changes into the white sparkling dress.  It fit perfectly.  She finds some white shoes in the closet and puts those on.  She touches up her makeup and fixes her hair a little more formally. Then she opens the door where the servant is waiting for her.

SERVANT – Right this way ma’am.

The servant leads Heather to the doors of the ballroom.  She knocks, then leaves Heather alone in front of the large double doors.

Liam opens the door. When he sees Heather standing there in her dress, he almost faints.

LIAM – You look absolutely breathtaking my love.

Heather notices Liam is wearing his formal suit from their wedding.  He looks gorgeous…to the point she’s speechless.

Liam takes her hand and leads her into the ballroom.  As she scans the room, candles and roses line the walls, a small table for two sits in the center of what would normally be the large seating area.  Everything looks amazing.

HEATHER – What is all this?

LIAM – I wanted to surprise you.  Happy Anniversary my darling.  I know it’s a little late, and I am so very sorry for that.

HEATHER – Liam, this is beautiful.  Is that our wedding cake?

LIAM – Yes.  I tried to recreate everything.  Well, the good parts.  I guarantee there will be no kidnapping and no assassination attempts. Only you and me, together.

Liam leads Heather to the table and pulls out the chair for her to sit down.  He sits down I the chair opposite her and the cook brings out the two dishes of simple pasta.

HEATHER – This looks like the dinner we had at the Beaumont estate.  Our first date you called it.

LIAM – Exactly.  I wanted everything to be perfect, just like you.

HEATHER – Liam, this…this is absolutely amazing.  I…I don’t know what to even say.

LIAM – You don’t have to say anything.  As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.

When they finish eating, Liam stands and extends his hand to Heather.  She takes it and he leads her to the dance floor.  He pushes the play button on the remote in his pocket.  

LIAM – May I have this dance?  (Bryan Adams – Everything I Do begins playing)

HEATHER – I would love to.

Liam holds Heather in his arms as they sway to the music.  Holding her so close, he actually begins to feel a little nervous and shakes a little.

HEATHER – Are you ok? You’re shaking.

LIAM – I’m fine.  Just a little nervous actually.

HEATHER – Why are you nervous?

LIAM – I haven’t been this close to you in quite a while.  Which is my own fault, I know.  I just forgot how good it feels to hold you like this.  I feel like I did the first time I saw you all those years ago in New York.  You took my breath away then, and you still do now.

HEATHER – Liam…

As the song begins to fade they pull apart just a bit.  Liam stares down into Heather’s eyes.  A soft, sweet smile on his face as he soaks in every feature of her face.

LIAM – You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life.  I promise you here and now that I will never take you for granted again.  I love you, Heather.

HEATHER – I love you too.

Liam cups his hand on the side of Heather’s cheek pulling her mouth up to him.  He kisses her gently, closing his eyes and floating with the touch of her lips against his.  His had sliding to the back of her neck, the other around her waist, holding her close, feeling her heart beat against his chest.  Heather wraps her arms around Liam as the kiss turns more and more passionate and heated.  She begins to grab and bunch up the back of his jacket with her fingers as their tongues touch and swirl together.  She lets out a soft moan.  After what seems like forever and mere seconds, they part, staring at each other.

HEATHER – There you are.

LIAM – Here I am.  And I’m not going anywhere.  At least not anywhere without you right by my side, always.

HEATHER – I missed this. I almost forgot how hot you are. And how good it feels to be in your arms and kiss you like that.

LIAM – Me too.

Liam gives Heather a small seductive smirk, then kisses her again, sliding his hands down her back to her hips.

Heather begins to melt into Liam.  His kiss reminded her of their first kiss that day in Paris.  Heat and desire emanating from him.  Her legs began to go weak. The room disappeared around her.  The only thing grounding her were his lips and tongue against hers.  She hadn’t felt this much intensity, this much desire, this much pure need in a long time.  With great hesitation, she pulls away from him, staring deeply into his sparkling brown eyes.

HEATHER – Upstairs…Now.

LIAM – I was hoping you would say that.

Liam grabs Heather’s hand as they leave the ballroom and head upstairs to their bedroom.  A servant sees them and begins to say something. Heather holds up a hand to silence the servant as they make their way up the stairs.

Once inside the room, the door is barely closed before Liam practically jumps at Heather, kissing her with such heat, passion and desire that she is nearly knocked over.  Their lips parted, tongues intertwined, caressing each other. They each begin working the fastenings of each other’s clothes without breaking the kiss. Touching and rubbing each other’s newly exposed bare skin.

When their clothes have finally been removed and thrown all over the room, Liam holds Heather tightly in his arms, sliding his hands gently down her body from her shoulders, down her back, to her hips and buttocks.  A small moan of pleasure escapes him.

Heather slides her hands down the front of Liam, his shoulders, his strong muscular chest, and down further.

LIAM – Oh my God I want you.

HEATHER – Then come have me.

With her hand slowing rubbing and gliding up and down Liam’s hardness, she leads him to the bed. Kissing and running their hands all over each other, he lays her down, then starts kissing her entire body starting with her feet, up her calves, her thighs, then up in between.  She arches her back, leaning up into him.  The feel of his tongue and lips against her fuels the passion within her even more.  She closes her eyes only to see fireworks start going off behind her eyelids.  Just as the pleasure is about to overwhelm her, he slides up the rest of her body and slides himself inside of her.

The comfort of feeling him inside her again almost puts her over the edge instantly.  Heather wraps her legs around Liam’s waist and he begins rocking his hips against her.  They begin moving together as if molded to fit perfectly.  The intensity of passion and desire coming together with each thrust. After several minutes Liam quickens his pace readying himself for the release of pure pleasure.  Heather joins him and they both let out moans of ecstasy.

Liam slowly lays down beside Heather, holding her close in his arms, her head on his chest.  He takes deep breaths breathing in the sweet sensual smell of her. After a few minutes, Heather bolts up in bed.

HEATHER – There was cake downstairs.

LIAM – Yes, there is cake downstairs.

HEATHER – Let’s spring Ellie early from her lessons and have cake.

LIAM – That sounds wonderful.

[spunky-89]

Love and War

A/N: Heyyyyy, I feel like this is the only way I start a post but... I’m not dead yet. Moving Sucks. I want it to be over....... I have been trying to write a little bit when I have a spare moment (which is not often). I did finally finish this though, so that’s something. And the funniest part is this is not any of the one-shots I had planned :/ 

Anyway, enjoy :) 

Masterlist

Word Count: 3k(ish)

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You and Jordan had been together for years. You had met him in a rehab center for vets. You know, the ones they force you to stay at after you come home to make sure you're okay. Though you two were in different branches, Jordan being Army and yourself being Airforce, you clicked almost instantly. The two of you spent some time getting to know each other, and within a few months, you had decided to stick together. You were both unsure of what to do with your lives, but you knew you wanted a fresh start. So when Jordan recommended California, you didn't hesitate.

So once he got his spot on a police force in a smaller town in southern California, you were off. You decided to get a degree, the military paying for it. You weren't really sure what you wanted a degree in, but you had some time to figure it out while you got your Associates. You had joined the force straight out of High School so you hadn't taken a college class of any kind. Luckily you were a pretty good student back in high school, so you hoped it hadn't all been forgotten in 5 years. 

But that was a different problem than the one you were dealing with now. Unpacking and stocking your new apartment. Though you had already been in Beacon Hills for a few months, you were doing this very slowly, not sure how to proceed.

You and Jordan had very little belongings and didn't have much in the way of household stuff, so you had to buy quite a bit of stuff. The biggest issue was you were not a domestic person. I.E, you didn't cook or clean very well. It's not that you hated it or anything, your shitty mom didn't really set an example or teach you these things. You were learning, but it was a slow process. Even slower was figuring out what you needed and where the best prices were. Which Jordan was supposed to be helping you with, but he was MIA. Which was kinda worrying you.

Jordan had confided in you that he was worried because someone had made a kill list, one that included kids. He wanted to stop it, but he didn't know how.

Now that he was missing, you got worried. So you called the sheriff's station.

"Beacon County Sheriff's department, how can I help you?" A female voice answered.

"Hi, this is (y/f/n), I'm deputy Parrish's girlfriend. Is he still at the station? He called me over an hour ago saying he was on his way home but hasn't arrived. I'm just a bit worried with all these murders happening…"

“Please calm down ma’am, I am not sure if he went home yet but I will check with the Sheriff.” She replied in a calming voice.

She put you on hold and you took that time to start shoving your feet into your boots and grabbing your thick leather jacket to keep you warm. You also grabbed your guns. Though you were hoping you wouldn’t need them. You had your keys in your hand and were standing by your car, ready to go if they said Jordan wasn’t at the station. 

The phone came off of the hold tone about two minutes later, and this time, a male voice spoke.

“This is Sheriff Stilinski, one of my officers told me you were Parrish’s girlfriend and you think he’s missing?” 

“Is he there or not, I really am not in the mood for pleasantries right now.”

“Okay calm down.” He said.

“So he’s not there, great.” You snapped as you hung up the phone and jumped in the car, peeling out as you went hunting for any sign of your boyfriend. 

You immediately followed the way he always took to and from work. When you still couldn’t find him, you started to think like a killer, not a regular worried girlfriend. As you were driving, you noticed a massive inferno shoot into the sky. You had a gut feeling so you headed towards it, tires screeching and engine roaring. You noticed an empty parking lot where a car was blazing. It took you only a moment to realize it was a police cruiser. You screeched to a halt, barely turning off the car before exiting, your one handgun in your hand, the other tucked into your jacket. You kept your gun up and looked to see who was around. You noticed a man running from the burning car and towards his own car. Another cruiser. You heard your boyfriend screaming in pain. You had to make a split-second decision. Luckily, the military had taught you how to think on your feet. So you shot out the other officer’s tires and headed for the burning car. The car was engulfed. You were desperate to get your lover out, but you couldn’t figure out a way without likely dying yourself. You screamed his name as you saw him go limp in the car. 

You saw red.

You turned towards the other cop car and looked for the murder. You saw him scrunching down in his car, probably trying to find a way out. But that wasn’t going to happen on your watch. You walked away from the wreckage, using your rage to center yourself and focus on the current situation. Which was making sure this man paid for what he did. When he saw your form coming towards him, you saw the panic on his face and you smiled. You slowly walked towards the car. You could see him fumbling for his gun, but he was too slow. You used the butt of your gun to smash the window and unlock the door. As you opened the door to drag him out, he kicked you in the stomach which pushed you back a few feet. This gave him a moment to charge at you and knock you to the ground. Your head slammed into the asphalt but you used your pain to fuel you (also the adrenaline is the best pain reliever). You quickly grabbed him, kneed his balls, and used his distraction to roll him over. You had dropped your gun so you couldn't use it to knock him out, so you did the next best thing. You kept slamming his head into the ground. You didn't realize, but he had kept his gun and he tried to pistol-whip you, which made you disoriented for a moment, but that was all he needed. He then pulled the gun forward and shot your side. He pushed you off of him and started running to your car. But even with the pain, you rolled to grab your gun and before he had even made it halfway across the lot, you shot his leg. You made sure it wouldn't be lethal, but it would stop him from running. And it did as he fell flat on his face. You mustered your strength and stood up to walk over to him. He was moaning on the ground gripping his leg. You quickly kneed him in the head and he was out you muttered 'pathetic' under your breath. 

Once you got the asshole tied up (making sure to cut off the blood flow, and since it was only a surface wound you weren't too worried) you shoved him into your trunk. You did a quick dressing for your side to stop the bleeding. And with one last look at the burning car, you peeled out of the parking lot, forcing yourself to look away from the inferno in your rearview. As much as you wished you had gotten there sooner, you couldn't change what had happened. You could only get justice for the man who murdered your everything. 

Luckily the police station was only a short drive from where you were so you got there in no time. You pulled up rapidly, which made your tires squeal as you hit the breaks and parked directly in front of the doors. The sheriff and two teenagers quickly walked out. You got out of your car and barely gave them a look as you walked to the back of your car. You popped open the trunk, ignoring the sheriff who was yelling for you to stop moving and put your hands up. Once it was open, you looked over at the sheriff, tears running down your cheeks and said,

"He is a murderer and it took every ounce of self-control I have to not kill him on site. But I figured a quick death wasn't punishment enough."

You stepped back with your hand one hand up, the other gripping your bleeding side. 

The teenage boy exclaimed "holy shit!"

"Do you want to start explaining why you have one of my deputies in your trunk bleeding and tied up?" The Sheriff asked, his gun still pointed at you. 

Tears still streaming you said, "This bastard just burned Jordan alive." 

"Wait, Parrish is dead?" The girl asked.

You nodded, your head bowed. You were constantly switching from rage to intense grief and sadness. And with a look at the man in your trunk the rage came back and you screamed,

"This fucker didn't just kill him. He put him through hell before he finally-" 

Your voice broke before you could say the word you didn't want to think about.

"All for money. He just killed the love of my life for money. And all I could do was stand there and-and watch him burn." You murmured lowly.

The girl came over and took you by the shoulders, leading you into the station. 

Slowly the adrenaline started to fade and you felt the weight of the night hit you hard. And your mind became unfocused.  It was running through your memories, regrets, and what you had dreamed of for your future.

You hadn't realized, too stuck in your head, but the young female had sat you on a couch and was speaking soothing words. 

You had no idea how much time had passed, but when your focus started coming back, you half-heard a conversation.

"...hasn't moved or reacted to anything." You heard a female voice.

"It's a frequent thing…. shock or …. PTSD… mile stare… watched him…. Soldier…" this was a male voice speaking, he sounded young.

"Stiles….side." it was the female voice again, she sounded panicked. 

"Oh shit…. Bleeding really bad…. Hospital?.. I don't know wh…."

You heard a loud bang and jumped to your feet, pulling your gun from your belt and aimed it towards the noise. You then started swaying and dropped your gun due to the immediate pain in your side.

"Whoa whoa, hey, take it easy." The younger man said as he gently guided you back to the couch. You hissed in pain as your side was still sending shockwaves of pain through you.

"I'm fine, I've had worse." You said and gritted your teeth before standing and picking up your gun before creeping toward the door and cracking it open. You could hear the sheriff talking to someone, but it was too muffled to pick up the words. You cracked open the door ever so slightly. Your gun pointed out and just one eye peeking through. You didn’t see anything, but you could hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

“...you okay?.... Happened…. Dead…” you could only hear the sheriff, you had no idea who he was talking to but you intended to find out. You turned your head to the two kids behind you and whispered: “stay here.”

The boy went to argue, but you shut him down with a look. And you had a feeling it was more terrifying than usual due to the blood you were most likely covered in.

You crept out of the room, leaving it slightly cracked. You stuck to the walls and kept your steps near silent. As you got closer and could hear the other person, your heart stopped. You swore it sounded like….

You rounded the last bend with your gun pointed out in front of you and you nearly dropped your gun when you saw who the sheriff was talking to. You just managed to place your gun on a nearby desk before you launched yourself at the man in front of you.

"Whoa- oh." He seemed shocked until he realized it was you and he gripped you tight in return. You started crying again, not being able to help it.

"Oh god, I thought- I-I.. I watched you burn. I heard you screaming.” You sobbed into his chest.

“Shhh, I know,” Jordan spoke softly as he clutched you tighter. “I’m so happy to see you. All I could think about was you.” he murmured into your hair.

You pulled back from his chest and looked him over. He was covered in soot, his clothes were all but gone, but he was there. 

You glanced at the sheriff, then back to Jordan. 

“Is this real, am I hallucinating?” You asked aloud.

Jordan chuckled and pulled you back in, “No, it’s not a hallucination. I promise you I am as real as it gets.”

You heard shoes skidding to a halt behind you.

"Parrish? You're alive?" You heard the sheriff's son ask.

"Yeah, and I get the feeling things are going to get a lot more complicated." He said. As he shifted you to the side, keeping you in his hold, you hissed in pain. And the pain you'd pushed to the back of your mind came back.

"What's wrong?" He asked looking down to your side.

"Uh I may have been shot…" you got out with a grimace. 

"Okay. Are you patched up?"

"Nope."

He gave you a look and immediately lifted you into his arms to sit you on a desk. He moved your jacket and shirt away, then pulled off the shitty dressing from the bloody wound.

"You stupid, reckless, silly woman." He sighed looking up to your face.

"Yeah, I know." You said unapologetically with a smile. "Hospital or can you just stitch me up?"

Jordan proceeded to closely examine the wound.

"Looks like it was just a graze, but you've been bleeding for a while."

You groaned at the thought of having to go to the hospital.

"I'll make you a deal, I'll stitch you up but first thing tomorrow we go get you checked out and make sure you're okay." 

You squinted at him as he gave you that stupidly soft look that melted you every time. And he knew it. 

"Stop. No. I'm not gonna look at you." You said firmly as you closed your eyes and turned your head away.

You heard him shift while laughing lightly. "You are such a child." You could hear the smile in his voice. 

"Don't care, I won't look at you."

"Do you agree or do I have to wrestle you into the car and take you to the hospital now?" You could hear the smugness and you could imagine him staring at you with soft eyes, arms crossed and standing straight.

You looked at the floor and murmured a "fuck you…. smug asshole"

He laughed and patted your thigh.

"I'm going to clean up and then we'll get you stitched up and head home."

As he left to grab whatever clothes he could find and clean up, the two teenagers approached. The boy looked at you with awe and an intense look that said he had 800 questions. The girl followed behind looking slightly intrigued but clearly in a different way than the boy.

"Hey so that was crazy and you did a hell of a job on him and dad already gave him a quick patch but he's been whimpering since he woke up. What happened, how did you get shot? How are you-" you cut the young boy off by raising your hand and giving him a look. "Right, sorry."

You gave a half laugh as you shook your head.

"First of little Stilinski, why are you so interested and second why were you and your girlfriend here this late anyway?"

They both sputtered and tried to get out that they weren't a thing but you had a feeling if they really weren't together, they would soon.

You just chuckled and gave them a look. The girl then stepped up next to him and started talking.

"Look a lot is going on right now. We came here to talk to Stiles' father about something and that's when you pulled up." She said as if that answered everything. From the look of her and the brief description Jordan had given you, you figured this had to be Lydia. The girl he thought was a psychic.

"Hmm, Lydia is it?" You asked but didn't give her a chance to confirm nor deny, "If you think that is going to satisfy me clearly you aren't as smart as Jordan described. I was in the Airforce for a long time and had more training than you can fathom. With this, I know when someone is trying to hide something." 

"That's not what she was trying to do. And we don't know you, so we're not just going to tell you about all the things happening in our lives." Little Stilinski said, jumping to Lydia's aid.

"And you know what, that's fine. I don't need to know about your teen drama. But. I do have the right to know what's going on when it involves Jordi." You said, a look of fierce determination.

"You know I hate that nickname," Jordan said as he reentered the room.

"No you don't, you love it." You said with a soft smile.

"No I really don't, but I love you so I guess it's the same."

[yamadadzawa]

/rubs hands together/ Since you want to talk about Kai and I would love to listen to you talk about Kai, time for some asks!!! Ok so, for the "asks that reveal more than you think", hows about we do... 1, 7, 10, 12, and 30! And for the "jumbo asks" one let's do... 🍒, 📙, 📀, 🌳, 💙, and 💗!

Most of these I’m going to answer from the perspective of Kai as he is in Terminal Velocity, because while the Kai in Rebel in the Gray is still the same character, he took a different path at a specific point in his story that has of course made some adjustments to his characterization. 

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Kai absolutely has several like, giant squishmallows that he would sleep with, because SOFT. His favorite would be either a shark one or a cat! 

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

I would describe my boy as loving, protective, and badass. I think he would describe himself as stubborn, funny, and we’d overlap on protective. 

10. What age do they most want to be right now?

Kai is more than happy with his age of 38! He doesn’t really have any desire to go back to his younger days, and while he looks forward to the future, he’s not anxious to reach any specific age ahead of him. 

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Kai is definitely a romantic, though he’s a stickler for seeing good romance. He wants to see that bond of friendship form before the romance kicks in. He would definitely lean into the rule for stories where, if your characters have to kiss for you to show that they’re in love, were they actually in love to begin with. 

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

This one is a bit tricky for me, I’m having a hard time thinking of something! Like, I can’t see Kai doing something hurtful (to someone who doesn’t deserve it) just because he knows he’d be forgiven. Although! Actually something does come to mind: vigilantism. In Rebel, Kai is already a vigilante, and I would consider that something that is forgiven by a lot of civilians in the bnha universe. In Terminal Velocity though, there will come a point where Kai has to consider vigilantism as an option, and one of his arguments to himself for potentially doing it would be that he knows Nedzu, Aizawa, and others, would forgive him for it.  

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🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

Regardless of whether a relationship is romantic or platonic, Kai expects respect and communication. He really does live by the rule of treating others how he wants to be treated, and he’s old enough and has experienced enough relationships that he would much rather sit down and talk about something rather than fight about it because it didn’t get addressed sooner. 

In the past, Kai has been a doormat. He has definitely had toxic relationships, where people expected him to be the rock, the source of stability, because of his personality and the way he presents himself. These people were subsequently not there for him when he was suffering and needed them to return the favor. He doesn’t put up with that kind of thing now. I wouldn’t call Kai “demanding”, I would say that Kai sets boundaries, and expects people to respect them, because he respects the boundaries of others. 

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?What things bore your OC to tears and they couldn’t care less about? Why?

Kai could talk for hours about: cooking/food culture, quirk combat, and specifically related to his background and current position working at UA-trauma informed care. The most recent chapter of Terminal Velocity pretty much shows that Kai will cook just for fun! He’ll also create art or sing for fun, and while he’s decent at these things, he does them more for fun than to be “good” at them. 

I wouldn’t say that this topic *bores* Kai, but it is something that he has a hard time talking about: politics within heroics. He has very personal, horrific experiences with this, and he could easily talk about the problems for hours, but he would also get irritated, and uncomfortable, and reach a point where he couldn’t stand to talk about it anymore. 

As for topics that actually bore him, anything related to business, finances, investments, etc. He’ll learn the bare minimum he needs to in order to function as an adult, but otherwise he hates it. 

📀 How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

I think these things depend on context! I think for something harmless and playful, it might be easier to shock or confuse him. When it comes to actual lying and manipulation, because of Kai’s experience when he was a hero in the States, he’s very good at catching when he’s being lied to, or when someone is attempting to manipulate him. 

Kai takes trust very seriously. He does not trust easily, but once someone has earned his trust, he’s all in. Kai himself is absolutely trustworthy, as long as it’s someone he’s like, actually aligned with. As in, the people Kai is close to and loyal to can absolutely trust him. But someone like Endeavor, who Kai loathes, would absolutely not be able to trust him haha. 

🌳 Compare your OC to themself from 10 years ago. How has their mental state changed since then, how have they aged and grown up? Would they say they’re in a better place than they were back then or do they need help? What advice would they give their younger self? What advice would their younger self give to them now?

So much as changed for Kai in 10 years. 14 or 15 years ago is when Nedzu helped Kai and his fathers relocate to Japan from the States, and at that point Kai was in a bad place. 10 years ago, Kai would have been getting better, but still bitter and angry about what happened in the States. He would have been struggling with the fact that he couldn’t finish what he started. 

His mental state has absolutely improved from there. He’s learned to recognize and appreciate what he *was* able to do, and has seen the impact that he had. He also learned to redirect his energy to what he can do now, to accept the past and focus on the present and the future. Hence his attitude in the latest Terminal Velocity chapter, about making days special just because. 

As for advice for his younger self, I think Kai would tell his younger self to find allies, to not try and take so much on alone. Kai’s younger self would be good at reminding his older self to never let his guard down. 

💙 What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently working to achieve this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

I think, like a lot of kids in the bnha universe, Kai grew up very interested in becoming a hero. I think he likely started out wanting to be like daylight heroes, until he started school and discovered the value of underground heroics. I think outside of his career as a hero, Kai has an ongoing dream to continue learning how to cook food from different places in the world. 

Kai definitely gave up his vision of what being a hero would be when he left the States though. He may have, at one point, had a dream of getting to actually fix the mess he got himself into, that is no longer attainable or part of his life. 

💗 What would your OC say is their best feature? Why? What do their friends / family / lover(s) / people they know think is their best feature and why?

I think Kai would probably say either his stubbornness or his protectiveness are his best features, since those things for him go hand in hand. As far as most things go, Kai is an easy going guy, but on the issues or things he cares about, Kai does not budge. We’ve seen that most notably with his security policies, and his unwillingness to budge for Endeavor. A big part of that stubbornness that came through is because of Kai feeling protective towards Shouta, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. I think Kai would also point out that his hair is pretty great, and he has a nice butt, because he’s not above flaunting his own prettiness. 

I think Kai’s friends/loved ones would agree on all of the above.