#if it were quieter it wouldn’t be as easily detected…

[chromaji]

what’s funny is that, for the first half of the stream, I decided to play the snes version of smrpg’s music on stream because i feared nintendo shenanigans if i played the switch OST.

…

of course, I failed to think of whether the code vfd OST had any copyright issues, so the later part of the stream looks like this

[eiightysixbaby]

baby, it’s cold outside

i ought to say no, no, no sir — at least i’m gonna say that i tried!

eddie munson x fem!reader

3.6k

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. mutual pining, friends to lovers, eddie convinces reader to stay but he’s not a creep - she’s just nervous, one (1) singular use of y/n, brief mentions of alcohol and weed consumption, protected piv sex, fingering. barely proofread so i apologize in advance if there's mistakes xoxo love u guys.

“No, really! I’m serious,” you laugh, tears springing from the creases in the corners of your eyes. “I had the biggest crush on him,” you add, taking a tiny hit of the joint between your fingers before letting it rest in the ash tray.

The warmth from the tiny space-heater in Eddie’s living room kisses your cheeks, your fingers warming up where they wrap around your mug of spiked cider. You shift your weight on the worn cushions of the sofa, tucking one leg beneath you. You’re home from college for the holidays, catching up with all of your closest friends. Steve had hosted at his place, and when the party died down there Eddie had offered that you come back to his.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” the boy grins, shaking his head as he takes a swig of his beer.

“Yeah, well… I don’t know. We were in high school. Everything feels like such a big deal when you’re in high school. I felt like that crush could’ve been the end of the world if word got out,” you giggle, leaning your head back against the cushions behind you.

“I get what you mean,” he says, leaning to knock his shoulder with yours. “I just can’t believe I didn’t know,” he says, glancing sideways at you. “You weren’t always subtle, you know.”

You shove him, snorting out another laugh.

“Okay, so who was your high school crush?” you ask him, tilting your head to face him, a playful grin on your face.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he says easily.

“That’s the obvious one,” you roll your eyes. “We all knew that. Robin never let you live it down. I want your secret crush, one you never told anyone about. You have to have one,” you pry.

Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. His eyes shift away from yours, his beer bottle raising to his mouth to take another sip. A way to avoid his answer.

“Well,” he says, his voice gravelly. “It was, uh, it was… you, actually.” He’s quieter now, less sure of himself than you’ve maybe ever seen him. Your heart twists inside of your chest.

“What!?” you ask, sitting upright. You didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but it certainly caught you off guard.

“Forget it, it’s stupid,” Eddie retreats, trying to laugh it off. You stop him, though, reaching out to put a hand on his knee.

“No, no. It’s not stupid. I just… I had no idea,” you say, emphasizing the last few words.

“Yeah. It’s like you said, I thought it would’ve been the end of the world if you found out,” he laughs a little, but you detect a twinge of sadness behind it.

“Eddie…” you say. “You could’ve told me. I— I’m glad you told me now,” you continue, rubbing a soft circle over his knee with your thumb.

“You are?” he raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah. But I have one question,” you say, drawing your hand back from him and placing it in your lap.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Do you still have feelings for me? Now?” you ask nervously, glancing back and forth between the contents of your cup and his face.

He’s quiet, searching your face.

“Would it completely ruin everything if I said yes?” he asks, so quietly. His voice a gentle hum in your ears.

Suddenly, words escape you. You feel frozen, not knowing what to say. No, it wouldn’t, is what you want to say. Kiss me, please, is what you want to demand of him. But you find yourself unable to say anything at all. His gaze is overwhelming. Your heart races in your chest. Why is this so daunting?

He’s about to speak again, his mouth opening and closing. The moment is heavy, nerves raised high. Something in you wants to run, to flee. To escape the scary precipice you teeter on, between friends and something more. You welcomed this, but now it’s too much. You glance at the clock, cursing under your breath when you see the time. An excuse.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m so sorry. It’s so late, I really should get going—” you say, scrambling to stand while you set your mug on the coffee table.

“Wait,” a firm but comforting hand grips your arm, stopping you. “Please don’t go,” he says.

“Eddie, it’s almost midnight—”

“So stay with me. Please don’t leave right now, not after what we just talked about.”

“My parents, Eddie, they’ll be worried,” you rush out, slipping on your boots at the door and opening it.

A flurry of snow falls outside, coating the cars and the dirt and what’s left of the grass. The December night air is frigid and harsh where it hits your skin.

“Oh!” you gasp, wincing at the cold.

Eddie’s stood right behind you, his arm reaching over you and pushing the door shut again.

“No way you’re driving home in that, ‘s dangerous,” he tells you.

“Maybe I’ll wait it out…” you murmur, words failing you the longer he stares at you.

Your cheeks feel hot despite the below-zero windchill. Facing Eddie is harder than it had been five minutes ago, and you’re the one who brought on the conversation. He’s so close to you, gazing down at you, his eyes pleading.

“Y/N,” he says softly. “If you want to run, I won’t stop you. But I don’t think you really do. Just tell me, is the world going to end? Or can I have you?”

“I…. Eddie—” you stammer, and you really, truly feel like your heart might hammer through your chest and land on the floor.

His eyes are so big, pools of deep brown that draw you in. You could drown in them if you looked too long, could get lost in his vastness. He’s begging without words, aching for you to say something. Nervous eyes travel over his face, watching the slight twitch of his lips and the way they part just slightly. He’s beautiful. He’s always been beautiful.

“You can have me,” you whisper.

It takes a split second before his hands find your waist, pulling you into him. He noses at your face, watching your eyelids flutter shut. Every exhale from him wafts breath over your face, warm and so incredibly him. The air that he had breathed and put back out into the open space, filling your lungs now. His lips press against yours, featherlight and testing the waters. Your body relaxes fully, mouth melting against his as you let him kiss you.

It becomes needy quickly. What started so soft and tender becomes eager, open mouths devouring each other as tongues touch.

“I had a crush on you, too—” you blurt in between kisses.

“What?” he breathes, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth and then to your cheek. The way he says it doesn’t indicate surprise, but rather he just wants to hear you say it again.

“You were my other secret crush in high school…” you confess shyly, eyes wide and blinking at him when he stops his movements abruptly.

“You really weren’t always subtle,” is all he says, smiling as he leans in to kiss you once more.

Teeth clash, both of you giggling into the kiss, your hands wandering up his chest as he holds you close to him. He tugs at the collar of your sweater, pulling you with him as he walks backwards to the couch. Straddling his lap, your hands find their way up his shirt, smoothing over his soft skin. He lets out a satisfied hum, his own hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as he lets his tongue prod into your mouth.

A soft whimper escapes you, your hips grinding on top of his. You can feel the tent in his jeans as he grows stiff beneath them, completely affected by you. It becomes increasingly obvious to you, then, the boundaries that are being crossed right now. You can’t go back after this, things are forever changed between you and Eddie.

You stop kissing him, glancing out the window at the falling snow. “Eddie—” you say, your eyes looking frantic; skittish.

“Don’t you dare tell me you have to get home. It’s cold outside, baby. The weather’s bad,” he says softly, nuzzling his face into your hair by your ear.

“What happens after we do this? Everything will be different,” you say, wishing you weren’t so nervous. So hesitant. So scared to fall completely for him and for it to end badly.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, bringing a hand up to brush his fingers along your cheek. So gentle, so slow. “We don’t have to do anything. We can take it slow,” he soothes, and you can’t help but melt into his touch.

The blizzard still rages outside, no way you can get home safely.

You rest your forehead against his, your body relaxing once more. “I’m sorry for being so jumpy. I just… I want you in my life forever.”

“You know I feel the same. I’m going to make it my life’s mission to never give you a reason to kick me out of it,” he promises, hands rubbing up and down your sides.

You sigh, rolling your hips once atop his lap. Kisses are left on your cheeks, your jawline, traveling down to your neck. Everywhere his mouth lands is set ablaze, your body giving in to him, craving more. He paws at the hem of your sweater, causing you to pull it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

“Fuck,” he mutters, taking in the sight of you.

Your bra holds your breasts perfectly, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. His hands trail up your skin, fingertips making you shudder as they dance along your torso. He caresses the swells of skin in warm hands, letting his thumbs run over the tops of each cup of your bra, dipping down to roll over your hardened nipples. A delighted, breathy noise leaves your throat, and Eddie revels in it. He wants to pull more pretty noises from you, keep you like putty in his hands.

“Can I take this off?” he asks you, dipping down to place a kiss between the curve of your breasts. His hands reach around your back, gliding along the band of your undergarment.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers tracing over the buckle on his belt.

He makes quick work of unclasping your bra, letting it rest on the floor with your sweater. His mouth immediately finds your tits, those big eyes of his glancing up at you as he sucks one nipple into his eager mouth.

You let your head fall back with a soft moan, electricity running through your veins. Your whole body is tuned into his actions, ready and waiting for more. And fuck, he’s barely doing anything yet but he’s so good. You know he’s fooled around here and there in the last few years, gained experience, but god, he’s so much better than you ever could have imagined on those late nights with your hand between your thighs. His hands and his mouth know exactly where to be at every second, making you perfectly pliant for him.

Your fingers start to undo his belt to the best of your distracted-ability, his tongue swirling around your nipple and making you dizzy with arousal. You work the button of his jeans open, fumbling with the zipper right after. You ease your weight off of him, hovering in place so he can slide the denim down till it pools around his calves.

A short, punctuated groan slips past his lips when you palm his stiff length over his boxers, his mouth now focused on your other nipple. Your short skirt does very little to keep you covered, the soft fabric riding so far up your thighs you’re almost exposed. His big palms move down to squeeze them, fingertips grazing beneath your skirt. You whine, bucking your hips slightly, encouraging him to move his fingers higher.

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” he coos, his mouth so close to your ear, hands rubbing the expanse of your thighs. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna take good care of you.”

It sends shivers down your spine, the way he talks to you. So unaccustomed to hearing him speak this way, and still in disbelief that he’s speaking this way to you — doing these things to you. His hands bunch your skirt up as far as it will go, fingernails dragging along your sheer black tights. He snags them, leaving a run in the material.

“Oops,” he says, smug as his hands climb your thighs, reaching closer and closer to your core. There’s still too many layers between him and you for your liking. Your tights and panties, his boxers concealing his cock.

“Eddieee,” you whine, squirming on his lap.

“What, sweet girl? Where do you need me?” he asks, voice so sugary sweet as he blinks at you, lashes fluttering.

You huff, brows furrowing in desperation. “Do you need me… here?” he asks, letting his fingers trail over your clothed core. They tease, cupping your sex and rubbing soft patterns on the skin.

“Yeah, please Eddie,” you gasp, your hands planting firmly on his shoulders to brace yourself.

“Take everything off for me, baby, yeah?” he suggests, watching intently when you stand momentarily to strip.

You’re grateful for the warmth coming from the small heater, the chill from outside slipping in through the cracks of the trailer’s windows being warded off to the best of the equipment’s ability. You come to straddle Eddie once more, one of his hands immediately grabbing your waist, the other making its way back to your cunt. He ghosts his fingertips over your clit, making your hips jerk ever so slightly. He laughs lowly, not mocking you but instead basking in the spell he has you under in this moment.

His index finger runs through your folds, collecting the wetness that waits for him. “Christ, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours for another kiss.

His tongue pushes gently past your lips right as he slips a finger inside of you, making you moan into his mouth. He swallows your sounds gratefully, his finger curling inside your walls to hopefully bring on more.

“Need more, Eddie,” you beg, grinding yourself on him. He obliges easily, slipping a second finger inside.

The way he stretches you is divine, it feels far too good to have you worrying any longer. You don’t care that one of your best friends has you naked on his lap, you don’t care about what your other friends will think, you don’t care that it’s late and you haven’t called home. You don’t care. He pumps his fingers in and out expertly, your arousal filling the trailer with lewd, wet noises. Your mouths move hastily against one another, kissing and licking and biting, making up for lost time.

“Feels so good,” you pant between kisses, making him smile.

“Yeah? You’re so gorgeous,” he praises, pressing more kisses to your face.

You feel your cheeks warm at his words, your head fuzzy. “Want— want you to fuck me,” you say softly, and he tilts his head, reading your expression.

“You sure?” he checks, stopping the movements of his fingers and instead removing them from you. He cups your face, his cheeks flushing pink when you nod.

“I’m sure,” you reply, reaching your hand down and squeezing the outline of his cock beneath cotton fabric.

He inhales, sharp and fast, his eyes half-closing in pleasure.

“Okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you lay down?” he asks, patting the cushion beside him.

You both maneuver your bodies, you lying on the sofa as he comes to hover over you. A condom had been pulled from his wallet, and he opens the packet with his teeth as he shimmies out of his boxers. You watch in awe as his cock springs free, the size of it surprising you. Your eyes are trained on him as he rolls the condom on, his fingers making quick work of it.

“Like what you see?” he asks, catching the area your eyes are glued to.

All you can do is nod, redirecting your eyes to the smirk on his face. Goosebumps rise on your skin, the icy wind blowing stronger outside now, more persistent in the way it penetrates the trailer walls. Eddie notices, standing up and pulling the thick knit blanket from the armchair in the corner of the room. He returns to the couch, positioning himself on top of you and awkwardly fixating the blanket over both of your bodies with your assistance.

It’s warm, and it’s safe, and it makes your heart swell.

“You ready?” he says quietly, kissing you on the cheek and then the forehead.

“Yeah,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him sweetly, letting your tongue take control this time.

He exhales heavily as he starts to push in, his head breaching your folds and making you both moan. His forehead rests atop yours, strong arms caging you in as he holds himself up. He moves slowly, filling you inch by inch and paying careful attention to your reactions. Your lips part, no sound coming out as he bottoms out inside of you. His head drops to your shoulder, shaggy hair tickling the junction between it and your neck.

“Fuck, Eddie,” you sigh, letting your body adjust to the stretch of him. It feels like he was made for you, your body quickly aching for more.

He starts moving, careful not to go too fast for you.

“Baby…” he breathes, pulling almost completely out before thrusting back in again.

Your hands slide down his back beneath the blanket, nails digging in slightly when he starts to pick up his pace. You can’t fucking believe you have him like this right now, and you think about how different this night would’ve played out if you had just gone home after leaving Steve’s. You’re grateful you didn’t; grateful to be here, being loved on by Eddie.

Your relationship blossoms into something new with each snap of his hips against yours, further solidifying the fact that you want more with him. Something deeper, something intimate.

Moans leave you in short, breathy spurts as he fucks you, filling you up over and over. He’ll slow down, taunting you with drawn out movements before he’s back to thrusting quickly, giving you whiplash. His teeth tug at your bottom lip, his nose brushing against yours. He smells so good and his skin is so warm, it only urges you closer and closer to release. Being so close to him is intoxicating, and you cry his name over and over as his cock hits that perfect spot inside of you.

“Getting close, angel?” he asks, grinning down at you when you nod. “God, you feel so fucking good around me, baby,” he says, kissing you like he simply can’t get enough.

His breathing is heavy, exertion evident in the way he fills his lungs with air. You snake a hand down your body, softly starting to rub your sensitive clit with the pad of your finger.

“Want you to cum for me, baby, give it all to me,” Eddie encourages you, your eyes screwing shut as pleasure builds and builds in the pit of your stomach.

His cock glides in and out with complete ease, your pussy soaking him. He keeps a moderate, steady pace, wanting to savor every last second of this milestone with you. You can feel yourself quickly approaching your release, rubbing more urgent circles around your clit now. Your brows are furrowed in concentration, Eddie’s breath fanning your face as he grunts with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, feeling yourself let go completely.

Your walls clench tight around him, tensing up over and over as he helps you ride out the high. “That’s it, sweet girl,” he soothes. “Did so good,” he praises as he continues to fuck into you.

He’s close, you can tell by the way his movements get less precise. You pull his face down to you, capturing his lips in what feels like the millionth kiss of the night. He kisses back urgently, pulling away only to warn you of his approaching climax.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum,” he huffs, barely giving you a few more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of the condom.

His hips stutter, and you can just barely feel the way his cock twitches as he rids himself of every drop. Both breathing heavily, he collapses on top of you, your arms wrapping around him to hold him tight. The blanket keeps the warmth locked in, his skin sweat-slick against yours.

Regaining composure, he pulls back enough to look at you.

“Did you mean it, when you said I can have you? Will you be mine?” he asks, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I’m yours.”

His grin is brighter than the sun, outshining the glow from the Christmas tree as he smiles down at you. All he can think to do is kiss you, and somehow it feels even sweeter this time.

Once you’ve both redressed, him in his pajama pants and you in his borrowed clothes, he pads into the living room with a glass of water for you.

“Oh, hey. The snowstorm’s died down,” he says, peering out the window. “You still want to try and make it home?”

“No. I want to stay right here,” you say, coming up behind him. Wrapped in a blanket, you reach your arms out, enveloping him in the warmth, too. Your face nuzzles into the space between his shoulder blades, before he turns around so he’s facing you.

“Good. Cause I really don’t want you to go,” he smiles, his dimples peeking out. “It’s still cold outside, after all. A lady like you should be safe and warm in my bed, not braving the elements.” You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his.

“You’ve convinced me. I’ll stay.”

[powdermelonkeg]

We’ve heard about cultural differences between the Links, where’s the physiological differences?

Sly for example. It wouldn’t make sense for Skyloftians to have a higher blood saturation, and it’d make them even more sleepy on the surface

Maybe everyone in Wind’s time is shorter, to make it easier for body heat to dissipate across their bodies, their skins darker

One the one hand, Hyrule’s above average night vision is a blessing coupled with his ability to see further away is a blessing. On the other, his lower bone density leads to some fussing from the others

And don’t get me started on immunisation, they travel across time and space, how are they not dead from the flu already

I assume you mean in context of Linked Universe, and I am taking this more seriously than you probably meant.

Being up in the clouds means you'd need more oxygen, so Sky's got bigger lungs. He also has to devote more energy into using said lungs, as well as being capable of a veeeeery limited form of Hylian telepathy, hence the stamina gauge (I like the blood saturation theory, but I haven't researched that enough to go with it). His appendix still does what it's supposed to, which is why he starts with six hearts (thanks @amamillalatortilla). Also worth noting, the high altitude means his voice carries better, so he'd be naturally quieter than the others.

Four's is more of a personal difference; his body adapted to the Minish portals, so he never developed any growth spurts past the first time he jumped into one.

Time did the opposite; the repeated time travel kicked him into overdrive, and he hit all his growth spurts early and intensely. Combine that with the Fierce Deity mask, and...yeah. Tall boi.

Legend and Twilight, having swapped between dimensions and forms a LOT, are more highly attuned to sensing rifts between said worlds than others, and can sort of feel when spirits are around. Not nearly as intensely as Wild can with hidden Koroks, but they can tell pretty well when something's awry.

Legend has a resistance to magic, too, but that's more a result of using magic so often than something that happened to him naturally.

Twilight's naturally stronger than the others, on account of his farm work growing up. Time's equal now, thanks to Malon, but when he was a kid, he had jelly arms and couldn't even pick bomb flowers.

Hyrule and Wild have the strongest immune systems, and Wild's Hylians have the fastest reflexes, due to the sheer amount of wild territory and monsters the two have had to brave.

Speaking of Wild, the shrine of resurrection didn't fix him totally; because of the amount of injuries he sustained, he tires out much more easily than the others, and compensates with stamina vessels.

The toon styling of Wind Waker is more of a perspective change, otherwise we'd see a more on-model Master Sword. However, Wind's got a good eye for the weather; he and Sky can pretty accurately predict what the forecast is for the day! Wind himself doesn't dive, but the people of his era, human and Hylian alike, have larger spleens to allow them to dive further.

Ironically, Warriors is the most "normal" Hylian of the bunch, closer to Hyrule's civilian population in ability.

For my boys, because I want to gush about them:

Piper's Hylians are VERY magic sensitive; they live and utilize magic so often in the form of the Spirit Tracks that any area without it seems unnaturally quiet, like when you turn off white noise. They also burn off excess magic when particularly excited in the form of Force Gems, which feeds into the tracks to be grounded out in extensions of it. It makes kind of a feedback loop where the tracks are slowly spreading out as long as there's good in the world.

Taps' Hylians are still adapting from the Sky era conditions. Their appendixes still work. They do better in higher altitudes than lower ones, and they can go into shock if they switch altitudes too quickly without practice due to their lungs panicking and trying to expand like they were built to. That'll fade out more and more in subsequent generations as Hylians become more accustomed to the surface.

Soldier's got more stamina than Wild due to the Shrine of Ressurection shenanigans, but a lower immune system. He and Wild are otherwise physically identical, so there isn't much else to say there.

Fox is by far the fragile outlier; the only human of the bunch, he's got lower stamina and lower resilience against attacks, but intense training to be a hero has compensated a little bit. Get that boy some heart containers.

Cadenza lives with intense telepathic synthesia, so he's got REALLY good hearing compared to the others at the cost of clumsiness whenever he misses a "beat." Telepathic synthesia is a common condition to have in his time, in varying degrees, so you'd be hard pressed to find someone that isn't tapping their foot to some invisible beat. He's also exhausted his adrenaline response due to the deaths-and-Fate interaction.

Now for general Hylian stuffs:

Fairies cure illnesses, as evidenced with Wind's grandma, and all the Links have at some point touched a fairy. That's how they resist viruses they wouldn't have otherwise developed immunity against.

They're also highly resistant to poisons, burns, frostbite, and electric shock. Not only do they survive elemental magic attacks often, but they can get struck by lightning, fight off toxins inflicted by plants, fog, mud, and bad food in seconds, and walk into active volcanoes with no respiratory damage whatsoever.

They're designed to pull more nutrition out of food than humans are, and as such, they can go longer without eating, have smaller stomachs, and can restore their energy with a simple bottle of milk.

They have good night vision, able to see in varying degrees in complete darkness. The best night vision of the bunch goes to Sky, and the worst goes to Hyrule, but even Hyrule's level of night vision lets him see himself and various enemies, suggesting that there's an element of motion detection to Hylian vision (don't move and he can't see us)!

Hylians have stronger bones than we do. While they do take damage from high falls, they don't sustain any long term injuries from it, even when they're at the point of death (like Wild). This means the damage they get from a fall is a lot more likely to be to their muscle tissue, so sprains and deep bruises. That could also be why Stalfos stick around for so long!

[oliviayamaoka]

The Roseville Murders

Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson x Female Reader 

After getting yourself into a rather tragic incident, you are reassigned to work elsewhere to protect your young career as a detective.

Your life would sure but slowly change when you meet a bright journalist named Jed Olsen, always looking to get inside information from you regarding the murders in Roseville. Seeking Jed Olsen’s help in finding the Ghostface, a spark ignited between the two of you.

Chapter One: Roseville

Y/N rubbed her eyes, tired from the long car ride you just endured. It was a long car ride from your old home but at least the day was nice. It wouldn’t be long until dusk came. In a way, you were glad. You often thrived in the nighttime and took it as an opportunity to wind down and finally rest. It was a large rental truck that you had taken on your journey to your new home, Roseville. You didn’t necessarily choose the location; you were assigned to go there. After the incident, you were assigned to help in the investigation regarding some gnarly murders. This piqued your interest since you had an interest in crime and journalism, more so crime.

It was quite the strange time, being a junior detective, or that’s what they called you anyways. Your time in the police academy was short-lived, it didn’t take long to become a detective in the nineties. Even so, you managed to impress some detectives and officers. You also had an eye for stuff that would normally slip other people’s mind, the small details were more or less important to you. Admittedly, your interest in detective work stemmed from the fact you loved horror movies and shows. Even books. It would be a silly idea in the eyes of others but you figured you could do some good. You were also extremely annoyed at how incompetent other officers could be, not writing reports in detail or straight up refusing to do a full investigation. It was ridiculous and you figured you’d try and change this.

Johnathan Stevens was the name of your supervisor, an older gentleman. He formerly investigated murders and unsolved crimes in the fifties and sixties, his prime. Some would even consider his work to dabble in the supernatural. You weren’t sure if you believed such things, not that you were a skeptic since there were small things you couldn’t explain growing up. His work was great nonetheless and he saw the potential in you. You admired him and he gave a good word to others on your behalf. He was the reason you got a job in helping the investigation in Roseville. Ah yes, Roseville.

You were excited in a way. Johnathan was able to get you a role in the investigation of the Roseville Murders. The prime suspect was a man in a costume who went by the name Ghost Face. They ultimately branded the series of murders as the Ghost Face Murders. Y/N read the files and you began to think of your own theories on who this mysterious murderer could be. The murders were premeditated and were always executed in a similar fashion. Y/N saw some photos left behind by the Ghost Face, he enjoyed posing and took pride in his work. Your train of thought suddenly ended when you saw the town’s sign.

“Welcome to Roseville.” You subconsciously mumbled. There was a slight feeling of regret and worry that itched at you from the inside but you brushed it off. No going back now, you wanted to be a good detective and help those in need.

Your hands brushed towards your turn signals. The apartment you rented wasn’t too far and you didn’t have too many things you brought with you. Roseville seemed like a quiet little city, very peaceful and tidy. A part of you had trouble even imagining that such grizzly murders could take place in what people would consider a perfect town or city. This seemed like a place where somebody would want to raise a family or live a quiet life, it pretty much had everything you needed. You didn’t blame them, the big city life was horrendous, as were the crimes there committed. Y/N sighed deeply as you pulled into the parking lot of the apartment building. It was red and looked somewhat old. Not that it mattered, you were happy with anything at this point. You rubbed your eyes again before resting your forehead on your steering wheel, putting your car into park.

It was about 6:00 PM, you didn’t have to be at the station until 7:30 PM. Much to your dismay, it was enough time to talk to your landlord. You had met prior on a phone call and you got the apartment rather easily. You saw pictures and were instantly keen on getting a lease for it. You checked your mirror to quickly fix your hair up and refresh yourself. After a moment or two, you got out and walked towards the door. Y/N pushed it open and caught a glimpse of the lobby. It was well-furnished and tidy. It was a lot better than your old apartment building in the city. Your mood lightened up, looking forward to a somewhat quieter life. You figured you had your share of the city bars and nightclubs, other shenanigans you encountered when you were slightly younger. You took a few steps in and walked towards the main office. Your shyer tendencies made you hesitate but you knocked lightly on the door, pushing it open.

“Hello?” You called out as you made eye-contact with a blonde woman.

“How can I help you?” The woman asked you, putting away some papers into a filing cabinet.

Her hair was actually kind of long and seemed natural. Her skin was fair and her eyes were a darker shade of blue. The woman’s dark eyebrows helped in bringing out her beautiful features. She was a thin but tall woman. Her attire consisted of a white turtleneck with a cardigan, dress, and black dress shoes with long, white stockings. It was a healthy mix of coziness and business. Y/N smiled kindly and extended her hand out.

“I’m Y/N L/N. I assume that you’re Deborah?” You asked as she quickly returned the smile, a more charming one. She shook your hand, her touch felt welcoming, something that was needed in Roseville.

“Yes, I am. Lovely to finally meet you! How was the trip?” She asked as you shrugged slightly.

“A bit boring but I made it.” You replied as she giggled a bit.

“Take it from me, Roseville is happy you decided to come. The rumors and murders have driven a few people away. We’re happy to have another officer to help.” Deborah said to you.

“Yeah, well, if anybody ever gives you trouble then you’ll know where to find me.” You said as she perked up. Deborah quickly walked towards her desk and grabbed a set of old, somewhat rusty keys. With a sweet smile, the woman planted the metal in your palm.

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate you choosing here to live. If you need help unloading your stuff, my brothers are one call away.” She said. With that voice and attitude, the woman would have made an excellent commercial woman.

“I should be fine.” You assured the woman before exiting the office space.

You swiftly walked out towards the parking lot. It was a rather nice evening so far. The sky was a mixture of pink and red with a nice breeze. You held your forehead for a second, having small flashbacks of a man grunting and swearing. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before sighing stubbornly. Y/N didn’t want to waste anymore time remembering what happened, it was pointless. A part of you felt gross and weird. Your eyes narrowed in an annoyed manner, looking at the stuff you had to bring in. 

Maybe you didn’t want to bring in that stuff anymore. You looked around, there was a bakery and a coffee shop nearby on the beautifully constructed sidewalks. Each shop had a small garden or some sort of plant in the front. Roseville was old in an industrial sort of way but the shops, houses, and plant life made it have a rather beautiful aesthetic. Not only that but you enjoyed the weather. You sighed softly, deciding that you should just walk to the police station. Ignoring the lazy and depressing feeling you had, you decided to just walk to clear your head of the memories. And so, you locked the doors to the rental truck and began your little adventure.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” Jonathan questioned you, his nostrils flaring slightly. In his eyes were a deep stare of concentration. You felt numb but remorseless, you kept your head down. 

“He was going to hurt me, Jon.” You mumbled to him, your eyebrows tightly knitted as you looked for any sort of agreement within his eyes. The man sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Jonathan seemed tired.

“I know he was, kid... but you shot a man. You took a mans life. I understand you did it to defend yourself but the court might not see it that way.” He said.

“Well, I’m glad I did. He would’ve hurt more women. Innocent women.” You replied with bitterness in your voice. He sighed before sitting down, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His eyes met yours as you looked away.

You thought about the incident a lot. You replayed your own screams in your head before the distinct sound of a gun fired in your ears. Before you even realized it, you were staring dead ahead, reliving it with intense focus. It’s not like you wanted to, it was automatic and you still didn’t process most of it. In fact, it felt like a dream. Y/N shut her eyes, exhaling sharply before looking at the man in front of her. Your eyelids rested, the numbness overcoming the raw feeling of the flashback you had just endured.

“There’s... a case in a city. A smaller city. If I talked to the others and reassigned you somewhere far, would you do it? We’ve known you for years and we care. I know that man could’ve hurt my wife, my daughter, my sister... we understand. Not many people know about this. We could help you.” He said.

“What do you mean? Won’t I be charged for it?” You asked him.

“Np, not if we... sweep this under the rug. But, if we do this then you have to do something in return. Do you want this?” He asked you. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise as you pondered his offer for a moment, you looked around the room.

“I-I do, but... will they actually do this? For me?” Y/N asked as he nodded. He seemed a bit gruff, just tired from the paperwork.

“We’ve discussed it but listen to me. You can’t tell anybody about this. We’re doing you a big favor, a huge one. The director said that more officers and detectives are needed in Roseville, he said they’d be glad to accept you. This will be a lot better than telling the court what happened.” He said.

“I, yeah, yeah.” You said, nodding in slight anticipation. Nonetheless, you were very grateful for this opportunity. 

“Whenever you’re ready then but it might have to be in the next week or two.” Jonathan said to you as he looked around, somewhat nervously.

“Thank you...” You replied a bit awkwardly, not sure how to display your gratitude for him. He only nodded with a small smile, patting your head. 

“Go home, kid. I’ll handle the guy.” He said as you nodded.

You sighed as you looked upwards, the sky was a mixture of purple and blue. This was your favorite type of weather. It brought peace and calmness. A small smile curled onto your lips when you thought of the old times, when you first experienced freedom and happiness. Your hands slid into your pockets as you continued to walk down the sidewalk, your gaze averting to the large building ahead. The Roseville Police Department, your future workplace. 

The building looked rather strange for a police department. It had gates and vines around it, it almost looked like a school. Then again, school was indeed prison. You didn’t think about school much, in fact, you hated it. You never could relate to the other teens. Aside from writing and art, you really enjoyed watching horror movies. Anything horror intrigued you, books and movies alike. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that you were a horror fanatic. Strangely, it sort of inspired you to pursue this career. You were always pretty tough, blood and gore never bothered you. Even when you went to a morgue, it brought a small feeling of peace knowing the deceased were at rest.

You got closer and closer to the station, quickly since you were so lost within your own thoughts. The doors to the station were wooden yet grey, very large. Y/N looked around, there were very few police cars. Maybe being understaffed wasn’t the problem, it’s the fact that they seemed to be very poorly funded. You pushed the large door open, looking around the inside of the station. It was very eerie and quiet but seemed very cozy. A perfect image of the nineties. With your arms crossed, you walked up to the front desk. There was a cup of coffee, you assumed it was cold and took another look around. There were medical beds and tons of chairs stacked together. Not only that but there were statues and paintings. The paintings seemed old but the faces were creepy. Upon staring at them, you soon found inspiration in their haunting gazes.

This was going to be an interesting job, you thought.

Jed Olsen sighed deeply as he looked through different piles of papers that were piled together. It was rather stressful to have to proof-read his coworker’s work. Some of the work he looked over was really badly written. No wonder somebody of his talents got that job really easily. Ever since he arrived at Roseville, he thought he made a good impact on the city. Roseville lived in fear and that’s how he liked it. 

As the young man’s thoughts turned towards his other line of profession, he smiled widely and rested his eyebrows. His name wasn’t actually Jed, it was Danny Johnson. Jed Olsen was the alter ego that Danny created when he came to this place. Aside from killing, writing was one of his professions. Danny was good at it and he even got to write about his own murders. It was exhilarating, to say the least. It brought excitement to this city, it brought excitement into his own life. The journalist façade was a great gig, he needed a job anyways. It was very convenient nobody questioned him or invited him to the bar. Then again, he was a bit younger so his coworkers didn’t bother to hang out with him much.

Danny looked around cautiously before pulling his bag towards him. He only carried around his camera. In his office, there weren’t any cameras and his door actually had a lock. There wasn’t anybody around since it was the evening and he decided to stay late to proof-read papers. His camera was black yet worn out and scratched up. Still, he chose to ignore it since that thing was his prized possession. Danny pretty much checked on it everyday to make sure it wasn’t broken and to just simply admire his work he did on it. 

“Hmm...” He hummed to himself as he clicked through the photos on it. He smirked looking through his work. 

His next murder was going to be perfect. Danny planned on getting more photos of Ghostface doing his heinous crimes. Jed Olsen managed to get photos of the serial killer taking pictures of his murders in rather cocky ways. And of course, the police had no idea that it was him who did it. The police here were amateurs that didn’t do their job right. It was incredibly easy getting away with the murders and surprisingly, the FBI didn’t get involved.  Oh well, the law enforcement probably had other things to deal with right now.

As he clicked through the photos, thinking about his next murders, his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the familiar chime of the front door open. Maybe it was his boss? Danny quickly put his camera away in his desk drawer and rushed to unlock his door. The Roseville Gazette was usually a quiet place. He looked up as he noticed a young woman at the front desk of the gazette. 

“Hey, how can I help you?” He asked, immediately switching to his Jed persona. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I was wondering if there was a Jed Olsen around here? I didn’t realize it was quiet here.” She said with a smile.

For a moment, Danny focused on her smile. It was a beautiful and genuine smile. Strange but not everybody was as shallow as his victims or the people he met. His gaze averted to her eyes and then her face. She was indeed a very beautiful person. A pleasant surprise, not that Danny ever indulged in romance. 

“You’re speaking to him.” He replied with a playful shrug.

Y/N stared at him for a second before raising her eyebrows in surprise. 

“Oh. well nice to meet you, Mr. Olsen.” You said as you extended your hand.

“The pleasure is mine.” Danny replied as he shook your hand.

The touch of your hand was rather soft. He didn’t know it yet but he felt slightly flustered. Danny never really met anybody that he considered attractive. Maybe he did but he never paid attention to that sort of thing. 

“Do you have time right now? Or wanna schedule a date to quickly go over your work?” You asked him.

“A date?” He asked blankly. Danny didn’t know what you meant but his brain took it in a romantic way since he thought you were pretty. Your eyebrows furrowed awkwardly in confusion as you nodded slightly with a small smile.

“Um, yeah... I can come back sometime or we can meet at a coffee shop. I’m a detective so... yeah.” You say, automatically getting awkward around people your age. Danny nearly facepalmed himself but his mind quickly went to darker places.

A new detective? A detective who wanted to talk to him one-on-one? None of the detectives decided they wanted to question him. Did this woman find something? Did she suspect him? She looked like she could be a psychologist or something so maybe she wanted to see how he’d react when explaining the Ghostface articles he wrote? He’d have to get her last name and see where she lived. Y/N looked like she’d be easy to kill.

“Jed?” She asked in concern.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely... I have time right now. Sorry, I just get zoned out when I think of the murders and the sick photos he took.” He apologized.

“Don’t be sorry, that type of stuff is something nobody can get used to.” You reassured him. Jed was actually quite handsome.

“Yeah, you’re right. Come into my office.” He said, signaling with his head where his office was. You followed him in.

The office was old. It seemed rather boring at first but that’s what office jobs are for, anyways. His desk was quite clean. Jed seemed to be a very organized person. It would make sense considering his work on the Ghostface murders. You took a seat across from his desk and smiled a bit as he sat down. You were a pretty diligent worker so got straight to the point.

“So, Jed... as you know, there’s an ongoing investigation on the Ghostface Murders that I was assigned to.” You began. Danny nodded, leaning back in his office chair comfortably. He stared at you intently, watching your expression as he worried.

“I took on the liberty of reading your work on the murders. You write about him in a very peculiar way... admirably, almost.” You said to him. Danny tried to hide his worry but he was trying to figure out a way to kill you quickly. Maybe you were FBI? You were already sharper compared to the other officers/

“Anyways, I really love your work, Jed. I’ve taken a personal interest in the Ghostface. And as a detective, I’d like to get to try and get to know him as best I can.” You said with a hint of excitement in your eyes.

“Get to know him…?” He replied, slowly reaching for the knife taped under his desk.

“With your work and your input, I could put together a psychological report on him. If we want to catch him, we should figure out what type of person he is first.” Y/N said.

Danny’s fingers stopped right above the knife. His hand slowly backed away from the bottom of the desk. So, she didn’t suspect him? Danny almost laughed out of relief and at her. He was stupid for thinking she could’ve found out he was Ghostface. Y/N only seemed to be interested in his work.

“Oh, I see… yeah, that would make sense.” He said to you as you crossed one leg.

“I’m glad you agree. I’m determined to catch him and maybe even see his motivation.” You replied to him. Danny’s eyes sparked for a moment as he stared at you.

“His motivation?” He asked as you thought for a moment.

“Probably sounds strange, I know but… he must have a reason, right? And I find it so interesting how he goes about his murders. I actually have a theory about him.” You explained.

You seemed to trust Jed Olsen. The other officers and detectives said he liked to bug and probe them all the time for more information regarding the murders and what their progress was like. And truth be told? There was very little they could go off of. Ghostface was too methodical and careful, left absolutely no trace of himself besides the pictures Jed retrieved. He was a hard-working journalist and you had a good feeling about him, anywyas.

He was also pretty cute.

“I don’t think it’s strange, at all. I’ve never seen any of the detectives so passionate about the case. They always brush me off… so, what’s this theory?” Danny asked you, watching your expressions.

“Well, I only just saw your work today but I thought about it when I walked here. Ghostface seems to be rather cocky, a common trait in younger men. But, since we never caught him or anything, I know he’s really careful with what he does. The murders are also premeditated. They’re too… clean and carefully executed even if it is a bloodbath.” You sort of rambled on.

A weird feeling tingled inside of Danny as you continued to explain your theory.

“He’s really cunning and methodical. And based on my other observations, I think he uses the murders as a way of expressing himself. I’ve read about other serial killers caught… they usually leave marks, take trophies, and know the victim in some ways. Or they’re just cold-blooded but not in his case. I think he sees the murders as a form of art or something along those lines.” You said to him.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. Who the hell was she? Danny thought for a moment. She was right, he did see his murders as art and something beautiful. Did she see it that way too? This woman was strange, indeed. As as young detective, he admired her naive nature.

“That would actually make sense… he does seem to make an unnecessarily big mess when killing and yet, the police can’t find anything on him? It makes total sense.” Jed replied.

“Right? Anyways, I was going to ask if you can type of a report or something along those lines. Give me every single detail you know about him and your analogy. Your input could be vital to solving this case.” You said, standing up.

“If you don’t mind me asking, detective, why are you so interested in him? You’re really passionate about this.” He said to you.

“I wanna understand him and see more of his artwork… it’s pretty fascinating. Also, you can just call me Y/N. Have that report ready in a week?” She asked him.

“Yeah, definitely.” Danny replied to you.

“See you then, Jed.” Y/N said as she nodded with a confident smile.

Y/N was indeed young and naive. Although, she didn’t share anything confidential, she placed a lot of trust into the journalist. Then again, why should she be untrusting of him? The young woman was so passionate, intelligent, and seemed to have a very strong sense of independence. Danny assumed she came here without any authority, taking matters into her own hands. A by-the-book cop? Maybe, maybe not. Danny found that strangely attractive. However, she might even hinder his efforts and catch him. He couldn’t let that happen, yet…

There was something so intoxicating about her. Danny never met anybody that was so compassionate and understanding to his cause. Maybe, he saw her motivation in his own twisted way. This woman wanted to understand him, to see things as he does. Nobody has ever went to that length for him. Not only that but, she had no problem talking about such grimey things in a way that she didn’t get disgusted. The man had a bit of a crazed stare in his eyes as he began to recall her features.

Detective Y/N, just who were you?

And so, the obsession begins.

[peralta-guaranteed]

can you write something base on this incorrect quote? https://burnonyou.tumblr.com (stealing anons idea)

Amy's questioning "Babe?" called into the dark, but definitely populated apartment (the randomly thrown shoes and leather jacket over the dining chair are a dead give away) is only answered by a deep groan from the bedroom, one that sounds muffled through pillows, so she's not surprised when she finds Jake face-down on the mattress.

What's confusing is that he's still fully dressed, and clearly not trying to get to sleep, his hands balling up the blanket underneath him in frustration as he barely lifts his head when she sits down next to him and starts sifting through his curls.

"What happened?" Amy asks, and he lets out another groan.

"I am the most embarassing person in the world."

"Sometimes, yes." She smiles, because she can tell despite all the signs that this isn't as much of an episode as it seems. She knows him by now - knows how to read his overplayed shock and drama from the actual hurt and sorrow he hides so well. "What did you do?"

"I ran into Holt at the coffee shop, and he was reading this book, and I recognised it from your nightstand, so I asked him about it." Jake still mumbles into the pillow, and Amy almost forgets to listen as she feels a jolt of excitement about the knowledge that she and the Captain are currently delving deep into the same philosophical treatise she's been devouring after work.

"That doesn't sound embarassing."

"No, but he was like, really getting into it. I thought I'd get a short comment with five words I don't understand like always, but he started explaining it and talking about the last chapter and stuff, and then I was sitting down with him with my coffee and he just kept talking."

"Babe, that all sounds nice." Amy busies herself with one of Jake's longer curls, ignoring the tiniest bit of jealousy that Jake got Holt to 'geek out' over a book she herself was reading, but she could remedy that easily by mentioning it during their next meeting or something. She'd get her moment too.

"It was. It was really nice. We had, like, a whole moment. I kinda got into the book too. Because he liked it so much. It was cool."

Jake sighs, deeply, and Amy feels him tense under her hand.

"And then I called him dad."

"You've done that before, it's not that bad. I think he finds it more funny than embarassing."

"No, but this was different." Jake finally turns around, curls into a little ball as he presses his face against her thigh, and she resumes scratching along his temple down to his neck. "It was like, really personal. Way too much. Like, there was this moment, and then I went and did the stupid emotional baggage thing, and it ruined it all."

Amy can only smile as she imagines her Golden Retriever boyfriend in all his excited, tail-wagging happiness intently listening to Holt explaining something, getting sucked into the story as much as he always does when someone is really passionate about something. She sees them in that coffee shop she knows so well - Holt always sits in the same corner, too - talking and nodding and spurning each other on, and something tells her that there's nothing embarassing or moment-ruining about Jake's word association blunder. Not that it really was one - the few ‘Dad’s that have escaped him before where more mindless than anything, but she knows well enough that they were all meant with the same feeling, even if Jake wouldn’t be too happy to admit it to himself or anyone else.

"I really don't think you messed up, Jake." She tries to gently calm him. "It sounds like it fit the moment, anyway."

Jake only groans again as he presses his face even harder against her jeans.

-*-

“Raymond?” Kevin asks with hesitation, having found no trace of his husband in the kitchen or the dining room, where he’d usually expect to find him at this hour of the evening. But he’s been enarmored with the book he’d recommended to him a week ago, and so it is not quite as surprising to find him in the reading room. What is surprising is that he is not reading, the mentioned tome lying on the desk beside him instead, Cheddar at his feet, and his face in a clear state of a very hard to read emotion.

“Are you alright?”

Holt’s initial reaction is to apologise, as he is won’t to do when he’s bothering someone with an emotional outburst, until he remembers that he’s facing his husband, the only person in the world who he’s not ashamed to be emotional in front of, so he only shakes his head.

“I am afraid you will find me quite a mess tonight, Kevin.”

“What happened?” Kevin kneels down to pet Cheddar, who has dutifully trodded over to him for greetings, but not taking his eyes off of Holt, who sighs.

“Peralta met me at the coffee shop today, during my usual after work coffee break before the drive home.”

“He didn’t upset you, did he?”

“No.” Holt shakes his head, then leans it against his palm, a thinking pose that is rare to see and never fails to incite just the lightest spark of desire in Kevin when he gets to witness his partner so vulnerable and attractive at the same time. “Quite the opposite. He asked me about the book you recommended.”

“He’s surely not reading it.”

“No, it seems that Santiago is.”

“Ah.” Kevin nods as he gets up again, Cheddar returning to his seat at Holt’s slippered feet. That makes far more sense - he’d thought it might interest the young detective, actually, and had been thinking about sending her a message about the book, but then considered that their relationship was not yet at the level where one could simply leave reading recommendations in the other’s email inbox.

“I tried to summarise the book for him in a way he would understand, too, but then-” Holt shakes his head with a huff, almost a smile, and Kevin can’t resist stepping closer to the chair until he can lean against its armrest. “I- I simply lost control, and began talking about it without pause. It is a wonderful read, really. Even Peralta seemed interested - despite my treatise being longer than ten minutes, it kept his attention span.”

“That’s remarkable.” Kevin scoffs only a little, still teetering on his like or dislike of the young man.

“It really was. It felt quite - connecting, in a way. I think people would describe it as ‘being a moment’ between us, if you understand.”

He nods, silently, because he can tell that the big reveal is yet to come, the story of emotions across Holt’s face moving to the finish line - his husband is a wonderful storyteller, but sometimes he does push the act to its limits.

“And then Peralta got lost in his reply to me, as well, and called me Dad.” Holt says in a much quieter voice than before, and Kevin can tell from the slight quiver of his lip that he’s fighting back tears.

“You’ve mentioned him calling you that before.” He tries to be gentle, to not upset him any further, knowing full well that those mentioned situations meant more to Holt than maybe he himself was willing to admit yet.

“Yes, but not- I think not in this way.” Holt presses a finger to his lips for a second, as if he’s searching for the right words. “Usually, it seems more like he is forgetting himself when he says it, simply substituting me as an authoritative person for a father figure. But this time, it felt quite... emotional. Like I had been bestowed the title properly.”

Kevin’s hand finds the top of his, laying flat on the armrest between them, and gives it a soft squeeze, barely appropriate now that they’re alone in their own home.

“He looks up to you, Raymond. I wouldn’t be surprised to know that you’ve gained that title quite a while ago.”

He feels his husband take in a sharp breath, and lets go of his hand immediately.

“And I think you’d suit the title quite well, too. For Jake.”

[alildritten]

Chapter 15! Wow, I’ve…. Never written this much for a story before. At least, not that I can recall. Anyway, a censored swear warning! Just so you know! And, uh, I like writing Nova’s character. :3

Text like this: text is Nova thinking. Click “keep reading” to read!

Start / Prev / Next

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Chapter 15: Nova

Moon thought things possibly couldn’t get any worse, but they did. Star kept being as negative as possible, and Moon’s mental health declined further.

Meanwhile…

Sun was still in their room. I hope their okay…. They’ve been in there for a while. Maybe I should go check on them? No, no. But- NO. Sun needs some time alone. I got to leave them be.

Well, now what? Moon’s too dangerous, but Sun won’t let me do anything. Vanessa keeps sneaking around, and the other animatronics are starting to act funky too. Only me and Sun seem to be unaffected by…. whatever it is. I wonder what?

What if I-

NO. We do NOT spy on Vanessa! That’s rude.

But…. Security? Perhaps?

No! This is Vanessa we’re talking about, no need to sne-

THERE SHE IS.

Nova quietly pursued her, using their wire to float through the air seamlessly. Where is she going…? WAIT. I thought I wasn’t going to spy-!

THERE SHE GOES. Follow!

Vanessa turned a corner, after looking around first. Sneaky. What are you up t- VANESSA WOULDN’T DO ANYTHING-!

Would she? Everyone has been acting strangely. She’s the only human night guard, and maintenance isn’t doing anything. What-?

CLOMP CLOMP!

Suddenly, Freddy runs over from behind another corner. Vanessa panics, and hides behind a counter. Why would s- No, no. Freddy has been acting more violently as well. Hmmm…. But why though…?

IS THAT A KID?! Nova quickly goes over to a different counter to get a closer look. THAT KID- WHY ARE THEY BACK?!

Danger; Threat detected.

Oooh, I’m gonna kill that kid! Thinking they can decommission me! Ha! As if.

Nova dives down and grabs him. Before Freddy notices, Nova takes him back up into the air, and drags him to the daycare.

“SUN! GET OVER HERE NOW!”

“A-aah! O-of c-c-course!” Sh*t. Shouldn’t have yelled.

Sun dived into the ball pit, tears still falling. They then scramble over to Nova as quickly as possible, fear etched into their face.

“Were you… cryi- Nevermind. That doesn’t matter. THIS KID. Remember him?” Nova asked, a tad aggressive.

“Err…. Yes. The troublemaker who couldn’t follow the one rule.”

“Hey! I did! The lights suddenly switched off! I didn’t do it!”

“No talking.” Nova growls, glaring the kid down. Sun squeaks, hunching down to seem smaller. “Not you.” Nova groans, forgetting how easily scared Sun is.

“O-oh. R-right. Sorry.”

“Hey, kid, what was your name again?”

“Greggory.”

“Well, Greggory, you’ve got a lot of nerve to return here. Especially after what you did to me.” Nova has a look in their eyes, and Greggory can tell it isn’t good. “You have heard the saying, ‘An eye for an eye,’ right?” Nova cackles softly. Sun whips their head up to face them.

“W-WHAT?! Nova, th-that is too cruel for a-a child!” Sun said, definitely a lot quieter than Greggory remembered.

“Do you not know what he did?! He not only broke Monty, stole his claws, ran a car into Roxy, stole her eyes, and smash Chica in the trash compactor just to steal her voicebox, THIS KID ALSO GOT ME TANGLED IN THE CORD, AND F___ING PUSHED ME INTO A WALL MULTIPLE TIMES, JUST TO STEAL MY FLASH ABILITY. I HAD TO GET FIXED. I NEED MY JUSTICE.” Nova yelled angrily, upset with the kid they had trusted so quickly. “Greggory, I had trusted you, and you took that trust and ran over it multiple times, as well as smashed it to bits!”

“N-Nova….”

“WHAT IS IT SUN?” Sun yelped and cowered fearfully. Nova’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. Shh, shh…. It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” A few tears trickled down Sun’s face. “No, please don’t cry! I said I’m sorry! I’m not angry at you!”

“What… happened? Something’s different around here.”

“WELL, YEAH, WHAT GAVE YOU THAT IDEA? Oh, I don’t know, perhaps it’s the AGGRESSIVE ANIMATRONICS THAT WANT TO HURT EVERYONE! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to calm Sun down.”

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[misora-msby]

花火 | chapter one : moon

花火 (fireworks) | chapter one : moon

themes / warnings: medieval japan au (sengoku era), supernatural au, death, fluff, angst

pairing: kitsune!suna x fem!reader

word count: 7.0k

notes: part one of a series! it’s not 100% accurate to shintoism and japanese folklore but i did my best to research it and change as little as possible! still, i hope you enjoy this and stick around for the next parts too!

edit from the future : part two can be found here

Rintarou doesn’t remember how he became a kitsune spirit. 

It was just that one summer day he found himself sleeping in front of a manmade structure (a shrine to the god Inari as he would later learn) with a boy of preteen age standing over him. 

That boy, Shinsuke, would teach him and two other foxes, Atsumu and Osamu, how to do their jobs - protecting the priests, priestesses, and shrine maidens living nearby, and delivering the prayers of visitors to the god. It wasn’t an overly difficult job though, and more often than not, Rintarou found himself either running around the shrine grounds with the other two or sleeping in a comfortable spot he found. 

A few years later, the three of them even gained the ability to shapeshift into humans. They were completely amused with how similar Atsumu and Osamu looked, and how Suna’s eyes looked almost the exact same as his fox form, though it greatly upset them that their human forms were much shorter and younger than that of Shinsuke’s. He had to reassure them that someday they were likely to grow to his height or even taller. 

It was just a matter of time, similar to how they had to wait to become strong enough to become human.

Time, Rintarou would eventually learn, was rarely ever on his side.

It was a perfect day for a nap on the roof; a cooling wind blew through the air, preventing Rintarou’s robes from sticking to his skin. The sky was cloudy enough to block out the sun while not being abundant enough to make him worry about a sudden downpour, and the sweet scent of flowers blooming filled the air. Though there weren’t many bouquets in the area, a fox’s strong sense of smell could detect the scent of wisterias carried on the wind. 

After a bit of twisting and turning to find the perfect position to sleep in, Rintarou was woken by the sound of footsteps and chatter. Shuffling to the edge of the roof, he narrowed his eyes upon seeing a family of six walking in. 

“Today, your mom and dad are going to teach you how to pray. We want to pray for your mom and new sibling, okay?” a man spoke to the children who replied with a chorus of “Yes”s. 

“Ah,” Rintarou remembered, “Inari-sama is the god of so many things… Foxes, rice, sake, fertility, agriculture… Why couldn’t they give some of the work to the other gods… we have so much work to do.” 

He figured he might as well do his job while the other three were doing other jobs around or out of the grounds and began to inspect them carefully. Fortunately there were no malicious spirits attached to them, nor could he sense any by the red torii gates at the foot of the mountain slope on which the shrine resided. 

But as Rintarou inspected them from atop the rooftop, he noticed the youngest child of the family, the only daughter, was rather pretty. She looked to be about his age, though he knew she had obviously seen far fewer winters than he had due to the way time progressed for him as a spirit. 

Dressed in a red kimono with her hair just reaching her shoulders in a simple bob like most girls her age, he thought she was the prettiest girl who had ever come to the shrine. He couldn’t understand why his stomach suddenly felt funny, like it was jumping around inside his body. 

Suddenly, their eyes met and that feeling spread to more parts than just his stomach. Big glossy eyes stared up at him in awe while his own fox-like eyes widened. An awfully warm feeling came to his cheeks and the boy quickly scampered away from the edge of the roof, towards the back of the building where they wouldn’t be able to see him. 

Rintarou sat still for a moment, knees to his chest. He took in deep breaths while keeping his cool hands pressed to his cheek and chest. Was she a malevolent spirit?! He thought that could be the only reason for nearly every part of his body to be tingling and causing his heart to want to jump out from his throat. 

And yet he wanted to keep his gaze upon her. To look once again into those bright eyes and to memorise her pretty form. 

He decided to do just that. 

With graceful steps, Rintarou hopped off of the roof and onto the stone tiles. His feet made no sound as he ran over to hide behind a tree and watched as the family made their prayers. He watched as she reached up, struggling to drop her coin into the offering box while his dainty but pudgy fingers gripping onto the bark tightly to prevent himself from running forward and tossing it in for her. 

But surely an evil spirit wouldn’t go through that trouble with praying right? She had to be a regular human. Even the head priest was smiling at the entire family. But he still couldn’t understand why she gave him such a funny feeling. 

Before he could be spotted again, he ran off into the forest to avoid her gaze which caused all these problems in him in the first place. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

A few moons had passed, the cool breeze had become warmer and the pink petals floating in the wind had been replaced by green leaves. The song of young animals had also left, the nights now being filled with the loud croaking of cicadas and the much quieter buzzing of fireflies. The air had become thicker and warmer too, which wasn’t quite something Rintarou enjoyed. But what he did enjoy was the festival occurring tonight. 

Every year the humans would hold an extra special festival in the summer and launch fireworks. Though he didn’t care too much for the spirits of humans, aside from that one girl who he had never seen again since, he did care for their aesthetics. Whether it was the pattern on the fabric of a woman’s kimono, or the design in the pendants and amulets that humans wore around their necks or held in their pockets, he thought they were all rather fascinating. But as much as he wanted to go down and look carefully in person in his human form, hiding his tail was still too difficult for him in the sea of humans, and even if he tried to make himself invisible, children were so painfully receptive to spirits that he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. 

Strangely, he could hide his ears if he wished. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that their tails were directly representative of their level of power so they were harder to hide.

As he sat atop a lone rock in the forest, he could smell the scent of hot snacks wafting up the mountain. Perhaps he’d make an appearance as a fox and hope that some kind humans would give him and Osamu some snacks. They always loved to treat the three little foxes running around the shrine. He was lucky he still only had one tail, otherwise it would gain many stares. He guessed that must be a problem for someone like Shinsuke-senpai who already had three tails.

Rintarou hopped off of his rock, ready to head down and check over the festival with his friends, when he heard sobbing from somewhere in the forest. 

With the way the orange sun had already gone to sleep, he knew that he had to look for the source of the sound. He was meant to be a zenko after all, a celestial fox associated with the god Inari. So while he wanted to just go down and have fun with his friends, he had to first attend to this matter.

Using the speed granted to him, it didn’t take long for him to locate the source. His senses were too strong to not be able to. 

What he found was someone who he had never expected to see again.

“You…” the word left him in a near gasp.

You were the girl from a few months ago, crouching under a tree and sobbing. Your hair had grown a bit longer and this time you wore a light pink yukata with a dark pink obi. The eyes that had captivated him so easily last time were now red and puffy as your little hands rubbed at them to rid them of the tears which poured.

Rintarou crouched in front of you who hadn’t noticed him amongst your crying. “Why are you crying?” he asked in his quiet voice.

You looked up and gasped before quickly wiping away your tears and snot.

“I- I was playing hide and seek with my onii-chans… but it’s been so long and it’s scary and then I fell down and it hurts…” your shaky voice hiccuped as you revealed your scratched up and dirty palms. Looking carefully, Rintarou realised the front of your yukata was dirty too. 

“Oh… Should we go find them?” he asked.

You shook your head quickly, “I don’t wanna go to them! Then I’ll lose!” 

Rintarou pursed his lips slightly, wondering why you wouldn’t want to be found when you were injured. Was hide and seek that important to human children? He had played it a couple of times with the twins but it was merely a way to pass time to them. 

“Then… do you want to fix your hands?” he asked. 

You replied with a nod, your sniffling ceasing. 

In reply, Rintarou untied the inro from the obi on his hip, a small container made of lacquered paper in which he kept healing salve, cloth, (and a snack or two) in the case of an emergency. 

“Show me your hands.” he said, to which you obeyed and held out your dirty hands. The kitsune carefully took your hands and began cleaning them off with a cloth, taking note of how warm you were. 

“Your hands are cold, are you sick?” you asked. 

Rintarou looked up at you for a moment, wondering how he should reply. He knew it had something to do with him being a spirit, but he didn’t want to say that. “I’ve always been cold.” he simply said and applied the salve to your skin. After wrapping them up in a new strip of cloth, he tied the inro back together and hung it on his hip again. 

“Wow, thank you…?” You exclaimed before trailing off as you realised you didn’t know his name.

The kitsune narrowed his eyes, not understanding you. After all, he had lived the past few decades around the same few people and had no reason to give his name.

“Um… what’s your name?” you finally asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Oh… Rintarou,” he said upon finally understanding.

“I’m (Y/N). Thank you for fixing my hand, Rintarou-kun! It already feels better!” you grinned and squeezed his hands to show you were already regaining your strength.

Though upon hearing his name from your lips and coming to the realisation that he had been holding your hands for so long, a blush crept up his cheeks. His eyes widened for a second though they quickly returned to fit his near emotionless state. “It’s nothing,” he quickly said, looking to the side to avoid your gaze, “Anyways, what do you want to do now? You don’t want to go find your brothers yet, right.”

You thought for a moment before asking, “Do you want to play together?”

“Play?”

“Yeah. We can go to the festival!”

At that, Rintarou immediately shook his head, “I don’t like crowds.” It was a lie, he couldn’t care less about crowds if he were in his fox form but if he had to stay a human, he couldn’t bear to spend so much energy in hiding his tail which still had a chance of being seen.

“Then… what do you want to do?” you asked, pouting slightly. 

He thought for a moment. What could you two do? 

Then he sniffed the air. There was the smell of a match being lit but the absence of incense. His sensitive ears could also hear the sound of people gathering and shuffling about in anticipation.

“Come with me, I’ll show you something cool.” He took you by the wrist and you two ran side by side into the forest. Though he had to annoyingly slow his pace for you, you both managed to reach his intended destination in time:

A small glade in the middle of the forest where he assumed a ritual must have taken place decades ago. It was surrounded by purple wisteria trees, as if they created a natural veil to this secret world where fireflies floated on the grass surrounding a single tall boulder. The sounds of the festival were far away now, Rintarou was certain that his guest could no longer hear them with how far up the mountain they were. 

“Quickly, climb up the rock.” He helped push you up the rock, slightly polished yet rough from years of rain and animals scratching upon it. The fireflies in the vicinity had become startled and gathered at the fringes of the glade instead of around the rock, but he figured it was a consequence that came with bringing a human for once to his secret place. Once he had confirmed you had a stable seat, he jumped up and took a seat beside you. 

“What are we doing here, Rintarou?” you asked curiously.

“Wait a bit… there.” He pointed up at the sky where a flower of red and yellow burst among the stars. The loud bang followed two seconds later, making the girl beside him almost jump in fright before becoming entranced at the sight of more fireworks following the first to bloom in the sky.

Reds, yellows, pinks, oranges, whatever colour you named could be found in the starry sky. Bursting and blooming with brilliance, providing just a fleeting amount of beauty before wilting just like a flower whose time had come to be picked from the garden. 

If you asked Rintarou yesterday what the most beautiful sight was, he would have said that it was sitting alone on his favourite rock while the wind blew on a spring day, watching the clouds swim by while joined by floating wisteria petals. It was a sight he spent every day of spring trying to recreate. But if you asked him today what he thought the most beautiful sight was, he surely would have said it was this very moment; sitting beside the only human who he had ever talked to, and who had caused him to feel absolutely captivated, watching the quickly disappearing and reappearing garden in the night sky.

However, all good things had to come to an end, and before he knew it, the night had been filled with a deafening silence, and the sky had become nearly pitch black with the new clouds of smoke.

“I think it’s time to go back,” he stood up to face you, “You definitely won the hide and seek game if you’ve been missing for this long.” 

You nodded in reply and carefully scrambled down the rock, landing on the grass with a soft “oof”. Rintarou jumped down, landing with barely any sound before holding out his hand. “Let’s go,” he said and took your hand as you two carefully walked through the forest.

Though it was dark and late at night, the bright moon was kind enough to allow you to not trip over your own feet as he led you down the path to the shrine which he had already memorised with ease.

“Can we come back here next year?” you asked while squeezing Rintarou’s hand, “It was really pretty.”

“Next year? Sure. Actually, I live at the shrine so you can come visit any time.” He didn’t know why he just said that. He never really talked to people, so why did he want to do this now?

“Okay! I’ll see you then!” you grinned, and Rintarou gave the slightest hint of a smile back.

“(Y/N)! There you are!” a woman cried the moment the two had stepped foot onto the stone shrine floors, running over to give her daughter a great big hug. “We were looking for you all over! Don’t go missing like that!” she sobbed, stroking her hair and dusting off the dirt from her clothes. 

“Sorry, mama. I was playing hide and seek with nii-chan.” you mumbled, allowing your mother to straighten up your looks.

“I know, he told me. But don’t hide in the forest, ok? It’s dangerous and dark and you never know what might be- Oh dear, what happened to your hands?!” the woman asked, inspecting the bandages.

“I fell down and Rintarou put medicine for me! Rintarou, do you wanna-” you turned to wave the boy over but found he was no longer there. “Huh?”

Right then, a shrine maiden hurried over. “Oh! (L/N)-san, I’m glad you managed to find your daughter!” she smiled.

“Onee-san, where’s Rintarou?” The shrine maiden cocked her head at the question from the little girl.

“Rintarou? I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about…” she replied in confusion.

“Eh… but he said he lives here! Um… he’s like… just a bit taller than me, and he has black, no, dark brown hair. Oh, and his eyes are yellow and like… they look like a fox!” Despite your explanations, the shrine maiden still had difficulty in knowing the identity of this person until an idea popped into her mind.

“Since this is a shrine to the god Inari, do you think you met a kitsune spirit?” she asked, “Though kitsunes rarely appear as young boys, there is the possibility.” The young girl gasped and thought for a second.

“Maybe…” you glanced back at the trees before turning to your mother. “I’m sleepy…”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you home, dear.” The woman held her daughter’s bandaged hand and waved goodbye to the shrine maiden before turning to head down the stairs of the shrine and to go back to the main festival.

While this happened, Rintarou had watched it all from behind a large tree trunk, just out of sight. His heart felt funny and he wished you didn’t have to go. Even if you said you would come back, he wished you didn’t leave in the first place. 

“Hey, Rin! Where were ya? We waited for so long next to the okonomiyaki stall!” Atsumu’s boisterous voice spoke, nearly frightening the boy who had been so deep in his thoughts. 

“There was a human lost in the forest so I had to help them,” he replied in his usual calm voice.

“Ya never miss the chance to walk with us in the festival though.” Osamu pointed out while taking a bite from one of the many toriniku sticks he held. Rintarou stiffened slightly, knowing that he was right.

“She was hurt.”

“‘She’?! A girl? Yer kiddin’ me, did ya get a girlfriend, Rin Rin?!” Atsumu grabbed his friend’s shoulders tightly.

“Nothing of that sort…” Rintarou replied though his cheeks turned pink.

“Maybe,” he realised, “maybe my feelings towards you are in that sort of way…”

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Ever since your first meeting that summer, you would visit rather often. Most of the time was either spent idly walking in the forest while talking about various topics, or laying on the grass of the clearing while watching the clouds pass.

Many moons passed and Rintarou was starting to despise the time he would have to see you walk down the road from the shrine, back to your family’s house in the village at the foot of the mountain. Oh if only there were a way to keep you with him forever, he wished. 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the soft footsteps on dirt approaching him. 

“Rintarou! Over here!” the voice he had missed so dearly spoke up. He jolted out of his thoughts and almost fell out of the tree he sat in, but he quickly regained his composure and hopped down.

“(Y/N), you surprised me.” he asked nonchalantly, as if being alone with you didn’t make his heart feel like it wanted to jump out of his chest.

“Really?! That’s a first!” you giggled before squinting your eyes at the top of his head. The kitsune became worried, were his ears visible? Even though you two had been friends for almost a year now, he still hadn’t told you of him being a spiritual creature. He was worried that you would become scared and that you would never talk to him again. 

Though those fears were dismissed for now as you began to grin cheekily, “Heh, looks like I’m taller than you now!” 

Rintarou narrowed his eyes and stood up straight so your heights matched. “No we’re not, I was just slouching.”

“You’re always slouching!” 

“Am not.”

“Are too!” 

“Whatever you say. Don’t you have prayers to do? I’ll de- I’ll wait for you to finish,” he asked, rather relieved that he didn’t accidentally admit that he would deliver your prayers to Inari.

“Mm… I’ll pray later! I wanted to play with you right now!” you spoke, pleasantly surprising the young kitsune. “And I wanted to check something…” 

Rintarou’s eyes widened in a mix of fear and shock as a hand suddenly lunged to his side before he felt dainty fingers stroke the fur of his tail. A flame burst from the tail in reaction to the surprise, and he could feel his stomach plummet to hell when he saw the look on your face.

You knew.

Instinctively, he jumped back about three metres, his body sliding on the dirt. His hands made contact with the ground, his lengthening nails digging into the soft soil. Unknowingly, his golden eyes turned a shade of vermillion while large brown ears sprouted from his head, no longer invisible, and his tail waved menacingly behind him. If it weren’t for the human form he still had, one would have thought he was a fox preparing to attack.

It was then that he realised that your body had begun to shake. Your hands trembled in fear and your eyes were watery. There was a light thud as your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, face pale as a sheet. 

What had he done?

Rintarou quickly relaxed his body and stood up, embarrassed. His eyes faded back to their usual golden colour and his long nails returned to their usual length. Seeing no reason to hide his tail or ears, he kept them in view. 

“Why?” he asked softly. 

“I- I didn’t actually...“ Words couldn’t leave you, they only stumbled out from your shaking lips. You were still frozen on the floor. 

“Now you know. And you’re scared.” he mumbled. 

Oh Inari-sama, why did he have to fall for her? 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” Rintarou spoke and reached a hand out, hoping you would take it and stand up like you had on that summer night.

But you only flinched. 

Seeing that, he knew your friendship had changed. 

Rintarou turned around, his tail swishing with his movement before he sprinted off into the wood, fists clenched tightly in frustration. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

It had been three hours or so. Perhaps he could return to the shrine now, he thought. You must’ve finally gotten up and went home. 

He had fully exposed himself right then and though he wished he hadn’t, he knew he couldn’t change it. All he could do was sit on the rock and wish to visit that night once again. 

“Rintarou.” 

Shinsuke’s voice, albeit calm, had never sounded scarier to the younger kitsune. 

“That girl has been waiting for ya.” 

“You don’t know that. She’s probably gone home.” 

“She has not. (Y/N) has been sittin’ on the shrine stairs for two hours now, waitin’ either for you or for the sun to set.” Rintarou was surprised to hear that from Shinsuke. Especially since he had never mentioned your name to the other kitsune before. 

“And judging by the time,” Shinsuke started, “Ya better hurry. She’s got some things to say that I think’d sound better from her mouth than from this senpai.” 

With a nod, Rintarou immediately sprung to his feet and took off down the mountain, letting both gravity and his desire to talk carry him with a speed he hadn’t felt before. He came to a screeching halt as he came out of the woods, seeing you sitting on the stone stairs while fiddling with your little drawstring bag. 

“(Y/N),” he called out, making you jump slightly in surprise to see him again. 

You quickly stood up and began to apologise, “Rintarou, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that and I know I should’ve asked but if I did then I know you’d say you weren’t a kitsune. It’s just that I’ve been suspecting since last year but was always too nervous to ask and I know it was really stupid of-”

“Wait a second.”

The phrase made the avalanche of words stop immediately. 

“You knew?”

“Well… yeah,” you admitted, “I saw your tail a couple of times and sometimes you jump really high, or jump from a high place and you’re fine. And you always make sure I don’t see your back, I guess because of your tail.”

Well. Rintarou hadn’t realised how many mistakes he had been making. 

“I see… You don’t hate me or anything?”

“No way!” you spoke with a big smile. “I think it’s so cool! I’m friends with a kitsune. That’s just... woah!” you waved your hands exaggeratedly to show your emotions which you couldn’t put into words.

“I always thought you’d be scared so I didn’t say anything.” Rintarou admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His cheeks had become a dark shade of pink now. 

“Mm, I wouldn’t be scared of you. You’re nice to me, and you’re a zenko so you wouldn’t do anything bad. The thing just now scared me a bit though, but I know that was because I suddenly touched you when I shouldn’t have.” 

There was a pause as you two thought for a while, figuring out what to say next. 

“Then… can we still be friends?” the kitsune asked shyly, his heart beating with joy to know he hadn’t lost his friend and the girl he had feelings for. 

“Of course.” 

The two of you smiled toothily at each other as the sun began its descent. 

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

“Rin, let’s go to the rock again today!”

“Mm, sure.” 

The summer festival had come again, marking one year since the day you two properly spoke. To Rintarou, it felt unbelievably short and long. Because of the way you visited almost daily, it felt like you had been an integral part of his life. Days you didn’t come to the shrine were spent lazily running around the forest with the twins or acting as Inari’s messenger while thinking about the next day you were meant to come. Yet knowing that you had only been there for one winter of his life versus the many he had experienced made him realise how short of a time you had been there for.

It was funny to think despite the relatively short time he spent with you, he felt like you were the most important thing to him these days. 

So even though he would have to miss another year of the summer festival, he didn’t mind spending it with just you in quiet instead. 

Light footsteps made their way through the forest, the loud laughs and shouts from the crowd below shrinking until they were no more than far off echoes. The path was no longer lit by the warm yellow festival lights from below but rather by the stars and moonlight.

“It’s just as pretty as last year,” you hummed, admiring the fireflies as you pushed back the flowers of the wisteria tree to enter the glade. While you had both visited this place often on your many visits to the shrine, you always had to go back before dark, so this was the rarest sight for you.

After climbing up the rock with ease, an experience you had gotten very used to after multiple times, you waited for Rintarou to jump up before settling yourself comfortably.

“Oh! I bought these before coming up!” you pulled out two small paper packages from your kinchaku, a small drawstring bag your mother made for you with flower-patterned cloth, and unwrapped them. In the first were four pieces of daifuku, and in the other were six small pieces of warabimochi. “I thought we might get hungry!” 

Rintarou smiled and quickly picked a piece of warabimochi before tossing it into his mouth. It bounced on the edge of his lip before entering though, causing the roasted flour to form a little cloud, making a small mess on his face. You giggled at the sight of him coughing a little on the confection. The thought that even yokais like him could be dorky and mess up amused you greatly.

The evening passed quickly, far too quickly for either of your likings. As the moon and stars took their position in the dark blanket above, you two laughed and ate your snacks. It wasn’t the most filling but you two felt happy enough just talking to each other. 

Though your laughter eventually died as the topic of what you were doing tomorrow came up. The once bright smile on your face faded and your gaze couldn’t meet Rintarou’s. 

“What’s wrong, (Y/N)?” He asked, “Do you want to go to get more food?” 

“My um… my parents said I can’t come back to play anymore. They said it’s no good to simply talk with boys anymore. And I have to start studying.” Your voice was soft, the topic scaring you, but the kitsune could easily pick it up. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“They said I’m growing older and someday I have to be married. Before that I have to learn to cook and do a bunch of tasks to run the household and well… They say the war’s gonna reach us soon and my family has a little land but we aren’t super influential so it’s especially important I marry someone good.” 

He had heard of the war. A few domains away the territories were being fought over by some big warlords and while he didn’t know the details, he remembered Shinsuke saying it would likely change the course of history. 

But to think that would affect you who were merely a child. You had only turned 10 this year… the thought confused and saddened Rintarou. 

“They said I have to prepare properly to become a woman,” you explained, “So I can’t waste my time running around a forest with a boy from the shrine.”

“You’re getting married?” he asked. Why did he want to know that more than anything else you mentioned?

“Huh? No no! I’m just preparing to. But I really don’t want to. I hate it so much. I won’t get to see you in forever, Rin!” Tears came to your eyes as you threw your arms around his shoulders. 

The boy awkwardly wrapped his arms around your body and patted your back, letting you cry onto his jinbei. He just had no idea what to say, what was right to say, or what you wanted to hear. Even if he had surpassed you in years he had lived long ago, his mental age was roughly the same as yours if not younger.

“We’ll see each other again, I’m sure,” was the only thing he could think to say right now, “Even if it’ll be a while.”

You sniffed and looked up from his shoulder. Your eyes met, staring at each other in silence.

“Really?” your voice squeaked, body still tense until Rintarou gently stroked your hair. Strangely your body immediately untensed and you felt at ease. Maybe it was a power of his, though you were sure it was just him.

“Yeah. I promise.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever even get to come back.”

Rintarou thought for a moment, what could he say? He was never that great with words. 

“If you’re lonely then… look at the moon. And the sky. I’ll be looking at it too, just like we always do.” he replied, cheeks turning just a bit pink. He was glad you couldn’t see his face right now. It sounded funny, but he remembered hearing something like that from a storyteller at one of the summer festivals.

You seemed a bit hesitant at first but eventually you smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll do that, Rin.”

He let go of you just as the fireworks began to burst in the sky, prompting you to do the same. The two of you turned your gazes to the sky to watch the performance in the sky just as you had one year ago.

But this time, he noticed that your hand rested on top of his and your head was on his shoulder.

He never wanted this night to end.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Rintarou thought about that night often.

Even if nearly seven summers had passed and he had not seen you once.

He wondered if he would ever see you again, he wanted to see you again. You were someone he could never forget so he hoped you hadn’t forgotten him too.

He wondered where you were, maybe you had moved to a different village and visited a different shrine. Maybe you were living as a servant in that new shogun’s castle. Maybe because of the war you had…

Rintarou shook his head, that couldn’t be the case. He refused to believe it. He just hoped you were okay wherever you were.

As he sat on his rock, gazing up at the sky once again in hopes of today being the day you would return, he sighed to himself. The shrine was being quite noisy these days and he couldn’t be bothered to be around all the sound so he had stayed away. There was some sort of event they were preparing for, he wasn’t sure what exactly but he didn’t care that much. He’d deal with the prayers and such afterwards.

Until he sniffed the air and smelled your familiar scent.

Rintarou had never sat up straighter before practically propelling himself off of the rock to run down to the shrine.

He would finally get to see you again! He wondered if you had grown much taller than him in the years, as he hadn’t grown all that much since that summer day. He cursed his slow growth as a kitsune but in truth it didn’t bother him that much. Though he wondered if you had matured a lot and if you would still be willing to run around in the forest with him. You probably would, right? Just for fun? Rintarou would even slow down if you wished, so you would, right?

His heart was racing as he sprinted down the mountain slope towards the shrine before coming to an abrupt halt. 

A wedding ceremony...

And you were the bride?

Even if you looked completely different, wearing a pure white shiromuku while your hair was done up and hidden in the white wataboshi veil, he could still tell it was you. Even with the heavy makeup on your now matured face, he knew it was you.

Rintarou felt his guts want to simultaneously drop out from him and to also come out from his throat. There was an intense pain in his chest and throat which made him just want to scream in utter agony but all he could do was stand among the trees, completely still and yet trembling like the autumn leaves falling around him as his eyes widened in a mixture of intense emotions.

“Look at that wedding, ‘Samu. We haven’t had one of those around in a while have we?” Rintarou turned to see the twins standing a couple metres away from them, watching the ceremony as well.

“Yeah. I guess with the war now people are getting married less.” Osamu replied to his older brother, “But that’s one of the shogun’s vassals’ vassals. Or somethin’ like that. So no wonder he can afford to.” 

You were getting married to someone like that?

Rintarou stared at the man beside you - he was taller, stronger, and looked far older than he was, especially dressed in his plain black kimono, haori, and hakama set. The kitsune’s small hand crept up his chest and beat it lightly, as if trying to get his heart to restart itself but it just felt painful as he slowly crouched on the soil.

“You were waiting for her, weren’t ya?” Shinsuke’s calm voice spoke from behind the younger kitsune.

As much as he wanted to, Rintarou couldn’t turn away from the wedding. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the smile on your red lips despite how painful it was. Words couldn’t express how badly he wanted to hug you and ask if you remembered him, to wipe the makeup from your face in the same manner he would wipe the dirt from your cheeks after you tripped into mud on those days you played together, to ask you to even talk to him once more. But he knew there was a high chance he would never see you ever again after today.

“Yeah. I was.” the boy sighed as calmly as he could, though it wasn’t hard for Shinsuke to hear the shake in his voice.

The four spirits watched as you and your new husband partook in the san san kudo, drinking sake from the three cups and officially recognising each other as spouses. Your family and friends cheered to see the completion of the ceremony. Smiles could be seen on nearly every person on the shrine grounds and as much as Rintarou hated to admit it, you wore a smile too.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he could have been the one to put that smile on your face. 

All he could do now was to wish for your continued happiness as he passed on your prayers to the god.

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:•:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Many years had passed. If he was correct, twenty summers had passed, though he wasn’t counting anymore. Twenty summers without you felt like an awfully long time, though time felt like it was flying these days. Certainly faster than the seven years before then where everyday was spent longing for you.

Rintarou noticed that the four foxes had grown taller too, though it seemed like he still had some time to grow. He had grown two new tails too. He wondered how you looked now. If he could he would have left the shrine to see you, but with the war going on more prayers were being offered than ever. 

He wondered if it was foolish of him, but for nearly every day of the past twenty years, he had been clinging on to the hope that one day you would come visit him. Of course, your feelings would be different, but that didn’t matter. All he wanted was to be able to see you again.

Though he hadn’t seen you, he remembered seeing your mother come to the shrine about a year after the wedding to thank Inari for the safe delivery of your new twins. “That’s because of us!” Atsumu boasted once he heard the news (though Shinsuke insisted it was not). Aside from that, Rintarou never heard about you.

Until one day.

“Do you remember that samurai who got married to a woman from this village about twenty years ago?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“The woman passed away last week from some sickness.”

“No way…”

“Yeah, I think the old shrine maidens said she used to come to the shrine a lot as a kid to play in the woods. They liked her a lot.”

“Then it’s good they aren’t around to hear about her either…”

“Mm, I think so too.”

Rintarou’s skin turned to ice upon hearing the news. Suddenly his usual position on the rooftop no longer felt so comforting. His head pounded and his heart felt like it had stopped, a feeling he hadn’t felt since the day he first saw you. 

He didn’t know what to do. 

He just continued to lie on the roof, hands folded over his stomach as the once soft sky suddenly became a glaring shade of blue and white. Even if he closed his eyes, it hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

He continued to lay there for the next few hours, mind empty as he closed his eyes and simply thought of the sky and of you. Memories of watching the clouds, of climbing trees, of fishing in the little lake, and especially of the fireworks. 

By the time he opened his eyes, Rintarou noticed the moon and stars had already taken their place. It was a sky he had only shared with you twice but somehow looking at it always made him feel comforted; knowing even if you two were far away, you were still watching the same sky, moon, and stars. Just as he said all those years ago. 

But that was no longer the case.

He blinked and the twinkling stars had become blurry. Suddenly they had multiplied and the kitsune felt liquid trail down the side of his face. He laughed to himself lightly and sat up to wipe away the tears. 

The once cooling wind of autumn suddenly grew a chilling bite as it blew a cloud to obscure the pale moon above.

As he looked up at the sky, he thought of how foolish he had been to cling to the hope that you would someday come back to see him, or to have fallen for you in the first place. 

And oh how foolish Rintarou had been to think of the most beautiful girl he had seen whenever he looked up at the once beautiful sky.

[lactodebillus-bulgaricus]

Hetalia OCs (1st & 2nd out of 4)

as I was writing my crackfic, I came up with various OCs and here are 2 of them

I tried drawing them in a realistic style

here have some horse-riding nomads (horses are not included in the pictures)

1 and 2: Onoghur & Bulgar

I imagine that they both are tall, muscular & fit

they were married

they’re the parents of danube & volga bulgaria

they also had 2 other kids who failed to create their own states, got assimilated and passed away

they loved each other in their own way (they weren’t super cheesy or affectionate) and treated each other well, but would argue often about things such as Onoghur being cold to the kids, they didn’t insult each other

Onoghur / Onoghuria

aggressive, but not towards her close ones

kinda impulsive

down-to-earth, pragmatic, but not materialistic

doesn’t care about wealth, luxury, etc, she only wants to pillage enough stuff to get by and take care of her family

independent, freedom and dignity above all

hates being controlled and doesn’t try controlling others

doesn’t manipulate others but can easily detect manipulation

headstrong

despises those who hurt the weak; protective

chiller and quieter than her husband, more willing to stop and think

intelligent, easily sniffs out people’s fears and insecurities

takes people out with a few sentences or a short remark

likes to give advice, even if nobody asked. usually the advice is to act in a cold, violent, domineering, arrogant or self-centered way

definitely not feminine or nurturing, didn’t care about societal roles and stuff

yet she likes embroidery. she’s the one who embroiders the clothes in the household.

she saw emotions such as maternal love as weaknesses, she also excused her coldness towards her sons by saying that being shown affection will make them weak

however she had no problem with expressing affection towards horses, she’d hug them, pet their necks and comb their manes

when the future danube bulgaria saw her doing that, he burst into tears and ran off, hurt that his mom loved horses more than him

emotionally self-sufficient. still, life’s more fun if there are other people around besides her.

not clingy

kinda cold. if she lost her husband and kids, she’d be sad, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. she wouldn’t mourn them for long (e.g. years)

didn’t wear jewellery

her clothes were rather simple and clean

I imagine that she wore clothes in red, white, olive green, muted shades of green and brown, as well as dark gray and black

Bulgar / Old Great Bulgaria

loud

smug

very confident

energetic

almost always in an uplifted mood

impulsive

aggressive, but not towards his close ones

determined

free-spirited and independent

not materialistic, but will wear lots of gold stuff like he’ll have gold lamé at the hems of his kaftan, gold applications on his belt, gold belt buckles etc he subconsciously wants to show his power and how he defeated others to get that, how he’s stronger than others etc, he doesn’t care about luxury and status, he wants to display power

protective of his family

likes to prank people and tell stupid jokes

his pranks can be quite sadistic and mean-spirited though. like in my crackfic, he enjoys haunting people, insulting them, scaring them and devising new ways to terrify them. america is his favourite bullying victim due to alfred’s fear of ghosts.

when he and his wife were still alive, they’d go troll and harass others together, as well as go to war and pillage together

however, in a serious au, I’d make him more serious and composed

doesn’t care about material stuff, just like Onoghur (unless it’s to boast)

bullies people who try hard to appear tough and who hurt others to appear strong

self-sufficient and non-clingy. see Onoghur above

likes to give advice, even if nobody asked. see Onoghur above

likes to roast people, especially if they happen to be Khazaria

makes fun of his enemies, especially if they happen to be Khazaria

likes new stuff

likes yogurt a bit too much

thinks that saying “you know what else X“ and exclaiming “BULGARIAN YOGURT!“ afterwards is a joke

thinks that saying “you know who else does X / likes Y / is Z“ and exclaiming “ME U DUMBASS“ is a joke

his skull was artificially deformed when he was a kid. (this is not the reason behind the stupid jokes though, his brain is intact... or not. you can get hit in the head only this many times before u become a weirdo who repeats dumb jokes. he shouldn’t have gone to so many wars. oh well he was very warlike. guess the helmet didn’t protect him enough)

he’d wear clothes in scarlet red, vermilion, royal blue and golden, with details in dark shades of brown or black

he liked wearing belts with gold on them and lots of details

his sabre’s scabbard was covered in gold and gems

his favourite child was the future danube bulgaria. he always compared the future volga bulgaria to him. he neglected the other 2

however, he’d call the future danube bulgaria “stupid“ if he failed to meet his expectations

he’s the son of the Hunnic Empire, who’d deform his skull and abuse him by burning his cheeks or slashing them with a sword to teach him to endure pain and to prevent him from ever growing a beard. however, as bulgars didn’t practice the face scarring custom, he regenerated once he started living on his own and grew a beard

they got along due to their similar personalities, having the same ideals (freedom and dignity above all), their love for war and pillaging and the same high self-esteem (each of them saw himself/herself as the best and saw his/her partner as the only one who was as good and as strong as him/her)

sadly they weren’t the best parents. also khazaria probably killed them both, leaving their kids orphans. one ran away to the lower danube (the bulgaria we all know and love), another was under khazar rule until khazaria’s death and lived in the middle volga area, the remaining two ran away to the avar khaganate. later, one of the two went where modern day macedonia is, but failed to sustain a country, so he died as a result of assimilation. the other one went to where modern day italy is, failed to create or sustain a country and also died due to assimilation.

idk if I managed to draw them in a fitting manner. Bulgars apparently looked Eurasian, leaning more towards the European side (and Onoghurs probably weren’t much different), I think that my designs might be too European looking, dunno, I’m not an antropologist

(also, modern day Bulgarians are European cuz the Bulgars that came here were much less numerous than the Slavs and the native Balkan populations so they got assimilated, leaving their name, that’s also why Bulgaria is Slavic)

[silkylious]

Safe (Kaminari Denki x Reader)

Warnings: slight angst/insecurities, comfort, fluff Pairing: kaminari denki x reader Prompt: #58 “You make me feel safe”

A/N: idk why but i hc that kaminari is actually very insecure but jokes around and shit as a coping mechanism. can you sense the self projection here. hope you enjoy this, it was very fun to write!

You sprung forward, eyes wide awake with alarm. Your mind struggled to catch up with your body; phantom sensations still lingering on your skin, static scenes of vibrant blue flames scorched into your brain as your heavy breaths died down into a slightly more regulated rhythm. This was the fifth time this week. It’s been two full months since the training camp, two full months since you’ve moved into the dorms and you still weren’t over it yet. The nightmares just wouldn’t stop.

You plopped back down on the mattress, exasperated and thoroughly annoyed at having your precious slumber cut short. Again. Honestly, for such a prestigious school, U.A. has probably the worst counseling team you’ve ever seen­– or haven’t seen, because despite several of your classmates showing painfully obvious signs of trauma, the school staff has barely stepped in. You huffed at the administration’s incompetence, turning on your side to glare at nothing in particular. A ping interrupted your train of thought, drawing your attention to the device laying on your nightstand. You snatched your phone, unlocking it and immediately squinting at the brightness before checking the time. Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who.

Pika pika⚡: [image] [image] [image]

some maymays for when you wake up 😌😌

You: they’re called memes ffs

Pika pika⚡: you’re awake??👀

You: no.

The message was left on seen, though the interface of the messaging up was replaced by that of an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile stretched your tired features at the picture of you and Kaminari grinning at the camera. You accepted the call.

“Why are you up?” His voice came through mildly distorted but still as loud as ever, too loud for three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t sleep,” Your answer was slightly muffled by a yawn, betraying just how exhausted you were. The silence that proceeded was deafening, neither of you uttering a word, but you could faintly hear his even breathing. It was oddly calming. You sigh, lids blinking to fight off your drowsiness.

“…You’re still having nightmares?” Words tinged with worry, his voice was much quieter now, gentler. If anything, Kaminari was a great friend. He’d proven that to you time and time again. He was the only one that could tell when you were drowning in hushed misery, seeing through your well-constructed front like it was second nature to him. For someone so astoundingly moronic, he was extremely socially intelligent, and even observant when he wanted to be. And for the umptieth time, he’s showing you just how easily he could pick up on the small traces of discomfort in your voice, the silent plea left unspoken from your lips.

“Yeah…” The reply didn’t come out as resolute as you’d wished it would have been. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how hard you willed yourself to level your tone in hopes of fending off his concerns, you knew it would all crumble at some point. Go figure your strong façade would fall apart in front of him. It’s always been him. For some reason unknown to you (yet), confiding in him just felt right, secure.

More silence ensued.

Denki was a natural at detecting people’s emotions, but that’s as far as his expertise would go. Sure, he knew how to encourage others, pushing them past their insecurities was as easy as breathing to him. With bright, golden hues and an obnoxiously dorky grin, all he had to do was utter a few optimistic words and that would get the job done. But comfort? Vulnerability? That was so far beyond the shallow waters he’d grown accustomed to. Sentimentalities weren’t his thing, he simply didn’t posses the wisdom and eloquence needed to deal with such situations. His immediate reaction would be to crack a joke, fruitless attempts at lightening the mood but he knew there was a time and place for jests, and this wasn’t one of them. Awkwardness and half-hearted jabs were his immediate reaction… because that’s how he dealt with his own problems too.

“Hey… can I come over? We can play animal crossing or something,” You sure as shit wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in this state. You needed a distraction. A friend.

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you even care if we got caught?”

A light chuckle. “No,”

“Exactly. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead, he stared at the blank screen of his phone before flopping onto his back. Why you’d be so open with him of all people when he saw just how uneasy around his other classmates, he didn’t know. The list of people he thought were more deserving of your trust was almost unending, and he wasn’t even close to the top of it. One thought brought forward another, each one getting progressively more deprecative, and the sloppily sewn patch over his self-doubt started to tear, ripped off its poorly embedded stitches. He was confident in himself, until he joined class 1-A that is. He just felt… there compared to his peers. His body was nothing to laugh at, but his build was still considerably lean compared to the people he was around. The fact that such a talented, hardworking person had taken interest in him was frankly baffling. He wasn’t as flashy as Todoroki, or as powerful as Bakugo, or as brainy as Midoriya. He was just him. Lackluster, average him. It only added insult to injury when he’d witnessed how they looked at you. They pined for you, and he couldn’t blame them. He craved you too. But god, the nagging thought that you were wasting your time hanging around someone like him, that he was stealing you away from people who were (in his opinion) glaringly more worthy of cherishing you than him, it just wouldn’t go away. You had so many stronger, smarter, better options out there that he couldn’t help but be reminded of how lacking– inadequate he was compared to seemingly everyone else. And yet you chose to get close to him. In a superhuman class full to the brim with prodigies and workaholics, you picked him. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

He was fished into reality and away from his sea of self-doubt when he heard three consecutive knocks on his door. Just how long had he laid there, wallowing?

The door creaked open and you were greeted with the glorious sight of Kaminari in a Pikachu onesie, a ruffled (adorable) tuft of electric, blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. You snorted.

“Nice pj’s,”

Denki blinked, looking down only to realize that he hadn’t changed out of his onesie because of his overthinking session. An embarrassed chuckle escaped him as he scratched at the side of his cheek, a lopsided smile and a cherry tint creeping up his complexion.

“What can I say, I always have to be on brand.”

You loved that about him. He seemed so laid-back, uncaring, willing to roll with whatever punches were thrown at him, playing off jocular comments and rude insults alike with practiced ease. Giggling past him, you situated on his bed, ready to forget about your nightmares and just have fun with your friend. And if Denki was a genius at anything, it was having fun.

Hours flew by at the pace of minutes, it was now six in the morning, the sun had begun to show its yellow glow and you’d spent the entirety of dawn kicking Kaminari’s butt at Mario kart, sharing laughs and fleeting touches. He liked this, you liked this. Despite knowing that he wasn’t by any means the best suitor for you, he couldn’t halt the need to monopolize you. How could he, when your very presence (unbeknownst to you) shoved his insecurities unceremoniously into the backseat in favor of enjoying the moment with you? He hadn’t a clue how you did it, but you always managed to shoo away his doubts just by being there, and he selfishly couldn’t (and wouldn’t) let go of that. You immersed him in riveting ventures of the now, miles and acres away from his overbearing thoughts. All without even trying, without even knowing it.

It was the weekend (thank fuck) and sleeping in sounded like heaven on earth right now. If it weren’t for your nightmares. The fear of recounting those horrid memories in horrific detail again barred your eyes from sleep, regardless of how spent you were. Apparently, Denki’s spidey-friendship senses kicked in again, because he immediately noticed the apprehension on your face, the stiffness in your movements as you were preparing to leave. He knew exactly what was up with you, and he couldn’t let you leave like that, it would eat him up for days. He grabbed your wrist as you turned for the door.

“Do you wanna stay?”

Maybe it was your exhausted mind finally turning into mush, or maybe it was the softness in his voice, the docile concern in his eyes that made you agree on staying. Your compliance surprised you both, honestly. You were both very aware that you wouldn’t have accepted the offer had it been anyone else. But in retrospect it seemed rational. After all, throughout the whole night, not once did you think back to the horrors that would visit you in your sleep, not once did you feel the crippling anxiety clawing at the frayed edges of your psyche. Instead you felt secure, sound. Safe. And you came to an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of sleep that scared you, maybe it was the impending loneliness, isolation and uncertainty that you’d often experience without him.

“Yes,”

You laid there, facing each other, a considerable distance between you. No words exchanged, yet you could tell there was a lot on his mind. He decided to voice it all in one question. He knew you were smart enough to catch the underlying self-doubt in his vaguely worded inquiry. Whether you pointed it out or not was entirely up to you, however.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

The articulation caught you off guard, you’d never seen him so… unsure before. Your mind raced with the different possible implications behind his wording, though you decided to quell them all with one single sentence. You smiled, soft and lazy, moving closer to seek out some of his warmth.

“You make me feel safe, Denki.”

And he really did. Even though you came to the revelation mere minutes ago, you accepted it swimmingly, it felt right to do so. It startled you how ready you were to embrace the newfound feelings, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kaminari was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t expected that response from you and he honestly still couldn’t rationalize it completely either. But for now, the budding feeling in his heart trumped over his ever-present uncertainty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[gillian-greenwood]

My initial thoughts and theories on the upcoming series of Line Of Duty.

Okay so this introduction isn't the one I initially wrote, what started as a quick summary of my thoughts after seeing the trailer and easter eggs turned into hours of my brain going into the depths of Line of Duty madness. We are under a week to go until series 6 finally hits our screens and there has been so much more teased already with interviews with the cast and so on. So, here cometh an essay of me turning into Charlie from It's always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Before I go into each point, I've tried to split my thoughts into different sections as there are more significant things that I think will feature in Series 6. These are all what I personally think will happen or likely scenarios if I'm undecided - I've listened, watched and read plenty of other theories too and I've really been enjoying it. With a show such as this, we do go totally crazy! I did see something mere moments ago where Martin stated that he's seen some 'spot on' theories - 1) it makes me excited to hear the cast are reading what we think and 2) I've more than likely read what's going to happen but I don't know it at this point - that's kinda insane!

So, I'm now going to get into the main points and then will address smaller things later on. For those of you who read all my rambles and thoughts, I really appreciate it: hopefully then I'm not completely talking to myself. I could be right, I could be wrong in these. But that's part and parcel of theorising. I've seen some great theories and seen some crazy theories but I really appreciate anyone who has taken time to share them. I mean we've got to have the outrageous and completely nutty theories, we need a good giggle!

So here we go...

Who is the fourth “dot”?

The one question that has been firmly on all our minds over these past couple of years has been whom is the fourth person pulling all the strings for organised crime? We know H isn’t a singular person but a code name for multiple people. According to Dot’s dying declaration, there are four dots, or four caddies - however you want to call it. I'm definitely sick of the whole who's H question (hence referring to it as the fourth dot) as it has been established that H isn't just a person - but so many are still completely attached to the idea of H and I think it's because that whole plotline wasn't completely rounded off or people weren't satisfied with the revelation so have become quite obsessed with it. I’ve felt a bit strange about the whole revelation since series 5 aired in 2019 though - I felt it was a huge stretch Steve recognising the Morse code from one still frame and coming to the conclusion he shares with Ted - that Dot was trying to communicate in Morse Code - I’m going to elaborate more on the declaration further on.

But back to the main question before we trail off too far! We have several possibilities. Off the bat, I can’t see it being any of the main three at all. Already, Steve has been accused of being “the caddy” and Ted has been accused of being “H” (Which in fairness has transpired to be the same thing) - Kate on the other hand has not yet come under suspicion of being bent and involved with organised crime. The trailer has cleverly hinted that it may well be Kate’s turn at being on the other side of the table. But, it’s being too obvious - creating discussion - very similar to what happened with Ted. I know a lot of people have suspicion over Kate and have done for a long while and I can see why - I just can’t see it concluding that she's the definition of corrupt - she's not completely squeaky clean but I don't think she's been a mastermind in all of this. It would be a very shocking twist but it wouldn’t make loads of sense to me with other things that's happened in the show. I do feel though Kate deserves a whole section to herself so I'll definitely go over all that further on. Main three aside - we have three other favourable suspects in my eyes.

Firstly, PCC Rohan Sindhwani was introduced in series 5 - dedicated to exposing corruption amongst the police force, running on a platform of transparency and working alongside DCC Andrea Wise. We don’t see much of him however his one direct link to organised crime is Gill Biggeloe - his senior legal counsel who was exposed as being one of the corrupt members of the police force. When things continued to go “pear shaped” with Operation Pear Tree - his mantra of complete transparency meant that he’d have to highlight the lack of progress - however rightfully so he’s been advised to suppress the truth and Gill very conveniently stresses that he needs to retain public confidence - and that having a “non-exclusive relationship with the truth” is part of the role of the PCC. As series 5 wraps up, he looks uneasy about the conclusions of Operation Pear Tree that were shared with the public - that there was no links to corruption and organised crime - which were of course completely against his own personal principles. During series 5 he hasn’t really displayed any tendencies of being bent, quite frankly the complete opposite. Although that's not to say he isn't dodgy. The trailer for series 6 has cleverly been cut together and tried to make him appear suspicious. However, I think it’s extremely unlikely that it’ll be him - he’s far too new of a character and has supposed strong ambitions to cut out all the rotten apples within the ranks. Gill could have easily sent him astray but I'm just not buying him being involved with organised crime at all. So I’m happily ruling him out.

Next we have the newly promoted DSU Ian Buckells. Having first appeared all the way back in the beginning of series 1 as the SIO on the Jackie Laverty case, appointed by Derek Hilton - he was a bit of a verruca on TO20’s foot - therefore being made to feel unwelcome by DCI Tony Gates who he replaced - no surprise there. As the first series progresses - there’s not much reason to think of him as bent, he just looks like a detective lacking passion and just turns up to do what he has to do. There are little details though that become apparent when re-watching. He has a connection first and foremost to Derek Hilton having been appointed by him personally but even at this point, there wasn’t reason to suspect Hilton either - therefore plays off as a totally innocent matter. Next, after DC Kate Fleming interviews a young Ryan Pilkington, he turns up flustered and very disgruntled that Kate has proceeded to interview him - especially after it transpires she was an undercover officer from Anti-Corruption. On early viewing - it's easy to put that down to the fact Kate had gotten there first and because it transpired she was an UCO. But we never see what went on in the respective interview apart from Ryan asking for a Big Mac. We last see Buckells allowing Dot to talk to Tommy Hunter after he’s arrested - and we all know how that turned out. But, it does appear that Buckells hasn't got a clue what's going on, he just shrugs and gives that whole yeah no skin off my nose approach, displaying quite a laid-back and care free attitude still. Buckells reappears in series 4 as the replacement SIO on Operation Trap Door after DCI Roz Huntley is removed from the case, again appointed by Derek Hilton and coincidentally where Kate is again undercover. No surprise Kate looks worried as they'd already crossed paths at TO20. Hastings and Arnott quite rightly confront Buckells and instruct him to keep Fleming's true identity secret and if her cover was compromised, everyone would know who to blame. When her cover is initially blown, the first and foremost conclusion was Buckells had not listened to strict instructions given. However, after details of Kate's personal life were leaked also, Kate didn't feel like the leak had come from Buckells as it was unlikely he knew anything regarding that. And, when confronted, Buckells concluded spitefully that UCO's have a shelf life therefore easily being recognisable after time. This is the last we see of him. The theory that Buckells could be the fourth dot has certainly become more spoken about recently. He's been featured in the show since the beginning albeit for two of the series, and will be appearing in series 6 too, part of Hillside Lane nick. The fact he's quite an unpopular and quieter member of the force could hide him in plain sight to being bent. In black and white, the idea of Buckells ordering hits and pulling strings for some of the most dangerous criminals is kind of hilarious. But, evidently there are little details scattered during his stints on the show that have got people talking. I do feel Jed has always known from the start who's bent and who isn't or has at least had the basics thought out - I've never seen a writer with such sharp continuity, there are plenty of writers and creators that should really take note! But, moving on from my very slight tangent - do I think Buckells is the fourth dot? Okay, I've changed my mind on this numerous times but since watching the trailer, I'm more cemented on no. I think there could be some dodgy stuff going on with Buckells, he's ascended up the ranks quite quickly, even if he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed at times. We often say it's always the quiet ones. And he's had connections to Hilton but I'd be very surprised if he's been calling the shots. His whole demeanour could have been a farce from the off but I think we have more chance of floating up the lagan in a bubble. I mean he looked like he'd been caught robbing an orchard when he was confronted by Ted and Steve. I think he'll pose an interesting asset to the new series but I

don't think he'll be the main guy.

The third person is the new Chief Constable Philip Osborne. In series 1, he was the Chief Inspector for the Counter Terrorism Unit where Steve was involved in the wrongful killing of Karim Ali. He demanded that the team lie about the incident so the killing was justified however Steve refused and was ultimately removed from the unit and subsequently assigned to AC12. He does crop again as the series progresses, seemingly having a close relationship with Hilton (they all seem to be close to Hilton) and after DCI Tony Gates diverts the motive behind the murders on the Borogrove estate being linked to terrorism and not drug dealing. He's last seen at the inquest into the death of Karim Ali which led to no prosecutions for any of the officers involved. It has since been revealed he's the new Chief Constable of Central Police as of Series 6 and I'm sure he's bound to appear. Whilst not heavily featured over the show's run, I'm feeling it likely for him to be the fourth dot. Just like Buckells, he's had direct connection to Hilton and definitely appeared to have at least a professional friendship. He was quick to order a cover up into a wrongful shooting. And was very willing to help with the possible terrorism links with the incidents on the Borogrove Estate which were bogus. Whilst off-screen he's worked his way up to the top. Ted remarks in the trailer "A bare faced liar, promoted to our highest office!" - and whilst it alludes to him talking about Sindhwani - I think that's going to be way too obvious. I think he's either talking to or talking about Osborne. Of course Ted was very supportive of Steve during the inquest in series 1 and was definitely not impressed by Osborne's actions and wouldn't be pleased with him being the CC. Also, the show would ultimately be going full circle to the beginning again and I really like the idea of that happening. So much of series 1 has been significant later on. We've not had much screen time with Osborne but I think he's my favourite to be the fourth dot. He certainly fits the bill of being corrupt and has plausible connections. There's a scene with Osborne, Hilton and Dot in series 1 and I certainly love the idea of three of the most corrupt officers being thrown right in our faces right at the beginning and us all being none the wiser. I'd considered him before but after the trailer and easter eggs, it's looking far more likely. Of course no one knew that the show would have become the roaring success it has back in series 1 however I am confident Jed had foundations in place and possible scenarios as to where the show would go.

In conclusion, there are plenty of possibilities of who this mysterious fourth dot is, but I'm happy with my conclusion of Osborne. Hopefully after the seven episodes I can either be impressed with my deductions or cringe as to why I ever came to such conclusions!

Dot Cottan's Dying Declaration

Series 3 concluded with the death of DI Matthew Cottan whom AC12 finally learned was the real caddy and not DS Steve Arnott who Dot had tried to pin it on. His explosive exit is mine and many people's favourite series finale. We only saw a glance of his declaration that DC Kate Fleming took - that then led to the conviction of Patrick Fairbank. It's not until series 4 however where PC Maneet Bindra is blackmailed to harvest this declaration and we as viewers finally get to view more - having been recorded on a fellow officers body-cam. Kate tries to get Dot to reveal the top dog by asking him "blink twice for the first letter of his name" - we all know he blinks at H however the medics intervene before Kate can get him to finish. This was of course the first encounter with "H". We revisit Dot's dying declaration in series 5 during Ted's questioning by AC3 - again we're shown the same part, slightly extended to showcase the morse code sequence, however, Kate's dialogue is different - now saying "right, blink with the first two letters of his name." I personally never noticed this until I saw others discussing it and apparently they differed in the scripts too so was a deliberate move by Jed. I think this will be picked up in some regard and Kate herself will come under fire for it. I believe the body-cam footage was actually shot along with series 4 and Craig Parkinson was invited back for the scenes which subsequently featured again in series 5 too - and I'm feeling confident they shot both versions as Jed would have likely had future plots planned out. Like series 1-3 had some kind of arc, I think 4-6 is the exact same and a lot of things will be rounded off. I imagine it will be picked up that there are two versions of the declaration. I know there are very mixed feelings on this subject but knowing the way Jed works, the differences will be significant. I will be very shocked and disappointed if this is not addressed but seeing how we left the previous series with more questions thanks to the declaration, it surely has to feature again. The question of why it was changed? I think it was more than likely doctored by Hilton to try and incriminate Hastings for being H - blinking for the first two letters, H being first, Kate trying to start the sequence again but being cut off by medics, what's first? A! Hilton replaced the original with the edited version which was able to be accessed by the necessary personnel however I'm sure the original still exists somewhere, possibly for leverage? But how could he have changed the dialogue and make it sound convincing? It's farfetched and I mean I'm sure anything's possible but the whole Morse Code thing was also very farfetched too so I'm at that point of my tether where that could honestly happen. Hastings of course has seen both versions and Kate having been the one taking the declaration surely would have noticed but there is no indication that he's noticed a difference nor Kate. And after the meeting he shared with Hilton in series 4, I'm sure that was the trigger of him editing it. Or Kate could have edited herself which a lot of fans have suggested but the only was she'd have access surely is if she was bent - this is a really hard one because there's a lot of theories! Mine is a wild and very patchy theory but I just can't see them not addressing the fact that they were different. Again I'll cover a bit more about Kate's possible involvement in her own section.

And mentioning the Morse code aspect of the declaration - anyone I've spoken to personally about it were left feeling conflicted with the whole idea. Is it going to be a total red-herring and Steve has clearly been barking up the wrong tree? No doubt there is still someone who's very corrupt within the force but I wouldn't have left the series hanging on that revelation if it were to turn out to have no meaning. Also, there were many easier ways of indicating the number four - but then again Dot was pretty much dead at this point so wasn't exactly able to function properly, haha!

To summarise I think we'll see the declaration again and both versions will be flagged and we'll find out why. If we're thinking about series 4, 5 and 6 having an arc, it is a very important aspect to be answered and concluded. I'm rather excited about them going into this again. I can see Hilton having doctored the footage but Kate will come under fire for it. Or maybe Kate did it herself, but why? What has she got to gain, unless she's bent, or been blackmailed? This is going to be a headache, I can sense it now! Imagine if we got the answers from Dot himself... nah, he's dead.

DCI Joanne Davidson

Kelly MacDonald has taken over the lead guest role baton and it's very exciting! We have finally seen more than a glimpse of her character in the trailer and teaser. All we know thus far is she is the DCI at Hillside Lane Station and that she'll be coming under scrutiny for her handling of the Gail Vella murder case. Kate appears to be on her team (as herself or undercover is currently a mystery) and alongside we have DSU Buckells, PS Farida Jatri and newcomer DS Lomax (Played by Perry Fitzpatrick). Honestly one of the first questions that plagued on my mind was will she survive? Four out of the five prior lead guest stars have met a grizzly end. I mean let's face it Roz didn't exactly escape unscathed either with only one hand left. It's hard to judge before the series starts on the guest lead. We were led up the wrong path last series with Stephen Graham. I know this next series will be jam-packed and the most insane yet so I'm expecting a lot from Kelly's character! I think she's going to be the most complex of the leads and I think we'll be often changing our minds about her - from what we've seen she seems a promising and good copper, but PS Jatri has stated in the trailer 'you don't know what's she's capable of,' very exciting! I'm looking forward to her being interrogated, she'll knock those scenes out of the park! It's hard to put predictions out there when there's not a lot to go on but I'm sure I'll have more solid theories once the series has started!

Have Kate and Steve really left AC12?

We've been accustom to a couple of teasers. Steve talking to his ex Nicola Rogerson about feeling that his road with anti-corruption is at an end and looking likely to be joining her team. Maybe he does feel this way because he still hasn't got his promotion!!! Some people have suggested he might have instead been demoted, ouch! Then Kate out with Joanne and her team, referring to her as 'boss'. I'm sure Kate's undercover but perhaps maintaining the farce that she's moved on from AC12. As Ian Buckells stated, UCO's have a shelf-life and I'm sure she'd be recognised by most forces now, especially with the awards she's won. Then again she could just be plainly undercover - what surnames beginning with F hasn't she used? Haha! We haven't seen Steve undercover in the same way as Kate, he was technically undercover when being all pally with Lindsay Denton but it would be cool to see him as a full blown UCO and I don't think he'd be suspected. But why would Steve be going undercover? That's what I'd be unsure on. Again, plenty of questions with not many answers. AC12 has come under fire plenty of times so it's likely it's in favour of being dissolved, especially with an easter egg of CC Osborne highlighting AC12 as a cause of concern, especially with Ted running the ranks still. Or is it a massive twist that Kate has really left and Steve is following suit? I remember when they first started filming in early 2020 there was a tweet shared with a picture of Martin, Adrian and Jed - captioned "But where's Kate?" - of course we were all quick to speculate that she was undercover but from the information we now have, she may in fact have moved on. We know she has rekindled her marriage but things still looked rocky - maybe she has left to save her marriage by working in a department where she's going to be a 'better mum and wife.' (Come on her husband was a total dick.) However, I do like the idea of the fact that she's undercover, but only Ted knows, so even Steve believes her AC12 days are over - and that could even be ammunition for him to leave as he's got itchy feet not having Kate as his working partner anymore - but as I said maybe Steve is moving on because there's no promotion or even a demotion. (Oh I love the joking about his poor promotion that got lost in the post). But, from other behind the scenes snippets we've seen also, our favourite trio look to be working together within AC12, so whatever happens, they'll be all back in their rightful places eventually. To add, Adrian said on Graham Norton the first episode starts in an unexpected place with a lot for us to get our heads around - so I imagine things are going to appear very different first thing and our favourites being absent is looking highly likely! Weighing up the options, I am leaning towards Kate being secretly undercover whilst everyone believes she's in fact moved on. I'm guessing Steve will be going undercover as well, I don't feel he'd leave AC12 on his own accord with so much still unsolved without absolute good reason - unless of course, no promotion (I'll stop now).

Has Steve Arnott FINALLY got his promotion?

(Sorry I'm not stopping) A major running joke now - poor Steve has remained a DS throughout the show. Whilst Kate progressed from DC to DI between series 3 and 5. Series 4 featured both Steve and Kate eager to progress to Detective Inspector. Ted favoured Steve due to 'experience' - leaving Kate extremely disheartened. Fair enough though, Steve had a lot more years under his belt at the Sergeant level. However Ted had been accused of being sexist and I think that made him uncomfortable. But firstly, Steve found himself in another situation half way through series 4 - being attacked with a baseball bat and chucked down some stairs - leaving him unable to walk and facing the prospect of never walking again. This of course would put any ambitions on hold and something Ted would have to consider too. It's not really touched upon in the rest of the series. When we return in series 5, we quickly learn that Kate is now a DI. More than likely due to Steve's accident but could also be to tick boxes too - Gill Biggeloe does make a point of highlighting that Ted had promoted a woman and joked that would exactly be what a sexist would do. There doesn't appear to be any hostility between Kate and Steve throughout series 5 in regards to this but I do side with Kate on the fact he kept quiet about Corbett being the CHIS because she was an inspector - not the only reason but one of them. Then again, Steve has a tendency to get himself in situations so it's no surprise. Moving forward to the golden question, I think we've all noticed that Steve's epaulettes have been conveniently hidden in promos - however eagle-eyed fans have concluded that it looks like he does in fact have the inspector epaulettes in the trailer. About time! The circumstances around his promotion are hard to guess though. Will he get promoted in the middle of the series - it deserves all the fuss after all right? Or will he be replacing Kate because she's 'moved on' - who knows but I'm feeling confident we'll wrap up series six with Detective Inspector Steve Arnott. Imagine if Jed was teasing us and he doesn't get promoted or has in fact been demoted to DC - it's safe to say we'll all be unhappy haha!

Oh boy, what's occurring with Kate?

Over the past five series, Kate Fleming has been awfully lucky and escaped the main brutal drama - usually Steve being handed it. All she's really endured is her cover being blown on undercover operations, having an affair with her friend Jayne's husband who turned out to be as dodgy as Jayne and ultimately being kicked out of the family home as a result and losing custody of her son - and getting a good kick in the gut from Lindsay Denton. In comparison, not as brutal to almost getting a finger amputated and being chucked down some stairs along with numerous failed relationships. As I mentioned before, Steve and Ted have been accused of being bent - got to be Kate's turn now right? Definitely a bookies favourite of being 'H' (Come on folks, we know H isn't a person anymore.) or being the fourth person. I'm sure anyone who follows my blog can see who my favourite is and how I'll be very devastated if she turns out to be corrupt. But I'm feeling quite sure that she'll finally be the other side of the table officially (being questioned in series 1 and 3 doesn't count in my books as she was undercover). We've already had a teaser of herself and Joanne being surrounded by armed police - and Steve and Ted (Is this the first time Steve's seen her in a while? I'm leaning towards this being the case), looking terrified and having a gun on her - so yes - we do already know there will be Kate drama at this point. Line of Duty is always full of surprises. A big twist has been teased in episode 4 - will Kate be involved? I reckon it's likely. We've seen a police car appear to fly off road into water - and I'm pretty sure Kate will be in that car! Out of the trio - we definitely know the least about Kate. All we really know is that she trained at Ryton, is married with a son and not much else. She explained to Ryan her parents split when she was young and was out of the house a lot cos of this, not caring what she got up to. Eagle eyed fans would also know her full name is Katherine Laura and her maiden name was Donnelly (Series 2 whilst Denton was looking at her file). It would be interesting to learn more about her background as we really don't know much! At the end of series 5 we see her arrive home late to an empty house - her husband and son having gone to the pictures as planned - I do think they were certainly alluding to the next series (With Steve also but I'll get to that) - we'll see more of her personal side. You know I wouldn't be surprised if she was separated again.

And because we know so little, has she been dodgy from the off and we haven't known? Someone shared a really interesting theory on the basis of what she shared with Ryan, (featured on the shrine of duty podcast) that in her teens, someone may have attempted to recruit her just like Dot was but she saw through it, knowing it would lead to something that it would be best to stay clear of. Was she a troublemaker in her teens? Up to all sorts of anti-social behaviour? I love this idea and can totally see it! We know Steve's story of ending up in AC12 and we know Ted's background in the Royal Ulster Constabulary. But we don't know much about Kate's circumstances of joining the force or even AC12 - I would love to find out more about that!

Could her husband be dodgy? We don't know much about him at all. That would be an interesting twist. There's definitely still hostility there and I was surprised they got back together.

Especially from series 5, a lot more people have leant towards Kate being bent, being the fourth dot, etc. I've already said I can't see her being bent, or not in the same terms as Dot for example. Some people believe Dot took the bullet because she was in on stuff, but pulling the caddy investigation in on Dot wouldn't make much sense then. That all seemed to me she was doing the right thing and wanting the appropriate persons brought to justice. However a lot of her decisions in series 5 have come under fire from fans. For example not taking a declaration from Hargreaves, not addressing Ted's unlawful Fahreinheit order until after the events played out to name a couple. Even still, all her decisions to me seemed to warrant doing good and going after whoever it was being bent. I mean she had been happy to go after both Steve and Ted but I always saw that because she wanted the bent coppers getting their comeuppance - and in both instances, instead discovered other people were in fact the culprits and did what she could to put the investigations in the right direction. I mean yes she's happy to pin stuff on anyone but herself but that doesn't mean she's dodgy, just that she wants to get the job done - I don't think anyone would lead an investigation straight for themselves, that's just silly!

Has she edited Dot's declaration? I think the only two logical people are either Kate herself or Hilton as I've previously discussed. We'll see her come under fire for some things for sure and that would be one of them!

I've never been a huge fan of any of the main three being corrupt - I think any copper can do things that could be seen as bent, but that's what happens when you have the power of the law. All three have made questionable decisions. I don't think it's possible to be squeaky clean as anyone can make decisions that lead to consequences.

To summarise, I think Kate will be accused of being bent, I think she's going to have a lot of drama coming her way. I think she's going to get in a lot of bother. But I don't think she's going to be what we'd call bent. I think we'll learn things we won't expect about her, especially regarding her personal life. What I know for sure it's going to be exciting, thrilling, action-packed - and I cannot wait to see Kate's prime time to shine.

Steve and a painkiller addiction?

In the series 5 'wrap-up' - we see Steve alone in his flat taking medication - clearly for his back. Some fans looked into that sequence as foreshadowing to a possible pain-killer addiction? It would be an interesting turn for his character. There was a point where he wasn't sure if he was going to walk again and has clearly been dosed up on painkillers since the incident. One of the easter eggs that's been shared is of his prescription - and I'm certain he's still on the medication when we resume - one of the medications he's taking has a warning of causing addiction. Addiction in drama is usually focused on illegal drugs - but not often with prescribed medications. I don't think Jed would have had a sequence focused on Steve's medication if it weren't to be significant. He's clearly still coming to terms with his injury and its affected him in the bedroom too - I won't be surprised if poor Steve is still having issues - maybe that's why he turned down a drink with Nicola and not because he was trying to be professional. Maybe it's why he's leaving AC12. He came back to work on his own decision, I don't think a professional would have advised his return to work so early and now that's catching up to him. We've seen a lot of physical stunts upcoming, and Steve on the front-line with a firearm. I won't be surprised if his medication causes issues or he actually ends up causing more damage to his back, especially because he appears to be in a white van and we know there is a stunt involving a white van! I think his injuries will seriously catch up to him!

Returning characters?

We've had the surprise of Nicola Rogerson reappearing for the first time since series 2 (mentioned in series 3). Most of the time surprise returns are kept under wraps until transmission. Lindsay Denton's return in series 3 probably being one of the biggest and most notable cases. The trailer also revealed PC Farida Jatri will be appearing in series 6, first appearing as an officer on Roz Huntley's team at Polk Avenue. I think we all like to check IMDb to see if anything has been spilled, Steph Corbett has appeared on the list and whilst that's actually plausible seeing Ted looked as if he were giving her the missing 50k, IMDb has often had incorrect cast listings on purpose. I'm pretty confident Philip Osborne will be returning. I imagine we will see Sam Railston again too. I would love Nigel Morton and his cane to return, he's got off lightly to say the least, and he definitely knows what to and not to get involved in. And with a video from Martin's instagram, we've seen both Anna Maxwell Martin and Gregory Piper lurking so I'm happy to assume DCS Carmichael and Ryan Pilkington will be back for sure. I believe the two shady prison officers who made Lindsay Denton a cup of tea look likely to reappear, that will be interesting! With Jed, anyone who isn't dead could return... Then again remember when he posted that picture of Stephen and Craig and people went nuts thinking Dot was really alive? And, there's been a lot of teasing as to who could crop up. Lindsay Denton's name has been floating around the past couple of days thanks to Jed, she's quite frankly dead but will we get a flashback or some new footage? I think we will all go nuts if Keeley Hawes had sneakily returned to film new stuff, especially with her very hectic schedule, that woman hasn't stopped. Anything's possible at this point. We can't always trust everything but that's part of the fun of it!

A new character we haven't seen but has been mentioned!

I'll briefly touch on this. It has been alluded a character will pop up that has been mentioned in passing but never been seen before. Popular theories include somebody off Danny Waldron's list (Plausible after Fairbank was see in the trailer again) or one of the officers off the H board. I am personally leaning towards Dot Cottan's ex missus turning up. She was mentioned to Kate by Dot, and we know she works in forensics, a very convenient place to work if things need tampering with. I just think she'd be the most interesting person to turn up after all this time, mentioned once and never again - it's surprising seeing Dot turned out to be bent and she was working in the force too...

What next with Ted?

Ted did go through a lot at the end of series 5. Being accused of being H, murdering John Corbett, Anne-Marie McGillis and being bribed with 50k (Sorry 100k but shh they don't need to know that). Ted was cleared on all charges but has been given a final written warning. AC12 is definitely going to be under the watchful eye of the higher ups as alluded too in easter eggs. We've seen Ted very distressed in a lift and him getting awfully flustered at the Police Headquarters. I don't think his troubles are going to be over any time soon. The case of the other 50k could possibly come up again, seeing Mark Moffatt was sure to stress it was 100k. We don't know what happened between him and Steph, and with her supposedly reappearing - it's likely it'll be revisited. Will his money troubles be any better? Is he finally going to be out of the Edge Park Hotel with the dodgy toilet? Has he finally moved on from Roisin? I saw a suggestion from someone somewhere (can't remember who or where) that Roisin was now involved with someone who may be the corrupt officer, god could you imagine if her new fella turned out to be Osborne? What a way to really kick Ted whilst he's already down. There were also a couple of other things too that were left unanswered. Why did Ted REALLY dispose of his laptop (come on Ted, no one disposes their laptop for watching naughty things)? What did Ted say to Lee Banks? I don't think we'll ever learn the latter and that'll be down to audience interpretation but the laptop definitely needs to be addressed again. Is Ted actually dodgy? He ain't H put it that way but he's made some questionable decisions. Right now I want to know what's got him upset in the lift! And will Ted reach the end of his journey at AC12?! I really hope not but he's skating on thin ice being on a final warning, and the higher ups don't have a lot of trust to say the least.

Ryan in the police force.

At the end of series 5, Ryan has begun his police training. We've been told roughly 18 months have passed between the two series so I reckon if all's gone well (It has, of course it has) - he'll be a police officer somewhere within central police, being naughty. As already mentioned, we have seen Gregory Piper behind the scenes - so we'll be seeing Ryan again, which was inevitable really. It's hard to guess where he'll turn up but more than likely away from the trio. However I'm looking forward to Steve coming face to face with him again. He's managed to lie-low and not be detected by the team - as far as they're aware, most if not all of the OCG has been neutralised. He did a pretty good job staying out of the way with all the drama that happened. In the trailer, I did notice Ryan's picture on the infamous board - so he's definitely going to be detected - but how, by who and when? I'm looking forward to seeing how it all unravels but I'm sure it's going to be explosive.

Is Dot Cottan alive in witness protection?

Did he really die? Well... Nahhh you thought I was really going to talk about this? I love Dot, he's one of my favourite characters and I do deep down think it would be awesome for him to be alive somewhere. But realistically I do think it would be a big 'cop out'. He's Dot Cottan, not Dirty Den... Yeah yeah we never saw a mention of a funeral and the camera panned out before he officially died but yeah I think he looked pretty screwed, don't you? I will admit that I was low-key hoping that picture of the geezer leaving those flats was Dot... I do miss all the series 5 speculation. But yeah, Dot Cottan is definitely dead.

My overall hopes for Series 6.

I'm definitely not the only one who's hoping six won't be the last series. It has now been revealed that Jed 'doesn't know' and suggesting that everything that needs answering will be this series. Just like in series 3. Series 3 was the best series so far and I'm hoping series 6 will live up to that, and the cast have certainly teased that it will. It feels weird knowing so much could be wrapped up in seven weeks. I'm going to make the most of this series seeing a seventh might not be on the cards. I trust Jed and if the show comes to a natural conclusion after this then needs must. I think we'll have a better understanding if the show could go on once we have seen all of series 6! I really hope Steve finally gets his promotion and things will start to look up for him. Ted as well, he's had nothing but crap shovelled into his bubble recently. I also hope we get plenty of explosive Kate scenes which I think we definitely will. Having only seen a little of Kelly MacDonald in action so far I can't create any hopes without seeing more. Maybe she'll be the first lead guest star to survive and with all limbs in tact. As one of Scotland's finest actresses - I know that we'll be in for a real treat! I'm hoping for DCS Carmichael to have lots of scenes - I actually really love her character and hope to find out more about her. Seeing Anna sneaking in the background of one of Martin's instagram stories, no doubt she's reappearing as I mentioned before. I'm hoping for an explosive reunion with Ryan and Steve. I'm excited for all the Tedisms. I'm looking forward to bad-ass queen Kate. Oh and I can't wait to hear our favourite beeeeeeeeepppppp - interrogation scenes are really the best. I'm feeling like this will be the greatest and most explosive series yet.

Oh boy, this has taken up a lot of my time and I'm glad I didn't finish until some more information had come to light. I want to thank anyone who read all of this long ass post. I want to thank a couple of my absolute favourite blogs for giving me a push to finish and share this. I know I've probably missed some stuff but what was going to be quick thing turned into hours. These theories could be correct, could be completely wrong! But I'm looking forward to re-reading this after everything's happened. I'm not sure whether I'll share thoughts after every episode yet but if my mind is whirring enough I'm sure I'll conjure up something! It's almost 4am and I'm glad to be done with this! I'll be curious to know what you think! I apologise if I have made any mistakes in this but I've gone through and think all information is correct, if not, Ted will be issuing me with a Reg 15 quicker than you can say houl yer whisht!

Much love and gearing up for Sunday!

[batclaws]

//:CANONS — File: gender

Originally, no one even knew. Detectives, yes, masters at the craft, but it wasn’t particularly obvious. The boy was so small, ten-year-old skeletal frame wrapped in oddly developed muscle and tendon, the body of a warrior transposed on the image of a child. There were no signs at first glance, and his behavior... it was sufficiently distracting. Aggressive, stubborn, paranoid. Lethal. In his loud vocality, in his militant refusal to cooperate, in his difficulty, Damian was... impossible to deal with easily. He was, simply put, a terror. A problem. A pain in the ass.

It was far too easy for things like monthly physicals to fall through the cracks, in favor of rehashing the argument about sword wounds in the field. In hindsight, of course, it’d be suspicious. How each time a medical examination was looming, Damian broke the rules. As if he knew what he was doing. But at the time, the methods worked, and the truth slipped by, undiscovered. Until a particular fight with Penguin broke out.

It was ugly. It was in the middle of the street during a yearly parade. Full scale Bat mobilization, civilian injuries, GCPD scrambling to put up road closures in time and redirect the throngs of screaming pedestrians. There were bombs, and there were casualties. A term in Arkham would be pitifully cold comfort after the tragedy, one that took over 14 hours to completely get under control.

In comparison, the reveal seemed almost... anticlimactic. Hour 11, another juiced up goon, another bomb to diffuse. A choice between getting the victims clear and getting yourself; maybe he’d learned Bruce’s lessons a little too well. They pulled Robin unconscious from a heap of rubble in a panic of comm chatter and pulse-checking, and Nightwing carried him back to the cave, and Alfred, leaving the others to finish the clean up.

The good news: for once, his heavily augmented designer baby origins served him well, resistant to the damage of a bomb’s shockwave. Despite hitting the brick walls spine-first before going through them, the worst injuries suffered were internal bruising, minor organ damage, and a concussion.

The... stranger news: an odd note in Alfred’s voice as he called Bruce back to the cave, when the crisis was over.

There was a ‘girl’ on the medbay cot. Body still too young to be developed, frame disarmingly small when held still and unconscious. The blood tests and organ scans said it simply and effectively; this child was born ‘female’.

It kicked off startled, confused mutterings between the various bats scattered in the cave, speculation, questions, hazarded guesses — the full half day of a war zone and the exhaustion that came from it made lips far looser and discretion far shakier than it should have been.

I guess Talia must’ve hid it? Ra’s wouldn’t let her be the heir, so her daughter’d be no better off—

But he’s - er, she’s always been so awful to Steph—

Overcompensating maybe?

[Muffled laughter.]

Through it all, Bruce didn’t comment. Stayed by the medical bed, watching over his youngest, his smallest child, until Damian woke up. Spoke to him with the soft voice they all knew as from their worst injuries; the dad voice. It was quiet. The worst of the day was over.

All the more startling, when a dismayed shriek started up from their direction.

“No!! That’s not -- I’m not a girl!! I’m not!!”

“Damian, it’s alright, we won’t treat you any differently--”

“I’m not a girl!! I’m a boy!!” Something close to despair, wide-eyed and shaken, genuine on the small face, eyes wide and slit-pupiled with panic. “I’m a boy.”

A pause, heavy, worried. That voice again, even softer somehow, even quieter in comparison to the panic. “Alright, Damian. You’re a boy. It’s okay.”

Only then did their smallest Robin stop moving, heedless of his injuries, to slump over in bed. Knees pulling up, arms wrapped around them, hiding the fear on his face. They knew. They knew. He was -- it didn’t matter, he wasn’t. He was a boy.

The following days were awkward, tense like a held breath let out too slowly. There was more clean-up and more work to do, following the tragedy from Penguin. There were injuries to treat, many worse than the baby bat’s. And there was the confused pall over the house, as everyone waited to find out what exactly was going on. Alfred and Bruce, for a while, the only visitors allowed in Damian’s room, until the day Stephanie marched up the stairs, swung the door wide, and said “Budge over” to the tiny figure on the bed before defiantly shutting and locking the door. Suspiciously quiet, after, no screaming, no thumping. There was a tired smile on her face, when she emerged some hours later; Damian came to breakfast for the first time, the following morning, and that tension breathed out of the house a little easier.

In the end, no one knew exactly what had happened, but Alfred was the one to put his foot down:

The young master considers himself a boy, so that is what he is.

And no one disagreed with Alfred.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3

Chapter 49: Martin Prime

Martin woke up and instantly knew he was alone. It wasn’t just that the space next to him was empty and cold, or the absence of the comforting weight against his side. Jon was a restless sleeper at the best of times, and it had only been getting worse lately; he often woke in the middle of the night (well, day) and slipped out of their bed, so Martin was sort of accustomed to the idea of waking up without Jon in his arms. But he couldn’t even sense Jon lingering nearby, maybe reading a book or putting together something to eat.

“Jon?” he called, despite knowing it was futile, even as he shoved off the blankets and sat up. God, it was cold. Like the temperature had dropped way below what was normal for this time of year. It was spring—he thought—he was pretty sure they’d said yesterday was the first day of spring—but the room felt less like spring in London and more like autumn in Scotland. Cold, clammy, and so very empty.

Martin got to his feet, made his way carefully over to the door, and opened it. It was even colder in the tunnel proper, and he was half-inclined to go back into the room, burrow under the blankets, and wait for Jon to come back. Surely he would be back soon. He couldn’t have gone far, after all. Probably he was just recording a statement. As much as he hated being interrupted, surely he wouldn’t mind Martin slipping in as long as he did it quietly.

They were better about the separation anxiety than they’d been when they first came back to the past, but Martin still didn’t like it. It was worse with Past Jon being away on his ultimately pointless road trip. It was too much of a reminder of what had happened to them, what could still happen. Too many close calls. At least Past Martin had his Tim to lean on. Martin had had to deal with it on his own.

He did turn back into the room, but only to find his cane. He hadn’t bothered with it much lately, since he was more or less constantly with Jon, and he knew the tunnels well enough by now that he could simply count his steps and find his way, at least around the upper levels, at least as far as he needed to go. Up in the Archives, it was more difficult, but with Jon or one of the Archives crew to guide him, he was fine.

But Jon wasn’t there—he was going to find Jon—and it felt…late wasn’t the word. Martin’s sense of time was all wonky from living underground, but it didn’t feel as though it was late in the evening necessarily. It had to be, though, because it felt…empty. Like everyone might have gone home.

Maybe they’d left early because the climate control system was broken. That would certainly explain why it was so cold.

Martin made his way up the stairs slowly, carefully, step by step. It got colder and colder the further up he went, which was weird. Heat rose, so logically it should be warmer above ground than below. There was probably some sort of reasonable explanation. He knew there was a gas line under the tunnels somewhere. Maybe that was it.

He didn’t need his cane to go up the steps; it was more a hindrance than a help at that point. He knew the rise of the steps well enough that he got up without any difficulty. There were fourteen steps from the tunnels to the Archives, because of course there were, and Martin knew that when he hit the tenth step, he needed to start pushing the trapdoor up or he was going to have issues. When he reached up, though, he felt no resistance. For some reason, the door was open already.

That probably wasn’t a bad thing, he told himself. It meant Jon was already out in the Archives. He probably hadn’t wanted to disturb Martin and had just slipped up to start recording. It was fine.

Martin would have to find him quickly, though. It was even colder than before, a cold Martin could feel in his bones. Jon was too thin and felt the cold easily, but if he was absorbed in a recording he wouldn’t think about it. He could get sick, and that was the last thing Martin wanted. He’d never liked listening to Jon do his recordings, and Jon had always preferred doing them on his own, but they could both deal with it if it meant keeping him warm.

Four more steps, and he was on level ground. He swept his cane around to find the door, but encountered nothing. He must have come out and stepped on it. No matter. It could stay open. He wouldn’t fall as long as he kept using the cane.

He stood still for a moment and held his breath, listening. Surely he would be able to hear movement, or the rustle of papers, or the quiet rise and fall of Jon’s voice as he read a statement. He’d worked very hard to get his hearing trained to pick out even the smallest of sounds.

But there was nothing.

“Jon?” he called. His voice seemed smaller than usual, quieter. He didn’t think it was on purpose, but it was an awful lot like the way he’d once sounded when he called for his mother after coming home from work—maybe loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough that he wouldn’t disturb her if she was still sleeping. It was the voice of someone who both did and didn’t want to be noticed. Small wonder there was no answer.

Nothing else for it. Martin picked a direction that seemed likely and began walking forward carefully, sweeping the cane along ahead of himself. The tap of its tip hitting the floor seemed oddly muted, like they’d laid down rugs for some reason, but when he dragged a foot experimentally, he didn’t get the rasp or catch of trainer on pile.

His cane encountered nothing. At first that was comforting, but it quickly became disconcerting. The Archives were crowded—not cluttered, exactly, but full. He should have encountered something by now. A shelf, a desk, a filing cabinet. Something. Either they’d cleared a huge space in the middle of the Archives for something, or he’d come up in the wrong place, or…something was wrong.

“Jon,” he called, but less certainly this time. Was Jon even there? He hadn’t heard him yet. Surely Jon would have responded to Martin calling him if he was there. He’d promised, after all, promised he would stay close, that he would always…they’d both promised. After, after, after that one stop on their journey from Scotland to London, the one where he’d—no, if he was there, he would have answered.

Jon probably couldn’t hear him, he thought, tightening his grip on his cane. If he was absorbed in a statement…how many times had Martin had to slap him or shout at him to break his concentration when one went on too long, or things got too dangerous? He was probably in the office, probably with the door shut. Martin would just…keep walking forward and eventually bump into a wall and then follow it around until he found a door and got inside. Easy.

Christ, it was cold. Martin took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled the chill, slightly damp air into his lungs. Damp? That wasn’t good, he thought vaguely, moisture was bad for documents. And there were a lot of documents here in—here in—

He shook his head slightly to clear it. Was he starting to get sick? He didn’t feel like he had a headache, but he definitely felt…fuzzy. Like it was hard to think. And everything still seemed muffled, somehow. Far away. Distant. Maybe he should sit down, or lie down. Maybe he should go back…down…go curl up under a blanket and wait for this to pass. Surely it would pass. Surely it couldn’t last forever.

There was a faint smell in the air, one that seemed momentarily out of place. So faint he almost couldn’t quite detect it. It was almost a nothing sort of smell, the smell of coldness and emptiness and absence. It didn’t belong in—belong—it didn’t belong there, did it? He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring to catch the scent, and the cold sank deep into his bones. For just a moment, he ached at the deepest core of his being—his hands, his knees, his chest. Everything hurt, and he would have given anything for it to stop.

Salt. His brain finally picked up on the smell. It was the smell of salt mixed with cold, and damn anyone who said cold didn’t have a smell. He remembered having an argument about it once, a discussion with a lot of hand-waving and raised voices, but—how had it ended?

He couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember?

Probably he’d lost. No reason to assume otherwise, really. He was usually wrong, even on the rare occasions when he was sure he was right. It was so easy for him to latch onto the wrong data, get his facts mixed up. He forgot things so easily, too; even if he thought he remembered something, odds were good he was remembering it wrong. Like the argument about cold having a smell. Why had he even brought it up? Why had he let himself be drawn into it when he knew he was wrong? Why would he have continued it? He knew better, knew not to try and air his opinions. He was so easily outclassed, and so obviously wrong, so there was no point in trying.

It was so cold, cold and clammy and faintly smelling of salt. He was lightheaded—no, it wasn’t just his head. All of him felt light…no, not light. Insubstantial. Like he was barely even there. As it should be, really. He wasn’t needed. Didn’t really belong. Not here. Not anymore. Not anywhere, really.

Where even was he?

Who even was he?

No, no, that wasn’t right, that wasn’t—he was someone, he knew he was someone. Maybe he wasn’t anyone important, maybe in the grand cosmic scheme of things he wasn’t worth much, but he was still a person. He still existed, he still had a name, he still—he still meant something to someone.

Right?

The cane in his hand wasn’t solid enough to ground him. He could still feel it in his hand, but it felt as light and—and unreal as the rest of him. No, that wasn’t right either. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel real. He just didn’t feel…present.

There was…someone. There should have been someone. He was looking for someone, wasn’t he? Hadn’t he come up here calling for someone? His lips formed a word, but he didn’t hear it, and anyway, there wouldn’t be anyone to answer. He was deluding himself, just like always. He could call all he wanted. Call, shout, scream until his throat was raw and bloody. It didn’t matter. Nobody would answer him. Even if there was someone there, they wouldn’t want to answer him, but that didn’t matter either. There was no one there.

He was all alone.

He didn’t feel the cold anymore. Or, well, he did, but it was so ever-present, so deeply permeated into his marrow, that he was beyond feeling it. He was aware of it, but in a distant way. Cold, pain, loss, anguish, all of that was far away. All the bad things were there, and he was somewhere else, and it wasn’t that they couldn’t touch him so much as it was that they just didn’t really affect him one way or another.

Martin. The name floated into his mind, more thought than sound, not quite as though someone was speaking it aloud, but rather like someone was thinking it so strongly that it was given form in the universe. But the cadence, the gentle caress of the syllables, was so familiar, so right, that it gave him a moment’s pause. Martin. Just that word…just that name. His name.

Martin blinked. Some of the lightheadedness faded, and he tried to gather his shaky wits. Right. Start small. Martin. He was Martin Blackwood. He was real, he was present, he was a person. He was an Archival assistant at—no, he didn’t do that anymore, he’d taken a promotion or a transfer, whatever you wanted to call it, to work for—but he didn’t do that anymore, either. He’d quit, hadn’t he? God, it was was so hard to think. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear away the fog.

Fog. Oh, God, that was it—that was what he was feeling. The cold, salt-kissed dampness of the air—that was a fog, a proper pea-souper of a sea mist. He was meant to be in the Archives…either he’d come out in the wrong place, or something was very wrong.

He had a sudden memory from when he was little—four, maybe? They’d gone to Bournemouth on holiday; his father had wanted Martin to see where he’d grown up. They’d been down at the shore and Martin had been collecting interesting stones in hopes of making his mother smile when a heavy fog had rolled in. He hadn’t been able to see more than a few inches in front of him, and it was so thick it had muffled even the crash and roll of the waves. He’d been scared and crying, stumbling around lost and calling for his parents, when he’d heard his father singing in his deep, resonant bass.

Martin closed his eyes, even though he didn’t need to, and listened. He swore he could almost hear the singing through the fog, not just his father’s voice but his own. They’d done a medley of sorts at the last concert he’d been in, a cross of the shanty his father had sung to lead him out of the fog and the hymn he’d sung him to comfort him once he’d run sobbing into his father’s arms, and Martin had somehow managed to score the solo. It was a song where not only the words but the memories were comforting. Softly, he began singing along to the half-heard, half-remembered words. Let your lower lights be burning…

He felt something suddenly bump against his arm—a rope, like a tow rope. Hastily, he reached out to grab it. It wasn’t slack; there was tension to it, like it was tied to something at the other end. A guideline. A lifeline.

Throw out the lifeline, throw out the lifeline…someone is drifting away…

Martin tightened his grip on the cane with one hand. With the other, he twisted, looping the rope around his wrist, then clasped the remainder tightly. This would at least get him somewhere. He swept ahead with the cane and pulled himself forward with the rope.

Clang!

“Jesus Christ!”

Martin’s eyes snapped open, producing absolutely no difference in his vision. The cold was gone. So was the clamminess. So, he noted, was the rope. His right hand clutched uselessly at nothing, but at least the cane was secure in his other hand. He’d obviously hit an obstacle—probably a filing cabinet or the leg of a desk—and from the shout, he’d probably almost stepped on Melanie.

“Sorry, sorry!” he said quickly, taking a step back. Hopefully there was nothing behind him.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Melanie demanded. She sounded more bewildered than angry, but there was still plenty of both. “You just—appeared!”

“Oh.” Martin’s knees buckled. “Damn it.”

He’d thought he was free. He’d thought he’d finally shaken the last of it. But if he’d backslid, if he’d given in…

“Whoa, whoa, hold up.” Melanie was suddenly there, grabbing his arm and trying to take his weight. “Here, have a seat…there’s a chair here.”

“I’m fine,” Martin said, but he didn’t sound very convincing to himself. That was confirmed by Melanie’s snort. He felt around for the chair with his free hand and managed to locate it, then slowly sat down. “Give me a sec and I’ll head back downstairs. Wouldn’t want You-Know-Who to notice me.”

“If he’s watching anyone right now, it’s not me. I’m still not interesting enough,” Melanie muttered, but she touched his shoulder. “Do you need help? Where’s your fiancé?”

“I don’t know. I thought he was up here.” Martin took a deep, steadying breath, well aware that his hands were still faintly trembling.

“Why would he be up here? It’s the middle of the bloody afternoon. Thought you two didn’t come up during working hours.”

Martin swallowed hard. If it was that early…“I thought—I assumed it was later than that. It just felt like…like the place was abandoned.”

“Nope. Sasha left early, but the rest of us are still here. I think Martin was taking a statement from someone.” A chair creaked; Martin guessed Melanie was taking her own seat. “Kinda surprised you couldn’t hear us. Tim and I were trying to see who could come up with the most atrocious pun. I was winning, up until—”

“Hey, Melanie, did you—whoa, what are you doing up here?” Tim’s voice was already concerned, but it sharpened into something that was almost fear at the end. “If we’re being watched—”

“We’re not. Elias has a meeting.” Past Martin sounded somewhat shaky. “Unless I did just hallucinate that whole thing.”

“Wh—oh. Shit.” Martin rubbed a hand over his face as a curious mix of fear, regret, and relief flooded his body. At least it hadn’t been his fault. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“Okay,” Tim said, in a brusque and slightly bossy tone of voice, but there was a gentleness to it that told Martin he was probably looking at Past Martin as he spoke. “Okay, hold on. Why don’t we…why don’t we all go downstairs and talk about this? I don’t know how long this…meeting is going to last and I think we’re due a break. Mel, you wanna go down with these guys and I’ll be down in a minute with tea?”

“Sure. Martin, wanna give yourself a hand?”

“Yeah, okay,” Past Martin said. As Martin got to his feet, he felt an arm slip through his and Past Martin murmured in his ear, “Do I need to prepare for this?”

“Not if we can help it,” Martin said fervently.

The creak of the trapdoor opening would have surprised him if he hadn’t already figured out what had happened. Once they were in the stairwell proper, he let go of Past Martin’s arm and led the other two downstairs. They didn’t say anything until they made it into the little room Jon and Martin had made their own. Martin leaned the cane in a corner and sat down on the floor with his back against the wall. It was solid and cool to the touch, but not as bitter cold as it had been before. The air smelled dry and earthy and slightly stale, without a hint of salt, but his face felt stiff and sticky. He touched his cheek and felt the drying traces of tears there.

He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

There were rustling noises and a faint click, and then Melanie spoke. “I’ll be right back. Just gonna go pop down the hall here and see if I can find where Jon Prime is holing himself up. He needs to be here.”

“What makes you think he’s down here somewhere?” Martin asked.

After a brief pause, Past Martin said, “She’s, um, she’s gone now, but—probably because she brought a statement down for him earlier. M-maybe he was asleep when she came down the first time and she figures he found it and went off to record it.”

Martin’s mind helpfully supplied him with a vague memory of Jon telling him it was okay. “I think he was awake. But…yeah, that’s probably it.”

They lapsed into silence again. After a moment, Martin heard more rustling, and then he felt a weight against his side and an arm draped over his shoulder. Martin closed his eyes and leaned into his counterpart’s warmth.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “It’s—it was so cold.”

“Tim will be along with the tea soon.” Past Martin’s voice was low and soothing. “And I’m sure Melanie will be able to find Jon Prime.”

Martin had no way of telling how much longer they sat there, but he straightened up a little when he heard footsteps, and then Tim’s voice floated in. “Hey. Where’s Mel?”

“She hates being called that, you know,” Martin murmured. He reached out automatically and was relieved when something heavy and warm was placed into his hands. “Uh, she went to see if she could find Jon. My Jon, I mean. She thinks he might be recording a statement.”

“He’s not now, but he was,” Melanie said. She sounded annoyed. “Found these in a room down the tunnels a bit, right near one of the other entrances. I poked my head out, but I didn’t see him. He probably did something colossally stupid like go to investigate something in the statement.” There were more rustles of fabric. “Anyway, I left him a note telling him to get his ass back here pronto. Maybe he’ll be back before we’re done talking.”

“Maybe.” Martin brought the mug to his lips, but he didn’t drink it, just inhaled the steam. After several long moments, he said, “Thank you. For coming down here with me. I—it’s not a good idea for me to be alone after that.”

“What happened?” Melanie demanded. “One minute I was by myself at my desk because Tim went to see what Martin was up to, and then suddenly, whoosh! You were right in front of me. Can you, what, become invisible or something?”

“Not…on purpose. Not anymore. I haven’t—done that in a while.” Martin took a deep breath. “It’s the Lonely. It’s—it’s like what the Eye did to the three of you. It took traits I already had and just…enhanced them. I was used to being ignored, to not being noticed, to feeling like nobody was listening to me or would care if I had anything to say. Like I wasn’t—”

“Like you weren’t present,” Past Martin supplied softly.

“Yeah.” Martin rubbed one hand over his face. “But that hasn’t happened since…Scotland. Since Jon got me out of the Lonely. I had some bad nights at first, but it was easier to shake with him there. And…there were a couple hairy moments on our way to London—you know, after. We had to—to get from the safehouse to the Institute, to what was the Institute anyway, we had to walk through a bunch of domains of the different fears. We were in one, it was this—this house, all these people wandering around lost, looking for—for people they loved, that they couldn’t find. We got separated, and the fog—it got in. Took me forever to shake it enough that Jon could find me. The other time was, well, it was my domain, I guess.”

“Your domain?” Melanie and Tim said in unison.

“We told you. After the Apocalypse, pretty much everyone was either Watcher or Watched. And everyone who was a Watcher, well, had something to watch.” Martin swallowed back the memory. “Mine wasn’t very big, just a few people, but—that’s enough. A mix of the Lonely and the Eye. Full of people whose biggest fear was of, of disappearing with nobody to remember them.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Past Martin said, his voice absolutely flat.

“That won’t happen,” Tim said fiercely. This was punctuated with the most aggressive rustle of fabric Martin had ever heard. “Even if you did—even if anything happened, you’d never be forgotten. Ever.”

Past Martin didn’t answer, but Martin could imagine what was probably going on. He gripped the mug tightly. It was slowly cooling—or was that his imagination? The sudden pang of loneliness that hit him, the ache of longing for Jon to be there and hold him the way Tim was undoubtedly holding Past Martin, was so intense as to be nearly painful. He could feel the chill creeping in again and tried his hardest not to panic. It’s okay, it’s okay, Jon’s out there somewhere, he’s coming—

“—tin? Martin!”

Martin gasped. The mug slipped from his suddenly numb fingers and shattered on the floor, but he didn’t care. “Jon!”

Almost before he’d finished the word, Jon was there, familiar and warm and solid, kneeling on Martin’s lap, his hands bracketing Martin’s face. “Martin, oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I-I was coming back, I swear I wasn’t leaving for good, you know I would never—a-are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Martin wrapped his arms around Jon and pulled him close. Jon’s heart was pounding furiously, and he could feel his own pulse fluttering. “I-it was just—I don’t know, I wasn’t—I woke up and I was alone. It wasn’t so bad at first, I was—I was looking for you, and then I went upstairs and…God, I must’ve walked right into it and it just—” He took a deep, shuddering breath and said softly, “I guess I didn’t think about the fact that just because my connection to the Eye was broken didn’t mean my connection to the Lonely was.”

“I should have thought about that, too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love.” Jon’s forehead came to rest against Martin’s.

“No reason why you should have. It hasn’t come up before.”

Someone cleared their throat. Martin guessed it was Tim from the fact that he spoke next. “What do you mean, ‘you walked right into it’? Was it just, like, lurking in the Archives? Will it come back?”

“Maybe. It didn’t just appear,” Martin added hastily. “But—you said something about Elias having an appointment?”

“What?” Jon sounded confused.

“Yeah,” Past Martin said. “Or at least that’s what the man who—I’d just finished taking a woman’s statement, she was just leaving, and—some man just, just turned up in the office and started talking to me. Asking me what kind of a boss Elias was, if there was anything I thought he could do differently? It was really weird. I tried to ask Tim, but he said there hadn’t been anyone in but that woman with the Desolation statement. I swear he was there, though.”

“He was,” Martin said. “Not surprised nobody else saw him, though. Hardly anyone but me ever saw him in our time, either. If it’s who I’m thinking of. Inch or two shorter than you, steel-grey hair, blue peacoat and a pilot’s cap?”

Jon stiffened in Martin’s arms. “Oh, no.”

“That’s him. Who was he?”

“That,” Jon said grimly, “was Peter Lukas.”

“Which is why I got caught in the Lonely,” Martin added. “He’s—it’s his domain, the whole family is bound up in it and he’s sort of high up in it. It trails after him. And me having been so tightly wound up in it for so long…even if I didn’t fully go over to it, there’s enough of it in me that I guess walking into it unprepared almost got me. Especially since I was already alone when I woke up.”

“I thought he was supposed to stay away from you,” Tim said. He sounded annoyed—no, more than that, he sounded properly angry. “Wasn’t that what the deal was? Your dad tends the Light and the Lukases leave you alone?”

There was a short pause, and then Past Martin said slowly, “Yes. Yes, that was the deal, wasn’t it?”

Martin could hear the smile in his counterpart’s voice and knew what it meant. “Unfortunately, the Institute is a blind spot of sorts. Those pictures he talked about, they don’t show when you’re in here. He’s got no idea you’ve met Peter Lukas.”

“No, but the tape was still running, which means I have it on the record,” Past Martin replied. “And I’ve heard the story, so I know the deal. I can reach out to him. In theory.”

It wouldn’t be that easy, Martin knew. The Light was specifically designed to be hard to find, and none of them were lonely enough to draw the old oak doors anymore. But he wasn’t going to kill the hope and optimism Past Martin had, and besides, if anyone could find the Keeper, it was probably him. “In theory.”

“Are you going to be okay now?” Melanie asked quietly. “I mean, we should probably get upstairs. If Elias finishes his meeting and, like, takes a look to see how Martin’s holding up…”

“I’m okay. Thank you again. It really helped a lot,” Martin added.

“Hey, what are friends for, right?” There was a lot of shuffling and crunching as the other three got to their feet, and then somebody—probably Melanie—awkwardly patted Martin’s shoulder. “Talk to you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Thank you,” Jon said softly.

Melanie grunted. The door closed with a quiet creak, and Martin could just hear three sets of footsteps moving away. He and Jon were alone again.

After a moment, Jon sort of slid off of Martin’s lap and settled into a more comfortable position against his side. “I am sorry, Martin. I should have been here.”

“It’s not your fault, Jon. It’s—I’m okay.” Martin tucked his chin over Jon’s head.

“It is—”

“Okay, it’s your fault you weren’t here, but it’s not your fault it happened. It might’ve happened even if you were. We don’t know. Maybe not as bad, but you remember those early days in the safe house,” Martin pointed out. “How many times did you have to talk me back to myself? I never slipped so far under that I was literally walking through walls again, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t fall. I’ve been a lot stronger since the Apocalypse. I guess Peter Lukas was just stronger.”

“I know. Still…I should have been here.” Jon sighed heavily. “And I haven’t—I shouldn’t have been doing what I was doing. I—I have a confession to make.”

“You were investigating a statement,” Martin guessed. “Melanie said she’d brought you one earlier. Was it a new one? I-I mean, one we never got to? Or just, like, one we never really followed up on?”

“Technically, neither. It was—you remember that one you found me before the Unknowing, the statement of Anya Villette?”

“Any—oh, no.” Martin stiffened as the memory came back to him. “The house cleaner? The one who didn’t seem to exist and who’d had the contract at Hill Top Road?”

“That’s the one.”

“Jon. Please tell me you didn’t go to Hill Top Road alone.”

“I know! I know I shouldn’t have. I should have at least come back to wake you up. I almost did. I just—I c-couldn’t, Martin. I had that strong feeling I should stay away from it, and—the only other time I ever felt that was when I was trying to listen to Eric Delano’s statement, where he told Gertrude how to quit. It was something the Eye didn’t want me to know, and…I was afraid if I went back for anyone else, I’d lose my nerve. Or let you talk me out of going. And I thought—I didn’t think anyone would be there. I thought I’d have the chance to look around, maybe get some answers without Annabelle Cane warning me off.”

Martin closed his eyes. “What did you find?”

Jon was silent for a moment, then admitted, “I found Annabelle. She said she—or the Web—I’m still not sure which, but she said she wanted to help. With our plan.”

“What exactly did she say?” Martin asked carefully.

Jon heaved another sigh. “She said she didn’t know what the plan was, only the goal, but that I couldn’t hope to succeed without you. Then she said our bond needed to be…stronger, or there was a chance neither of us would survive. She said it would—” He suddenly gave a hoarse sob and clung tightly to Martin. “Martin, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said yes without asking you, I should have waited, but—I was afraid it was a now-or-never thing. That if I didn’t answer right away I’d never have the chance. And I cannot lose you. Not now. I-if it was the only way to—to protect you, I—I took the chance. I let her bind us together.” He drew in a quick breath. “I hope. She didn’t—I don’t think she knew who I was, but i-if she bound me to your past self, or bound our past selves together—”

Martin stilled, thinking over the afternoon. “I think it worked. Jon, I think—how long ago was this?”

“I’m—I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”

Quickly, Martin recounted his experience from the time he’d woken up to the time he’d run into Melanie. Jon’s arms tightened around him as he spoke, which was fine, because his kept tightening around Jon, too. “I was struggling, I’d almost gone completely under, and then I felt you saying my name, o-or thinking it. It was—it’s hard to explain. And then there was this song, this—I did it in a concert, but before that, my dad sang it for me once when I was lost in the fog to let me know where he was and that I was safe, so I was kind of singing that to ground myself, and then I found a lifeline. I—I grabbed and I pulled and then I was solid and in the Archives.” He drew in a breath. “If that was—I think that was you, Jon. You threw me a lifeline. You pulled me out of the fog.” He kissed Jon’s temple lightly. “Again.”

Before he could pull away, Jon captured his lips with his own and kissed him, deeply and intently. The warmth filled him, chasing away the last vestiges of the Lonely. Martin let his eyes drift close again and let himself get lost in the kiss.

“You got yourself out,” Jon whispered when he at last drew back for air. “You’re—y-you’re so much stronger than you know, and I love you so much. I’m glad you’re here, but…I’m sorry I made that decision for you.”

“I forgive you,” Martin assured him. “And I would have done the same. I don’t trust Annabelle—much—but if she can make the difference between you living and dying…well, I’ll take it. I’ll run any risk.” He pressed his forehead to Jon’s. “I love you, too.”

“No more going off alone,” Jon promised. “Not without telling you first.”

“And I promise to tell you if the cold starts setting in, before it gets bad.”

“Deal.” Jon kissed Martin again. “Now then, let me clean up this broken mug and set up the kettle for tea, and we can talk about what this bond is going to mean.”

[namjoontunes]

Lost and Found, Chapter Thirteen

BTS Members x Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff, Minor Angst

Warning: Blood, injury

Word Count: 5.8k

Author’s Notes: I was gonna try to wrap this arc up in this chapter but I really liked the way this one ended, so hopefully after next chapter we’ll be moving on! 

AO3

Previous || Next

Prologue || Most Recent

———————————————————————————

She was surrounded by darkness. Cold, ominous darkness that seemed to press into her with a weight of its own. 

Although she could not see, she knew she was not alone. Without warning, the sounds of snarling wolves began surrounding her on all sides. No matter which way she ran they were always right next to her. She felt sharp teeth dig into her calf and she careened face first into the dirt as one of the wolves violently yanked her leg out from beneath her. As she tried to get back to her feet, the wolves nipping and shoving at her body making it much more difficult, a bright white light appeared about ten feet in front of her. Relief washed over her, and she rushed as fast as she could over to it. As she got closer, she saw that it was a shimmering orb, about one foot in diameter. Eagerly she reached out towards it, watching as it’s bright light began to travel up her arm. She watched it with fascination for a few moments, when suddenly a burning sensation began to grow where the light was touching her. Immediately she pulled back, but it was too late. She was burning now, her face burning, her body burning, inside and out until it felt like the whole world was on fire.

And just like that Y/n was awake, though the burning sensation did not leave her. She felt a presence laying beside her, but her eyes would not allow themselves to open. And so she was forced to remain in the dark, her body still steadily burning. 

At least the wolves were gone. 

She wasn't sure how long she lay there before she heard footsteps approaching. 

"Any changes?" The voice that had just arrived asked. She could've sworn she knew them, but the fire crawling throughout her skin made it difficult to focus.

"I think she was having another nightmare, she was whimpering a lot." The presence beside her responded. Was she in a bed with them? Or maybe on a couch?

Suddenly something cold was laid across her forehead, and the relief it brought was instantaneous. The untouched parts of her face still stung but the burning in the rest of her body allowed itself to lessen. 

"You put it too low, the water's gonna drip into her eyes again." The person beside her shifted around and she felt the cold on her forehead being moved. 

"Jungkook for the last time it helps soothe the burns on her eyelids when the water drips, quit moving it around," The outside voice chastised. The coolness of what she assumed was a wet washcloth made it easier for her to think. Was that Hobi's voice?

"How come you can't heal her more anyways?" Jungkook asked, repositioning the washcloth yet again. 

"Well my magic mostly works by helping her body heal itself," Hobi explained, "but she's so weak right now I  have to focus on keeping her stable."

"Why don't we take her to a real doctor then? Couldn’t they fix her?"

"They wouldn't be doing much different than what I am right now, and I think she would prefer to stay home."

Jungkook paused for a moment, his fingers ever so gently touching the side of her face. "Do you think she's in pain?" 

The silence that filled the room seemed to answer his question, and he continued. "If they had just-"

"Enough, Jungkook. Arguing about it isn't going to change what happened, okay? He's gonna tell her when she's better, but just leave it alone for now." Hobi sounded tired, and Y/n felt worry filling her chest. What had she missed while she was out?

Jungkook's only response was to move closer to her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. Hobi sighed, and she heard his footsteps fade into the distance once more. Y/n felt the washcloth being adjusted again, and then she slipped back into unconsciousness. 

———————————————————————————

The next time she woke, the fire in her body had subsided. She still felt unseasonably warm and utterly exhausted, but it was not nearly as bad as it was last time. Someone was in the bed with her again, talking to another person in the room. 

"You know she's not in a coma right? You don't have to read to her." It sounded like Jungkook was still next to her, and she wondered how much time had passed since she was last conscious. 

"And you don't have to stay in the same bed as her the whole time, but here we are,” replied the other voice. Was it Jimin this time? Even without the incessant burning, the exhaustion made thinking difficult. 

"I'm watching over her," Jungkook stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, you've made that pretty clear." Jimin said, sounding a little annoyed. "Speaking of, when are you gonna let them visit her?"

"Is never an option?"

Jimin sighed. "You know how bad they feel about what happened Kookie, you can't keep blaming them."

"Well when she's no longer in pain because of what Namjoon did and what Tae didn't do, then I'll let her decide if she wants to be around them."

"Jungkook-"

"If Tae had done a better job protecting her she wouldn't be in such a bad state!" Jungkook had sat up now,  clearly agitated. "If he can't be trusted to keep her safe then I'll have to do it myself."

Jimin fell silent. A few moments passed, and she felt his hand brush a strand of hair out of her face, coming to a rest on her forehead. His touch stung, but she didn’t have the energy to flinch away. 

“I think her fever broke, she doesn’t feel nearly as hot as she did yesterday,” he said, quieter now.

“...yeah. I’ve been keeping an eye on it,” Jungkook responded. “Do you think she might wake up soon?”

“Let’s hope so,” Jimin replied. He picked up his book and began reading as Jungkook settled back down beside her, and Y/n found herself drifting back into sleep as she tried to piece together what everyone was so upset about.

———————————————————————————

When she woke up again, the space beside her was empty. She listened for a moment to see if anyone was in the room with her, but detected no voices or movement. Forcing her eyes open, she looked around the room. It was dark, but she could make out potted plants neatly lined on a windowsill that still had the curtains drawn-back, and she figured she must be in Jin’s bed.

The other times she had woken up, there had always been at least one person in the room with her, so the sudden silence sat uneasily in her stomach. Gathering all her energy, she pushed herself into a sitting position. The dizziness that washed over her was almost enough to send her back into unconsciousness, but she pushed through it. She paused for a moment to let her head settle before looking around the room again. 

From her new vantage point she could see a dark shape of Hobi lying in his bed, sound asleep. His wings were sprawled out behind him, glimmering in the moonlight like a fresh blanket of snow. Seeing him there eased some of her worries, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest easily until she knew everyone was okay.

Giving herself till the count of three, she swung her legs off the bed as her muscles screamed in protest. Her body wanted nothing more than for her to lay back down and sleep for another month, but she stubbornly ignored it. Slowly, but surely, she stood up. The whole world seemed to shift and sway around her as she began to take unsteady steps towards the hallway.

She leaned heavily against the doorframe as soon as she arrived at that milestone. Her hair, unwashed and tangled, had fallen in front of her eyes during her expedition, and she pushed it out of her face with annoyance. As her fingers skimmed her cheek however, pain shot through her skin. She flinched back reflexively, wondering what had happened to cause such injuries. Delicately she explored her skin with her fingertips, and found it unusually rough and generating an abnormal amount of heat. Were those burn marks all over her face?

Uneasily she pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, and began to move down the hallway. She had to know that they were safe, especially since there was clearly a lot of tension between everybody right now. She found herself wondering if she was to blame for the state of things as she made her way towards a light in the living room. It was slow going, and she had to lean the majority of her body weight against the wall, but she was making progress. 

As she passed the bathrooms, she noticed that one of the doors was cracked open. Pausing for a moment, she listened intently to see if anyone was inside, and was surprised to hear the sound of soft snores coming from inside. The thought of someone asleep on the toilet made her smile, and decided to let them be as she continued her trek towards the living room.

Eventually she arrived at the edge of the hallway. She could see Jin and Namjoon talking in hushed tones, and felt relief wash over her. Being unsure if her loved ones were okay hurt more than any of the physical pain she had endured, and she was glad to see that at least the majority of her family had been accounted for since she first woke up. She took another step forward, leaving the support of the wall on unsteady feet as she tried to speak. At first nothing came out, but when she tried again she managed to croak out a few words.

“You’re both okay…” she said, her voice rough from disuse.

Instantly the two boys looked up at her, eyes wide. Before she knew it Jin was in front of her, checking her over for any new injuries. Namjoon however remained still as stone on the couch, looking as if he was staring at a ghost.

“Y/n what are you doing out of bed!” Jin exclaimed. “Jungkook was supposed to be watching you.”

“I needed-” she stopped to clear her throat, “I needed to make sure everyone was okay…”

Jin’s expression softened, and he placed a hand gingerly on her head. “We’re all okay Y/n, we’ve all just been worried about you.”

“Tae is okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, Tae's fine. We found him not long after you collapsed and got you both home straight away.” He answered.

"I'm really glad…" she said, smiling softly. Her mission finally completed, she felt her legs buckle underneath her, and she collapsed into Jin’s arms. 

"Easy now,” Jin cooed as he caught her. “Let’s get you back into bed, Y/n.”

Effortlessly he scooped her up bridal style, and began carrying her down the hallway. As they passed the bathroom, Y/n piped up. “I think Jungkook’s asleep in the bathroom, I heard snoring coming from inside as I walked by.”

Jin laughed softly, making Y/n smile. “Of course he is. In his defense, he hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s too insistent that he has to keep an eye on you at all times.”

“Don’t tell him I got out of bed… I don’t want him to think he has to push himself even more to make sure I’m always being watched,” Y/n worried.

“Alright, I won’t tell him anything, as long as you tell him to get more rest the next time you talk to him,” Jin reassured.

“Deal.”

They arrived back in Jin’s room, and he gingerly set her down back onto the bed.

“Hey Jin?”

“Yeah?” he replied, covering her with a blanket.

"Everytime I wake up everyone seems to be arguing… is that because of me?"

Jin looked at her sympathetically. "It’s not your fault, Y/n. Tensions have been a little high but that’s just because we want you to get better, and we were scared that you got so hurt. This will all blow over in no time, you just need to focus on recovering, okay?"

She was silent for a few more moments. "I’ve never transformed like that before… I was just so scared Tae was gonna get hurt…"

"I know, sweetheart," Jin reassured, taking her hand within his own. "You did what you could to protect someone you love. We all understand that."

"I was so scared…" she murmured. As she drifted back into sleep, she thought about how nice it felt to hold his hand.

———————————————————————————

Sunlight filtered into the room the next morning, and Y/n woke up to the sound of someone singing. The voice was quiet yet effortlessly beautiful, and as she opened her eyes she saw Jungkook next to her once more. He hadn't noticed her wake yet, still absently tracing shapes onto the back of her hand as he sang. 

She stayed still for a few minutes,  basking in the sound of his voice. She had heard him sing before, but this one felt different. It was soft, and intimate, much like the feeling of someone caressing your cheek. She couldn't make out the lyrics, but it sounded like some sort of lullaby. Or maybe a love song?

Eventually she decided she should let him know that she was awake now,  and she turned her hand over to intertwine their fingers. Immediately he looked up at her in surprise, and as he saw her open eyes staring back at him he broke out into a huge grin.

"Y/n!" He exclaimed, practically jumping on top of her so he could wrap his arms around her. "You're finally awake I've been so worried I missed you so much!!!!!"

She giggled as the dragon boy nuzzled into her neck, a deep rumble emanating from his chest. She never knew that dragons could purr. "I'd say I missed you too Kookie but you were always right next to me whenever I woke up!"

"Well I had to watch over you and make sure you were okay," he explained, his breath warm against her skin. 

"I know," she smiled. "It was nice always knowing you were right there if I needed anything. How long was I out anyways?"

"Two full days, today would've been the third morning that you didn't wake up."

She was silent for a few moments, "I'm sorry if I scared you guys…"

Jungkook lifted his head to stare at her seriously. "You should be!" He scolded. "You're not allowed to ever get hurt or sick again, okay? You have to stay safe for all our sakes or I'll have to handcuff us together so I can always be there to protect you."

Y/n giggled at the thought. "Okay, I'll be more careful from now on," she promised. 

Jungkook settled his face back into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. They sat in silence, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/n running her hand along his back. After all the pain and uncertainty in the last few days, it was nice to be held and to know she was safe now.

"Does it hurt?" He asked, breaking the stillness in the room.

Y/n hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. The fever was finally gone, but her body felt like it was filled with rocks. Not to mention the stinging in her face whenever she so much as raised her eyebrows. 

“Well, it’s way better than when I first was conscious, so that’s good! I’m mostly just really tired,” she admitted with a sigh.

“Then go back to bed! You still need more rest so you can recover” Jungkook chastised.

“Nooooo,” she whined, pulling him even closer to her. “I’ve already slept for two whole days, I want to spend some time with my Kookie before I sleep more!"

Even without seeing his face, she could feel him grin against her skin as his purring got louder. "I guess that's an acceptable excuse," he said, trying to hide his delight.  

"Did I miss anything while I was asleep?" She asked. 

"...No, we were just waiting for you to wake up," he answered, unconvincingly. 

"Jungkook…"

Before she could press him further, she heard footsteps approaching down the hall. As she turned to look, Jimin appeared in the doorway, holding a tray with two plates of chocolate chip pancakes and two glasses of juice.

"Y/n!!!!" He exclaimed, quickly setting down the tray and rushing over to her side. "How are you feeling? Are you hungry? Are you in pain? Should I go get Hobi?"

She paused for a moment, trying to comprehend his barrage of questions. "Uhhh I'm okay, yeah I could use some food, the pain is manageable, and you don't need to bug him."

Before she even finished what she was saying Jimin was busy collecting all the pillows from Hobi's bed. "Are you able to sit up?"

"Yeah, I got it," Y/n assured. "Kookie, you're gonna have to move though."

The dragon boy sat up with a slight pout, giving Jimin a dirty look for interrupting their cuddling session. They watched with concern as she slowly but surely pushed herself into a sitting position. As much as she tried to hide it, the pain it caused was clear on her face. When she was finally up, Jimin placed the extra pillows behind her so she could lean back and still eat. 

"Here, we still had some pancakes from the other day," Jimin said, placing the tray on her lap. "I brought some for me and Jungkook but since you're up you can have my share!"

"Nonsense!" She asserted. "There are six pancakes so we can all have two!"

Jimin began to protest but she was already distributing the pancakes, leaving the two for her on the tray and handing Jimin and Jungkook their plates. "Now we can all enjoy the pancakes together!"

"What about utensi-" Jungkook started, but stopped with a giggle as he saw Y/n already scarfing down the pancake with her hands. It had been a while since she had properly eaten, so he didn't blame her. When they were done, Jimin brought the dishes out to the kitchen and then clambered into the bed with Y/n, much to Jungkook's annoyance. 

"There's not enough room Jimin," the dragon complained.

"Well maybe if you moved over more there would be," Y/n pointed out with a giggle. With an overly dramatic sigh Jungkook scooched over and soon Y/n was surrounded by snuggles on all sides, much to her delight. 

"Where's everyone else?" She asked, as Jungkook buried his face in the crook of her neck once more. 

"Hobi is sunning himself on the roof, and everyone else is working," Jimin answered, intertwining his fingers with hers.

She hummed in acknowledgement, and a comfortable silence fell on the three of them. Unfortunately, as much as Y/n wanted to stay awake to spend time with her family, the warm embrace of sleep called to her, and soon she found herself slipping away once again. 

———————————————————————————

When she finally woke, it was beginning to get dark. She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep again, and sighed as she stared up at the ceiling. Jungkook was gone again, but she could hear the sounds of conversation coming from down the hall. It seemed like she had woken up while they were eating dinner.

Before she could force herself up out of bed, the door to the room creaked open and someone slipped inside. She had closed her eyes to shield them from the sudden bright light from the hallway, but she recognized Yoongi's voice as he approached the side of the bed. 

"I know you're asleep," he whispered, "but I saw this on my way home from work and… well I thought you might like it."

She felt him place something on the bed next to her. It seemed like some sort of plushie, but she couldn't tell what it was for sure without opening her eyes. Either way, he seemed to think she was still asleep, and she was curious to see if he too would say more than when she was awake. 

Sure enough, she sensed him hesitate for a moment, as if he was contemplating what to do next. Just as she was considering saying something, she felt him lean forwards, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Get better soon," he whispered, adjusting the blanket on top of her. 

"Thank you, Yoongi," she whispered back, smiling up at him as his eyes finally adjusted to the light in the room. 

"I didn't- I wasn't- I was just checking your fever," he stuttered. Even in the dim light, she could see how flustered he was. 

"Mmm of course you were, because you're supposed to feel the top of my head instead of my forehead," she teased. 

"Well you- I didn't want to hurt your burns," he defended. "It doesn't matter anyways it was stupid enjoy your Stitch plushie."

"Wait Yoongi!" She called out, and he stopped with his hand on the door. "It was sweet, thank you, really. For the plushie and the get better kiss"

Although still clearly embarrassed, she saw his body relax. "It's no problem," he mumbled. 

There was a brief pause, and then it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Um, since you're here though, do you think you could help me to the bathroom?"

He laughed, and returned to the bed so he could scoop her up in his arms.

"I can walk you know," she pouted. "I just need a little help."

"Well you can walk yourself out of the bathroom then," he told her, amused. As they arrived at the bathroom, Yoongi gingerly placed her so she was standing, making sure she was steady before removing his hands.

"I'll uh, wait outside. Yell if you need anything." And just like that he was gone, the door shut between them. 

When she was done, she shuffled her way back to the hallway. As she opened the door, Yoongi held out his arm for her to steady herself on, and she gave him a grateful smile as she grabbed on. 

"Do you want to go say hi to everyone or go back to bed?” He asked.

“I wanna go say hi!” she said cheerfully.

Slowly they made their way back down the hallway, Yoongi matching the pace Y/n set. As they drew closer, she could smell the tantalizing scent of Jin’s homemade hamburgers wafting down the hallway. Her stomach growled in response, much to her embarrassment, and she heard Yoongi chuckle beside her.

“I guess we should get some more food in you since you’re up,” he suggested, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Don’t tease me! I’ve been asleep for so long it’s a miracle I haven’t wasted away,” she pouted.

“I wasn’t trying to-”

Before he could finish what he was saying, Taehyung appeared around the corner. Even though she had been reassured that he was okay, she was almost overwhelmed with relief to actually see it in person. And it was clear to see that he felt the same way. As soon as he caught sight of her, she saw tears fill his eyes as he rushed to envelop her in his arms.

“Y/n I’m so sorry I should’ve stayed awake I shouldn’t have left you alone I didn’t even think that something like that was going to happen I’m so sorry it’s all my fault.” His voice cracked as he babbled, and she could feel his tears drip onto her shoulder.

“No Tae please don’t blame yourself,” she begged, feeling her own eyes fill with tears in response, “it’s my fault I got hurt, I just got so scared and lost control, there’s nothing you could’ve done differently.”

“But if I had only-”

“I think Tae has a point,” Jungkook interrupted, appearing behind Taehyung and circling around Y/n so he could wrap his arms around her waist protectively.

“Jungkook, we’ve been over this,” Yoongi warned, giving the dragon an annoyed look. “It was an accident, and blaming each other is only going to cause more in-fighting. Let it go.”

Y/n turned to look up at Jungkook in shock. “You’ve been fighting with Tae? Because of me?”

“Only because he didn’t do a good job protecting you,” he defended, but as Y/n stared up at him with tears still in her eyes, he felt his conviction wavering.

“I don’t ever want you guys to fight, especially not because of me,” Y/n pleaded. “You guys were such good friends, and I want you to all be happy. Please don’t be mad at him anymore Kookie, he did everything he could.”

Jungkook sighed, trying to look anywhere but her pleading eyes. “I guess I could try to forgive him, for your sake,” he grumbled, punctuating his words with a kiss to her cheek. Even though his kiss stung a bit, Y/n still felt her cheeks heat up in response. As she looked away bashfully, she didn’t see the smug smirk the dragon boy shot at Tae. 

“Come on Y/n, let’s go get you some food,” Yoongi intervened, prying the girl from between the other two. 

———————————————————————————

Her recovery was slow, but steady. During her first night properly awake she ate four hamburgers and then fell asleep on top of her fifth, much to the amusement of the rest of the family. Jungkook stayed home with her every day, barely leaving her side, and for the first couple of days she had healing sessions with Hobi every night. However she quickly realized how much of a toll the constant healing was taking on the angel, and refused to let him treat her anymore, stating that the burns would heal fine on their own. The boys tried to argue with her on this, but at this point it was doing more harm to Hobi than it was good to her, and she refused to budge on the matter.

At some point she was moved to Jungkook's bed so Jin’s back could have a break from the uneven surface of the couch, and the dragon moved to sleeping in the living room instead. She had tried to protest, arguing that they could at least share the bed, but the other boys seemed pretty against that particular idea. 

During this time, Namjoon barely spoke to her. He didn't outright ignore her, but he kept all his answers short and never initiated the conversation. This change in attitude left her feeling hurt and confused. Was he really that scared of her now? Whenever she pressed the others on the issue, they gave her dismissive answers and changed the subject, which frustrated her even further. She would rather be upfront about the problem than continue pretending there wasn't one. 

It weighed heavily on her mind day in and day out, and she found herself on the back porch one night,  contemplating what to do when she heard the door open behind her. 

"Y/n… what are you doing out here?" It was Namjoon, looking just as wary as he did everytime he looked at her lately. 

"Oh, you're finally talking to me again?" She snapped, and she winced at how aggressively it had come out. "...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that."

"No, I'm the one who should be apologizing," he said, coming over to stand next to her by the railing. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, I just… well I was scared of having this conversation…"

The sounds of the forest filled the silence between them as both considered their next words carefully. 

"I've spent a lot of my life being scared," Y/n admitted, staring intently into the dark treeline. "So I never really learned what to do if I end up becoming something to be afraid of." She sighed, letting her head drop so she was looking at the ground. "I don't ever want to leave you guys, but, if this is a problem we can't overcome, I'll bow out. You shouldn't have to live in fear, and you were here first, so if I need to I'll… I'll…"

Namjoon looked up at her in surprise. Tears were beginning to spill down her face, and she covered her mouth in an attempt to contain the sobs bubbling up from her chest. Had she really gotten the situation so backwards? For a moment he hesitated, unsure if his touch would be a welcome one, but the sight of her crying was too much not to wrap his arms around her.

"Oh Y/n, that's not it at all," he whispered, stroking her hair as he held her.

"What is it then, Namjoon?" She asked, untangling herself from his arms and taking a step back. "For weeks now you've barely spoken to me, barely even looked at me. Do you know how much that hurts? I just want to know what's wrong so we can fix this and be friends again. I miss you. I miss your hugs, and the way your ears twitch when you're dreaming, and the face you make when you break something. But even when you're standing right next to me, it feels like you're a million miles away. So just tell me how to fix this so things can go back to normal. Please Namjoon..."

Namjoon opened his mouth, and then let it fall shut. The cicadas cried out as the night breeze swirled around them, and Y/n waited for his answer. Without a word, he reached into his back pocket, and handed her a small gift box. It was white with a navy ribbon around it, and she looked at him in confusion as she opened it. 

"A knife?" She asked. "I don't understand…" The present glinted in the moonlight as she examined it, the soft glow highlighting it's lethal edge.

"A silver knife."

Immediately she slammed the box shut, staring at him in horror. "Namjoon where did you get this?! This is so dangerous to even have around you, why would you give this to me?!"

"I wanted to make sure you felt safe," he explained, unable to meet her eyes. 

"Namjoon, I still don't understand..."

"It was me in the woods when you were protecting Tae, and it was me when you were attacked three months ago. I’m the wolf who almost killed you."

His words hung in the air between them, heavy and irreversible, like the result of a mirror's first introduction to a hammer. She stared at him wordlessly as memories swarmed her mind. The shock of vicious teeth burying themselves into her flesh, blood soaking into the dirt, a struggle ensues. As she runs her leg dangles uselessly, and as she stops fear consumes her endlessly. The pain is near unbearable, but the fear is worse. Every breath and every broken twig and every stray scent are predators one step behind her, eager to finish her off for good. She can't slow down or relax, too aware that each breath may very well be her last.

But even when she is safe, when the pain has been eased, the fear remains, and the second she lets her guard down she is reminded why. The danger is always breathing down her neck, running only delays the inevitable and taking a stand leaves her burned and broken. 

Just for a heartbeat, she considers opening the box. 

But as the wave of memories subsides, she sees Namjoon in front of her. He still can't meet her eyes, his ears flat against his head. Those ears…

No, she had to keep those two beings separated in her head. If Namjoon had wanted to kill her, he had plenty of opportunities. This was one of her dearest friends, someone with whom she had swapped secrets and comforts back and forth like pokemon cards. This was the man who lost his wallet four times in the same store, someone who constantly asked for help finding something that was in his hands, the only being capable of breaking a Nokia. But he always held her with a gentle reverence, as if she were a glass sculpture, beautiful and fragile, and he was always there for her when she needed him.

"How… did it happen? I thought you usually didn't hunt. " She was clearly hesitant, but she hadn't run just yet. It was a start. 

"Time got away from us, and the full moon arrived before I could prepare," he admitted. "I can remember a strong hunger, and then I remember blood, and then pain, and the last thing I remember was watching a deer run away…”

She was silent, and he continued. “Y/n… you have to know how sorry I am for what happened. I was going to tell you but… I didn’t want to scare you off. We all love you so much, I couldn’t bear to put your position here in jeopardy. But then I got so excited when I found you in the woods I didn’t even think to turn back… and you got hurt again because of that. If I could go back I would undo all of the pain I caused you, but I know that isn't possible. You don't have to forgive me, but please… don't leave. Don't punish the rest of them for something I did."

She was silent for a long time, so long that by the end of it she was wondering if she even knew how to speak anymore, or if she were permanently rendered mute by the sharp edges of this exposed truth. 

"I'm scared Namjoon…" her voice was only a whisper, almost lost among the sounds of the night. "I don't want to be, because I know it's you and I love you, but… those deep-rooted instincts to keep myself safe and run and hide till the danger passes are running wild within me. I don't want to go, but for so long the only answer I've known is running. I don't know how else to handle this."

"Well… for someone who's spent her whole life running, you've got a lot of fight in you. Twice now you've kicked my ass, but maybe you can use that spirit to fight for the future you've earned, here, safe with us. Even if it just means fighting your own instincts, don't let me or you or anyone else take this place from you. It is yours, and you belong here." 

Namjoon stepped away from her, moving towards the stairs to the driveway. "I'm gonna go spend the night in a hotel or something, you stay here and sleep on it. We can talk again tomorrow."

Y/n watched wordlessly as he got into the car and drove off. She wasn't sure how long she stood there, watching the spot where she had last seen his headlights, before finally going back inside.

[archived-gtronpa-account]

you mind writing anything with shuichi and kokichi? i just love how you write them iejfjdkdij

Tysm bby 🥺🥺 I too love writing those losers pfpfpfpf

(sorry this took so long btw!! at this point ur prolly thinking your ask got eaten by tumblr bsbsbsbs writer's block just hit me HARD)

____

Word count: 2800

Summary: The participants of the killing game stay away from Kokichi, and big villain Kokichi antagonizes himself. Meanwhile, Shuichi just wants to have a talk.

____

After Monokuma's new motive, everyone agreed that Kokichi had to be the mastermind. It didn't help that even the boy himself pushed the idea on to his classmates. Shuichi didn't buy into the obvious lie.

The motive put Kokichi at a severe disadvantage; he couldn't access the main school building, the dorms— really, he couldn't get inside any building. Not only that, but he was much easier to spy on and sneak up to. Still, Shuichi could see why it was so easy for his peers to think of Kokichi as the villain hiding among them; on surface level, it would make sense for the mastermind to put himself in a position of power to strike fear and force the killing game to start, and somehow making himself grow taller than every building overnight seemed like a good way to do that.

Shuichi's footsteps were slow with reluctance as he walked through the courtyard. Kaito and Maki wouldn't let him go talk to Kokichi if they knew— at least not alone, but they didn't have to know nor find out. The three of them had already separated long ago after they were done with training, and come to think of it, he hadn't met anyone else wandering out on his way, besides Ryoma who hung around the dorms. He was glad no one would question him, but nervous at the idea of having little to no witness should something happen that night.

Kokichi was thankfully awake, sitting behind the main building and staring hard at his checkered scarf that had for some reason been laid out on the ground. Shuichi felt even more hesitant to break whatever odd thing was going on. All of a sudden, he remembered why he was so nervous; Kokichi looked much, much more intimidating when he could grab anyone in a fist and dangle them twenty feet above ground. Shuichi decided he could try to talk to him another time, and spun on his heels to retreat when a voice made him freeze on the spot.

"My beloved detective! I was just thinking about you~"

When said detective looked over his shoulder, he found a giant Kokichi peering down at him with a radiant smile, and he somehow found himself regretting both his decision to come and to leave.

"Kokichi, ah… Wh-what were you thinking?"His hand unconsciously reached for the hat on his head to pull it further down, and he didn't miss how Kokichi's eyes flickered to the hat and reflected something that vanished too fast for Shuichi to read into.

"Nothing, nothing! Just thinking that you're basically my best target to kill," almost too easily, his smile stretched into a familiar leer, "An investigation without our dearest, coolest detective just wouldn't go the same. Besides, no one could suspect me of killing my beloved, so you're my ticket to get out of this hell school! Ah, or maybe I could bury your dead body so that there would be no body discovery and no class trial, only the pain and despair of loosing yet another classmate. How's that sound?"

What the— that was harsh, and quick, almost instantaneous. Kokichi was definitely on edge, all the more reasons not to talk to him. Still…"Please don't joke about that," Shuichi pulled his hat further down, silently apologizing to Kaede for still being this weak after the death of so many of his friends. He didn't dare look up to the large face of the evil leader.

A beat passed, then another, and when nothing more happened and the boy thought nothing more would happen and he would better leave already, "… Sheesh, fine. I'm sorry you're so sensitive, Shuichi."

"A-ah," the sudden mood swing caught him off guard. Kokichi's voice had fallen much lower and quieter than its usual childish high pitch. "It's fine." He still didn't dare look up, instead focusing his gaze on the scarf that laid on the ground. "I… What were you doing?"

"Oh, this? Nothing, really, just lil' old me playing games with lil' old myself. Hey, maybe I won't kill Saihara if he beats me at a game of chess!" Without looking up, he could feel the giant boy shift and lean above him and saw his shadow stretch until it engulfed him.

"Wha- I didn't- I only wanted to talk a bit."

"Wha-? Ah? I did-didn't- I only want to play a game. So really, it's your choice."

There was really no arguing with him. Maybe Shuichi could get him to talk if he accepted to play with him for a bit. "Alright, but," he stepped closer up, inspecting the scarf. It had been folded into a sixty four squares chessboard, but, "How are we playing without pieces?"

"You just have to imagine real hard that they're there, and suddenly you can see them right in front of you! I also hope you know the algebraic notation, since we'll be needing it." Shuichi tried to ignore the unnerving feeling of the ground faintly shaking under his feet as Kokichi shifted and fidgeted on his spot like an overly excited child.

"I think I do, but doesn't this sounds a little too hard?"

"Geez, Shuichi, I didn't think you of all people would have trouble imagining what's not there. You look like the kid in middle school who only talked to his imaginary friends. Besides, games are always more fun on hard mode anyway." Shuichi sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he was about to waste precious sleep hours playing an impossible game of chess with a giant clown. He stepped closer still and positioned himself in front of the makeshift gameboard, then glanced up to Kokichi. Instead of the mocking smirk he'd expected, he was only met with a big, almost amused grin and eyes sparkling with excitement. Shuichi looked down again, some of the previous tension leaving his body. "Alright, I'll start, since black fits your aesthetic better. E-four."

And if the 'game' itself wasn't already hard enough, Shuichi couldn't, for the life of it, stay focused with how fidgety Kokichi was being. His fingers hammered down on the ground incessantly and his head rocked left and right the same way Angie's would, both motions sending faint vibrations in the ground under Shuichi's feet. He didn't get a break either when it was the others turn to play, since he'd state his next move without missing a beat— almost as if he'd already known what Shuichi would do. It was uncanny yet interesting to get an insight on how the supreme leader's brain worked, only it would have been better if it had happened before the weird growth motive, when Shuichi didn't have to fear he'd get snatched up in the air at any given moment.

Sometime in the next hour, he ended up taking his hat off to help him focus and get a clearer look at the gameboard; gameboard which he stood in the middle of, in an attempt to help him keep track of the pieces' placement. He frowned, spun around and looked left and right as he tried to remember where he'd left his rook. So focused and lost in the game, he failed to notice when his foot got caught in the fabric; on the next step he took, he fell back on his back. Startled and faces reddening, he fumbled to get back on his feet, when a large face came in his view and stopped him in his track.

"Nishishi~ Shuichi, you're really funny being like this." An encore of the insect incident; Kokichi's upside-down face loomed over him, so close he could faintly feel his warm breath ruffling his hair. Shuichi instinctively reached for a hat that wasn't there, before shuffling his hand back down in shame. He wished it had been there for reassurence, but ultimately decided it was for the best that he couldn't hide behind it. He couldn't be anything but intimidated by Kokichi when he towered over him like that and could so easily do so much, but he didn't want to be scared when he knew that Kokichi, despite all the awful things he was (and he was a lot of awful things) wouldn't go far with his games and wouldn't use his new stature to his advantage.

"It's…" he took a second to breath, regain his composure and look the giant supreme leader in the eyes, "It's hard to remember how the board is set after every move," he got up and brushed himself off. Why can you do it so easily? He wouldn't expect a serious answer to that, so he kept the question to himself.

"Oh hush, this is the only excuse you got to justify losing so badly?" He leaned away and smirked, "I could do you a favor and capture a couple more of your pieces, hmm? Or maybe, here," out of the corner of his eyes, Shuichi saw a large hand come his way, and all the courage he'd been building up for so long all but melted away as his eyes shut tight and stumbled several steps back, once again getting his foot caught in fabric and falling back on his butt. Atua help him, at that point, he only wished the fabric would swallow him whole so he wouldn't embarrass himself again.

He kept his eyes closed tight and waited, but when there was no pressure around himself he cracked an eye open and saw, to his relief, the hand hanging a few feet away from him. The relief was quickly replaced with shame, and he felt a little stupid for having gotten scared so easily after having put so much faith in Kokichi. From above, he heard the boy groan and say, "Relax Max, I said I wouldn't kill you until we're done with this game," with a tinge of annoyance. Fear lingered in Shuichi's mind when he saw the hand approaching him once again, but this time he managed to stand his ground when fingers slipped behind his back and easily scooped him up in an open palm.

In the next second, he was lifted and dropped off in one swift movement, leaving him dizzy and slightly sickened. He clutched on to whatever his hands found first, and took a moment to process his position on Kokichi's shoulder, and another moment to answer him when he said, "Better? Now you can't come whining that you can't see the board clearly."

"Yeah…" he muttered, still busy trying to find his balance. He found his hand balled up in a fist around a lone lock of purple hair, so he moved closer still until he was huddled against Kokichi's neck, and he hoped the other boy wouldn't hear his heart pounding with unease.

They were able to carry out the game for a while longer. At some point, Kokichi's hand ended up on his lap, and Shuichi, despite his anxiety spiking up at the gesture, stayed quiet about it, deciding to accept the extra bit of safety. He took it as a sign that Kokichi, too, was comfortable enough, so he decided to try to strike up the conversation he'd wanted to have.

"Are you sure you're not cheating ?" Maybe not the best way to start some small talk, but the first to come to mind when he was loosing more and more of his important imaginary pieces with every turn and he was sure Kokichi was somehow cheating.

"Who? M-Me?" Kokichi sniffled, and his shoulder jolted with a faked sob, leaving Shuichi to clutch onto the large hand on his lap like a lifeline. "I can't believe my beloved would accuse me of such- such a nefarious deed! Shuichi, you really broke my heart here."

Then all at once, his voice switched from 'heartbroken' back to nonchalant when he said, "Besides wouldn't you except the mastermind of this thrilling game of murder and betrayal to be good at some kids' strategy games? You know, I lied about my real talent, I'm actually the ultimate chess master…"

"You have poor taste in motives if you're really behind this killing game." Shuichi cut him off before he could drift away from the subject. A perfect opportunity not to waste. "I mean, this is more disadvantageous to you than anything. You can't access any building, nor can you hide anywhere if you need to be discreet for your secret evil plans. And if you were really the mastermind, you wouldn't want to single yourself out and leave our classmates feeling safe and secure…"

More and more inconsistencies came to his mind as he presented his deductions, and Kokichi listened, silent and unmoving. "I think… I think the reason behind this motive is for the mastermind to push our classmates away from you and to," he bit his lip and prepared himself to present yet another truth he didn't want to believe, "To force you to kill someone. The school can't accommodate for you for more than a few days at most, so unless the motive's effect is reversed soon…" he left the end unsaid.

Kokichi remained silent and still, so much so that Shuichi was almost tempted to reach out to his neck and check for a pulse, when he settled for, "Maan, Shuichi, you really are naive. You really thought this was all there was to this motive?" The hand on his lap slid off, and Kokichi leaned back against the wall behind him in an viciously abrupt movement that made Shuichi slip and almost fall, then he went on without a pause, "You know, your logic doesn't apply to every situation, mister detective. The only reason I care about is my own entertainment, simple as that. And if I get bored, I can reverse the motive whenever I want."

Shuichi couldn't see his face from his angle, but he could imagine the leer easily plastered on it, like a mask worn a hundred times. "Wouldn't you be breaking your own rules then? And admitting defeat to the participants of the game?"

The debate that ensued made Shuichi feel like he was back on trial grounds. Kokichi shot him arguments to prove he was mastermind. They were full of contradictions, half-hearted and shaky as a card castle in the middle of a storm, and too easily, his truth cut through the other's words like a bullet. Kokichi sounded bored, like he'd prefer keeping his lie true but wouldn't mind an outcome in which Shuichi busted him. And Shuichi wanted that, to see through Kokichi's lies, to get a chance to understand why he was so hellbent on making a villain out of himself when he so obviously worked to stop the killing game just like his classmates, he wanted to reach out to him and pull him out of his self-inflicted loneliness and work together with him to save their friends, if only he would take his hand.

Their debate came to a halt when a crash was heard from Miu's lab. Shuichi distinctly felt Kokichi stiffen and tense up at the sound. He brought a hand back up to his smaller classmate and wrapped it around him in a loose fist, before he got up and made his way to the inventor's lab in quiet, quick steps. There, Shuichi was lowered back on solid ground and rushed in the lab.

His knees almost gave out, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Ryoma's body lay in the middle of the room in a pool of his own blood. Lifeless eyes stared at the detective, and the detective stared back. Shuichi felt his throat constrict, his vision swimming, he clutched his chest and tore his eyes away from the scene. He had let another one of his friends die, he would soon have to investigate the crime, to doom the killer among them by his own hands.

"Shit," he turned around, and there was Kokichi peering in the lab and their classmate's body with a frown. It vanished as quick as it had come and was replaced by a blank face with a click of his tongue. "Well then, Shuichi, I guess I'll leave you here to do your detective work while I go call the others, hmm?" And he got up without waiting for an answer. Before he left, Shuichi heard him mutter, "I hope the next motive doesn't make me really tiny or something."

_____

Gosh this took so long yet I still feel it's so bad. Hope I was at least able to quench some of your thirst for saiou bae

[tonydadisbestdad]

Sweet Rage

Peter ParkerxReader

Word Count: 1,350

Summary: You getting beat up and Peter is super overprotective but also so gentle.

Tugging your hood closer over your face you dug in your locker. You knew you couldn’t hide forever.

“Hey Y/N!”

You started, gripping your locker door. “He-hey Peter,” You greeted, closing your locker and turning away from him. “I have a yearbook meeting, I’ll talk to you later.”

“There’s no yearbook meeting,” he said, more to himself. He easily caught up to you. “That was a bad lie considering I’m the main photographer for the yearbook Y/N.”

“It-it’s for me and the writer’s. I decided all the layout people and photographers didn’t need to be there.” You lied, it felt awful lying to him but if you kept him going on this lie then maybe he wouldn’t ask about your ho-

“Okay then, why’s your hood up?” He asked, leaning forward trying to get a look at your face.

You quickly looked away. “Just- migraine, the light’s in this place are killer.”

“Do you need anything? I think I have some painkillers in my locker kit if you-“

“No,” you answered, “I’m fine, already took some.” You didn’t want to say yes and prolong your time with him, even if it was a lie. Even though you were in some pain. You stopped at a random empty classroom. “I’ll see you later,” You stated and tried to dodge into the room away from him.

But he caught your hand and tugged you back towards him. “Hey, no kiss? I’m-“

You had tripped over your feet at the sudden tug and caught yourself on his chest.

Wrapping his arm around your middle he chuckled. “Sorry, baby,” He said before tilting your chin up. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

You’d tried to pull your face away before he caught sight but you didn’t want your boyfriend to think you were rejecting him. A whimper left your throat as you turned away from his hand. You bit your lip on the side that wasn’t slit.

Peter looked around the hall for any teachers before opening that classroom door and pulling you through. “Sweetheart what happened?” He asked, tugging your hood down. More than just your cut lip appeared to him.

Your right eye and cheek were black and blue, as was your jawline on that side. This while scrapes dusted the other side of your face. As if someone hit you while your face was on the ground.

Rage built in Peter’s chest. He lightly grazed his fingers over the bruising. “Who did this to you?” His voice was quieter than his touch was soft.

Tears flooded your vision as you shook your head and looked down.

He put a hand on the back of your head and pulled you into his chest. He held you as you cried. It burned at his heart that someone did this to you. That he wasn’t there to protect you.

“Baby,” he whispered. “Who did it?”

You sniffled, “No, Pete-Peter. I don’t-don’t want you to worry about this okay? It’s fine, I’m okay. Really… I’m sorry for hiding… I knew you were gonna see but I just wanted to tell you before you did but I kept chickening out and-“

He brushed your hair behind your ear. “Baby, just tell me. I need to make sure something like this will never happen again.”

You shook your head against him.

“Do I need to go all detective on you? I won’t ask again, I swore I would never let anything happen to you and here this happened? You’re /everything/ to me. Just please, it kills me that I couldn’t protect you, at least let me make sure that no one ever does something like this to you again.”

You shook your head. “It-it was Stella and Maggie.” Two girls you’d known since 1st grade that never liked you. There were plenty of times they’d caused you to get hurt, but they’d never gone this far. And why had they? Because you and Peter had gotten together, you were editor of the yearbook, and actually starting to become popular since you worked with a lot of groups because of that job. They were jealous.

He nodded and kissed the top of your head, knowing why it finally reached this point. The two girls pined after Peter once Mysterio outed him as Spider-Man a year ago now. He never fell for anything they tried, once you started dating they tried to break the two of you up. You both ignored them. He supposed it was only a matter of time before something like physical assault happened.

“Don’t do anything, Peter, it’s really okay.” You tried, but as you looked up at him the look in his eyes told you he was not going to listen. You’d never seen him so angry and trying to keep his cool. You were grateful that he wasn’t mad at you, he was beyond the sweetest person you’d ever know. His anger surprised you. “O-or maybe just don’t get into trouble…”

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

Peter had Karen search the two girls out and as soon as they were found he was heading right for them.

He dropped down, right in front of them. “Hi ladies,” he said. He wasn’t even in his suit. He needed them to see his rage.

The two girls jumped in surprise.

“Peter,” Stella said, “You scared us.”

Maggie looked wearily at her friend. She knew they were in trouble and here Stella was pretending nothing was wrong.

“We need to talk,” Peter told them. He was trying to not show his anger yet, to make them feel secure.

“What’s up?” Stella asked. “Finally decide you were wrong for picking Y/N and come to ask me out?”

Maggie shrunk some and elbowed Stella in her side.

Stella waved her off and smiled what she thought was sexily at Peter.

Peter smiled back at her, he was shaking with anger. It was bad enough what she did, but now she decided to make comments and attempt to flirt with him? No. The look in his eyes was overtaken with his rage.

Stella took a step back in surprise. Maggie stayed in place with wide scared eyes.

“If you ever even think about touching Y/N,” he started. He let out a deep laugh. He stopped his sentence.

“P-Peter-“

“Shut up.” He snapped. “I’ve been quiet about you long enough. You’ve bullied Y/N long enough. You’re never going to look at her again, let alone speak to or touch her. You might thnk it’s cool that I’m Spider-Man and I help people.” His eyes grew dark. “But I will not hesitate to web you to the underside of a bridge. And my webs don’t last forever. Do I make myself clear? And if you even think about telling anyone I threatened you, you’ll have a very powerful lawyer coming after you for assault and no one’s gonna believe you that I threatened you. Do I make myself clear?”

The two girls were practically cowering against each other.

“Good.” Peter was gone a moment later.

There were light footsteps on your fire escape before a soft tap on the window.

You smiled and moved to open the window.

Peter stepped in and scooped you up. “Hi beautiful,” He kissed a spot on your cheek that was not scraped.

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck as he sat down on your bed with you in his lap.

“Took care of everything,” he told you with a smile.

“Thanks, baby. I’m sorry you had to do that.” You cuddled into his neck.

He hugged you close. “I love you, I never want you to get hurt and I’ll do everything I can to make sure that you’re safe.”

You smiled and pulled back just enough so you could kiss him.

To say that your two bullies that’d been after you more than half your life hightailed it away from you in fear, well that was an understatement. Peter squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss there.

Wanna be tagged? Just ask!

@manchurian-barnes @marrvelle-fics @chloe-geoghegan1 @buckysendoftheline @peterparkerscamera @httpmcrvel @karlitabi-rrito @ximaginx @esistmon

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Limitless- Chapter 4

F/M Main Pairing: Y/N x Johnny Seo (Side Pairing: Y/N x Jaehyun)

Genre: Fantasy AU; Harry Potter AU

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: explicit language, unsolicited love potion drinking, and some Johnny angst at the end (is that a warning?)

Summary: It might sound cruel, but Y/N was willing to do anything if it meant getting Johnny Seo off her back...

Tag List: @do-you-like-riddles @ki-aechan @the-usernames-i-like-are-taken @rissaxworld @dru-shadow @completenctrash @haechans-sunflower @neocultech-baby @jaectizen @yutamist @lunavbm @seriousballoon @nekojohndo @n0teanoshade @lerissa @kickin--it​

A/N: Some stuff goes down in this part, so prepare accordingly...

Chapter Four

“It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love...” (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince)

It was morning when I found Mark, Jisung, and Chenle sitting together in the library while they worked on a class project. I smiled in their direction as I approached them, returning Jisung’s greeting when I paused next to their table. “Mark,” I said, startling the younger boy who wasn’t expecting to be addressed. “Do you have a moment?”

Mark glanced at Jisung, and my step-brother merely shrugged in response. “Okay,” Mark said, and I wordlessly led him to a quieter corner of the library.

“Don’t say anything to your brother,” I started, and Mark was immediately suspicious.

“What’s this about, Y/N?”

“I was talking to Jaemin the other night in the Hufflepuff common room,” I said. “He told me that you were really good at making potions.”

“Yeah,” Mark agreed sheepishly. “It’s my best subject.”

“He told me the same thing,” I said, leaning in closer. “I have something to ask you, but you can’t tell your brother.”

“Why?”

“Because Taeyong might actually kick my ass if he found out,” I said, and perhaps it would’ve been humorous under any other circumstances to see the expression of shock petrifying Mark’s features. 

“Really?” Mark questioned with wide eyes.

I grinned at his innocent expression. “What do you know about love potions?”

“Love potions?”

I nodded, leaning back against one of the bookshelves. “Well?”

“Uh...I know that Amortentia is the most powerful love potion...or that’s what my textbook says.”

“What about something with less of an impact?”

“Oh! Like a prank or something?”

“Exactly!” I beamed, reaching over to squeeze Mark’s shoulder reassuringly. “Do you think you can make something like that for me?”

“What for?”

I shrugged. “It’s nothing that’ll get you in trouble.”

But Mark still hesitated, searching the area around us as if expecting a Professor to jump out of nowhere and deduct house points from Ravenclaw. “I don’t know, Y/N. You seem pretty cool, but the whole thing sounds risky...”

“I’ll owe you a huge favor,” I pleaded with him. “Anything that you want.”

“Anything?” Mark gasped with eyes full of possibilities that I dare not surmise.

“Within reason,” I added, unsure of how to process the unfamiliar gleam in his his golden-colored eyes.

“Okay,” Mark finally agreed. “But it won’t be very strong.”

“That’s fine,” I reassured him, and I watched Mark carefully as he started to return to his table.

“Oh, and Mark, I have one more thing to ask you...”

He turned back around, hesitantly interlocking his hands in front of him. “Yeah?”

I smirked at his timid nature. “Let’s keep this a secret from Johnny.”

One Week Later

It wasn’t very long thereafter that I learned of Mark’s inability to maintain any semblance of discretion concerning our plan. But I was still annoyed when Jisung brought up the subject while we were busy attending to our individual homework assignments. “I heard about what you’re planning with Mark.”

I rolled my eyes, turning my head to the side to look at Jisung. “He told you?”

Chenle snorted from next to us, relaxing on the wide couch nestled in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. “Mark is the worst person you could ask to keep a secret.”

I groaned at the revelation. “Just as long as Johnny doesn’t find out-”

“Why?” Jisung interrupted. 

“We’re not exactly on good terms,” I lied, hoping to assuage Jisung’s natural curiosity. But it was true, though, and that much had become apparent ever since the stunt Johnny had pulled with the Gryffindors during their tryout session. 

“Johnny’s really not so bad, Y/N,” Jisung said. “He always helps me and Haechan with our projects.”

“Maybe he’s more tolerable when it comes to first-years,” I grumbled.

“So, what are you doing with a love potion?” Chenle asked, leaning across Jisung to look at me. “Does it have something to do with Johnny?”

“Maybe it’s a surprise,” I said in response.

Chenle pouted when he realized that I wouldn’t tell him anything else, returning his gaze to the empty sheet of parchment in front of him. In the meantime, I tried to focus on my project, but I couldn’t help but wonder who else might’ve found out about my plans with Mark. It was true that he agreed to keep the secret from Johnny, but if ran his mouth to the wrong person, then Johnny could find out irregardless. And I shivered at the thought of Ten or Yuta discovering the truth.

“Jaehyun!” Chenle interrupted my concerning thoughts, and I sighed in relief at the mention of the name that had managed to provide me with good memories of Hogwarts thus far.

Jaehyun greeted his cousin warmly before turning his attention to me. “Y/N, I hope you’re not planning to skip out on dinner again.”

I grinned at his tone. “Is this an invitation?”

Jaehyun laughed, holding out a hand for me which I graciously accepted. He helped me into a standing position, wrapping a friendly arm around my shoulders as he led me closer to the door. “I missed you last night,” he said, and my heart fluttered inside my chest at his profound declaration.

I glanced back at Chenle and Jisung, watching them rush to put their things away before they could join us. “I hope it wasn’t too boring without me,” I commented, easily sliding into a comfortable conversation with Jaehyun as we walked to the Great Hall.

It was never anything special, but I liked the idea of spending time with my younger brother and his friends in the Great Hall. Yeah, the food was fine, but it sometimes made me feel a little nostalgic for Durmstrang when I encountered familiar meals. Nevertheless, I always tried to make the most of these nightly occurrences, and I guess the other Gryffindor students had grown used to me sitting with them instead of my Hufflepuff house mates.

Sometimes, we were joined by Taeyong, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun’s other friends who were aligned with different houses. For the most part, they were pleasant to be around, and they didn’t seem to care about my past or the stigma attached to my last name. In fact, more often than not, they made a great effort to include me in their conversations, even if that meant trying to seem knowledgeable about Quidditch.

But tonight was different, and I couldn’t quite figure out why I felt like something monumental was about to happen. It didn’t help that I continued to meet Johnny’s curious gaze from across the room, and he was looking in the direction of our table more often than not. I narrowed my eyes when I caught him staring again, glancing away when Haechan decided to sit down next to my brother.

“Guess what!” he whispered, looking around at the others with a familiar dark smirk.

“Another one of your pranks?” Chenle asked, laughing when Haechan shot him a glare.

“No,” he huffed, reaching into his robes to retrieve a dark bottle. “Look what I have.”

Jisung’s eyes flew open in recognition. “How did you get that?”

I spotted the dark bottle from over Jisung’s shoulder, recognizing it as a familiar wine brand that my father enjoyed. “That’s classified information,” Haechan said.

However, even I knew better than to let the younger boys mess around with alcohol. “Give me that,” I groaned, trying to snatch the bottle away from his hands.

“If you wanted some, you should’ve just asked!” Haechan grinned, popping the cork before filling a goblet with the remainder of the contents. “I’m not really in the mood for pumpkin juice again.”

“Yeah? But you don’t have to break the rules,” I grumbled.

“You should try this, Y/N,” Haechan said, sliding a goblet closer to me from across the table.

“Where did you get it?” I asked, holding the glass to sniff at the rim.

“I had someone sneak it in from Hogsmeade,” Haechan explained with a proud smile.

“You can’t do that.” Winwin suddenly intervened after catching wind of our conversation, and he appeared like he was ready to initiate another one of his infamous lectures.

I smiled at his evident disbelief before trying a sip of the drink. The smell was strangely alluring, and the taste reminded me of something sweet. “Woah,” I remarked, quickly downing the remainder of the beverage. 

“Hey!” Jisung protested, frowning when I returned the goblet to the table. “I wanted to try it!”

“You're too young!” I said, but I still felt my face warm when I realized how thoughtless I had been to consume the entirety of the goblet, especially when there was alcohol involved. But there was no rational explanation for the sudden, and all-consuming desire that had overtaken me when my tongue first tasted the liquid. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t even realize...”

I broke off when I detected something warm prickling at the back of my neck. I lifted my head to survey the room, and I found my eyes drawn to the Slytherin table where a familiar pair of dark eyes met mine like a magnet. I held my breath, feeling the unfamiliar coils of desire lick hot inside the pit of my stomach. 

Johnny smirked, and the arrogance would normally incite the most volatile parts of my anger, but I felt strangely attracted to the way he was looking at me. And I continued watching him as he rose from his table, making his way out of the Great Hall without giving me another glance. “Y/N?” Jisung questioned, but I couldn’t look away from the spot where Johnny had disappeared. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, waving him off as I collected myself. “I’ll be right back.”

Jisung was still concerned, but he didn’t voice his oppositions, and I was already overtaken by a peculiar insistence as I quietly followed Johnny’s footsteps into the empty hallways.

It wasn’t difficult to find Johnny - almost like he was expecting to see me around the corner, and I discovered him sitting on one of the benches against the walls. His smile was bright as he nodded towards the empty spot next to him. “Were you looking for me, Y/N?”

I paused for a second as the room swam into focus, but I couldn’t resist the pull directing me towards him, stumbling over my feet as I sat next to Johnny on the bench. “Why did you leave?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explained, pulling me closer with a chuckle. “This is nice, don’t you think? We can act civil around one another, Y/N.”

“I'm always civil,” I told him, and it felt like my words no longer belonged to my consciousness, but to an outside force that has suddenly infiltrated my thoughts and taken command.

“I was wondering how Mark’s love potion would work,” Johnny continued, sighing when I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Word of advice: you shouldn’t ask Mark to keep secrets. But it was actually Haechan who suggested that we turn this around against you.”

“I don’t care,” I whined, fighting to get even closer to him. Because it felt like the space between us, however minimal, was still eclipsing. And Johnny hardly opposed my advances, stretching out one of his arms to wrap around my shoulders in a rather weak attempt to discourage my advances.

“This is how you should always treat me, Y/N,” Johnny remarked, and he was more than receptive to my touches. He didn’t seem to mind that I had practically wrapped myself around him like an octopus, inhaling the heavy scent of his cologne.

“Of course I should,” I replied, giggling when Johnny reached out to curl his fingers around my waist before dragging me into his lap. “This is nice,” I remarked, securing my arms around his neck.

“Oh?” Johnny questioned. “Do you like being close to me?”

I nodded, tracing my fingertips delicately against the well-defined line of his mandible. “You smell good.”

Johnny laughed, and I didn’t quite understand why the compliment was funny, but it was also nice to hear him sound so happy. “I guess the potion was stronger than what Mark told my cousin.” Johnny smirked, leaning in closer. “Do you want to know what the best part is? You won’t remember any of this.”

I frowned, wondering why he was talking like this when I was being so forthcoming with my feelings. “I really like you, Johnny,” I tried again.

“I wish you did,” Johnny said, and there was strange sadness to his tone that I didn’t appreciate. But maybe it was because he was still talking, and I could think of a million better things that we could do with our time. Which is why, when he attempted to open his mouth again, I didn’t allow Johnny to say anything else before I was kissing him, bunching the front of his robes between my hands as I held him closer to me like an anchor. 

It was like time had come to a stand-still, and, at first, Johnny was frozen in place, like he was too shocked to return my feverish kisses. “Johnny,” I whispered again, trying to slide my tongue between the tight purse of his lips.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Johnny gasped, pulling back just enough to look at me. “What the hell was that?”

“I’m trying to show you,” I said, lunging for him again. “You won’t believe what I’m saying, so I have to prove it to you.”

Johnny shook his head, but he was much less opposed the second time I tried to kiss him. And even though he made an effort to force me away from him, his hesitant pushes against my shoulders eventually exchanged themselves for an impossible hold, wrapping one arm around my waist to pull me tight to his front. 

“Fuck, this is good,” Johnny groaned, and we exchanged heavy breaths as he returned my affection with aggressive touches that managed to steal every last reserve of oxygen that remained inside my lungs.

“Let’s go back to your dorm,” I suggested, deciding that Johnny was finally right where I wanted him.

However, I was completely unprepared for him to abruptly jerk his head back, shoving me off his lap until I was sprawled out across the bench on my back. “That was too far,” Johnny said, drawing a trembling hand through his hair while I pouted back at him. 

“Don’t you want this?” I asked, reaching for him again, but Johnny sternly returned my hand before rising from the bench.

“Yeah, but I can’t do this to you,” he said, and there was something defeatist about his expression. “This was a stupid idea.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, desperate to regain his attention.

“Come on,” Johnny said. “I’ll take you back to your room.”

“Johnny!” I protested, but he rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand, pulling me along behind him as we started for the moving staircases. 

“I’m a total idiot for this,” Johnny said, and he appeared nothing short of conflicted. “You were the one who tried to give me the potion!”

“I would never do that!” I gasped, and Johnny shook his head.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Johnny remarked. “You’re not in control of your actions, and as much as I’d love to get back at you for this whole thing, I’m actually a much bigger gentleman than you give me credit for.”

“I know that, silly,” I said, holding tighter to Johnny’s hand as I swung our arms together. “That’s part of the reason why I like you.”

“You don’t really mean that, Y/N,” Johnny said bitterly, and there was a long silence between us until I realized that we were close to the Hufflepuff dorm. 

“Johnny?” I eventually questioned when we paused outside of the entrance.

“I know you don’t like me,” he repeated with a much firmer tone, like he was trying to convince himself, and he quickly pressed one finger to my lips before I could try to counter him. “When Haechan told me about your plan to give me the potion, I wanted to embarrass you. Because I know that’s what you planned to do to me! But I guess there was another part of me that maybe wanted to take advantage of the situation...”

Johnny trailed off, clearing his throat anxiously as he knocked on door, summoning the portrait of Helga Hufflepuff who scrutinzed the two of us with narrowed eyes. “Password?” the painting requested, and Johnny looked back at me.

“Winter Blizzard,” I replied, and Johnny wordlessly led us both inside, walking up the stairs leading to the girl’s portion of the dormitory.

“This isn’t what I had planned,” Johnny said. “Which room is yours?”

I pointed to the door, and Johnny cautiously opened it just enough to look inside before letting out a sigh of relief. “My roommates are probably still at dinner,” I said.

Johnny nodded, swinging the door open even wider, drawing me closer inside. “I’d say that you owe me, but you won’t remember this, and I’m pretty sure that you’d kick my ass if you were in your right mind.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, squealing when I jumped on top of my bed, looking back at Johnny with a bright grin. “Tonight was really fun.”

Johnny scoffed at my comment, but there was a strange glimmer of affection in his dark gaze. “As long as someone enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t?” I asked, giving him my best pout while reaching out for his hand which Johnny reluctantly allowed.

He was quiet for a moment, studying the way I gently ran my thumbs across the smooth skin of his palm. “Yeah,” he conceded. “I liked it.”

“Good,” I said, falling back against my pillows after releasing his hand. “Are we going to meet again like this? When should we tell the others?”

Johnny smiled, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor before addressing my questions. "You’re lucky that I like you, Y/N,” Johnny said. “But let’s keep this a secret between us, okay?”

I nodded obediently, and Johnny chuckled before leaving me alone in the solitude of the dormitory.

The next morning, I woke-up early with one of the worst headaches that I had experienced in a long time. It was practically splitting my skull, and I groaned as my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Everything was hurting, and I carefully made my way to the bathroom before any of my roommates noticed my unexpected dilemma. 

What happened last night? I wondered, looking at my pale reflection in the mirror, cupping my hands below the water and splashing it against my face.

“Hey, Y/N,” Lisa said, joining me next to the sink. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head and sending tiny droplets of water onto the counter-top. 

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but I also had very few intentions of telling my roommate that I couldn’t remember anything that had happened to me the night before. And I studied her from the corner of my eye, watching as she messed with her hair while wearing a look of complete concentration. I resisted the urge to groan, and I left the bathroom in a rush to finish getting ready in time for breakfast.

Of course, despite my repeated reassurances that the headache would eventually pass, it haunted me for most of the morning, following me all the way to the Great Hall. Graciously, the sight of Jisung managed to bring some solace to the chaos, and I sat down next to my step-brother with my best attempt at a smile. “Guess what?” he asked, leaning in closer so that I could hear him over everyone else.

“Hmmm?” I asked, sighing in relief after taking a drink of the pumpkin juice that I usually barely tolerated.

“Jaehyun said that he was gonna let Chenle and I help with the Quidditch team this year!”

“Oh?” I grimaced because Jisung’s high-pitched squeal did no favors for my suffering head.

“I guess we’re, like, assistants or something,” Jisung continued, taking a bite of food before widening his eyes as if remembering something. “Where were you last night?” Jisung asked.

It was a simple question, but he didn’t need to know how frustrated I felt because I couldn’t remember anything past dinner. “I don’t know,” I told him truthfully. “I can’t remember anything after I left the Great Hall.”

Jisung frowned. “Maybe you drank too much of the wine.”

“What?”

“Haechan let you drink that stuff he stole from Hogsmeade,” Jisung elaborated. “Maybe it was too strong.”

I turned my head to the side to locate Haechan at the Slytherin table, laughing next to Johnny and his friends without a single care in the world. It would be easy to accept Jisung’s explanation - to write off my condition as nothing more than a careless hangover. “But I didn’t even drink that much,” I murmured.

It was all I could think about, and I tracked Haechan’s movements once he left the Great Hall. Because I was determined to get to the bottom of things, and it would start with the second-year student who seemed all too pleased with himself after sitting next to his cousin. But first, I had to deal with my classes while struggling with my pounding headache.

Unfortunately, no matter what I did, the condition persisted through the day, and I dreaded having to endure Johnny Seo during potions even more than usual. “You seem different,” Jungwoo said, politely walking with me to my potions class. 

“Really?” I asked, surprised hat Jungwoo had mentioned anything. “I’ve just had a headache all morning.”

“You know,” Jungwoo said, pausing outside of my classroom. “I don’t think anyone would fault you for missing classes.”

“They’re too important,” I said. “And I don’t feel that bad.”

Jungwoo nodded, even though I could tell that he didn’t believe me. “If you’re sure...”

“I’ll be okay,” I said, offering him a smile. “But thank you, Jungwoo.”

“Well, Jaehyun would be pissed if I didn’t ask,” Jungwoo said, laughing like it wasn’t completely unexpected.

But he was gone before I could question him, and I decided that I didn’t have the mental capacity to think about the implications of his statement. Instead, I hesitantly walked into the potions classroom, groaning when I realized that Johnny was already waiting for me at our usual table. His smile was especially wide, patting the chair next to him. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” Johnny said, and there was an upbeat signature to his tone that made me feel immediately on edge.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared at him.

“No reason,” Johnny chirped, looking at me with curious eyes. “You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. 

“Seriously,” Johnny said, and his smile was gone as he studied me. “Are you sick?”

“I’m not sick,” I said, reaching for my notebook. “I just have a headache.”

“Really?” Johnny asked, and I found myself hesitating when his gaze lingered on my lips.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said, forcing my attention back to the front of the room. “Why are you so interested? It’s not like you care.”

Professor Zhang entered the room at that moment with a sharp command for everyone to prepare their cauldrons. I sighed as I reached for mine, dragging it closer while I noticed that Johnny had yet to react to the simple directive. In fact, Johnny was wearing a fierce scowl, and I’m sure that the rest of our classmates were just as shocked to see Johnny stand up in the middle of class before walking out the door without another word.