#left them off for the sake of not having this post be a million miles long but. anko and kurenai fillers my beloved.....gasp choke wheeze

[mynameismisty]

JUST THE SMALL THINGS| RAIDEN X PRINCESS!READER

☆SUMMARY: All he wanted was to be with you, but that isn't so easy with the fact you were royalty. But you'd make it out right? Right?

☆ORIGIN: honestly i just said "fuck it lets play a taylor swift song and write about it", shuffled the playlist and had love story play first so LMAO

☆ADDED: Honestly idc if its shit i just needed to project my idea on something😭

☆"I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run. You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess."☆

You came from royalty, just a small kingdom near Outworld. Yet, being from a small kingdom, you were still known amongst Outworlders, practically being able to recognize you everywhere you go.

You still remember when Liu Kang called you to the Temple to help train his students, and that's where you met Raiden. Something just clicked between you two, you guys had chemistry, and Liu Kang gave knowing looks at you but you just shrugged them off. Besides, you were just helping train them right?

But you felt a pang of sadness when the day came to an end and you had to be escorted back to your palace.

You also remembered when he chased after your carriage, yelling.

"Wait! Ms. Y/L/N!"

"Stop the carriage!" You said as you turned a light shade of pink when you peeked through the door of it. "Yes, Raiden?" You said, trying to look unbothered, even thought your heart was racing a million miles per second.

"I- I never got a way to communicate with you. May I have the opportunity to write to you by any chance, your Highness?" He asked subtly, giving a small smile with worried eyes.

You stared at him for a minute before giving a short smile.

"You may. And-" You hesitated. "And you can call me Y/N instead. I prefer it rather than my last name." And you gave him a piece of paper with your location, plus your number.

"I...I have to go now Raiden. If I do ever have the time to help train you at the temple, I will. See you around, I suppose?" You gave a chuckle and waved goodbye to him.

"Thank you, your Highness. I'll write to you as soon as I can." He smiled at you dreamily and waved goodbye as your carriage left the temple. Your soft chuckle seemed to echo through the walls of his head as he watched you get further and further away.

Your parents, as king and queen were strict about their only daughter. And you needed to write to Liu Kang to help ask for permission to help train at the temple. Fortunately, your parents gave in and allowed you to go. With simply just giving you a curfew and their basic rules of "no boys or boyfriends". Which you hated alot, I mean, you were in an arranged marriage alright, but that doesn't mean you had to be stripped away from fun.

"Really? A curfew? I'm past eighteen, mother! I should be able to make my own decisions!"

"And mess up our chance with the other Kingdom? You are going to be married to the prince of the neighbouring Kingdom and yet you want to act like a wild party animal?"

"Mother, I'm not acting like that! I'm only leaving for the Shaolin Temple, for god's sake!"

After this small argument, your mother decided to take back allowing you to go and made you stay in your room.

And you did so, slamming the door as loud as you could as you heard your father shooing Liu Kang away.

You were annoyed. Pissed to say the least. I mean you were stuck here and you wouldn't be able to see the cute boy that you liked maybe a little too much.

You refused to be stuck inside there and did what any normal girl would do.

Sneak out.

And sneak out you did, you had rope you kept in your drawer and tossed it out your window, tying it to your bed post and climbing down.

You ran, you ran so fast you felt like you were about to lose your breath and fall. But needless to say you made it and climbed over the wall, giving a smile of triumph after managing to get out without getting seen.

Liu kang was suprised to even see you at the Temple.

"Y/N? Why are you here? You should be stuck at the palace right now." He said, giving a genuine, but very confused smile.

"I.. persuaded them to let me come." You lied between a tight smile. "I managed to change their mind. Again."

So he just smiled back and gave you a small hug.

"Come then, the boys already left, as I let them have a day off but you are free to have tea here."

You looked sad and sighed. Oh wait, but was he here?

"Is...well, you know, here?"

Liu Kang suddenly seemed to realize why you were so persistent on coming.

"This small crush seems quite funny to me, you have your hand in marriage yet you don't seem inlove with him. And to answer your question, Y/N, I think he left to-"

"Oh! Who left?" You heard a very familiar voice say. "Y/N! I mean- Your Highness! You came." He came up to you, and he was shirtless, with droplets of sweat coming from his very very formed chest.

"Yeah, yeah." You said cluelessly as you stared at his chest. It looked like it was carved by the Elder gods specifically just for you. "Yeah- I was- I was wondering when you were going to write."

"I was about to after seeing that you weren't coming but I mean, hey I see you did come."

You stared at him and he stared at you. And both of you just started staring into eachothers eyes, trying to read any feelings inside them.

"I'll leave you two then." Liu Kang said, as he gave a small nod accompanied by a smile and walked away.

"Well then...uhm..do you wanna eat out somewhere after this?" He asked shyly, turning a slight shade of pink after asking.

"Yes! Shall we go to Madam Bo's?" You say excitedly.

"Madam Bo's? I thought as a princess from another Kingdom you wouldn't have heard of that place."

"Are you kidding me? I love that place! My parents got it delivered to our palace doorstep when I was a kid...actually I think you were the little boy I always saw with Madam Bo." You said, then suddenly realized something. "Did you always have that hat?" You pointed to the hat he held in his hands. "If you did then I'm sure you're the little boy I always saw as a kid then."

"Wow." was all Raiden managed to say. "To figure, back then I think I did always go to that specific palace atleast...3 times a week."

You smiled at him as he gave a small laugh.

"Well wow, I can't believe we already knew of eachother before meeting." He said.

Both of you were silent for a while before he spoke up.

"So Madam Bo's?" Raiden said as he put his shirt on and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

"Of course!" You tucked your hair behind your ear and mentally thanked yourself you wore something that wasn't flashy to not grab too much attention.

He finished up and stuck his arm out for you to hold.

"Such a gentleman for me." You laughed and linked your arm through his as you left the temple.

Liu Kang watched as you both walked off, laughing, arms linked and gave a knowing smile.

He knew you two would find eachother again.

Just like in any other timeline.

DO I MAKE A PART TWO OR SOMETHING

[glitteratti]

Is there a correct way to watch Naruto?

just in order is fine for naruto! it mostly just comes down to how much filler you're willing to put up with, since the anime has just an INSANE amount of filler episodes. i watched all of them out of sheer stubbornness but they can get really annoying after a while -.-

there are some really good filler arcs though! if you choose to skip the fillers i do still recommend going along and just looking some of them up on the wiki, because some of them give more focus to background characters or are just really silly and fun! some shippuden arcs i highly recommend watching for the sake of fleshing out the story a bit more ARE

57-71 - fleshes out a background character's history and goes really well with the arc that comes after it

91-112 - probably one of my favorite arcs! it introduces a really cool jutsu and some new characters who i just LOVE. really really sweet relationships in this one too guren, yukimaru, and gozu deserve the WORLD

144-151 - fleshes out an incredibly minor background character, but i think it adds a lot to the story! i also just like this background character a lot so i AM biased here

347-348 - just adds on to the arc that it follows in a way i really liked

349-361 - if you like kakashi this arc is GREAT. it goes into his backstory and time on anbu, as well as the backstory for yamato, who shows up a lot in shippuden

432-450 - i just think it's neat! this one is explicitly an alternate universe from canon where a LOT of things are different and a lot of dead characters are still alive. it's an interesting look into how things could have gone, but doesn't have any impact on the story as a whole

464-468 - i NEED to plug this one because it provides background for my all time favorite character. it makes her feel a lot less one dimensional and just gives some of the later lore feel like it wasn't added last minute, but feel free to skip if you want because i am purely including this for selfish reasons of loving kaguya too much

and for GOOFY filler episodes that are just insanely dumb and delightful, part 1 episodes 101 and 185, and shippuden eps 181, 183, 185, 189, 191, 194, 230, 241, 376-377, and 469 are GREAT. purely stupid fun times

if you don't want to see people get shoved into loveless heterosexual marriages, stop after episode 479. i watched everything right up until the end and did enjoy it, but 479 is honestly a really good stopping point and nothing past that really adds much, although 494-500 do have some genuinely sweet and funny moments!

as i said before though there are a LOT of fillers that focus on background characters, so if you find yourself liking someone a lot just glance over the wiki pages for the filler episodes/arcs and you'll probably find something!

ANYWAY this post got a lot longer than i meant for it to vbksbsaf. this is all completely hypothetical and i maintain that the best way to watch naruto is to not watch it at all <3

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 172

Did not mean to prank everyone a couple days ago... I actually had time to queue the chapter and accidentally hit “Post”. I deleted it immediately, so here’s hoping it didn’t spoiled *facepalm*.

Let’s try this again... @tezzrahlah, I did not realize you were in Indonesia!  I hope you and your family are doing well and staying safe.

Huge thanks to @baelpenrose and @quantumizedinsanity for awesome beta work and asking the tough questions and poking the big holes. It’s always a huge help.

Reader shout outs this week go to @breathingintheash, it hurt me, too, I promise. And to @wk-a-a-jaeger, I hope you’re enjoying the story so far!

Hnnghhh. My head was pounding when I woke up. I tried to open my eyes, but immediately slammed them shut again. Maverick must have left the light on again, I thought groggily.

Now my head just hurt even worse.  When I tried to reach up to shield my eyes, my arms were so heavy I couldn’t even lift them.  I couldn’t even roll over, really - everything felt heavy and sore.

“Mav?” I rasped, voice hoarse from what felt like snoring all night. Was I sick? I didn’t remember being sick, but I was sore all over and freezing, like I had the flu.

“I’m right here. So’s Conor.” His voice was off to my left, and I tried to reach for him before remembering my arms weren’t cooperating.

“Can you turn off the light?” Clearing my throat did nothing to make it feel better.  A straw did touch my mouth, however, and I drank as much water as I could before it was pulled away. “Thank you… It’s so bright… Have I been sick?”

“You are in the medbay, yes,” Conor’s voice answered as the light seemed to dim just past my eyelids.

Carefully, I cracked one eye open to test the light before prying both of them far enough that I could see.  Three blurry faces stared down at me: the two familiar blurs of Conor and Maverick, and a third one that startled me. “Who else is here?” I demanded.  I think I demanded it - my voice still sounded a million miles away.

“It’s Simon,” the attached voice answered. “You’re in the medbay, and you have been for about three days.”

I opened my mouth to demand and explanation, but something vaguely hand-shaped filled my vision.

“Yes, three days, don’t interrupt,” Simon continued. “You’ve spoken more than enough, I think.” I must have looked confused, because the hand disappeared but the voice did not. “Do you remember why you’re here, Sophia?”

I paused to make sure he was done before I answered. “I don’t even remember coming here,” I confessed.

A warm hand wrapped around mine, and the calluses covering the palm told me it was Conor. “Love, you… You had a mental break, we think.”

“Did I hurt anyone?” Panic rushed through me as I tried to sit up and remember what happened at the same time. The fact that I couldn’t pull my feet underneath me, much less use my arms to push myself up, did absolutely nothing to help.

Conor rubbed one thumb over the back of my hand while Maverick moved around him to gently press me back into a prone position. “You’re restrained, Soph,” Maverick told me. “You attacked Noah.”

“I did wha - “ Horror silenced me when the memories flooded past the last fog of sedative. Oh god, I thought.  Every moment was sharp as glass in my mind: walking down the corridor, trying to distract them from realizing what I was trying to find out…

Shoving them into an empty room just off the corridor…

So. Much. Screaming.  No wonder my throat hurt.  My heart hurt almost as much, now that I could remember what I had done.

“Eyeah,” Simon bit off. “The restraints are a standard precaution for a mental break. The sonic dampener around you… not quite as much, but it’s for Miys’ sake.”

My left wrist moved about half an inch before it wouldn’t lift any further. “I don’t remember Tyche being restrained when she screamed at Miys,” I murmured.

“She, ah… She was screaming at me and at Arantxa,” Simon clarified sheepishly. “And she was in full control of herself in the process.  Even so, she was restrained for her own safety for a while before you woke up after Arantxa attacked you.”

“You just woke up after she recovered,” Conor confirmed hoarsely.

I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t want to think about it either, honestly.

“I’m here…” Simon paused and cleared his throat. “I’m here on behalf of Miys to ask some questions.  Understandably, they did not want to send an avatar and instead sent me as a representative.”

“Am…How much trouble am I in?” I asked, confused. I mean, I screamed at Noah. Lots of people on the Ark scream, for good reasons and bad ones. Hell, every Food Festival had absurdly loud music.

“That’s why I’m here,” he assured me. “Both to represent Miys, and to provide impartial perspective.  It’s essential that you think back before you answer the questions that I am about to ask you. Bear in mind that recordings of your vitals at the time can be retrieved to help determine if you are telling the truth or not, is that understood?”

“Do I need an attorney? I feel like I should have an attorney present…” Would Xiomara even assist me? She was on the Council, she probably needed to maintain some kind of neutrality - 

“Mona Karim is monitoring our session, and has volunteered to act as your advising counsel.”

Mona’s a lawyer? Anxiety dipped with this revelation; she and I were only passing acquaintances, but I knew her to be fair and remembered the scene in the mess hall with Rachel.  She had soothed the panicking woman during what looked to be a PTSD episode brought on by the systems stress test.  While it did not speak to her abilities as a lawyer, it said volumes about who she was as a person.

I must have zoned out, because Simon spoke again. “Sophia, are you ready?”

“I - I think so.” My voice was shaking, and I had an iron hold on what felt like Conor’s hand, while Maverick gently squeezed my shoulder.

To his credit, Simon didn’t look any better. With a deep breath and a couple nods to himself, he started reading off of a script, not even trying to hide it. “These questions will be focused around the attack by Human Councilor Sophia Reid, hereafter referred to as ‘you’ against Hujylsogox hive Miys pod gamma root seven, hereafter referred to as ‘Noah’. The attack itself, on request of legal counsel and with agreement of Hujylsogox hive Miys, will be referred to as ‘the incident’. These questions are only for the purposes of gathering information and do not constitute a confession of guilt or argument of innocence. Please confirm that you understand.”

“I understand.” Simple enough: I was ‘you’, Noah was ‘Noah’, what happened was ‘the incident’.

With one more deep breath, Simon began. “Were you aware at the time of the incident that your actions were causing harm?”

“Only vaguely,” I admitted. “I was aware that I was causing Noah discomfort, but in the same way that loud noises and screaming would cause a human discomfort. I did not know that I was causing any sort of physical damage if such occurred.”

“Did you continue your actions with the intent of causing harm?”

“No, not directly. Like I said, I wasn’t even aware that I was causing anything beyond discomfort, so I wasn’t able to even conceive of the idea of intentionally causing harm with my actions.”

“What were your intentions at the time of the incident?”

Arthur and Charly are going to wring my neck…. “I wanted a direct, clear answer regarding why Miys has been treating us differently since we got to this part of the Galaxy,” I confessed, frustrated.  “I tried asking several times, but they would not give a clear answer or even tell me they weren’t allowed to answer me.  I was frustrated and angry, especially because people got hurt - Conor and Maverick, Xiomara, Charly got hurt - as a result of the change in Miys’ behavior.“ I had to calm myself before continuing. “If Noah had even so much as told me why they weren’t allowed to answer my question, I would have accepted that as a definitive answer, and dropped it.”

“You passed several avatars immediately prior to the incident and seemed to target the specific one defined by humans as ‘Noah’. Why did you choose that particular avatar?”

This one honestly should have been obvious. My fondness for Noah was not new information. “They are the one I am most familiar and comfortable with, since that is the first avatar I saw when I woke up on the Ark. My hope was that, through that feeling of familiarity, I would be able to get some sort of definitive answer.” I wanted to add ‘not like it worked’ on the end of that statement, but it felt even more unnecessary than the question itself had been.

“Did you take any direct action that would prohibit the avatar from removing themselves from the situation at the time of the incident?”

A snort of derision erupted from me before I could stop myself, but I forced myself to think back to what happened, to really focus on my actions at the time. Finally, I was confident in my answer. “No. Noah is twice my size, at least, and demonstrably capable of restraining me without harm. Noah could have left the situation at any time. In fact, other than when I ‘pushed’ Noah into the room,” I made air quotes to emphasize that even that had required some level of cooperation from Noah, “I didn’t touch them.”

“To the best of your recollection, what devices were you using at the time of the incident?”

“None? What?” Devices? “None. The translator implant, that was it. Maybe the door? But it wasn’t locked or anything, I was just standing in front of it.”

Simon nodded with relief at my answer, then gave me a pointed look. “Were there any items on your person at the time that could have been used to harm Noah, even if you did not use them?”

“No,” I ventured slowly, narrowing my eyes at him but playing along. “I keep my kitchen knives in my kitchen and my other knives locked away in the gymnasium. I don’t carry either around the ship, as a safety precaution. Since I had planned to meet with Noah that day, I was careful not to eat any spicy food that morning, because I’ve accidentally caused some surface irritation by speaking with Noah too soon after eating in the past. Even when I’ve been angry with Miys recently, I still take care to warn them if I will be handling any substances that can cause a reaction with their skin, and where I will be, so they can avoid the area.”

It was only as I finished my statement that I realized why Simon had given me that look. He was making sure that I established the lengths I go to in order to avoid accidentally harming Noah, to emphasize the harm I - or any human on the Ark - could have caused by accident, without any malicious intent. And that I had taken great pains to avoid even that.

“Questioning concluded,” he pronounced carefully, as though completing some requirement of the session. Immediately, stress dropped from his shoulders and his entire posture relaxed into an impossibly-balanced slouch. “So, Sophia, any questions?”

“I think you’ve asked plenty,” I grumbled before immediately apologizing. “I know you don’t want to do this, Simon. You didn’t deserve me being snarky.”

“There aren’t exactly a lot of options on the Ark for intermediaries between humans and Miys,” he waved me off as he fell into the chair on my other side from Conor and Maverick. “I’m kind of the only option, aside from you being confined to quarters until the Eko-mari arrive and letting them handle it.  Which puts us back at square one, since you - the Council, I mean - were already trying to figure out what to do with them.”

“And I only added to the problems,” I sighed, dropping back on to the berth. At some point, the top portion had been raised into a reclining position, so I was at least able to still look at everyone. “Let’s get the down and dirty over with: How much trouble am I in?”

“From the Miys’ end? Not much, honestly.” When my eyes flew wide, he shrugged again. “Hujylsogox are largely used for crises and refugee transport, so this kind of thing happens sometimes. You’re basically going to be grounded, from their end.  Baseline rations for food and water, including rationed bathing water. Limited access to anything above baseline amenities, access to weapons will be restricted, all that stuff.”

“I feel like a puppy who peed on the carpet.”

“On the upside, the guys won’t be punished along with you. The restrictions only apply to you, although they are eligible for censorship if they help you violate the terms of your - probation, for lack of a better term.”

“No sneaking me treats, got it.” I gave both of them a serious stare. The last thing I needed was Maverick being put on basic nutrient rations after we’d spent several years of therapy trying to get his relationship with food on a healthier footing. “What about on the human end?”

“Tee Bee Dee,” he admitted. “There haven’t been many incidents on the Ark of person-on-person violence that required Council intervention.  Usually, the parties have pretty much resolved things themselves, with the Council sometimes needing to step in to resolve the underlying issue - arguments over when it’s appropriate to cook certain foods if your neighbor is trying to sleep, where you should practice your religious observances at the top of your lungs when people are working, that sort of thing.”

“Fun…”

“I can tell you that it seems like the Council is leaning toward the probation sentence, since Miys is satisfied with that. Maybe some additional restrictions.  They’re still deciding what to do about your Council seat, though.”

I tried to stifle the hope that bloomed in my heart. “I could - “

“You can’t resign,” Simon interrupted. “Xiomara, Huynh, and Pranav saw that coming from a mile away and made the point to argue - successfully - that voluntary resignation from the Council wouldn’t be a punishment for you.  That’s kind of what makes the whole situation so complicated: keeping you on the Council would potentially set a bad precedent by allowing you to keep your status, but removing you would practically be rewarding your behavior.”

Oops. Not only had I been headed off at the pass on that one, apparently I was making an even bigger mess. “Suggestion withdrawn.”

Simon smiled and patted my shoulder. “They’ll think of something suitable. You probably won’t like it, but that’s kind of the point. And Mona’s clever - she’ll definitely help them figure it out.”

“And until then?” I asked hopefully. Being restrained to a medical berth was the exact opposite of fun.

“You’ll stay here while they deliberate.” Well, there went all the hopes and dreams of the little children… “Hannah and Parvati are sharing interim Councilor duties while everything is being decided.  It shouldn’t take too long, however.  I know they want everything decided before the Eko-mari fleet arrives.”

I did the best mental calculation I could. “Ten days?”

“Fifteen,” Maverick corrected gently. “The fleet has been delayed for rendezvous, but even without that, we had thirteen days.”

Still, fifteen days did not feel like enough time to figure out what to do with the pirates. I had picked the worst time to sideline myself from the Council, but I still had one hope: our designated negotiator for working with the pirates.

If anyone could launch a successful charm offensive against a ship full of aliens, it was Charly.

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[cdroloisms]

more of the mutually assured destruction duo, post-prison this time! this one was really fun, thinking about what this dynamic might be like in the future gives me SO much brainrot, im so excited. this one’s also a little dark, so make sure to read the warnings + tags !! :D 

tw: implied prison abuse, starvation, toxic relationship, touch starvation, manipulation, panic attack, trauma, blood, injury

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison.

And it's ironic, because Wilbur hasn't even been around, has been in hell for fuck's sake playing Competitive Solitaire for nine-odd years, but even he could've seen the self-destruction hanging like a cloud around the other's head from a million miles (and several months? years?) away. Perhaps, he thinks wryly, you can only see the signs when you've lived them, or maybe red flags don't raise alarm when you’ve painted the entire figure in blood, but it doesn't really matter, in the end, because the final result is the same.

Still, it's just a little funny when he's stopped in the middle of his journey through the Nether, not a piece of armor on him per usual and an unused netherite sword slung over his hip.

"Hello, Sapnap." The kid is standing in front of him, eyes gleaming in badly-hidden anger and desperation, smoke rising from the mottled red-black skin on his hands. "Fancy seeing you around."

"You-" Sapnap sputters, unable to speak as his face flushes red in frustration, and Wilbur smiles at him condescendingly. The expression on the other's face is one he's seen before - one Tommy had been particularly inclined to give him in the past, when his emotions raged so heavily that there was nothing for the pressure to do but build, too thick and heavy to force themselves out of his throat. "You're monsters," Sapnap manages, finally, and Wilbur quirks an eyebrow.

At least we're self-aware, he thinks, the all-too-familiar twinge of irritation at Tommy's - and apparently, Sapnap's particular brand of reckless naivety pulsing at the base of his skull. He lets none of these thoughts show on his face as he cocks his head to the side, smiles wider - and Sapnap, just like Tommy, takes the bait.

'Why are you smiling?" He looks achingly young - they all do, really, their expressions and reactions dripping with a sort of innocence and sincerity that dissolved from Wilbur's own face somewhere around the fifteen-hundreth game of poker, and it really does feel ironic, how quickly the outside world can fall apart compared to the unending constancy of the void - but he digresses.

He didn't know Sapnap well before his whole death thing, and as much as he wants to use his partner to get information on the other members of the server, he doesn't really think Dream is really even lucid enough for that - the man clearly hasn't been thinking clearly, not for a long time. It doesn't matter, though, because you learn to read people when your life becomes nothing but running the same broken-edged memories over and over again in your mind and smiling jaggedly over the same few card games - Wilbur had always been a people watcher, and Sapnap's feelings are stamped on every corner of his face.

"Monster, huh," he says, saying the word slowly, rolling it over his tongue like he's tasting it for the first time, watching from the corner of his eye as Sapnap squirms, "Interesting word you've got here. You use it often?"

Sapnap bristles, smoke curling from his nostrils - "It's what you are, dickhead."

Rolling his eyes internally, Wilbur keeps up the act, humming as he fiddles idly with his cufflink. "I mean, if you really believe that," he rocks forward on his right foot, stifling a smile at the way the younger draws back, "But really, it's all a matter of perspective." He twists himself around, pivoting around his heel, beginning to walk in an arc around Sapnap's left side, watching as he spins around, shoulders drawn up to his ears. "What do you think?"

"I think that you're full of shit," he says, voice flat, and Wilbur laughs. It's genuine, really, because well - Sapnap's different. He's fun; the entire server is, after so long in the void. You can only spend so much time with the same two people before they drive you a little up the metaphorical wall, but Sapnap's reactions are fresh and new and different, still saturated with vitality that hasn’t been leached out by the same deck of cards in the same scarred hands shuffled and reshuffled for eternity. He's interesting, and new, and most of all, predictable.

"Say, Sapnap," he continues, blowing over the other's anger, knowing that it'll only make the frustration build more. He lets his hair flop lazily over one eye, lets his smile grow wider, lips pressed together in amusement, turns his face so that it's lit eerily by the lava lake beneath them. "If we're monsters for, I don't know, setting off a few stacks of TNT," he waves his hand flippantly, watching the muscle of the other's jaw jump in poorly-hidden rage, "What does that make you for what you did to Dream?"

Sapnap's eyes go wide, and Wilbur knows he's struck the jackpot. He lets his lips part to reveal bared teeth, jagged and glinting in the light. "I'm sorry, did that hit a nerve?"

The kid's mouth opens- closes- emotions warring on his face, fists curling and uncurling at his sides, lip trembling. "We- we had to-" his hands come to his face, palms digging into his eyes, and while he's not looking, Wilbur draws his expression back a bit, becoming softer, more welcoming. When Sapnap looks back up, his eyes are shining, hands shaking still; he steps forward, then rocks back on his back foot like he doesn't know where to go. "What do you mean?" he throws the words like they're meant to be a threat, but by the end his voice has devolved into something high-pitched and keening, overflowing with desperate grief that Wilbur latches onto like a starving man (ha) with his last meal.

"I'm sorry, it does seem rather insensitive for me to assume," he resumes pacing around the other, voice lilting, soft, "I just mean, it seemed pretty obvious, don't you think? I don't think I've ever seen someone so skinny, really, but I guess that is what happens when you get starved,"

"Shut up-"

"Not to mention the whole panicking thing, I mean, he's like Tommy sometimes with all of the fucking shaky breathing and mumbling around like creepers, not that I'd know what all of that's about," he watches Sapnap through half-hooded eyes, darkly amused, "and pickaxes, oddly enough, but oh well. Who am I to judge?"

"Shut up-"

"And all of the scars - I thought they were from you, honestly, he told me about the whole 'taking his last life' thing, but then he jumped into lava one day - I guess there wasn't much to do in that cell, huh? He didn't even scream, it's really pretty fucking incredible - I thought I'd actually have to break him down a bit, but really, you've made my life so much easier-"

"SHUT UP-"

Wilbur watches with a too-wide grin as Sapnap finally, finally charges, a netherite sword appearing in his hand as he races blindly ahead, tears shining on his cheeks, his words more pain than thought as he brings the blade down-

A blur of purple, the sound of crumbling netherrack and metal meeting metal, flesh hitting flesh - Wilbur moves smoothly out of the way as Sapnap crashes to the ground, an armored figure bearing down an axe against the shield he's raised between them.

Dream, hair tangled and long, wearing armor that is far too heavy for his skinny frame, every inch of him shaking in panic, should hardly be a threat - but this is Sapnap, weakened by Wilbur's sharp words and crippled by the shock of seeing his former best friend's face again, eyes still unfocused from the rage and tears that had clouded over them moments before, so he can do little but raise his shield as the netherite slams into it, again and again. Not a word falls from Dream's lips, but he brings down the weapon at a ruthless pace - ever since he's been free, his attack style has changed greatly from the defensive style he used to favor, even to Wilbur's untrained eye - there's no skill, no art to the way he attacks anymore, just the fearful ferocity of a dog trapped in a cage for far, far too long.

He finally kicks Sapnap down the netherrack cliff that they're on, the other man left to nurse his wounds below them - Wilbur doesn't bother sparing him another thought; Dream's far too weak to cause any permanent damage. Instead, he approaches his partner, weapon, with a smile, watching, satisfied, when he whirls around with a manic expression.

"I'm alright, see?" he croons as Dream's shoulders move up and down with his heaving breaths, eyes fever-bright, teeth bared. He brings a hand down on the other's shoulder and watches as he flinches at the movement, breath hitching, every muscle freezing, knuckles pale on the handle of his axe, before moving again, stumbling forwards, hands reaching for Wilbur's head and stopping halfway. Wilbur tips his head forward, lets the shorter brush his face with trembling fingers, checking his unmarred skin for blood through the purpling bruises already forming on his cheek, and thinks how powerful he is to have a god at his beck and call, a perfect attack dog brought to heel, death itself obediently at his side.

Dream hasn't been the same since he escaped prison, and as Wilbur runs his hand up and down his back, feeling the way his spine arches at the touch, at the fluttering pulse under the skin-and-bone wrist under his fingers, he thinks how fortunate he is to be the first to notice.

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2

[hotchley]

sadness

Right, my laptop is at 12% and I need to cross-post to ao3 and go to sleep because I have one more mock tomorrow, so I’ll try and keep this one short.

My post earlier sparked this. I am now writing a series called “he blinks” which explores how Hotch feels each of the eight core emotions (and probably love, because I am nothing if not a sucker for Hotch and Haley.) Anyways... sadness is first. But it’s more like grief? So... it’s set after 100, and yeah :) There’s no dialogue, and I think this counts as introspection, but I don’t know...

I had more to say, but I can’t remember so... onwards! It’s relatively short, 1272 words, so I hope it’s okay. I’ve not touched most of my WIPs since whenever I last uploaded a fic, and it’s more just me rambling so yeah.. go with it

Trigger Warnings: death, grief, the slightest implication of child abuse (please let me know if I’ve missed anything, but I think this is it)

read on ao3!

Aaron Hotchner’s sadness is quiet.

That’s what Haley’s death teaches the BAU.

Penelope’s sadness is happiness that seems too loud, too much, too forced and perfect to be anything but a terrible attempt at masking something negative. 

JJ’s sadness is socially acceptable: she cries, she accepts the comfort, and then she stitches herself back together before anyone can wonder why one sentence wasn’t able to fix her.

Derek’s sadness is a fierce protectiveness over the people he loves most, because they are the thing that keeps him going and remind him of all the reasons to try his best to cope and move on and deal.

Spencer’s is an unusual thing, that is somehow vulnerable and closed-off in the same moment. He will shed his tears openly, sometimes not even realising that is what he is doing, but he recoils at the slightest glimmer of support.

Emily’s is hidden behind stupid jokes that can’t even raise the corners of her mouth and stories from a childhood that she still can’t quite wrap her head around serve as a coping mechanism, because if she cannot go back to that blissful ignorance then she will remind herself it exists.

Dave’s is an explosive thing that showcases itself as anger and a closed office door. The team always knows when he’s sad. He won’t accept comfort from anyone in the moment, but an unspoken apology is given to everyone in the form of a meal when he’s thinking rationally.

But Aaron’s sadness is quiet and unsuspecting.

The team had never realised that. They’d never been allowed to. 

When Dave recruited him to the team, he was too busy keeping him alive to realise how quiet Aaron could be. 

When Derek joined, Aaron was too busy with keeping him in check and making sure he was safe. 

And when Reid, Garcia and JJ joined, only a few months between each of them, Hotch had been forced to take the reins from Gideon and would not let anyone see him break.

Emily accused him of not being human enough, despite remembering the boy that had worked for her mother and hadn’t quite learnt how to hide the flinch that was reflexive with every slam of a door, and who wore his heart on his sleeve without even realising, so she never saw him break. Until Foyet.

His sadness crept up on them.

They would go hours, sometimes even days, convinced that he was fine. That he was coping, and moving forward, and okay. It was stupid and wishful thinking, they knew that, but they also believed that Hotch was perfect and invincible. 

Reid thought he never blinked. JJ still remembers how he never seemed to lose it.

They would assume he was fine.

And then he wouldn’t smile at something. Or he would, but it would be a shadow of his usual joy and childish excitement. Or it wouldn’t quite reach his eyes, which would remain just as hollow and unfocused and dull as the day of the funeral. Or it would seem to cause him pain to even try.

He would suddenly shove his hands in his pockets. As though he could still feel the blood of Foyet, mixed with his own because Foyet was not and never had been weak, tainting it, despite all the care Derek applied when he wiped them clean. As though he was still in that house, terrified his son would hate him for taking his mother away. As though he couldn’t look at them without seeing the monster he had always known he would eventually become.

Or his voice would soften, just a little too much. His tone would change completely, and the person he was talking to would feel like a child going to the one person that always made them feel safe and seeing someone that could only try to be that good instead. His words would become quieter. Less concise. More calculated. Like he was walking the line between control and destruction.

There would be hesitation. Hotch’s confidence was often a facade, but it was a facade so strong that it even convinced profilers. Morgan had hated it when he first joined, scared his new boss was going to be someone that would stand up and play devil's advocate, but then he had realised the truth: he was just scared of being undermined. Reid had admired it then, and he admired it now. 

He would hesitate, and it would remind them of everything he had lost. He would hesitate with his gun, and Morgan would panic because they had lost Gideon to the job, they couldn’t lose him too. He would hesitate with his pen, and Reid would frown, because Hotch’s reports were used for the trainees as perfect examples, and every word that he wrote himself was modelled after the reports from Hotch he had read after starting.

He would hesitate to touch his son and JJ would weep inside because she knew what it was like to be a child and to have a parent that wasn’t quite whole, knowing that there was nothing you could do to fix the situation because you weren’t the person they wanted.

There would be a slight clearing of his throat before he addressed the team about a case involving mothers, women, children, blondes. He would turn away, and one hand would quickly and furiously wipe at his eyes, before he turned back and acted like he was made of steel.

They would all see him reach for his phone on the harder cases, then freeze and place his hand elsewhere like his pocket was burning him. Dave, Derek, and even JJ would try and mention it, but Aaron always acted like he had no idea what they were talking about. Spencer and Penelope can’t even try and ask how he is before he starts distracting them with some random knowledge about their interests.

Neither genius is oblivious to what he was trying to do. They pretend to be for his sake.

Aaron’s sadness is not the explosion of grief the shows and movies had taught them to prepare for. It is not the beautiful road to healing the poems had caused them to hope for. It is not the simple and painless, cured by a single sleep event the books always make it out to be.

Aaron’s sadness is tired eyes, dark circles, shaking hands. It is sobs stifled at the most random and unplanned time. It is blank stares during conversations and it is slight smiles that expose his brain as being a million miles away. It is the sight of his left hand with a tan line where the ring had been removed two years ago.

It is the team, the family that wants nothing more to fix everything and make him better, having no idea what they are meant to do to help the man that has always held them and cradled them and protected them. It is them feeling like they have made a mistake with every unanswered text. It is the bitter acceptance that all they can do is hold him together until he is ready to take the first step.

It is Aaron Hotchner, not even knowing what he needs anymore and being too afraid to ask for words of assurance and love. It is Aaron Hotchner wearing his wedding ring to feel like a piece of Haley is still real and alive. It is Aaron Hotchner feeling lost and angry and numb and bitter and relieved all at once.

It is all of this. And yet somehow, it is still quiet.

[secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer]

Five Thousand Miles

Warning: Angst, descriptions of covid patients’ suffering, hospitals

A/n: I researched a lot about what covid patients go through in a hospital and their treatments but still took a couple creative liberties so I apologise if the descriptions aren’t accurate. Do tell me how you liked it!

Summary: Y/n tests positive for covid-19 and has to be hospitalised. Her boyfriend, Harry is five thousand miles away from her.

“Harry, I’m scared,” Y/n confessed as she readied herself, struggling with wearing her mask and gloves while also balancing her phone to continue talking to her boyfriend on FaceTime.  

“It’ll be alright, you are taking every precaution you can. Plus, you have to get out of the house sometime, you can’t survive on air alone. Trust me, baby, you can do this.”

Harry’s voice was keeping her grounded, she wanted to continue talking to him but knew it would be impossible to shop and talk to him at the same time, so she nodded at him, “You’re right. Okay, I’ll call you when I get back. Safely.”

Taking a deep breath, she went out the door to a world of germs, people, and newly acquired viruses.

Being in the middle of a pandemic alone wasn’t her favourite situation to be in. It felt better when she had company, people who would help her buy the essentials. As soon as situations eased up a bit, her quarantine partners left New York to be with their families. She was all alone now.  

Looking at all the empty streets, Y/n was left with a weird sensation. The city that never slept had never been quieter. She was so used to being woken up by car horns and car alarms in the morning that during the first few weeks of lockdown, she found it hard to wake before noon. This quiet was almost poetic, like the stuff of post-apocalyptic films. Y/n wasn’t sure if the silence comforted her or terrified her.

There were more people in the store than she had expected, though all in their masks, she breathed in relief. She went straight to the personal hygiene section, remembering the most important item on her list, only to find that the store was all out of toilet papers, the one thing films didn’t guess would be a big problem. She rolled her eyes at the selfish people who had panic-bought more stuff than they would have needed.

She tried every store near her neighbourhood, and eventually was able to get the last set in the final shop she visited. Tired from driving all over the city in search of toilet papers, she went to the check-out line to finally buy her stuff. 

Standing in her place, Y/n noticed the people in the store, few whose foreheads were furrowed, their eyes darting around making sure they were maintaining the mandated distance from others, panic evident on their mask-covered faces. Some others appeared plain bored. Already used to the new routine and just wanting to get it over with. 

She was so lost her observations, she almost didn’t hear it, the woman behind her in the line coughed loudly, making people jump farther apart than the required six feet.

“It’s just allergies,” the woman announced in a nasal voice, rolling her eyes at people’s reaction. 

As Y/n’s turn came at the check-out counter, she found herself frozen to the ground, she didn’t know why but the cough threw her off. It felt weird to react the way she did, but she could not make herself move. She was nervous. She wanted to laugh at herself for feeling this way because of a measly cough, but it wasn’t so simple and right now all she felt was fear.

“Oh for god’s sake,” the woman moved forward, pushing her aside and placed her items at the counter. Even the employee there seemed wary, but knew he had to comply to keep his job.

It was only after the woman left, was Y/n finally able to move, she shook her head as if to shake the incident away from her mind and finally paid for her items.

She ran all the way home, even though she knew she shouldn’t have. She couldn’t help herself, she just wanted to move away from the public and into the safety of her home as soon as she could. 

As she entered her house, Y/n felt her chest tighten, as though someone was sitting on it, she couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like she was breathing through a squished straw. 

In between her wheezing, she searched around for her inhaler in her side bag. She felt her breath coming back a few seconds after she breathed in the medicine. She fell to her knees in exhaustion and took in a few more breaths to calm down.

She then picked herself up and embarked on an extensive set of tasks- Taking off her gloves and mask, removing her shoes at the entrance of her house, washing her hands. But, this somehow didn’t seem enough to her, so she went ahead and took another shower, just to be extra sure.

While in the shower, she cursed her asthma. It wasn’t usually a big hurdle in her life, but now, everything was a hundred times worse. This was the first time she had feared for her life. Her anxiety was at an all-time high and all she had to keep her sane was her daily FaceTime calls with Harry.

Opening her laptop to do her work, she checked the numbers again- seventy thousand new cases. She sighed and closed her laptop, not having the motivation to do any work. She scrolled through her social media to distract herself only to be shoved more news about the coronavirus, she let out a groan of frustration and switched off her phone, deciding to take a nap instead.

Only she couldn’t sleep. She thought back to all the plans she made with Harry, promising him to be there next to him while he toured the globe. She laughed at the situation and how no one in a million years could have guessed the current world state.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she must have as she woke up with a jolt in her bed after a strange dream. She shook her head and looked out her window to see the sky dark. She switched on her phone, it was 8 pm. She cursed to see three missed calls from Harry and one from her friend, Sarah.

Preparing herself, she called Harry. 

“Where were you, I called like three times?” His voice was deeper than usual, she guessed he had just woken up because of her call. She calculated it to be 4 am in London, where Harry was. She felt bad for waking him up like that.

“I know, I switched off my phone and fell asleep. Sorry,” she grimaced.

Harry hummed in acknowledgement, “how you doing?”

She could hear rustling on the other side and imagined a sleepy Harry sitting up in his bed, his hair messy from his sleep, “Just missing ya’.”

“I know, I hate that I had to leave you like that, wish you could come with me,” there was a hint of a whine in Harry’s voice which made Y/n smile.

“Wish I had a visa for England, I really wanted to come too,” and she meant that. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to be alone.

“I’ll video call you tomorrow, it’s late here, or rather early,” what he was saying next was obscured by his yawn. She sighed, she missed him too much.

“Yeah sure, see you tomorrow, bye.”

“Bye.”

When the call disconnected, she messaged Sarah to ask what the call was about, who didn’t respond. She shrugged her shoulders and went down to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner.

~

It started with a headache. She didn’t ponder much on it and instead only took medicine to curb the pain enough to continue working. 

It was when she felt a certain roughness in her throat, did she pay attention. Her cough worsened within days, she was having a hard time breathing normally. It felt like a less severe but constant asthma attack. She took her temperature, which showed her to be having a fever at 101°F. 

It took her some time to even process what was happening to her, she initially wondered if it could be the flu or something non-covid, but she knew she couldn’t take the chances. Harry was the first person she informed.

“What are you saying?!” Harry was frantic, his forehead creased as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing them up.

“I have a fever, a cough, and I’m having difficulty breathing,” counting the symptoms on her fingers, she informed him again.

“It could be the flu, Y/n you didn’t even go outside. How could it be anything else?”

“H, I did go out to buy supplies, didn’t I? Maybe I got infected there somehow. We shouldn’t be kidding ourselves. I have to at least get tested.” You didn’t want to show him just how scared you were, but it was hard to keep your voice from cracking.

“I am scared, H,” you let the tears out. Your shoulders shook while you tried to wipe your tears as they were leaking from your eyes.

Harry closed his eyes, not being able to see you sobbing, “I know baby, but I know you’ll be strong. I will take the next flight to LA. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He promised, his mouth set in a hard line as a strong look of determination crossed his face.

  She shook her head with as much strength she could muster, “No Harry, you shouldn’t keep travelling, plus, you can’t stay with me and I don’t want you staying at some hotel. It’s not safe.”

“Bu—”

“—I won’t hear another word about it. I have Sarah, and you have your work to take care of. I will be fine.”

She knew Harry wanted to say more, object to her claims, she would not be fine. But he knew it would be of no use, once she had made up her mind, it would be impossible to change it. So, he settled for a low nod.

“Keep me updated, I’ll also talk to Sarah. She better be there for it all. You should now call your doctor, see what’s the next step.”

Y/n nodded, smiling that Harry understood. She didn’t want to trouble him. She also wanted to pretend for a few more seconds that this was not a big deal.

She called Dr Gupta, her heart was beating at an all-time high and her energy was at an all-time low. She barely had enough breath to tell her doctor about her situation who booked an appointment for her to go to the nearest covid testing facility.

She took a deep breath, wore her protective gear and drove to the testing lab which was a ten-minute drive from her place. She was already out of breath by the time she reached the place.

When she was done with her test, she felt worse than she had before. Sarah called to check in on her, but Y/n didn’t have the energy to talk so Sarah video-called her, seeing Y/n’s face would have to be enough for her at that point.

Sarah’s eyes softened, seeing her best friend heaving, eyes shut and groaning due to her chest pain. But she knew, more than anything, her best friend was scared.

“I hope with everything that I am that the test comes back negative,” her voice was tinged with worry and genuine hope.

Y/n could only nod.

The call came two days later, Y/n sat up in her bed, she had been dreading this moment these past days, with Harry and Sarah to distract her.

The test came back positive.

She fell back into her bed, cushioned by her pillow and started shaking uncontrollably as she sobbed.

She felt insanely dehydrated by the time she stopped crying, she didn’t even get to call either of her friends. She stood up with a groan, and following one slow step after the other, she went to the bathroom to wash her now tear-stained face.

The call she made to Harry wasn’t an easy one. She knew he would take the news worse than she had, and her reaction was not a light one.

“I prayed. I promise I prayed Y/n,” his words were almost indecipherable in between his cries. His every tear followed the other with a ferocity never before noticed by Y/n.

Her own tears followed suite, she was so sure she had finished up all her tears, but she was proven wrong. Soon, the only conversation happening between the two was through their sobs.

She wanted to curse all the gods, she didn’t want to go through the pains of having this disease and she didn’t want to do it alone. Even though she had Harry and Sarah standing right beside her, knowing they would not be able to meet her in person, she had never felt more alone.

“I don’t feel good, H,” she confessed. Breathing was becoming difficult day by day, she would rather have an asthma attack twice a day than having this constant pressure on her chest and throat. She knew she had to tell him, “I have to get admitted to the hospital first thing in the morning tomorrow, they say my covid could be worsened because of my asthma,” she let out in between a series of coughs stopping her after every word.

Harry nodded, his heartbeat rising. He cursed himself for leaving his girlfriend alone in the country. If he hadn’t left, she would not be going through this, “I’ll tell Sarah, you go rest,” he promised, seeing it get increasingly difficult for her to even sit up in her bed.

If Y/n was scared before, then the hospital made it thousand times worse. It was a scary sight, the covid ward was in an isolated area of the hospital, the doctors and nurses were in full PPE kits, the patients were lined up next to each other separated by curtains. She passed a room with ICU written on the glass door. With what she could see, she noticed several other patients, some with masks covering their nose, probably providing oxygen. Others seemed in worse conditions, they were intubated via ventilators. 

Seeing them facing the same crisis together, although away from their families, but forming a new family of sorts in solidarity to their conditions gave her little comfort. Those who wore the nasal masks and thus still had the ability to talk were speaking to each other, even reading something from their phones to those who were on ventilators. Covid had seemed like a situation she would have to go through alone, her initial views though were changing.

She was admitted to the regular covid ward, with the rest of the non-critical patients and would be observed overnight. She was assisted with oxygen through a nasal mask, just like the people around her, she had noticed.

“Hey, I’m Cecilia, call me Cece,” a thirty-something woman introduced herself from beside you. The curtain was partially open, allowing Y/n to see only her face.

“Y/n, nice to meet you,” she called back, smiling as much her energy would allow.

“Never guessed this is how I would be spending my lockdown,” she laughed lightly, pointing to her mask. She then followed it up with a cough, groaning with the strain.

Y/n felt bad for her, only to be subjected to the same.

These were going to be some long days. Though she did feel better knowing she would not be facing this alone. She looked around the room, at probably twenty patients around her, in the same situation as her, if not in worse conditions. She then thought back to the people in the ICU and what they must be subjected to.

Her phone brought her attention to itself, it was Harry FaceTiming her; putting on a smile, she picked up the call. 

“Hey handsome,” she suggestively raised her eyebrows, not wanting to worry him any further.

Harry did not even notice her words, he was too busy gawking at her nasal mask, “what is that?” worry coating his voice.

“Oh just my new accessory, you like it?” although Y/n wanted to look nonchalant, the pain in her voice could not be hidden, she sighed, “They are giving me oxygen through this.”

Harry’s eyebrows were knitted together in worry, Y/n wanted to make him feel better. She could not rest knowing her love was out there worrying about her, “Look I made a friend,” she turned the camera to Cece laying next to her six feet apart, “Cece, say hi to my boyfriend, Harry.”

She had forgotten her boyfriend was a big deal but was reminded of it by Cece’s gasp, “Harry freaking Styles ohmigod ohmigod,” Cece squealed, making Y/n forget for a second that she was not a teenager.

“Hullo love,” Harry greeted her in his ‘fan voice’, a smile graced her lips. “Hope you beat covid and get better soon.” Cece’s smile made Y/n realise how long these people had gone without having a reason to smile and how desperately they needed it. 

 Cece’s squeal garnered the attention of the people around them. Noticing the pop icon on the phone screen, conversations started flowing between everybody. Introductions were made, friendships were formed and smiles were passed around, along with Y/n’s phone. So, she asked a nearby nurse if they could access a bigger screen so everyone could see and talk to her boyfriend.

When the staff hooked up a screen, Harry gave all the patients an impromptu concert. Y/n had not smiled in days the way this concert had made her. She expected fear, anxiety, deaths and instead got friends, laughter, and music.

When Harry was done performing for his audience, he gave her a brief look. “I love you,” she whispered to him, smiling when he returned the words.

The next day, she was woken up by the noises around her, she panicked for a moment, not recognising the place she was in; but calmed when she regained her senses and noticed the blue curtains of the hospital, several machines and the people they were attached to. 

She made a short conversation with Cece but had to stop because she was getting out of breath. With every passing moment, her chest pain too was increasing. She did keep listening to people chat around her. Some were on calls with their family, others were busy reading books and listening to music. She kept getting shouts of gratitude from the people in the ward for Harry the previous night.

For the next two days, that kept her going. She learned about her fellow patients, Jonathan was 59 years old, his son was an engineer and he couldn’t have been more proud; Jaya was a 42-year-old woman with bronchitis and wanted to visit Paris at least once in her life. Marc was a 50-year-old diabetic who was in a band in the 80s, they were planning a reunion show. She met countless people, each with their own stories. 

At about 10 am on a Thursday, her situation worsened. The doctors had come for a routine checkup, only to see that her oxygen levels were dropping steadily and she needed immediate assistance.

She was shifted to the ICU ward. She had to be intubated and thus was given a board and marker to write anything if she wanted.

“—Yes sir, she was shifted to the ICU this morning—”

“—We can’t say much right now, but we’ll inform you if anything changes—”

“—Okay, take care, Sir.”

Y/n heard bits and pieces of the conversation her doctor was having with Harry, although since she was on medication, she couldn’t register much of it. The nurses brought her phone to her, a silhouette moving on the screen.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”

Y/n pondered how to describe the immense pain burning through her respiratory passage and the lack of oxygen eating away her lungs and not give him nightmares. So, she offered him a tired thumbs up.

Harry watched his girlfriend cough, her face contorting in pain and could not control his tears, he didn’t want to think about the worst-case scenario but could not stop his mind from going there. He knew how low the chances were of people on ventilators coming back. But he had to remain positive, someone had to. She needed him to be strong for her. So, he wiped away his tears, put on his best brave face and talked to her.

He called her every three hours. Giving updates to her about his day, talking to her about whatever he could. He talked enough to compensate for the silence on her part. She smiled through every sentence, even though he could not see it, even though it wasn’t visible on her face, even though she didn’t have the power to, she smiled.

And she listened. So she didn’t have to focus on Josephine dying next to her or Augusta who was a hair length’s distance away from dying the previous day. Even though doctors told her that her situation was worsening, she listened because that became the only thing keeping her from giving up.

As her pains didn’t go away, and her condition worsened further, she was given sedatives and was thus mostly asleep. Which she was thankful for, for she couldn’t take it anymore, she just wanted to rest.

Dr Garcia came by routinely to check on her, talking to her about the outside world, gave her the gossips being passed around the hospital. Even though she was barely awake to listen to any of it, she was thankful for the kind doctor providing a calm lull while doing her job.

“Mr Styles, I’m afraid her condition isn’t getting any better. She should have shown atleast some improvements,” Dr Garcia informed Harry in a heavy voice.

On the other side of the line, Harry didn’t know what to do, it felt like someone was pulling away the floor under him. “What happens now?” He asked, praying for some hopeful news.

“We really can’t say much, each case is different, but it would be better uhm,” the doctor was thinking through her words, wanting to be as considerate as possible, “is there any family of hers that would want to talk to her?”

Harry almost let out a sob as he realised what the doctor was implying ‘is there anyone who would want to give her a final goodbye?’

“No, Y/n’s family passed away in an accident when she was 16, it’s just me and Sarah,” he explained, his voice on the verge of cracking, it was becoming harder to get words out of his mouth. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

“Oh, I understand,” Dr Garcia nodded, feeling sorry for the young girl who had stolen the hearts of everyone in the ward. She was a sweet girl, who had dreams and still held love for life even after everything she had seen. “This is not the end, Harry, she can still recover, God, I pray she does, this is not the end.” She really believed the words she was saying and wanted Harry to feel the same.

He nodded, tears clouding his eyes. He too really wanted to believe that.

A beat of silence fell upon the conversation, both in deep thought, “Harry, she wrote something on her board when she was awake yesterday,” Harry’s ears pricked up, “she wrote and I quote ‘I will not give up’ with a smiley face at the end. She is a fighter, you remember that,” Dr Garcia gave her parting ways and went back to her work.

Y/n’s words were imprinted in Harry’s mind. After the call, he made himself more presentable, wiping his tears and drove up to the church near Y/n’s house. He had come back to LA after Y/n was admitted to the ICU. He couldn’t be five thousand miles away from her in that condition.

The church was almost empty, which was surprising to Harry, given the situation, but he wasn’t complaining. He walked up the aisle, his hand grazing each wooden bench as he reached the altar and kneeled. He didn’t what to pray or how to pray, but he tried anyway. He closed his eyes and called out to God; he prayed with every part in his body, with every bone, every muscle, every fibre of being for his love to get better. For her to keep fighting. And for him to gain enough strength to deal with it all.

All this time, he had been feeling so helpless, not being able to do anything to make her better. But he made peace with the fact that the only thing he could do right now was to have faith. To have faith in God to guide him and her, in Y/n to be the stubborn strong-willed woman that she was and continue fighting, he had faith in his faith and that it would not disappoint.

He stayed there, talking to God until the closing hours. He then went back to Y/n’s place and sat on the sofa, waiting by his mobile, ready for any phone call he might receive.

He was awoken the next day by his phone ringing on the coffee table next to him. He looked at the time, it was noon, he picked up.

“Congratulations Harry, she’s getting better,” the relief was evident in Dr Garcia’s voice.

Harry felt himself getting physically lighter.

“I mean there is still a long way to go, but her oxygen levels are rising, her lungs are recovering, she’ll be soon able to breathe on her own. Harry, she did it, she won,” Harry didn’t listen to the rest of what the doctor was saying, he was too busy falling in love with the love of his life. It felt like he himself had come back from the dead. He knew his faith could never disappoint.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll be waiting for the call when you tell me she’s tested negative,” he laughed, his lungs breathing in air after what felt like a lifetime.

Dr Garcia chuckled along with him and agreed, telling him Y/n would call him when she woke up.

~

“You know I love you right? My fighter,” Harry tightened his grip on her hand and kissed her knuckles.

Y/n’s head fell back as laughter bubbled out of her, “You just told me that like two minutes ago.”

“I know, but a few weeks ago I thought I would never get to say it to you ever again. So, I will keep reminding you every minute that I love you and that you are the strongest person I know,” he snaked his arms around her, placing his head on top of hers, “I really missed holding you.”

She breathed in Harry’s scent, slowly regaining her sense of smell, she had missed this too. She cupped his cheek with her right hand and gave him a light peck.

Harry grabbed the back of her head, keeping her lips on his, deepening the kiss. When they separated, he rested his forehead against hers, not wanting her to move even an inch away from him.

Noticing her deep breaths, he whispered in her ears, “This is the only reason I want you to be out of breath. This and well... the other one,” he smirked.

“Oh hush you,” Y/n blushed, she sucked in a breath through her teeth, “Shit man, I love you.”

[aces-drew]

we fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds (post 2x12 nace fic)

author : acesdrxw (find me on ao3 here)

fandom : nancy x ace (nace) from cw's nancy drew

word count : 1027 words

tags : angst hehe it's all just gut-wrenching angst lmao (but cathartic bc confrontation)

warnings : none

premise : nancy confronts ace after picking up on how off he'd been with her since his almost death at the paper-mill

Ace wasn’t ready to go home yet.

Watching his dad lose a part of his heart to regret after he’d met Grant, almost dying, gaining and losing a brother all in a 16-hour window had left a heavy weight on him, constricting his ribcage and tying knots onto his spine. The dread he felt at having to process all of it for himself and then having to talk to his father about it, having to come to terms that he’d mostly never get to see Grant again – his big brother, his only brother – had heavily worn him down in the brief time he’d had to hold onto all of it.

He took a deep breath, trying to quell inevitable tears as he sat on the bench in the Claw’s storeroom. He didn’t even realise Nancy had walked in until she spoke up behind him.

‘I’m sorry I hurt you.’

He took a second and composed himself before he turned to face her. She looked uncharacteristically apprehensive, and he didn’t necessarily blame her. Something about the two of them had shifted and it was unfailingly and uncomfortably evident.

‘Hurt me? Nancy people could die because of me, they’re the ones who could get hurt.’

It was difficult for Ace to keep an even tone, so he stood up to steady himself a little more. ‘Do we even know for sure that he didn’t send out the list of names to anyone? Was it really the best decision to even have taken that chance? And God Nancy, how did you even know Celia would do what you asked her? I just-’

Ace stopped himself, unwilling to say anything he would regret.

‘It wasn’t a favour, it was a deal.’ She replied.

‘What?’

She took her turn to ready herself with a shaky breath, worrying Ace more than anything. ‘Celia asked that I change my statement against Everett in court in return for catching Daniel West and keeping you safe.’ She said, looking away from him. ‘I agreed to the terms.’

His temples buzzed with adrenaline as he digested the words. He couldn’t really process what he was hearing as his mind raced a mile a minute, ‘What the actual hell Nancy? What were you thinkin-’

‘I couldn’t gamble your safety.’ Nancy interrupted, looking away again; finality etched in her tone. That was enough to effectively set him over the edge.

‘And yet you gambled your integrity?’ Ace felt sick; he couldn’t help but yell. He was now not only responsible for the possible murders of multiple people, but he was also the reason that Nancy had given up everything she’d believed in and worked for, the reason that a known murderer would walk free. ‘This isn’t who you are Nancy, this town trusts you to do the right thing, your dad trusted that you would do the right thing, you’re better than this!’

Nancy recovered just as fast as she’d flinched at his words. ‘Really? Am I? Because last time I checked, all of you were very comfortable with telling me how much of a Hudson I am, so guess what? I am a Hudson; I did what I had to.’ Nancy bit back. Ace couldn’t miss the sincerity that was absent in her tone.

He was so tired. ‘This wasn’t the right call Nancy, you fucked up… I wasn’t worth it.’ Ace tried to remove himself from seeing the way a part of her broke at how he didn’t fight for the decision she’d made to save his life, how he didn’t try to understand what that had cost her, how she was willing to do it anyway. But he could see that she saw him too, that she was also processing his side of things. Even if, just like him, she wasn’t willing to come to terms with what it implied for the two of them.

They studied each other until the silence got too heavy.

‘But it was my call to make. I couldn’t lose you.’ She gave up, looking right at him with tears threatening to fall. She was still scanning his face for some semblance of understanding, for some approval. When it didn’t come, she pulled her last straw, ‘Tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same for me.’

If it were anybody else, Ace would’ve become the pacifist right then. He would’ve put up the front he always did and manage all his feelings onto the backburner, letting everything go for the sake of preserving peace, convincing himself that he’d process it all himself and get over it. He would’ve forgiven it and swallowed the hurt and exhaustion he was feeling. He would’ve managed the anger he felt at her for asking him for an answer that would even mildly justify the clearly wrong decision she’d made – the decision to choose him. He would’ve looked away from her crystal blue eyes and arrested his case.

But with Nancy, against all his better rational judgment, he didn’t feel the need to reserve himself like he always did, he wanted to feel everything he was feeling in full force and overwhelm her with it too. Despite everything, it felt important to be honest with her, to liberate himself from holding back in the only way he could given their current circumstances – he wanted to be angry with her because he was angry with her.

Ace had decided on that much; tonight, he wasn’t going to give either of them the comfort of coming to terms with what she’d done because of him, of unpacking why she’d done it when there was so much – too much, to lose. He’d settled on it, ending the conversation.

‘Amanda is waiting for me. I’m heading out.’ Ace didn’t know why, but he knew that mentioning her was a cheap shot.

And that’s what he did. Before he saw Nancy’s tears, tears he knew would break him into a million more pieces than he’d already been broken into today, tears that would force him to deal with more than he could handle with everything he felt for and about her, he made his way out of the Bayside Claw.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH19

People weren’t happy with how things went down with Alya in the original MDCSP, so I hope this version suffices. ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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Chapter 19: Miss Missing You

Alya chewed her nails, pivoting back and forth in her desk chair as Lila settled on her bed. Her thoughts raced too fast for Alya to make sense of them, and Lila’s grave expression did little to calm her nerves. When Alya told her about Adrien and Chloe, she insisted on meeting up. Maybe this way they could both talk to Ladybug, but something was off about Lila. Her jaw was a little too tense, and those green eyes swirled with an intensity Alya couldn’t place. What was going on?

“Is Ladybug on her way too? We have to let her know what they’re plotting,” Alya said, but when Lila remained quiet, she asked, “What?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Lila said. “This is going to be hard for me, but I trust you over anyone else.”

“What’s wrong?” Alya asked, and Lila shifted her weight, tucking a strand of long hair behind her ear.

“Well, Ladybug and I…we kind of had a falling out.” Lila lowered her gaze to her lap.

“What?”

“Remember when Chloe tried to impersonate her to make everyone hate me? Well, I told Ladybug about it, and that she shouldn’t trust Chloe anymore, but then last night she gave her back her Miraculous without consulting me.” Lila recounted. “I tried to talk to her and understand why she’d trust Chloe again after what she did to me, but Ladybug freaked out on me and told me not to question her judgment.”

“For real?” Alya gasped. “That’s not like her.”

“I know,” Lila said, “and after what you told me on the phone, I definitely think something weird is going on with her.”

“You don’t think Chloe is manipulating her, do you?” she asked.

Lila pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not Chloe. I think that…well, I’m sorry, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“Marinette?” Alya shot a glance at the Ladyblog pulled up on her computer, a sinking feeling in her gut.

She hadn’t posted about Queen Bee’s return—couldn’t bring herself to. Something was definitely off with Ladybug, but was it really all Marinette’s doing? Marinette wasn’t one for petty revenge, but maybe she had changed since she left. Or maybe Alya just never knew her like she thought she did.

Alya thought back to the night she was akumatized, the distant look in her bff’s eyes. She’d seemed tired, like all the fight had been drained from her. She didn’t even argue when Alya suggested they stop being friends, a fact that had haunted Alya ever since. Why had Marinette abandoned her so easily? Surely if her stories were to be believed, she would have fought harder, right? Wasn’t the truth worth fighting for?

“You said so yourself, Chloe and Adrien said they were going to get Ladybug to talk about me for Marinette. I think she’s manipulating all of them to get back at me because she can’t let go even after she’s been gone for a month now,” Lila said.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Marinette do that? When I last spoke to her, she didn’t want anything to do with you or anyone here really,” Alya said. “Well, except Adrien, I guess, but she’s always been head-over-heels for him.”

“She’s obsessed! She’s never liked me, and I never understood why. The only thing I’ve been able to figure out is that she didn’t like me talking to Adrien, so now she’s lured him over to her side and fed him all kinds of lies about me. I don’t even like him that way, but she’s just so insecure and jealous that she thought Adrien would fall in love with me because of all of my accomplishments.” Lila hugged a pillow to her chest. “Now she’s taken one of my best friends away from me too!”

Alya crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, draping an arm over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl. Maybe we can talk to Ladybug and convince her not to do that interview tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we can,” Lila whimpered. “She hasn’t responded to any of my calls ever since the Queen Bee thing. She’s on their side now.”

“Are you sure? I’ve met Ladybug a bunch of times, and she would totally pick up on it if something fishy was going on,” Alya said.

“Watch the interview tomorrow. If Ladybug says anything about me that sounds like them, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” Lila said.

Alya pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Lila’s story was just as probable as theirs at this point, and she was right. All they could do was watch the interview and see what happened. For their sake, she hoped that Chloe and Adrien’s plan failed, and Ladybug never mentioned Lila. But a heavy pit was already forming in Alya’s stomach, filling her with dread for the coming day. How had she gotten herself into the middle of all this drama? And how long would it be before the truth was finally revealed?

♪♫♪ Don’t Blame Me ♪♫♪

“How long before we give up?” Adrien asked the next afternoon. He leaned against the railing while Chloe manned the spotlight beside him.

“It’s hasn’t even been 20 minutes, Adrikins. I’ve sat up here for entire akuma battles before.” Chloe chided.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous,” he said, letting a breath pass his lips.

Chloe spun on him with a scowl, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Oh no, you are not backing out this time. We’re doing this, so just think about Dupain-Cheng’s awful split-ends or whatever it is you need to keep you motivated.”

Adrien pursed his lips as Chloe turned back to her bee signal. She was right. No backing out this time. Lila was going down once and for all, then Marinette could finally be free. Marinette…

His heart fluttered, warming his cheeks. It would be obvious after today that he was helping Chloe take down Lila. Being intentionally cruel wasn’t in his nature, but he’d do anything to protect the people he loved. To protect the girl he loved.

It had taken him longer than it should have to realize his feelings for her, but now they burned so brightly, he had to wonder how he’d ever missed them. Marinette was a wonderful girl and a dear friend. If ever there was a person to fight for, it was her. She’d understand why he did all of this. It was all for her—always for her.

His heart ached with longing. Now that Marinette went to a different school, he couldn’t see her as often as he used to. Sometimes they went several days without seeing each other, and his heart grew heavier the longer they stayed apart. At least when he loved Ladybug, he got to see her every day when they fought akumas or patrolled the city, but even that wasn’t enough.

Adrien had spent too much of his life alone. Couldn’t the universe give him just one person to cure his loneliness? Missing Marinette was torture. What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about him?

He pulled out his phone and typed a simple message: what’s up?

Ugh, no, that was lame.

Hey cutie ;) what are you up to?

No, too forward.

I was just thinking about you

Too clingy. He backspaced over his message again, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Why was flirting so much harder as Adrien? If he were Chat Noir, he’d just drop a few cat puns and tell her how pretty she was, but that might be a little abrasive coming from Adrien. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off. After all, she almost kissed him in the garden too. That meant she loved him back, right?

Pressing his lips into a determined line, he typed another message and hit send without overthinking it.

Hey, how’s your day been?

A minute passed before his phone buzzed with a reply: busy. I’m finalizing my designs for Clara. I present to her next week and im super nervous!

Aww don’t be clara is gonna love them.

I hope so! she replied. So what are you up to today?

Uhh im working on a school project with chloe. He lied. We have to interview someone we look up to, and shes demanding we interview ladybug so weve been standing on the roof with her bee signal for like 30 minutes.

Wow ladybug huh? I hope she shows up for you guys. Anyway these designs aren’t going to finish themselves so ill talk to you later! Bye!

good luck!

He smiled down at her messages. Marinette was always running a million miles an hour working on some project or another. She was so driven and passionate—something Adrien deeply admired. Clara would love her designs, and he and Chloe would definitely take down Lila this time. Then he and Marinette could be together without having to worry about anything. They could move to the suburbs and buy a cozy home for their three kids, a dog, and a hamster named-

“Looking for me?” Adrien and Chloe spun around, and Ladybug cocked a hip. “What’s the emergency?”

“Uhh,” Adrien stammered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We have to interview one of our personal heroes for a school project, so we picked you. Isn’t that right, Adrikins?” She nudged him with her elbow.

Think about Marinette. Everything was for Marinette. The tears she’d spilled, the pain she’d suffered… Adrien was going to take it all away. Lila would never hurt her again.

“Yeah. Do you have time?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug glanced between them and smiled. “I have a few minutes. Make it quick.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped her hands together and paced toward the stairs. “Everything is set up in my suite.”

Adrien took a deep breath as Ladybug fell into step beside him. A month ago being so close to her would have sent his heart into overdrive, but now his heart was pounding for a different reason. Ladybug hated liars. Deceiving her was a direct betrayal of her trust. Even if his feelings for her had changed, he was still her partner, and manipulating her like this didn’t feel right.

“Wait.” He stopped abruptly and caught Ladybug’s wrist. Chloe was already through the doorway to the stairs, and he sent her a silent apology just in case his next words ruined everything. “Chloe and I lied to you. This isn’t for a school project.”

“Then what’s all this about?” Ladybug asked.

“It’s…” Adrien took a deep breath and continued. “You remember Lila, right? She lied about you saving her and how you two are bffs?”

Ladybug sobered. “Yeah?”

“Well, her lies have gotten out of hand, and she hurt someone important to me. Chloe and I planned to trick you into admitting you two were never friends, so that everyone can finally see the truth about her. The interview was just a coverup,” Adrien explained, hanging his head low. “We shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug eyed him with pursed lips, those blue eyes working out a solution like he were one of her lucky charms. She seemed to come to a conclusion, her face softening. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“If you don’t want to help us, I won’t blame you. I know it’s wrong to seek revenge,” Adrien said.

A knowing smile spread across her lips. “That friend of yours must be really special to you.”

“What?”

“For you to resort to something like this, you must care about your friend—the one Lila hurt—a lot,” she said, then with a sigh added, “I don’t normally condone revenge, but I know how dangerous Lila can be. I’ve almost lost my Miraculous because of her several times, so I think you’re right. It’s time everyone learned the truth about Lila Rossi.”

Adrien blinked. “So, wait… You’re going to help us?”

“I made a promise to keep Paris safe, and if we continue to let Lila go unchecked, she’s only going to put more people in danger,” Ladybug said. “It’s time someone put her in her place.”

“Hurry up, you two! I have a hair appointment this evening, and I do not want to be late!” Chloe shouted from the doorway.

Adrien held Ladybug’s gaze, and she gave him an encouraging nod. “Uh, coming!” he called.

He gestured Ladybug ahead, following close behind her, cheeks hot. This was really happening. Ladybug was going to help them stop Lila. After today, everyone would know the truth, and Marinette would be free. They all would.

“Ladybug, you sit on this side.” Chloe directed. “Adrikins and I will sit on this side.”

“Okay,” Ladybug said, sliding onto the couch smoothly.

Adrien took the seat across from her, wiping his palms on his jeans while Chloe barked orders at her butler. Satisfied with the camera angle, Chloe sat beside him and fixed her hair in her compact before calling “action.”

Chloe’s butler—Adrien couldn’t remember his name—started the Instagram live, broadcasting to all of Chloe’s followers. There was no turning back now.

“Hello out there, my little worker bees. Your queen is here with some very special guests today,” Chloe cooed in her token attention-seeking voice. “My favorite people in the whole world besides myself, obviously—Adrien and Ladybug!”

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Adrien waved.

“As you all know, I helped Ladybug defeat another akuma last weekend. Being Queen Bee again was such an honor, and I admit, even I have people I look up to,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “So, Ladybug, thank you for allowing me to become a superheroine. Queen Bee is truly an inspiration.”

“Uh, sure.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir and I always appreciate help from our allies.”

“You heard it here, everyone! Ladybug values my help,” Chloe said, and Adrien cleared his throat. “Now, onto the topic of today’s livestream. People everywhere are inspired by superheroes like me and Ladybug, so today we are going to give you all the inside scoop on what it takes to be a hero.”

“That’s right, Chloe,” Adrien piped up. “I don’t have superpowers, so I have to ask: what’s it like being a superhero, Ladybug?”

“Well, everyone thinks that having superpowers is all fun and games, but in reality, Chat Noir and I have a huge responsibility. Defending Paris every day requires sacrifice, and we know the whole city is counting on us to succeed. It’s a lot of pressure,” Ladybug said.

“Of course, I know what it’s like being a superhero myself, but can you tell everyone how overwhelming it is to save the day all the time?” Chloe prompted.

“Yeah, totally. It’s a lot of work fighting akumas. Sometimes Hawkmoth makes supervillains at the worst times, and I have to drop everything to go save the city. Leading a double life is challenging, and sometimes it even impacts my day-to-day life. School, friends, family—I’m always rushing all over the place juggling two lives.” Ladybug admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I’m happy to do it. Paris is my home, and it’s an honor to defend it. Besides, when the going gets tough, I know I can count on my partners to have my back.”

“So, when you pick a new partner, what qualities do you look for in a person that makes them a good fit to work with you?” Adrien asked.

“I look for people with courage and good intentions. Often times, the people I pick are ones who have stepped up to do the right thing, even if it’s hard. They’re people I know I can trust,” Ladybug said.

“Would you say you consider your allies close personal friends?” Chloe beamed, flashing the camera a wink.

“Well, I don’t know all of them in real life like you, Chloe,” Ladybug said with a cautious glance at the camera. “Sometimes they are people I meet during a battle that impress me, and who prove themselves to be trustworthy.”

“And how do you know if you can trust someone?” Adrien asked. “Do you consult anyone for recommendations, or do you operate on the fly?”

“Most of the time when I give someone a Miraculous, it’s because they’ve demonstrated their character to me. Every person I give a Miraculous to has earned their right to wear it either by helping me or showing that they’re willing to sacrifice to save others. The decision about who gets to wear one and who doesn’t is deeply personal to me,” Ladybug answered. “Not even Chat Noir knows the identities of our allies. It’s something I don’t share with anyone.” She shot Chloe a stern look. “Under normal circumstances.”

“So, you pick the allies by yourself?” Adrien followed up.

“Yes. In the middle of a battle, I wouldn’t even have time to consult anyone if I wanted to.”

“In other words, if anyone were to—I don’t know—claim that they help you choose your partners, they’d be a liar, right?” Chloe added.

“Yeah, I don’t talk to anyone about who I pick.” Ladybug shook her head.

“Ya know, Ladybug, there are some people out there that claim to be your best friend. How do you feel about people lying about knowing you to make themselves more popular?” Chloe asked.

Ladybug locked eyes with Adrien, the weight of their mission heavy on both of their shoulders. She clasped her hands together in her lap and said, “As I’m sure both of you are aware, there will always be people who use your name for their own selfish gain, but I want everyone out there to know that I take my job very seriously. Protecting all of you is my number one priority.”

She took a deep breath. “Being a superhero is dangerous, and that’s why, with the exception of Chat Noir and my trusted allies, Ladybug doesn’t have friends.”

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?” Adrien asked.

“Yes, and they’re putting themselves in danger. Hawkmoth will stop at nothing to get my Miraculous, so please, if you’re out there… Do the right thing, and tell the truth.” Ladybug pleaded to the camera.

“It’s utterly pathetic when people lie about who they know just to get attention,” Chloe sighed in disgust. “You heard it here, my little bees! Chat Noir and I are Ladybug’s only friends.”

“Well, I’d consider you more of an ally than a frie-”

“And as one of Ladybug’s bffs, I want all of the losers out there to buzz off! Ladybug has much more important things to do, like spending time with me,” Chloe said.

“Right.” Ladybug’s yoyo beeped, and she glanced down at it briefly. “I should really get going. A hero’s work is never done.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Ladybug,” Adrien said, shaking her hand.

“No problem. It’s important to me that everyone in Paris knows I��m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust. We’ll all keep fighting hard to protect this city,” she said, waving two fingers. “Bug out!”

“Well, that does it for this livestream, little bees. Your queen will see you all again next time. Bye-bye!”

♪♫♪ Impossible Year ♪♫♪

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?”

“Yes.”

Lila was right. They really had gotten to Ladybug. Alya had done her best not to think about Marinette since their falling out. Remembering her old bff was too painful and confusing. Everything Alya thought she knew changed the moment Lila came to their school. The person she trusted became a stranger overnight. Alya wanted to believe that Marinette would never align herself with Chloe or orchestrate a hostile takedown just because she was jealous, but Alya had seen her do crazier things to win Adrien.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust.”

How was Chloe more trustworthy than Alya? All that was necessary for the triumph of evil was that good people do nothing. She’d known from day one that Chloe was evil, so why couldn’t Ladybug see it?  Why would Ladybug align herself with the queen of all evil over someone who dedicated herself to doing the right thing? Was this really all Marinette’s doing? And why?

Was Marinette really that desperate to win Adrien? Did she hate Lila so much that she’d willingly team up with her worst enemy to get back at her for stealing attention away from the boy she liked? From where Alya was sitting, it looked like Marinette already had him, and Lila had always been clear that she wasn’t interested in him that way. Why go through all that trouble to get Ladybug to denounce Lila just to win a boy? But if Marinette was involved with Ladybug…

It all made sense now. The reason Ladybug had picked someone else to wield her Miraculous. How long had they been plotting all of this? And how could Ladybug trust Marinette’s word over Alya’s without even trying to hear her side of the story? Or Lila’s? How could Ladybug not see that she was being manipulated? She was a hero, and one of the best Alya had ever seen. So why was she fighting for the wrong side?

Her head spun, and she gripped the side of her desk for support. Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth.

“You want to save Ladybug from those you deem evil. Let me help you, Ladyblogger.”

Alya jumped at the sinister voice in her head. She smoothed her thumb over her phone screen, now glowing with dark energy. A cold feeling washed over her, all of her pain and confusion bubbling to the surface. In the center of it all stood her determined resolve, driving her to give in.

Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth. Someone like her.

[chikaiomoi]

take the fire from within, you won’t break me

characters: LOV, hawks (eventual dabi x hawks x female reader)

title: ‘take the fire from within, you won’t break me’ (lyrics from ‘tourniquet’ by breaking benjamin) | part one

words: 5k

warnings: dark themes, drug mention, guns, knives, gangs, shigaraki being... shigaraki, cops, suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

synopsis:

it’s the end of the university semester and you’ve returned home for a break, excited to see your loving parents and your adorable younger sister, himiko. however, something is off with your sister. you follow her, only to be dragged into the world of underground criminals and gangs.

[quirkless au/modern au]

Fresh blossom and cinnamon — the scent of home. It greets you as you walk inside, returning to your family home after weeks away at university. Of course, it’s not the only thing that greets you.

“Welcome home, onee-san!” The voice of your younger sister chimes. Himiko bounds down the stairs, skipping every other step as if falling down was simply impossible. She jumps on you, throwing her arms around your tired form to embrace before you have a chance to drop your heavy belongings. She mewls with excitement, kicking her legs in the air as she hangs from your shoulders before finally letting go. 

She looks the same as she had the last time you were home - blonde hair in messy buns on either side of her head. Still in her high school uniform, she must only have returned home recently.

You grin at her and pat her head whilst dropping your bag on the floor, shoulder thanking you for relief from the weight. “Missed me, huh?” you tease as you remove your shoes and slide on the slippers eagerly awaiting your return. 

“Duh,” Himiko scoffs and practically drags you into the living room. She plops down onto the small couch, but so kindly left room for her big sister. “Who else am I meant to annoy when you’re away? Can’t you come home more often?” she whined.

Her golden eyes peer up at you with such a desperation that you’re almost tempted to say yes, but you know it’s pointless; you’ll only disappoint her in the future. Life as a medical student is hard and you’re busy studying so much of the time, as well as working part-time to support yourself. The least you can do is spend as much time as possible with her whilst visiting home.

“I wish,” you sigh and lean back, stretching out your legs, stiff from the train journey. “Why don’t we go to the convenience store, buy some snacks, then come back and have a movie night?” It’s a good suggestion, usually. Although you have different tastes in movies, the two of you always have fun. 

But Himiko sighs. “Can’t tonight — gonna hang out with some friends.”

Friends? Friends?

Himiko has never been good at making friends. As much as you love her, she’s too forward and overwhelming. If she has friends, you can only imagine they’re of a similar calibre to her.

You might have pouted and begged her to stay if the thought of your sister finally having friends didn’t fill your chest with joy. You grin and poke her arm. “Friends, huh? What are their names? Are they from school? What are they like?”

The blonde rolls her eyes at the sudden barrage of questions. “They’re cool, that’s all you need to know.” Those are the only answers you’re getting for now — you’ll press for more later. 

It’s then that your parents come down the stairs and greet you with bright smiles. Only, they’re dressed in fine clothes and your mother has makeup on, which she only ever wears when going somewhere fancy. You pout. “Are you going out too?” 

Your father holds up his palms. “In our defence, you weren’t supposed to come home until tomorrow.” 

Your mother squeezes your cheek as if you were still six years old. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, plenty to choose from.” 

Wonderful. Your first night back and you’re spending it alone. At least you don’t have to cook for yourself. 

Your parents leave before Himiko does, but once they’re gone, she hurries up to her bedroom to change. After sliding your feet out of your slippers, you curl up on the couch and grab your phone to flick through social media. Friends post pictures of their cakes from cafés, or snaps from their evening at karaoke, or even pictures of the evening sky. You could have joined along if you hadn’t come home a day early. 

After half an hour, Himiko skips down the stairs, dressed in casual clothes, hair still as it was before. Dropping her backpack onto the floor by your feet, she goes into the kitchen. “Do you want a drink? I have stuff for tapiru,” she calls. “I’ll make you one before I go — a way to say sorry for abandoning you tonight.” She giggles and your lips curl up into a smile.

“Yes, please!” 

Your legs spin over the edge of the sofa, ready to jump up and join her in the kitchen, but her backpack is slightly open and the ceiling light reflects off something that catches your attention. Glancing up, you make sure she can’t see before you peer into her bag. 

You gasp, hand shooting to your mouth. 

A gun. A silver handgun. It’s not a toy. No, by the weight of it, it’s real. When you push it aside, you see a sheathed knife too. 

Why the fuck did she have these?! 

It had to be these new friends of hers. Yes, Himiko had always been a little crazy and had a bizarre obsession with slasher movies. In this regard, the knife didn’t startle you that much. But the gun? No, no… Himiko hadn’t liked guns, would never use one if given the chance. Not personal enough, she would say.

Your first instinct — out of fear and concern and anger — is to yell at her and ask her why she had dangerous weapons. But a tiny voice in the back of your mind stops you. 

If Himiko finally has friends, your concerns won’t be enough to stop her. Friends are all she has ever wanted; even the pleas of the sister she loved dearly won’t be enough to pull her from that friendship. 

You must be pale when she returns with bubble tea, because she giggles as she hands the cup to you. “You’re not afraid to be alone tonight, are you?”

Forcing a smile to your lips, you shake your head and take the tea. “No, just tired. Thanks, Himicchi.”

The nickname makes a wide grin spread onto her face, revealing the two pointed teeth that always make her stand out from the crowd. Your mother has a similar shape of canines, but you inherited the blunter ones of your father. 

Once you taste the tea and she knows you like it, she scoops up her bag. “See you later, onee-chan!”

Your stomach turns with uncomfort, twisting and clenching. Your little sister… with a gun. 

When she leaves, you watch her from the window, and it takes all of your strength not to follow her.

Fuck that, you don’t have the strength to sit idle. You slip on your shoes, pocket your phone, and follow your sister.

When you were younger, you were always better at hide-and-seek than she was, which might be why you’re able to follow her through the streets without her noticing. If she has noticed, she hasn't said anything or tried to throw you off her trail. 

The building she approaches is concerning – it’s old, abandoned, and derelict – but it’s not that which concerns you the most. It’s the group of men, all your age or older, hanging outside, greeting her as she approaches. Two are smoking, and from the shape of the piece in their fingers, you can’t tell if it’s tobacco or weed. One is sitting on top of a car, counting notes before handing a lump to Himiko. He pats the top of her head before returning to counting bills. 

From the dark doorway, two other men approach. One is tall, easily the oldest of the group, wearing a waistcoat and a tie like a dodgy businessman. The other you can’t make out that well. His raggy blue hair covers most of his features. At their gesture, the others and Himiko go inside.

Your heart sinks into your stomach. 

You ought to run in and shout at them. What do they think they’re doing hanging around a sixteen year old? And what were they paying her for?! You ought to rush in, grab your sister’s hand and drag her out of there.

But doing so might only push her away from you. It could do more harm than good.

So, instead, you go home and wait for the night to be over.

*

Eyes narrow as you glare at the run-down building, which only looks worse in daylight. It’s a Friday and Himiko is at school, giving you the chance to finally approach the scumbags. They’re in there – you watched them saunter in ten minutes ago. 

You’re too concerned with your sister’s safety to think about your own, to consider that they likely have weapons with them, and you storm into the building, burning with fury. Your hands shake and your heart pounds at one million miles an hour, but you don’t care. They need to know just how scummy they are, how disgraceful it is that they’ve roped a teenage girl into whatever gross activities they get up to. You follow the sound of voices and slam open the door. Six heads snap in your direction.

“What the fu–” a blond man starts, but you cut him off.

“How fucking dare you,” you growl, fists clenched at your sides to hide the trembles. “Do you know how old she is?! She’s sixteen, for fuck’s sake! What are grown men doing hanging around a sixteen year old? She’s still in school! Are you fucking perverts or something?! And what are you paying her for, what sort of…”

You trail off when your eyes register the barrel of a gun pointing at your head. 

The blue-haired man, who looks your age up close, holds the handgun, pressing the barrel against your forehead. A sickly grin spreads across his face, chapped lips revealing teeth. “You must be Himiko’s older sister.” He laughs and the sound shakes your bones – it’s dark, it’s unnatural, it’s predatory. Then, the grin drops and his crimson eyes bore into you. 

“Let me lay this out for you,” he says. “None of us have even looked at your sister that way. We’re not that kind of criminal.” His words earn chuckles from the others behind him. “Pretty bold of you to storm in here like a trembling doe. If you know your sister has been hanging out with us, then surely you know how dangerous we are?” As if for emphasis, he releases the safety on the gun.

You swallow the lump blocking your dried-up throat. Your stomach turns, threatening to bring up breakfast. 

“We’re not very nice people,” he continues. “Not very nice people with scary guns are very dangerous. If you say or do the wrong thing, you could end up with a bullet right between those pretty eyes of yours. I should kill you for trespassing, really, but I’m not that cruel.” Another sick laugh escapes him as he lowers the gun. “I can be nice when I want to be. So, I’m going to make you a deal.”

He holsters the gun and grabs you by the shoulders, fingers digging into your flesh. “There’s a job you can do for me. I’m sure you’ll say yes. After all, you don’t want to die, do you? And you certainly won’t want little Himiko doing it.” With a wave of his hand, he gestures another man over. 

One of the smokers steps forward, holding up a tightly sealed package. You’ve seen enough crime shows and documentaries to know what it is – drugs. The dark-haired man smirks at the way your eyes widen, throat bobbing as you try to form words, but your voice fails you. 

“I’ll forgive you if you deliver these,” blue-hair speaks again. You assume he’s the leader, even though he looks the youngest (aside from Himiko). “Take Dabi with you. I don’t want you running off to the police crying and begging for help. We’d know if you did, you see, and we’d make sure you were very, very sorry.”

Sucking in a slow, shaky breath between your lips, you nod. You couldn’t refuse. Refusing means a bullet in the head. Refusing means your sister will have to deliver the drugs instead. Although your body trembles and begs you to run away from it all, you allow Dabi to grab your elbow and drag you out of the building. He opens the door to a black Ford Mustang, decorated with blue flame decals by the wheels. It’s tacky and cringy and under normal circumstances, you would pull a face and comment on it. But not now. 

Now, your life is in danger.

“Put your seatbelt on,” Dabi’s gravelly voice sounds as you both get into the car. “Don’t want you flying through the window if we crash.”

“Are you that bad of a driver?” The comment leaves your mouth before you have time to consider his reaction. The moment you hear the words yourself, however, you flinch and look away.

He doesn’t snap at you, though. He chuckles and ignites the engine. 

“So… Thought you could burst into our hideout and actually frighten us?” he laughs, glancing at you from aside with those piercing blue eyes. “Where do you get that confidence from? I’d love to know.”

Your face heats up, cheeks turning red, and you roll your eyes. “I wasn’t thinking,” you murmur. “I was just mad. All I knew was that my little sister was hanging out with adult men. Do you know how suspicious that is?”

Dabi scoffs. “I get your point, but as the boss said, we’re not like that. I like women, not girls.” The corner of his lips curl upwards. “I like smart women. Independent women. Women who go out there and do what they want to do.” He pauses, then continues. “I like women who secretly enjoy reading manga. I like women who sing in the shower like no one is listening. I like women who come home to their families a day early.”

You narrow your eyes. “Himiko has mentioned me, hasn’t she?”

“Maybe,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes again. “Dick.”

“Thinking about that, huh?”

His words only turn your flush redder. “I’m not interested in men like you.” Even if he is pleasing on the eye, he’s a criminal, certainly not someone you want to take home to your family. He’s the sort of guy you’d fuck one night if confident from alcohol in your system, no the sort of guy you’d go on a date with. 

The rest of the journey is mostly silent, save from the music playing almost inaudibly through the speakers. You don’t recognise any of the songs, and when you ask him who the artist is, he names someone you have never even heard of. Not that you have any intention of listening to it when you return home. 

Eventually, the car stops by an empty alleyway, relatively dark considering how bright the sun is. “Here we go,” he said, unclipping his seatbelt. He passes the package to you and smiles. “Don’t be long. I’ll be here if something goes…” his voice trails off when he peers out of the window and down into the alley.

You shrug it off, grab the package, unbuckle your seatbelt, and open the car door.

Dabi grabs your wrist. “No, no, stay here. I know that guy.”

A brow on your forehead raises. “So? Let me go, I need to do this jo--”

“No, you’re not. I went to high school with him, he’s not the kind of guy to want drugs.” 

You sigh. “Maybe he’s changed since high school. Himiko never used to be the kind of girl to join a gang, but here she is. I never used to be the kind of girl who would sing in front of others, but now I go to karaoke with my friends every weekend. People change, Dabi. Now let me get out to do this job.”

He looks at you, head tilting ever so slightly. “You go to karaoke every weekend?”

With a scowl, you shake off his grip and get out of the car. In a hushed voice, he tries to summon you back, but you ignore him and approach the man waiting.

He looks no longer than you, messy blond hair pushed back, headphones around his neck. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, which he drops and stomps out with his boot. “I wasn’t told I’d be getting eye candy too,” he chuckles, plastering a grin on his face. His hand thrusts out. “I’m Hawks.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Is that your real name?” You don’t shake his hand.

“Of course not. You think I’m going to use my real name for this?” 

You hum and hold out your hand. “Money first, please.” You’ve never dealt drugs before, but you’ve seen enough crime shows to know that the dealer never hands items over without feeling the payment in their hands.

Hawks laughs at you but he doesn’t argue. He pulls out a wad of notes from his pocket and drops it into your open palm. 

A fake smile finds its home on your lips and you hold the package out. 

“Oi, get back here!” Dabi shouts from the car.

Hawks’s expression drops. He tosses the package behind him and grabs your wrist, spinning you around. He pins you to the wall just as you hear tyres screeching. Dabi’s car is no longer in sight when Hawks speaks again.

“You’re under arrest for the intent to supply,” he says, and reads out the rights to you, but his voice fades into nothing.

You hear nothing. You only feel the cold, metal cuffs clamped around your wrist. Your body doesn’t react as a police car pulls up and Hawks pushes you into the back of it. 

Nothing. You feel nothing.

Numb. 

Numb. 

Empty.

Until the police station comes into view and your body fills with fear. “N-no, you’ve got this all wrong, I’m not-”

“I caught you in the act, sweetheart. Unless you’re going to tell me that wasn’t cocaine in that package?” 

You fall silent again, only speaking to answer questions when they register you at the front desk. You don’t even speak when they pat you down. Then, Hawks takes you through to an interview room, tells you to sit, then takes off the cuffs. 

He sits opposite you and leans back, crossing his arms. “Detective Takami Keigo. Want to tell me what you were doing dealing drugs?”

Your throat dries up and you force yourself to swallow before you even try to speak. “I-I…”

“The front desk couldn’t pull up a criminal history because you have none. How did you get roped into this?” he asks. 

“I was trying to protect my sister,” you mutter. So much for helping her… Now she was going to find out what you tried to do. It’s so easy to picture the face she’ll make when you return home; the way she’ll cross her arms, the downward turn of her lips, the crease between her eyebrows when she frowns. 

“Protect her from what?” Keigo asks.

With a sigh, you rub your eyes. He’s a detective. If you’re honest, surely, he will understand and you won’t be in trouble? “Yesterday I found out that my little sister is hanging around men much older than her. So, today, I found them and I… Well, I told them what I thought of them. What else was I supposed to think they were doing? She even had a gun in her bag, she’s never had one before. But then the leader - I can’t remember his name - pointed a gun to my head and said if I didn’t do what he asked, he’d kill me. He said if I did this, then it would mean my sister didn’t have to.”

He studies you as you speak. When you finish, he leans forward. “The gang leader, what did he look like?”

Your face contorts into an expression of pure disgust. “Like he needs to invest in moisturiser. And needs to take a bath. His hair is blue and it hangs over his face so you can’t really see what he looks like, but when he gets close, he has the sickliest of smiles.”

Keigo hums. “Shigaraki Tomura. We’ve had our eye on him for a while. We know he’s up to something more than simple drug-dealing, but we don’t know what, yet. If we arrest him now, he’ll not be away for long enough. He’s tricky, though. Always goes under the radar just when we think we have something.” 

“Detective Takami, please…” you say as you lean forward, hands flat on the wooden table between the two of you. “I just want to protect my sister and get out of there alive. I didn’t want to do anything illegal. I’m a university student, I want a good life.”

His lips grow into a faint smile. “Then I’ll make you a deal. You and your sister will be granted immunity… if you feed information on Shigaraki Tomura to me.”

Your chest squeezes tight. “H-how do I do that?”

“You’ll have to go back.”

“N-no, please, I can’t-”

“If anything gets too dangerous, then I’ll get you out of there,” Keigo promises. He grabs your hand across the table and squeezes it, his palm warm over your skin. “But if you help with my investigation, then I promise both you and your sister won’t face criminal charges for anything you’re involved in.”

You take the deal. Of course you do, you’d be a fool not to. This morning you promised to yourself that you’d protect Himiko. Then, you had only intended to shout at those guys, but now… Now you’re helping with a criminal investigation. 

Fuck.

A police officer drives you home, but you ask that he drops you off several streets away from home. You don’t want your family to see you get out of a police car, so you walk the rest of the way. Your parents aren’t home yet, but Himiko is.

She’s waiting for you, arms crossed as she stands in the doorway, eyes narrowed, that crease between her brows. “Dabi told me what happened,” she says, her voice colder than you’ve ever heard it before.

“Himiko-”

“How could you be such an idiot?! You should have listened to him, you wouldn’t have been arrested if you had!”

You’re too tired to argue. Too tired to shout at her for joining a dangerous gang. Too tired to explain your reasons. You can’t, anyway, it would jeopardise your deal with Detective Takami. Instead, you apologise and go to bed. Himiko doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night.

Your plan is to wait a couple of days before returning to the hideout. Given how afraid you were, if you go back straight away, it might just look suspicious. It gives you time to psych yourself up for going undercover, anyway. 

You wander out to the convenience store down the road, craving something sweet and overwhelmingly carbohydrate. You’re browsing the selection of sweet breads when an arm drapes itself around your shoulder. 

You gasp and squirm away, only to come face-to-face with Dabi when he pulls you back to him. “Thought you’d be in a prison cell.”

Cheeks flushing bright red, your gaze darts around quickly to check no one heard him. “They let me go seeing as I have no other offences. I claimed I had no idea what it really was. Don’t think they believed that, but I don’t think I’m the type of person they’re after.” 

His azure eyes pierce through yours, searching deep into your core. If he stares at you for too long, you might just crack under the pressure and blurt out the truth. Thankfully, he looks away and grabs two melonpan and gestures for you to follow him. Once they’re paid for, he guides you out to his car. “Get in.”

You do as you're told because, quite frankly, you’re too afraid to say no. He drives off and bites the corner of the plastic off the wrapper, then bites into the melonpan. The taste makes him groan, and you wonder if, beneath that tough criminal exterior, he’s a normal guy who likes the taste of good food. 

“So,” he starts mid-bite, because obviously he lacks manners. “What exactly happened?”

“Like I said, they let me go.”

Dabi scoffs. “Bullshit. Tell me the truth.”

You huff. “I am telling the truth!”

He just laughs and shakes his head. Of course he doesn’t believe you.

Shigaraki doesn’t believe you when you tell him, either.

“Do you think I was born yesterday?” he asks, glaring at you beneath thick blue hair. “They wouldn’t just let you go. Tell me what happened.”

“As I said-”

His hand drops to his gun.

“O-okay, okay, that’s not what happened…”

Shigaraki chuckles and moves his hand away from the gun. “Good girl.” He studies you. “They asked you to relay information to them, didn’t they?”

You start to wonder how he worked it out so quickly, but in all honesty, you’re not surprised. He’s probably more organised than your class notes. 

He walks closer to you - so close that you can smell the overly-sweet aroma of his breath from the energy drink he downed when you walked in. “You’re going to feed the police incorrect information, do you understand? Because if you don’t…” His face contorts into a tormenting smirk. “I’ll break your kneecaps. Then, I’ll break your elbows. Once I’ve done that, I’ll put a bullet in that pretty head.” A bony hand caresses your cheek, brushing hair away from your face. “But not before I do the same to little Himiko.”

Your heart stops. 

No.. No, not to Himiko.

Your sister’s smile pops into your mind and you can hear her laugh. Not your little sister. 

“A-alright…” you mutter and clench your fists to hide your trembling. “I’ll do it.” 

Shigaraki pats your cheek. “Good girl.” He moves away and waves his hand. “Take her home, Dabi.”

The journey home is so silent you think you’re going to suffocate on it. Yet, at the same time, there’s nothing you can bring yourself to say. Dabi doesn’t even play that shit music he had on yesterday. 

When he pulls up outside your house, you both remain there, quiet, until he leans a little closer and his arm drapes over the back of the passenger seat. “I know this is frightening for you. Shigaraki can be overwhelming and intimidating and fucking sick and scary.” A heavy breath escapes from his nostrils and he reaches into your pocket, swiping your phone. You try to grab it back, but he holds it away and types something in. “There’s my number. I’m here if you need anything, alright?”

You look up at him with a frown as he hands back your phone. “Why?” you mutter. “We’re strangers, we don’t know each other.”

His eyes search your face as he chuckles, and you take the chance to do the same. Scars line his sharp jaw, although it’s not obvious we’re they’re from. His hair is dyed - you can tell by the hint of white at his roots. Well, it’s either that or he’s going grey early. His face is young, perhaps only older than you by a year or two. He’s handsome. Incredibly so. When you think of criminals, you think of rough-looking folk, but he is nothing of the sort. The bright blue eyes are incredibly charming, as is the smile on his lips. 

The smile he forms because he notices you’re staring at him.

You look away, your cheeks turning pink. With a huff, you hold out your hand. “Phone.” When he gives you it, you type in your details, then shove it back into his hand. His fingers graze over yours, warm but calloused. The contact makes you suck in a breath, and you mentally scold yourself for reacting in such a way, 

Dabi leans closer and his voice lowers in tone. “If you need anything, just text me, or call me. Anything.” He leans even closer and you think he’s-

Knock, knock, knock.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your throat as you snap towards the window. 

Himiko glares as Dabi rolls down the window. “Oi, stop flirting with my sister.”

“H-he wasn’t-” you quickly say, but he just laughs.

“Aw, Toga… I’m just having fun.”

Himiko rolls her eyes and yanks the car door open, practically dragging you from it. “Goodbye, Dabi!” she says as she slams the car door shut. She doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re both inside the house and she huffs, poking your warm cheek. “Don’t blush at his words. He’s a player.”

Maybe he is, but all you can think about for the rest of the day is the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leaned closer. All you can imagine is what might have happened if your sister hadn’t interrupted. 

Lying in bed that night, you stare at his contact details. Maybe you should text him… Just to say thank you for driving you home, right? Your finger hovers over the screen.

Ping.

Remember, I said you can contact me for ANY reason. I don’t care what. 

You roll your eyes and type back.

I know what you mean, you pervert.

You stare at the three dots that bounce on the screen whilst he types back. For some reason, you’re eager to see how he’ll respond to such name calling. Naturally, he lives up to it.

I look forward to receiving one of your late night texts, then, when you just can’t sleep because of the throbbing heat between your legs.

You pull a face at his vulgarity and set your phone down to close your eyes. But then… That throbbing heat between your legs disrupts your attempt to sleep.

You won’t text him. You won’t. 

So, you don’t, and you fall asleep completely unsatisfied. 

[meliorist-midoriya]

doki doki todoroki

synopsis: where todoroki’s first love blindsides him and he feels like the whole class is leaving him out of the loop. 

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff 

warnings: just todoroki being a clueless baby 

a/n: hello! aaaa this is entirely self-indulgent, but it’s my first post! i saw “doki doki todoroki” float around here somewhere and then this happened hjsdhjdhj. anyway, hope you enjoy!

He brushes it off the first time it happens, wrote it off as adrenaline from today’s sparring.

He brushes it off the second time. It was just a harmless scare after all, no shame in that.

He brushes it off the third time, the odd timing soon forgotten in favor of resuming his studies.

Todoroki doesn’t see the correlation for a while. How it was after seeing your exhilarated smile in the middle of a hard fight, after hearing you laugh once Mina startled him, after watching the triumphant smile on your face grow once he explained the problem to you.

He notices it the fourth, fifth, sixth time. Understandably, he’s confused. No amount of education or training would’ve prepared him for this. Nothing would’ve, other than hard-earned experience that he never got. Looking it up (as he found himself doing a lot these days the more he socialized) only earned him the definition of tachycardia and a grocery list of possible diagnoses ranging from anxiety to heart disease.

So much for the internet.

The ringing of the lunch bell pulled him out of his “research”, and he filed the thought away for later as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Later becomes three weeks.

Todoroki’s lost count at this point of how many times his heart suddenly went haywire, thudding against his ribs and sending blood rushing through his ears. How is world suddenly narrowed to just you whenever you spoke to him, and how he wanted to hear your voice again even though you had just stopped speaking. He finally drew the line once Midoriya pointed out his state of disarray at lunch.

“Todoroki-kun, are you sick? Your face is really red,” Midoriya had his chopsticks halfway to his mouth when he paused at the sight of Todoroki staring listlessly at his soba. Unbeknownst to him, Todoroki was too busy listening to you laugh at whatever Uraraka and Iida were talking about to focus on his soba. Hell, he couldn’t focus on anything lately and he had no idea why.

“Hm? Oh, yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No. He doesn’t voice this, and instead lets his Quirk pull the heat away from his cheeks for him as the air chills around him. Midoriya keeps watching him like he doesn’t believe him, but returns to his own lunch anyway.

“Hey, Todoroki, pfft- you have to listen to this. Iida just-” You don’t wait for his answer. You don’t have to. Todoroki finds himself hanging on to your every word anyway, smiling to himself (oh, the tiniest smile compared to yours. He doesn’t think anything will compare) as you struggle to recount your conversation without dissolving into giggles, Iida admonishing you for your loud laughter with an embarrassed flush.

Whatever this feeling is, he doesn’t mind, but he would like to know. He doesn’t notice Uraraka and Midoriya curiously watching the exchange, food forgotten. Nor does he notice Mina giggling with Hagakure as they nudged each other over the seats, dragging any of the class they could into their little whisper circle. The bell rings, and he already wishes you could’ve continued the story.

Later, you promise. He holds you to that.

Kaminari slings an arm over his shoulders in the locker room as they change into their hero costumes for afternoon classes, with Sero on his other side, and he stumbles from both shock and the added weight on him, his boot half-dangling from his foot.

“So, Todoroki-kun~” Kaminari’s lilting tone floating in from his right immediately sends his guard up, and he stared at him warily.

“How’s spring feeling for ya?” Sero continued from his left.

“…Isn’t it autumn right now?” Why were they talking about spring in the middle of October? Todoroki was too busy staring at Sero like he’d grown a second head to notice the collective silent groan ripple through the locker room.

“Oh my god, he really is clueless,” Kaminari whispers, Sero nodding along with a dumbstruck expression. He side-eyes them as he tugs his boot on the rest of the way, unamused. Clueless about what?

“Will he be okay?” It was Sero who spoke this time, completely ignoring the fact that they were having a conversation right over his head.

“I don’t know, man, he should be, right?”

“I’m literally right here. Did something happen?”

“A-Ah, nothing, nothing, just… checking up on you, you know?” As socially inept as he was, even he could recognize from a mile away that Kaminari was a terrible liar.

“…Why?” Okay, now he was really confused. He looked around the room to see if anyone could give him any hints, to no avail. Kirishima was too busy facepalming to notice his confusion, Ojiro was suddenly very interested in tying off his gi, and both Tokoyami and Bakugou were completely ignoring their antics. In a last attempt to figure out what the hell was even going on, he turned to Midoriya… who was trying to desperately look anywhere else other than at him. Something was up, and if Kaminari was involved, he didn’t have a good feeling about it.

“Y-You know, uh…” Kaminari was floundering for an answer, and sighed in relief once Iida came in to announce that they had five minutes to be ready. The pressure disappeared off his shoulders and Todoroki finished putting on the rest of his costume, the deep sense of unease tugging at the corner of his mind. There was something he wasn’t picking up on, and it felt like everyone but him knew.

He brushed it off to focus on class. Today was sparring day, after all, and Todoroki was partnered up with you. Maybe he’d see that smile again. The thought of it made fire lick at his fingers during the spar much quicker than usual.

He wasn’t disappointed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears even as the adrenaline fizzled out.

Tomorrow morning finds him face-to-face with a grinning Mina and an overexcited Hagakure outside the classroom before class starts, along with the answers to his plight way sooner than he expected. They had called out to him and, before he knew it, he was cornered against the window with their too-wide smiles beaming up at him, hungry for the romance gossip they had been chasing after all year. Or, well, he was pretty sure Hagakure was smiling, at least. Mina, on the other hand, resembled the Cheshire Cat too closely for his liking.

“You like Y/N, don’t you, Todoroki-kun?”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t?” To say he was confused was an understatement, but there’d been a lot of that lately so he just came to accept it. “Y/N is a good person with an impressive Quirk, so-”

“No, not like thaaat!” Mina wailed, and Todoroki blinked owlishly at the two girls as they both lamented the “densest pretty boy of UA”. Their words, not his. Did… did he say something wrong?

“Like what, then?”

“Ro-man-tic-al-ly!”

Todoroki bluescreened.

“Ro…man…?”

“Like, do you always end up looking at her whenever you’re in the same room?” Hagakure was practically vibrating from excitement, “Do you always want to listen to her or be near her? Or does your heart go ‘doki doki’ whenever you’re with her?!”

“Doki…doki?” Todoroki‘s brain, still rebooting from earlier, struggled to process the onslaught of information Hagakure was slamming him with. So far, however, all the answers he came up with were ‘Yes. Yes. A million times, yes’. “I… guess something’s been wrong with my heart lately? I looked it up and it said it was nothing to worry about, so-”

“Something’s not wrong, dummy! It’s love! And Y/N likes you back!” Mina exclaimed, and both her and Hagakure squealed as they celebrated finally having their first taste of high school romance, clasping hands and cheering.

“Doki doki Todoroki!” Hagakure cheered, Mina parroting her as they rode the high of their excitement. Meanwhile, Todoroki stared dumbly at the two girls in front of him, the dots slowly connecting in his mind. Everything was happening way too quick. And you liked him back? Wait, is that-

“Is that why Kaminari and Sero asked me how I was yesterday?”

“Ugh, that Kaminari~! He can’t even be subtle!” Todoroki could hear the pout in Hagakure’s voice, and Mina sighed and nodded in agreement. Well that answers that, at least. Now for the other million and one questions he had...

“So… what am I supposed to do now?”

“Confess!” Came Hagakure’s immediate response.

Well, that makes sense. Now that he has a grasp on what he’s feeling and he knows that you feel the same, it’s only logical that he should make them known.

“Okay, where is she?”

“In the classr-”

“Nuh-uh, hold it,” Mina stopped Todoroki from barging into the classroom, and he stared down at her, confusion mounting. Wasn’t she super excited just two seconds ago? What happened now?

“Minaaaa!” She ignored Hagakure’s impatient wail and poked him in the chest.

“You can’t just go in there and confess in the classroom in front of everybody!”

“…Why not?” He just had to tell you, so better sooner than later, right?

“Oh jeez, okay, um,” Mina pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think of a way to explain this to easily the densest person she had the pleasure of knowing. And she knew Kaminari, for Christ’s sake, “It isn’t as romantic if you just go in there and blurt it out in front of everybody, and it puts her on the spot too, would you want that?”

No, you hated being put on the spot. He shook his head and Mina sighed in relief.

“Okay, so, what you’re gonna do is…”

“Did you need to talk to me about something, Todoroki?”

Ah, there it was again. Could you hear his heart beating out of his chest from where you stood?

Classes had ended for the day and Mina had instructed him to confess after school at a specific spot (much to Hagakure’s chagrin, but she eventually agreed that it would be more romantic this way. Not like he knew what romantic looked like.) So, here he was, veering off your usual course from the dorms to this spot Mina had pointed out to him. It was where the trees broke just enough so the sunset could peek through the leaves. As inexperienced in, well, everything as he was, Todoroki had to admit Mina knew what she was talking about.

“Todoroki?”

The words he was told to recite sailed out the window the moment the time came, the light of the sunset casting you in a warm glow and God this wasn’t fair-

“…I like you.”

Oh, shit. Did he say that? Okay, yeah, he did. Oops.

He almost regrets it, but then he sees your lips bloom with a smile and the world goes quiet.

“I like you too, Todoroki.”

You crushed him in a hug and Todoroki wrapped his arms around you, smiling as he felt your own heart racing against his. His heart beating a mile a minute didn’t sound too bad anymore.

As long as it beat for you.

[fumingspice]

guardians

original work! im bored to death and i have nothing much to do so i guess maybe i could post this and see if people like it or not. mallorie whyte is sarah paulson 🤜👱🏻‍♀️

01 | oakwood academy

october 24th 2022

eli, ma. andromadex

-Madison

THE FINAL WORDS that Madison's stepmother Inez had jokingly yelled out the car window at her before she sped off to work were fairly sticking with her all throughout the day. She had driven at neck-breaking speed as she often had a habit of doing, and then braked so hard that she probably would have given any other passenger in the car a pretty bad whiplash, which Madison was convinced that Inez is immune to it by now, and then rolled down her window and told her; "y’know, if you want to actually make some friends you should really quit acting so bitchy."

Mind you, this was after she had gone on at her for days on end about being herself.

Madison was not opposed to making friends at this school. She wanted to. It's just so difficult when the fantastic, gold-crested reputation of your parents follows you around everywhere you go, and it's even worse when everyone else in your school completely matches that reputation.

To her, there's nothing worse than extra-cred class. She could promise you that. Especially when there are only fifteen more minutes left of the school day until the school bell rang sweet salvation and the students were released from the clutches school for another day. The classroom was decorated in crisp oranges, reds, yellows and browns; and the smothering scent of the ten-plus pumpkin spice candles could probably be smelt from miles away.

Madison's teacher, Ms. DuBois, was from Salem, and she loved nothing more than talking about witches in Salem. DuBois continued to rattle on about the executions that took place during the Salem Witch Trials of 1692- and since they were in Eli and not Salem, Madison could not fathom a single plausible reason as to why her extra-cred class had decided to adopt the Salem Witch Trials.

Oakwood Academy, Madison's new school, had managed to work its way to having one of the top academic records in America by providing an extra area of study for every year that a student attended. It was just one of the classes that would act as a "relaxer" for the workload that the Academy dumped on their students. They allocated five sets of twenty-five students to five different classes. For example; her older brother was allocated into a class that studied some of history's most famous serial criminals. The girl had been hit with a low-key pang of jealousy when she looked at his workbook, but she would never admit that.

Serial killer documentaries from Buzzfeed Unsolved was for her what World War II was to her brother Tiano.

Halfway through the class, Madison decided that Ms DuBois' babbles were nothing more than folklore and legends. There is no possible way that witches could exist, and even if they did; they would have become so sparsely spread out throughout the centuries that bloodlines would have become diluted into non-existence.

Madison had finally just about given up listening, getting ready to switch to her earphones when DuBois began talking about Gwendoline Proctor and Marie-Anne Dufosett. Judging by the amount of borderline useless word scrambles and pop quizzes that she had been bombarded with since August in which their names had popped up in, this would no doubt be just as bleak as the rest of the topic.

"Marie-Anne Dufosett was burned at the stake along with her mother and some other accused women-"

Well, that's just peachy.

"-However, does anybody know who accused Mademoiselle Dufosett of Witchcraft and Conspiring with the Devil?"

A few hands shot up. Oh, great, Madison thought, another room full of Hocus Pocus lovers.

DuBois picked on a boy at the back of the room wearing a black turtleneck underneath his blazer. "Perrone Goguillon," he answered.

Well, at least I know that instead of how to pay taxes.

Ms DuBois clapped her hands together and was about to praise him when Madison poked her head up and blurted out, "who in fresh hell is Peregrine Goujon?" The class burst into a peal of abrupt laughter and her face flashed a red that was possibly close to her burgundy uniform.

DuBois waited patiently for the laughter to die down, giving Madison a well-intended smile. She'd been trying to pry Madison out of her shell for weeks. "Miss Delvaux, I'm so happy that we've finally been graced with your conscious presence," she said. "Perrone Goguillon was one of the last witches to burnt at the stake in France."

What has that got to do with Salem?

There was a pause.

Turtleneck Boy piped up yet again. "Wasn't Perrone Marie-Anne's mother?"

Ms DuBois nodded, what followed probably should have been a moment for shock factor was cut short by Madison's unimpressive comment of; "Sounds like someone gained some serious mommy-issues."

Apart from a few smirks and sniggers, the room stayed in a star awkward silence. It was that moment when Madison had realised that making fun of witches in this classroom was possibly as close as you could get to treason.

The bell finally rang out before Madison could embarrass herself any further. She pulled on her coat and started speed-walking to get out of the school. She found listening to Toxic by Britney Speers always made her faster.

The crisp Massachusetts air stung at her cheeks hard, nipping at them until they were a hard red. The leaves crunched with a prominent sound and the wind blew quite fiercely. She hated fall- she missed the sweet Florida summer and sunshine that she had become so accustomed to. She missed splashing about in their swimming pool with her friends, sitting on her boyfriend's shoulders and having matches of pool basketball. They could get very competitive and Madison was certainly no stranger to having her head pushed underwater for the sake of one of her friends scoring a goal.

Her family had just moved to Massachusetts for her stepmother's work, as they often had moved around for that reason numerous times in the past. Inez worked with companies that were hanging on the edge of bankruptcy. A quick call to her office and she would work on the case as soon as possible. Most cases she could work on from home or online, but every few years a huge opportunity or promotion would come up that would require a move. It was always worth it. Inez was a wizard with a logbook and her incredible finances knowledge; she would advise the company and work with as many people as possible to save the company and boost its profits massively. 

The job also came with a pretty hefty paycheck. Inez had been in Madison's life for as long as the girl could recall memory.

Now that the latest- and hopefully final- addition to the Delvaux family had come, Madison's father spent most of his time at home taking care of baby Thomas. In contrast to Inez, Madison's father came from a long line of "old" money; decades ago, his family was incredibly wealthy Franco-Belgian gold merchants, owning around 40% of the most flourishing gold mines in Belgium and France of which together bestowed them with a huge amount of the finest Belgian gold. Although the number of which lowered to about 750 tons of gold, the family net worth was still well into the billions.

Madison's father broke away from the complete gold-mine owning tradition and earned a job as a professor of physics in certain prestigious colleges across the country, although, there were still plenty of goldmines still to his name.

However, despite their needless fortune, most of the family, along with Inez, managed to stay incorrupt, helping to build many schools, hospitals and jobs in developing countries and donating thousands of millions of dollars to charities, side-lining with the Delvaux-Proveux Foundation to help create a better society with whatever difference they could cause.

Her parents did their best to remain humble- which sometimes proved itself difficult when the next five generations of their family could probably eat from solid gold plates if they chose to.

Needless to say, they spent only what they needed to, didn't exploit their riches, lived in the slightly more luxurious suburban homes. Madison was sent to Oakwood Academy; possibly the most unnecessarily expensive school in the north-east of America along with her adopted older brother Tiano and her adopted little sister Safina; the second youngest, Aleja went to an elementary not far from their home, and baby Thomas just did his best not to poop his pants straight after his diaper had been changed. Madison was convinced he did his best to poop at the worst possible time.

The house they had recently moved into was a beautiful country mansion, overlooking a lake and meadows, the balcony that showed a complete view of the landscape was perhaps Madison's favourite part of the house- apart from her bed of course.

She walked briskly up the pathway leading to the front door, doing her best to not show that she was absolutely freezing to death despite the massive coat. No sooner had she got in the door that she turned the heater on full blast and ran upstairs, diving into her bed.

Inconveniently, she was now too warm.

Madison rolled her eyes and then rolled out of bed with a slight thud, ran downstairs, lowered the heating, then ran back upstairs again- now at a slightly more satisfactory temperature. Her phone began to buzz; an incoming facetime from her friends back in Florida.

Madison jumped up promptly, fixing her hair and trying to make it look like she wasn't considering an attempt at home-made abseiling down the wall beneath her window. She accepted the call and lo and behold the screams and squeals of five of her best friends burst from the phone from on the other side of the country. Meghan, the girl in front and centre, called out Madison's name with an ear-piercing screech.

"Woah, Woah. Calm down, Meghan I'm not hoping to go deaf anytime soon," she muttered, pretending to be annoyed, making a particular fuss of changing the settings on her hearing aid. Meghan playfully rolled her eyes and began talking over the other girls. 

"Oh, shut up, Maddie. How's Massachusetts? Find any cute warlocks that we need to come out and see?" She asked. 

"Meghan, this place is amazing and beautiful- there's so many other things here than witches and warlocks and Harvard's array of nerds," she said, pretending she didn't want to hop on her tricycle and go home. 

To be truthful, it was obvious that Meghan could see straight through the blatant lie. 

"Well, if you say so, babes. Give us a tour of your house! We need to see chez Madison after stalking it for an hour on Google Maps."

Madison gave a hearty chuckle. "Well, if you insist."

Madison began her own rendition of a virtual tour around her house, showing everything from the luxury bathrooms to the heated pool in the basement. The ooooooo's and ahhhhhhhhh's were constant. The house was beautiful- that was undeniable. However, the crowning glory of the house was a massive stain-glass window depicting a woman by the lake.

"The realtors said that the builder of the house had it built in 1876 to memorialize the women persecuted and killed during the witch trials," Madison said, admiring the beautiful display of colours on the floor from the sun shining through the window. 

"That's cheery." 

That's typical Meghan.

"Now, more important than your sexy house; are you or are you not coming to prom?" Meghan asked, expectantly.

Madison shrugged, "I'm not sure, we only just got here, and I don't think my parents would want me flying across the country all by myself."

Meghan let out a slightly satisfied sigh. "So, does that mean Dylan is now free for me to take as my date?"

Madison gritted her teeth hard. Only forever has Meghan been trying to steal Dylan away from her. "Sure, as long as it's just as friends," she answered, fully emphasizing the word "friends".

Meghan laughed emptily. "Well, how else would I be taking him? Trust me, Maddie baby, if I wanted Dylan so bad, I would've gotten him months ago." There was a coy smile and awkward glances shared by the others.

Madison bit her tongue.

"Yeah?" She called out into the empty house. "Coming now, Nez!" She looked back at the screen, told them, "talk later, gals, Nez wants me to help her in the basement," and hung up without waiting for a response, already knowing that Meghan would be commenting on how strange she was acting.

Madison and Meghan had been stuck to each other's waist since pre-school, grew up in close neighborhoods, and had practically been raised together. One time, Madison's family took Meghan to Disney Land, then straight to Universal Studios after. To say they were spoiled rotten in childhood because of the Delvaux family wealth was an understatement. It was only now approaching adult years was Meghan taking full advantage of her best friend's wealth- hinting off about getting her into Yale or Harvard, Madison smiled and nodded when she brought these things up, knowing full well Meghan didn't hold enough brain cells to even use a dishwasher.

The jangle of keys and the opening of the door sounded from downstairs. "The party's home! Maddie honey, you here?" Inez called, audibly struggling with grocery bags. "Coming!" she called back, skipping down the stairs two steps at a time. Inez relieved herself of one of the six bags she had carried from the car. 

"When are you going to learn to walk down the stairs without the risk of breaking your damn neck?" she asked, walking to the kitchen and setting half of the bags on the counter, and doing the same with Maddie's bags. Madison laughed and shook her head, "when we confirm that the birds don't work for the bourgeoisie." 

Inez rolled her eyes and pulled Madison into a hug. "Well, in that case, I may as well buy a neck brace and put the hospital on speed dial."

Madison gave a real laugh this time and pulled away, throwing a damp washcloth at Inez's face. "Megan facetimed me earlier with Linda, Karlie, Houston, Seoul and London.

Inez pulled a face, "yeah, and how did that turn out?" Madison sighed, "she asked me if she could take Dylan to prom."

Her stepmom stopped unpacking and lurched into deep thought. "Why are all your friends named after cities?" Madison was about to continue when she stopped to think about the question. 

"Back to the topic, Nez."

Inez’s eyes widened in shock. "She did not, did she?" Madison nodded carefully, bracing herself for Inez launching into a huge monologue, as she often did when something morally wrong happened. "After everything that we've done for that girl- everything that you've done for that girl, this is how she repays you?" Inez barely stopped to breathe. "She has known about our plans to move here since last Summer! The sneaky little bug kept this behind your back and knew it would be safe to tell you that she was going to steal Dylan from you as soon as you were a safe distance away-"

Madison promptly stopped her, knowing this could and would go on all night. "I'm not as bothered as I should be, Nez. Dylan and I were drifting even before the move. I think this is just my final sign that we just aren't meant to be- God, I always knew nothing serious would become of Dylan and me," she admitted, sipping on a diet coke that Inez had just slid down the countertop. Her stepmother pursed her lips, her incredible dark brown eyes glazing over as they always did when she fell deep into thought, as Madison often admired them doing so when she was trying to find a solution to a particularly difficult business situation, then, within seconds, bounced back out of it once again.

Inez presented an envelope to Madison, addressed to her. "Well, this might bring your spirits up at least," she placed in front of Madison. "I just know it is what it is."

Madison's jaw dropped as she read the letter.

Months ago, while they still lived in Florida, Madison's tutor convinced her to take part in a writing competition. The competition was hosted by one of New York's most prestigious publication companies, namely by their founder; Mallorie Whyte, possibly one of the most sought after and revered journalists in the Western Hemisphere. Madison completely worshipped the woman. Whyte being a first generation French American was the main factor in inspiring Madison to learn the language; not for the benefit of her Senegalese brother.

But he did not need to know that.

Inez spoke again, mainly just to make sure that Madison hadn't become paralyzed from shock. "Is she telling you to buy a damn dictionary or was your spelling fine?” Inez teased. There was no response, but Madison was finished reading, and Inez became heart-scared that she would lick the page.

Madison was dumbfounded for a few more seconds. "I got first place in the contest. She wants me to come to New York and meet her! Bloody hell, she thinks I could help her out with new ideas?" Maddie took another break before screaming the house down. "The Mallorie Whyte wants me because she thinks I could help her-"

She completely froze up in shock, her frightened stepmother running behind her in case she fell backwards. "Three weeks?!" Madison screeched, loud enough to wake up the dead. Inez almost jumped from her skin, laughing when she recovered.

"Three weeks, Maddie! We have plenty of time," she attempted to reason, even though trying to calm Madison down when she was as excited as this was next to impossible.

Madison looked highly offended. "Three weeks? Do you see the state of this house? It needs to be perfect!"

The house was next to gleaming spotless.

Inez rolled her eyes and tugged Madison's belt loop as she was about to run into the hall. In her lifetime, she had met many people that she could consider crazy, but no one came as close to her stepdaughter when she was fangirling over Mallorie Whyte. "Yes, honey that's all well and good," Inez said, attempting to calm down the lunatic in front of her, "but in the meantime, I want you to tidy your bedroom, do your homework and do some studying."

Madison nodded obediently, grabbed her Cola, and ran upstairs, careful not to spill anything on the grey carpet. The fragrance of her apple blossom burning in an incense bowl wafted around the room, and her speaker was set to play music from her playlist when it detected motion in the room. The past few moments of excitement had wiped what had happened before the letter out of her mind.

Dylan.

Meghan had practically taken Dylan away from her- not that she cared, not now anyway. Mallorie freakin' Whyte had sent her a handwritten letter for Christ's sake, she wasn't going to be moping over a boy that her supposed best friend has had her eyes on for months. She had known since before announcing the move that the boy was falling under Meghan's spell, she had seen it; the messages, the winks and the giggles, the almost-too-close kiss under the stairway. She was never ignorant to the fact that there was something between Dylan and Meghan going on behind her back- they were both horrible liars and barely tried to cover it up- she just did her best to pretend nothing had happened.

It's not as if she wasn't the jealous type- she used to be- Dylan had been around most of her friendship group while she was crushing on him. She had just grown an indifference to seeing him flirt with other girls. She had grown used to it.

The notification of her computer sounded, distracting herself from her slightly depressing thoughts. It was an email notification, from Mallorie Whyte herself. Madison almost fainted at the sight of it. Not only had she just received a written letter, but she had also taken time to contact online. Madison caught her breath at the possibility of having a conversation with this woman three weeks before they met, she opened the email, scanning every word;

Madison,

I apologize for reaching out to you in such an informal manner, but I just couldn't wait to get into correspondence with you sooner! Your entry into our contest here at Whyte’s Journalism and Publications utterly rocked my soul at the core, your work blooms amazingly at your young age.

The reason I picked your entry was that after many hours of reading and re-reading hundreds of thousands of entries, I realized that yours spoke to me in a way that no other one did. The beauty of your language and knowledge of how our world and society works touched me in a way no other did- heart-breaking, yet somehow warming, in the same way, to know that there are still people in this world who still have a love for life.

I noted in your information folder that Halloween was your least favourite holiday- a complete juxtaposition of my own opinion. Samhain is the best time of year- and I am excited to spend this glorious time of year with you and your family starting next weekend, as I've just finished sorting arrangements with Ms. Inez.

Best regards and wishes, and excitement to meet you,

Mallorie Whyte.

Inez smiled to herself from downstairs, setting her drink down and running up the stairs having heard the rather obvious sound of Madison's delighted squeal and subsequent crash on the floor.

[lunar-jimin]

i don’t want to fall in love, if he won’t be here next year

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, wee bit of angst

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: pg-13

Warnings: feelings, soft kookie, swearing, kissing

Summary: The universe was evil to make you spend Christmas Eve alone with your best friend who you definitely are not in love with. 

A/N: This is for the lovely @namluve​ through @btswriterscollective​ Secret Santa project! Happy holidays, love! Sorry that it’s at the later end of the posting period, but I hope you enjoy!

“For fuck’s sake Jungkook, can’t you unzip your own damn pants?”

“It’s not my fault they got stuck,” he whined, back arched awkwardly as he attempted to see what he was doing, “and I can’t see it because the zipper is in the fucking back.”

You sigh. The mall had started using Santa suits with the zipper in the back after some curious kid showed off Jimin’s candy cane boxers to the entirety of the shopping center last year. Now, your unfortunate best friend had managed to get the damn thing stuck.

“Move,” you frown, taking the zipper from him. You wiggled it back and forth a couple times before it finally moved down the rest of its track.

“Oh, thank god, I thought I was gonna be stuck in these forever.”

“God, you’re so overdramatic. It’s a wonder you make it through the day without me babying you every step of the way.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. You were the one who almost burnt down the kitchen making ramen.”

You roll your eyes.

“Whatever.”

You continue to strip yourself of your itchy elf dress and the god awful red and white striped tights to match. It takes everything in you not to glance over at Jungkook who is now inevitably just in a muscle tee and tight black underwear.

So what, your best friend was one of the prettier humans to ever grace this planet? You were a grown woman. You had self-control. And you definitely didn’t want him to bend you over this sticky locker room bench and fuck you into the next century. You don’t even need to think about the fact that you were maybe, kinda, sorta, totally, irreversibly in love with him.

“So it’s just you and me tonight, huh?” his voice is less agitated, now that he’s free of his confines.

You snuck a glance and were happy to find him in matching grey sweatpants and sweatshirt. Still deadly hot, but your panties would stay dry. For now.

“Yeah, I suppose. I’m gonna miss our holiday ragers.”

Normally, you would spend Christmas Eve getting black-out drunk with your friends. This year, however, most of them were going home to their families or had started families of their own. Which left you and Jungkook alone with each other for the first time in years.

You were nervous. And you hated that. There was no reason why you should feel like throwing up at the prospect of spending an evening with your best friend. You had done this a million times, why was this time so special? Maybe it’s because you can’t remember the last time you spent more than two hours alone with him.

Ever since Jungkook started dating some girl from his animation class last year, the time the two of you spent together had decreased drastically. You couldn’t blame him, everyone around you was finding themselves in long-term relationships, excited to build a future now that college was almost over. He was just doing the same, and for a while, you thought she would be the one (a thought that left you crying in your bed for a week). You’re embarrassed to admit how pleased you were when Jungkook arrived at your doorstep four months ago, piss drunk at three in the morning to tell you she had cheated on him.

That was the last time you had spent a decent chunk of time and he was either crying or asleep for most of it. But now, here you were, following Jungkook to his beat-up Toyota Corolla, with the intent to spend the night with him. And while he hadn’t shown so much as the slightest hint that he may share your feelings, you couldn’t help but hope.

Three hours later, your nerves have been calmed by the half-a-bottle of wine you’ve downed. Your face is warm, but the spot on your thigh where his hand rests is warmer. Jungkook had convinced you to watch the Holidate despite your better judgment, and now you wanted to bleach your eyes.

“I can’t believe we watched that,” you groan into his shoulder, “I should be able to sue the production company for the two hours of my life that just got wasted.”

Jungkook lets out a buzzed giggle at your complaint, body shaking lightly next to yours.

“It was terrible,” he agreed, “but Seokjin said it was good.”

“Jin has a terrible taste in movies, and you know it.”

“True.”

He turned to look at you, little sparkles in his doe eyes as he gave you the sweetest smile. Your stomach flips.

“So, what do you want to watch?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“Do we really have to?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love Die Hard just as much as me,” you slap him playfully, “besides, you know you’re going to make me watch Love Actually after this.”

“Whatever.”

“You know it’s true, Kookie. We all know you’re a hoe for Bruce.”

“Am not.”

“If you want to live in denial, who am I to stop you.”

Despite his vehement denial of loving the movie, Jungkook quoted nearly the whole damn thing. If it weren’t for his adorable ‘yippee-ki-yay motherfucker’, you probably would’ve smacked him.

“You didn’t have to quote the entire thing,” you grumble.

“Sorry.”

He looks up at you with his doe eyes and you melt.

“It’s fine, just don’t do it with Love Actually. It’s confusing enough as it is without you talking over it.”

“I won’t, I won’t. Just admit to me you actually love the movie though.”

“I really don’t see the appeal.”

“How can you not see the appeal? It’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“Yeah, but it’s confusing with all the different stories and I don’t understand British people at all. Also, as a single person, it’s incredibly painful.”

“How is it painful?”

“Because I want someone to fall in love with and cuddle me throughout the holidays.”

“You have me, you know?”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Kookie.”

“What do you mean?”

He’s grinning cheekily, completely aware of how uncomfortable his question makes you. You may be in love with him, but that does not stop you from thinking he’s a little shit sometimes.

“I want, you know, a partner, someone who’ll take me on dates, and kiss me, and do other things.”

“What other things?”

“Jeon Jungkook, you know what I’m talking about.”

Despite being best friends with Jungkook since the pair of you were in pull-ups, you had never felt comfortable talking about sex with him, even before you realized your feelings. You just hadn’t had a lot of experience, limited to a few boyfriends, and the subject wasn’t one you were comfortable with. Luckily, it was a topic Jungkook hadn’t brought up. Until now.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you just want a holiday fuck buddy.”

You smack his bicep, but don’t respond. Neither does he, simply turning to the screen before him and pressing play.

You’ll never admit it to Jungkook, but you do quite enjoy the movie. Sure it was a little painful to watch a ten-year-old have a more successful love life than yourself, but the storytelling was good. By the time the credits were rolling, you were only a little embarrassed to admit there were a few tears in your eyes.

When you looked over at Jungkook, you were surprised to find a downcast face.

“Is everything alright, Kookie?”

He looks back at you and you were surprised to find tears running down his cheek.

“Oh gosh, Kook, what happened?”

He remains silent, only taking your hand in his, thumb gently rubbing over your skin. His eyes stare down at where your palms meet, and despite your best friend’s apparent distress, you can’t help but notice the warm tingles radiating from his touch. With your free hand, you reach up to brush the tears from his cheek, a pout forming on your lips.

“It’s just,” he sighs, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes, “it’s just, I want it to, you know.”

You tilt your head to the side confused.

“What are you talking about Kook?”

“What you were saying earlier, about the cuddling and dates and shit. I want it too.”

“Oh, Kookie.”

You pull him into, clasping his neck as he buries his nose in your shoulders. You want so badly to tell him that he can have it. He can have all of it and more. With you. But you know now is not the time for confessions.

He pulls his head back to look at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“What is it Kookie?”

He looks down at this lap and then back up at you.

“I don’t want it with just anyone.”

“Well of course not, you’d want it with someone who can love and cherish you just as much as you love and cherish them.”

A dull ache in your heart was beginning to grow. He was so close to being yours, lips only inches away. But yet it seemed a mile still remained between the two of you.

“That’s not what I mean.”

You are once again sent hurling back into confusion.

“Well then what do you mean?”

“I want,” he falters, breathing unsteady like a fish out of water. He grabs your hands again, holding them tightly as if he was afraid you’d slip away. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind only just beginning to grasp onto what was happening. Part of you refused to believe, refused to hope, less you were wrong.

“I want you.”

His voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear, but the words were there. You felt your body tense up, shocks running up and down your spine, sirens wailing in your head. You had hoped for this moment for months, no, years, and here you were, and you were totally unsure what to do with yourself.

When you don’t respond, he pulls away and turns to face the TV.

“I’m sorry,” you see him wince in an attempt to stop the tears that are forming in his eyes, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget that I ever opened my mouth.”

“Kookie I…”

He turns to look at you and you can’t help yourself. His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about during lonely nights. He responds immediately to your kiss, mouth forming against yours as his hands come to cup your jaw softly. Soft glowing warmth radiates throughout you and you are no longer sure whether the tears you feel on your cheeks are his or yours.

You pull away and look into his eyes and at once you recognize the twinkle dancing in them.

Love. Adoration.

He didn’t need to say the words. They were already there. Unspoken. Filling the small space between his body and yours. Radiating throughout the room.

He grabs your waist and swings your body over his so that he is slotted between his thighs. Your hair falls down around you as he stares up at you, his eyes telling you everything you’d ever need to know.

“Will you be mine?”

You nod before leaning down and pecking his lips. You want more than anything in this world to be his.

“I love you, Kookie.”

His eyes go wide, body stiff beneath yours. He slowly lifts a hand up to brush the hair out of your face.

“I love you too.”

A year later, you walk back into the living room with two glasses of wine in your hands to find him down on one knee.

[jawritter]

Promised

Chapter 7

**Series Warnings!! ** ABO dynamics! Smut, unprotected smut, knotting, claiming, mating, heat, rut, language, overly protective Jensen, age gap! 19-year-old reader, 41-year-old Jensen, virgin reader, loss of virginity, sort of an arranged marriage, hint at possible mob type settings.

Story Description:

In a world where your presentation can be a blessing or a curse, a newly presented Omega will come face to face with the harsh reality of Alphas, Omegas, and pack alliances that are expected to be upheld with the union of your two families…

A/N: Pt.7!!! Please don’t copy my stuff! Feedback is welcomed! If you want to be added to the series tag list, or just my tag list in general let me know! Cross-posted on Wattpad! Hope you enjoy it!! This is my first ABO series so be nice lmao!

Missed it so far? Catch up!!

************ Promised Series Masterlist **********

It took you about three weeks to get fully settled into your new environment, and of course, Jensen was more patient than you would have ever dreamed an Alpha would be. Giving you plenty of space. Letting you gain some independence, but never really getting out of arm's length. Which was comforting more than you ever wanted to admit to yourself? 

He’d been teaching you how to do things on your own. Like buy groceries, pick up the dry cleaning, doing things around the house that a normal housewife would do. He said he could hire people to come in and do things like that so you didn’t have to, but if you were being completely honest with him and yourself you like the normalcy of it all. It was something you never had. He taught you how to do laundry, and what he liked to eat. You learned pretty quickly that you liked cooking. 

Jensen told you that you could have social media if you wanted to, but you honestly didn’t feel the need for it. You didn’t really want to admit it to him, but you were a little afraid of social media, to be honest. You knew Jensen was famous for the series Supernatural that he was in for 15 years. Which you had taken to watching when you have free time. You thought it was interesting to see Jensen so young. You even watched a few movies that he was in when he was closer to your age. 

All that though just made you more, and more afraid to be on social media. You knew from talking to Gen, who had become more of a friend to you than you expected, that people on there could be mean, and cruel, and you just didn’t want that kind of negativity. Jensen didn’t seem to mine your offput mindset to it. He didn’t really like it either. Only had it because it was sort of a requirement for his job. 

Since he had claimed you though he didn’t seem to like leaving the house or being away from you to far. He had taken more to working on his music, something that had become a sort of an outlet for him, and you never get tired of hearing him. 

It had taken you a little longer than you expected for you to get used to the amount of freedom Jensen offered you. Just three days ago Gen had wanted you to go out and get your nails done with her. You were afraid to ask him to go, even though you wanted to, he practically shoved you two out the door. He had plans to go golfing with Jared that day and was always pushing for you to get out and do something you enjoy. 

It was the night you looked forward to though. When the day had finally come to a close. When the doors were locked, and the lights went out. His lips on yours, his big warm hands roaming your body, his strong arms holding you close while the two of you slept. Bodies still locked together. His knot buried deep inside of you. Connected on a level you never even knew existed and really don’t even understand. You fell more and more in love with Jensen every day you were together, especially at night….

Leaning over to pace Jensen’s diner in the oven your mind a million miles away from where you were standing in the kitchen. You heard the front door close. His scent entered the room before you really saw him. As always. 

You listened as his footsteps made their way to you where you were in the kitchen. When you saw him you knew immediately something was off. He wasn’t his usual cuddly self but kept his distance staring at you across the bar island in the kitchen. Both his hands leaning on the counter. A square box in one hand. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I tried to get us out of this, I really did.” 

Your heart rate jumped up to an unbelievable speed in your throat. Fear gripping the corners of your subconscious. An uneasy feeling coming off your Alpha you had never felt before. Sitting you on edge. 

“Get us out of what?” 

Jensen made his way across the room to where you were standing, box left unopened on the island. His arms wrapping around you, pulling you as tightly to his chest as possible, burying his face in your neck and scenting you deeply. He was looking for some form of comfort and trying to keep his own emotions in check. 

Not lifting his head from your neck he began to speak, his voice so low at first that you weren’t even sure that he was talking to you.

“My dad called me today while I was at the studio working. They are going to set my brother Josh up to take over as pack leader once my father passes away because I forfeited the right when I refused to move us into the estate with my family. Which I knew. It’s what I wanted. The only problem is that we are required to come to the ceremony that will be held to announce my brother as air as to Ackles family estate, and the family business.” he paused for a moment, giving you time to catch up.  

You and Jensen had disgusted your family over the past three weeks. You saw now just how unhealthy and abusive your relationship with your family really was, and you decided you didn’t want any part of it. You wanted to do just like your Alpha and walk away, create a life for yourselves. Grow old together. If you ever did have pups you didn’t want them to grow up in that life. It’s something, to be honest, you wanted to forget about completely. Now here it was. You were going to have to make your first public ‘family’ appearance with Jensen. 

He could feel your body tense underneath his hold and he kissed your neck softly. His warm, soft lips making a trail over your claiming mark in an attempt to try to calm you.

“Do we have to say at the estate? Or just for the Ceremony?” you asked, your own voice barely above a whisper.

“Just the ceremony then we can leave…. Y/N, your parents will be there,” he said looking at you for the first time.

“Y/N, if there was a way out of this, I would take it. I’ve tried. I’ve been arguing on the phone with my father for over an hour. I don’t want to bring my Omega in a room full of Alphas, that think it’s okay to treat their mates like slaves. I’m not okay with bringing you back in that. I will protect you Omega. They won’t be able to touch you.” 

His lips softly grazed your forehead as you nuzzled into his chest. You could feel the anxiety rolling off of him. 

You knew what he was referring to. Not all the Alphas in either the Ackles clan or yours thought old school formalities were needed concerning Omegas, and if you were claimed you were claimed into the clan… Meaning any Alpha could have you, as long as they were part of the pack. 

Reaching over to the island Jensen grabbed the box and handed it to you.

“As you know in these types of formal events it’s custom to have the Omegas wear these..”

Opening the box your stomach churned a little. You had read about these. Even seen your mother and the other Omegas wear them. At one time you would have been excited to be asked to adorn one. Now though, having been away from it all; you noticed just how disgusting and degrading these things really were.

Inside the box was a, I’ll be it beautiful for what it was, claiming collar. It was a golden linked chain with small diamonds laid around it, and Jensen’s initials engraved into the side. It had his scent on it as well. 

“I would never ask you to wear it, you know that, and when this is over you can go throw that fucking thing in the fireplace,” Jensen said. Looking down at the box with pure disgust. 

Closing the box you lay it on the counter behind him. 

“Once this is over Jensen we’re free. I’m not looking forward to this either, but it’s worth the little bit of trouble we have to go through, and one uncomfortable evening with the two packs for a lifetime of freedom isn’t it.” You ran your hands through his hair that was already sticking up everywhere. Probably from him running his hands through it with frustration over and over again. 

Jensen melted into your touch. At that moment you noticed something that you had never noticed with Jensen before. 

Normally he was a strong, independent Alpha. Aside from the playfulness, the fact that he was the most caring Alpha you had ever seen. Even more so with you. He had a big heart. He would go out of his way to help complete strangers in the grocery store that were struggling to load their groceries for God’s sake! 

You never saw anything that really bothered him. Not until this. He almost seemed…. Vulnerable. It hit you then. There were times, that even though he liked to act like nothing ever got to him. The big strong Alpha that man, that he definitely was, he needed reassurance and someone to take care of him from time to time too.

He pulled you closer to him. The two of you just standing there in the kitchen holding on to each other like nothing else mattered. Like if you held on to each other tight enough, then this would all go away, and you would be safe again. Just the two of you.

“Your father, he’s going to be livid,” Jensen said. Scenting you. Looking for the comfort you were giving him. Searching deeper. This was it. This is what he didn’t want to talk to you about.

“Why would my father be angry? We mated. You claimed me. I was given to you just like I was promised… Why would he have any reason to be angry?” You ask. Confusion clouding you.

“Well y/n the thing is. Even though we upheld the union between the families ultimately kept the peace and staved off what would basically be a civil war in all of South Texas. Me not taking my father’s position upon his passing, and turning down the role as pack leader made your father lose his title. See even though it held off the feud. Because I turned it down, and you are not a pack leader’s Omega, he lost his rank in your pack. They ousted him, and gave the role of Pack Leader to your Uncle David and his family.” He said pulling away to search your eyes. 

You stared back at him, confused at first. Not sure what to do… How to make sense of what Jensen was telling. Your father was demoted…. He was no longer the pack leader…

“What’s going to happen to my family?” You asked. Afraid for your sisters. They had been through so much too, and they weren’t lucky enough to have a strong Alpha to protect them from your father’s rath. You knew Jensen was right about one thing. He would be livid.

“From what my father told me was that the pack gave them a nice estate out in the country. He still has a pretty high rank don’t get me wrong, and he will be taken care of. It’s just… the shame that came with the demotion he didn’t take well..” 

You stood there as fear gripped your every fiber of your being. He was going to be at this party, and he was going to be livid. You didn’t know for the first time in your life what his reaction would be to you. You were no longer under his control, but Jensen’s that was a game-changer for sure, but would it be enough? 

You buried your face into your Alpha’s neck, scenting him deeply. Letting his scent surround you. Warming you from the inside out. Calming you in a way that made all the unpleasantries and uncertainties not matter anymore. He smelled stronger than usual. Making your stomach quiver a little. Tentative you reach up and lick at his neck. Pulling the low purr from him that you loved to hear so much. 

“What do you smell so strong today Alpha? I noticed it when you left the shower this morning.”

Jensen took a deep breath. Calming himself and you. Brushing your lips with his lightly. It was things like that. The simple little displays of affection that made you weak for him. Made you fall harder and harder for the handsome green-eyed Alpha. That was currently clinging to you like a drowning man. 

“I’m probably about a week out from my rut. That’s what makes this worse. Stress can bring it on early. I DO NOT want to go into rut at this fucking ceremony. I wanted to be home with you when we went through this the first time together. Not have to settle for being in some fucking hotel room.” 

Well shit. That was a game-changer. You had been a little nervous for Jensen’s first rut to strike since his claiming you, but now. With it very much an impending reality you really wanted to be home to. Somewhere you both felt safe. 

“When do you have to leave?”

“Tomorrow… It’s tomorrow night…”

Tag List:

@deanwanddamons​  @imabitch4jensen​  @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​

Promised Series Tag List:

@spnfamily-j2​  @stoneyggirl​ @onethirstyunicorn​  @bloo-moon-freak​  @musiclovinchic93​  @perpetualabsurdity​ @theoneandonlymelol​

[aion-rsa]

Shadow and Bone Review: Netflix Adaptation Brings the Magic

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This Shadow and Bone review contains no spoilers.

Millions of readers worldwide love young adult fantasy fiction, but even the most wildly popular titles—Sarah J. Maas’s Throne of Glass series, Cassandra Clare’s Shadowhunters books, Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy, and many more—are generally written off as “guilty pleasure” escapism, shallow, meaningless stories for people who just aren’t ready to take real literature seriously. (Barf.)

Part of this reaction likely stems from the widespread public backlash to the few young adult fantasy series to gain mainstream popularity, like the Twilight saga or the aforementioned Hunger Games. But, in truth, the dismissive attitude toward these stories most often feels like straight-up misogyny. After all, this is a genre that not only tends to be most openly appreciated by women but also one that unabashedly centers complex female characters in its stories. Often several of them at the same time!

Therefore, the arrival of Netflix’s Shadow and Bone is exciting enough for its own sake: It’s a propulsive story with great characters set in a fascinating, fully realized fantasy world. But it’s also something of a statement: That this sort of fiction—and the women who both champion and most frequently star in it—have an important place in the world of genre storytelling. And, thankfully, this is a series that more than lives up to the pre-release hype.

Leigh Bardugo’s bestselling Grishaverse novels are full of the sorts of details that tend to make for great fantasy television at its most basic level. There’s a war-torn kingdom battling both foreign enemies and an ever-expanding literal darkness, a complex system of magic that both empowers and alienates those who possess it from the bulk of society, and a girl looking for a place to belong who must ultimately claim her own power. (Quite literally in this case.)

Read more

TV

Shadow and Bone: Why Netflix Cast Its Fantasy Adaptation With Relative Unknowns

By Kayti Burt

Books

Twilight: What Was The Deal With Jacob and Renesmee?

By Nicole Hill

In the kingdom of Ravka, elite magical soldiers known as Grisha can manipulate matter at its most fundamental levels, allowing their orders to control specific elements like fire (Inferni) and water (Tidemakers), solid objects like metal or textiles (Durasts), and even various aspects of the human body (Healers and Heartrenders). The primary story of Shadow and Bone follows Alina Starkov (Jessie Mei Li), an orphaned soldier and map maker whose mixed-race heritage has often left her feeling out of place in the only country she’s ever known. (The decision to complicate Alina’s racial background is one made specifically for the Netflix series, by the way, and it’s a great choice.) But when her childhood best friend Malyen Oretsev (Archie Renaux) is named as part of a military unit ordered to cross the deadly Shadow Fold —literally a giant wall of darkness full of monsters that’s hundreds of miles wide—she unleashes a power she never realized she herself possessed. Alina, you see, is not just a Grisha, but a legendary Sun Summoner, whose powerful light-based magic could destroy the Fold forever.

Whisked off by the mysterious General Kirigan (Ben Barnes), the commander of Ravka’s Second Army—a.k.a. the one with all the Grisha in it—to learn to use her newfound abilities, Alina finds herself separated from Mal and everything she’s ever known. Thrust into a world she doesn’t understand and with powers she can’t entirely control, Alina will have to decide whether to trust Kirigan, with his equally rare shadow-based abilities and promises that they can change the world together.

The Netflix drama actually combines two of Bardugo’s book series into one—the fantasy adventure trilogy also titled Shadow and Bone, from which this adaptation takes its name and the bulk of its plot, and the more heist-oriented duology called Six of Crows. Since the latter technically takes place several years after the former, chronologically speaking, the Netflix series invents a prequel plot for key Six of Crows characters Kaz Brekker (Freddy Carter), Inej Ghafa (Amita Suman), Jesper Fahey (Kit Young), and Nina Zenik (Danielle Galligan) that ties them all more firmly into the main Shadow and Bone story.

If you’ve read Bardugo’s books, your mileage is likely to vary on how you feel about this choice. For the most part, it works, even if it takes several episodes for the Crows crew to feel like they aren’t having a completely different adventure on a totally different show. Jesper and Inej particularly benefit from the additional backstory provided here, and Galligan’s Nina is every inch as delightful as anyone might have hoped. Viewers who have not read Six of Crows may struggle to understand precisely what motivates Kaz, but his complicated relationship with Inej is almost compelling enough to make up for it.

In fact, one of the most striking elements of Shadow and Bone is the care it takes with all its central relationships—potentially romantic or otherwise. One of the criticisms most frequently leveled at popular YA fiction is that their stories are often flimsy excuses to create love triangles for fans to fight over. (See also: Gale/Katniss/Peeta, Edward/Bella/Jacob, etc.) But this series actually goes above and beyond in this department, adding a depth and nuance to Alina’s relationship with Mal that isn’t always present in the novel—and has nothing to do with romance. (Though, reader, I ship it a lot.) That same care and thoughtfulness is applied to pairings throughout the show’s canvas, and it’s truly wonderful to see.

Netflix has also clearly spared no expense in its creation of Bardugo’s fictional world, from the dense, crowded streets of Ketterdam to the magic-filled training grounds of Os Alta’s Little Palace. This is a universe that not only feels carefully thought out but fully lived in. Sure, Shadow and Bone might have done a better job of explaining the specifics about how these locations all relate to one another (Kerch is actually a separate country! West Ravka is not!) but it’s hard to be but so angry at something that generally feels like the pages of a beloved story come to life.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

It’s true, Shadow and Bone is not a perfect adaptation of Bardugo’s novels. Several important secondary characters barely seem to merit a mention onscreen here (sorry, David Kostyk), and the rushed sequences at the Little Palace generally leave most of the secondary Grisha and their abilities feeling sadly interchangeable. And the series doesn’t always do the greatest job explaining the basics of Grisha life for casual viewers—I’m not sure it ever really spells out the differences between the various orders, nor does it go into tremendous depth about why things like Morozova’s stag exist. Yet, as a whole, the series feels often feels downright magical, a thrilling adventure that always remains firmly anchored in the story of the complex heroine at its center. Bring on Siege and Storm.

The post Shadow and Bone Review: Netflix Adaptation Brings the Magic appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 42 – Does This Mean I Can Hope?

“G-good evening to you, sir.”

Lunark bowed to Raizel out of gut reaction, but he gave not a single sign of acknowledgment.

He merely positioned himself, reticent and elegant, bestowing shine upon the entire balcony, so tiny and unimportant, by simply staying poised.

Like a lake in silent slumber under the moonlight.

Like a crane standing upon a snowy meadow.

Those who know him well would have seen immediately that was his characteristic way of responding to someone’s greetings.

Unfortunately, Lunark’s personal history with the Noblesse was not long enough for her brain to identify such behavioral pattern of his.

“Forgive me for making myself a guest without your permission.”

Lunark spoke, feeling compelled to defend herself once more. To her greatest relief, this time Raizel yielded a visible reply.

“...Have no concern. The door of this house is always open to my family. And their guests.”

Instantly relieved, Lunark let her shoulders slouch, and her head thawed enough to dissect Raizel’s words.

‘A family, huh?’

What a heart-warming term, thought Lunark.

During the course of her personal chronicle as a warrior of wolfkind, she could not find a chance to experience what a family is like.

It has been several centuries since she parted ways with her biological parents, and she had been admiring Muzaka and thus aspiring to be a warrior since young.

She had never allowed idleness to dare constitute her life, in a fierce, almost bloody competition against fellow werewolves, ones she would have dubbed her friends or colleagues had she been part of the human world.

Naturally, her life has come to center on her identity as a warrior and the relations based on such identity.

Including, for example, the “warrior crews” and their “components” within her race.

Or the “elders” she used to share elder’s chairs with, before her departure from the Union.

And as of now, she has only her “fellow warriors” and “lord” to bring up if she is asked to name those meaningful to her.

From her past to present, she has found relations somehow distant from “a family.”

Which is why she could not stop retracing the terminology from her mind.

And she could not stop thinking about Frankenstein, who provided a family for Raizel.

‘Ugh, not again...’

Her self-reprimand was close to a lament.

The werewolf beauty’s head dropped, and Raizel’s crimson eyes flashed with intrigue as she was exhibiting the top of her head in the presence of the Noblesse.

Which did not last for long.

She presumed Raizel was not hinting any accusation for her visit.

For such reason, she could not imagine why he would confront her now, when he was mere minutes away from a snack party with his friends.

Apparently Raizel read the question from her stare; his aesthetic lips slid open.

“A bidding I have for you.”

“A bidding...?”

The situation was so sudden, out of blue, because of which Lunark could feel her logics thinning.

Raizel kept his gaze locked upon her face as he continued.

“Frankenstein, it concerns.”

Right then Lunark could feel a pregnant weight plummeting from her head to toes.

‘Frankenstein?’

Automatically and habitually, anxiety and tremor started to creep upon her entire form, causing subtle yet definitely-there wrenches in her chest.

That was when a well-known fact about nobles knocked her memories.

All nobles are gifted with mind control, and it is common for them to utilize such endowment to sketch what lies within their audiences.

‘Did he notice that I have feelings for Frankenstein...?’

Promptly following her cognitive process, a grief almost biting shook her undivided presence.

‘Is my love so unacceptable, so outrageous?’

Muzaka already lectured her to withdraw her feelings, and she could still remember how bitter she had felt.

And now she is faced with another lecture from Raizel.

Lunark minced her lips, despising herself for lingering for the sake of her stupid curiosity.

She was hit with an urge to bolt away from her spot, but she was educated enough to tell herself that there is no way she could commit such discourtesy to the Noblesse.

Instead, she steeled the dual ventricles of her heart and intentionally disconnected her mind.

She did not want to listen to whatever Raizel had in his mouth to ruthlessly drill her heart with.

To her appallment, her eardrums disregarded her stance and sharpened themselves for Raizel’s words, perhaps because they would involve Frankenstein.

“Anything do you know about Frankenstein?”

Upon hearing him, her eyes were inadvertently drawn to his countenance.

“What do you mean by that...?”

“Quite a long time has passed since Frankenstein left this place for his individual mission. Nothing have I received from him ever since, though the distance between us I deliberately maintained, in honor of his choice.”

Raizel provided no further explanation, yet Lunark could picture what his most trusted lieutenant would have appeared upon leaving his house, as bold and determined as a patriotic general about to face off against millions of invaders to his homeland.

Lunark gave her head a few waves without realizing it, and Raizel squinted his eyes in a mysterious shape as he witnessed her action.

“Frankenstein is bound to me under our contract, breathing within our spiritual essence as a mental link. Which stays in power as we speak.”

“You mean... At this very moment?”

Lunark was mystified. She knew Frankenstein and Raizel were at least miles away from each other.

She projected a link of the Noblesse is nothing like those from the lesser nobles, until he revealed that is not the case.

“Frankenstein remains in the dark regarding this – ever since I have returned, more influential and substantial our link has grown. Now distance serves as no barrier for me to feel the climate of his heart, one of small changes I have gone through since my return; natheless, as a secret I have kept so far, for I feared I would add one more to his troubles.”

Lunark briefly wondered if he could hear Frankenstein’s heart as they were conversing.

The moment she thought of such possibility, her heart tore itself from her dominance to fire a soundless scream of inquiry: Do you know by any chance how Frankenstein feels about me?

Luckily her lip muscles remained loyal to her and secured her screech within quiet.

“Howbeit, not available to me are all of infinitesimal emotions and ruminations embroidered upon his heart. The book may be his heart, but it will not open its pages and allow its lines and characters to pour into my cognition. It will simply spill some of its most predominant words only occasionally.”

So mind control is not another name for a master key, murmured Lunark in her head upon learning something new.

The topic was quite appealing, but she was still clueless why he would mention it to her out of all people.

“And to my gravest dismay, as of late the words from Frankenstein’s book were too heavy and too dark in depth and color.”

“What do you mean by that...?”

“I am afraid too shy is the reason in treating me. It is true that I am his master by our contract of blood, but it is not in my power to pick out and examine his heart whenever I please, as if picking out books from a library.”

Lunark began to squeeze her brain for a potential theory, calculating everything she knows about him as of now.

She already knew that Frankenstein is pushing himself to his limit to find out the secret of Raizel’s return, even taking tonics to force insomnia upon himself.

And it was highly likely that the darkness within Frankenstein is the result of his strain.

‘But how come I have a feeling that there is more to this than it seems?’

Raizel is utterly respectful of individual choices and decisions; nevertheless, here he was, seeking her privacy to discuss Frankenstein’s state without his knowledge. Which suggested to Lunark that Frankenstein’s emotional state is somewhere very far from healthy or normal.

“Anything do you have to provide for me about this?”

He even asked her right in her face, because of which Lunark could see how serious the situation was.

And she felt so remorseful that there was nothing she could tell him.

Or rather, she could not tell him though she had something to tell him. She did not want at all to do something Frankenstein would not be happy with.

And Raizel would note that she is hiding something on purpose; however, she could only hope for his understanding regarding her deceit.

To her gratitude, Raizel did not pose any more question or accusation, though Lunark felt something was off.

‘Why would he ask me about Frankenstein?’

Even a toddler would be able to speculate that there had been a communication or two between her and Frankenstein, in coordination of their tasks.

‘But it looks like it’s not simply because I’m his... His ally in battlefield, to say. Or did I go too far?’

Perhaps her heart was shrieking too ardently.

Or perhaps the inquisitiveness on her face was too conspicuous.

But Raizel did not hesitate to clarify.

“For a reason and cause I have yet to explore, your name would spark in my head whenever I collect Frankenstein’s heart. It has happened in the past, but recently the occasion has turned more frequent.”

“Beg your pardon...?”

“Like I said, the pieces I can collect from Frankenstein’s heart are keywords from a book he safekeeps within. In other words, the shards of his heart that would ebb and flow into my mind are what he holds priceless to himself.”

Suddenly Lunark could feel her head spinning.

Her brain cells were busily replaying what the Noblesse just disclosed, in furious skepticism of her comprehensive aptitude.

“I do not know how you would accept this, but... I suspected the tempest in his heart is somehow related to you.”

That was when with a thump Lunark’s heart resonated in an unnatural way.

Her heart was adrift in midst of chaos, glittering in a surreal color – a color she would have labeled as “hope.”

“Hey, Rai! Where are you?”

“Hurry up! It’s almost ready!”

As she was frozen, baffled by her own reaction, a boy and a girl called upon Raizel, and his head rotated towards the living room.

“I believe it is of no manners to hold you any longer. No easy decision would have been your visit, with your pathway teeming with tasks. I wish you a safe return.”

Raizel gave a solemn nod before he turned away.

Lunark was glued to her spot, before she hopped from the balcony, her a motion very clumsy for a werewolf warrior.

‘There is storm in Frankenstein’s heart... Because of me?’

Of course, concern was the first and foremost thing that gripped her heart. After all, it was about Frankenstein out of all souls.

At the same time, she could not restrain her mind from whispering: Does this mean I can hope...?

She came to find herself looking back at Frankenstein’s house, before she gritted her teeth.

‘Snap out of it, Lunark. This is not what you are here for.’

Her job was done, and it was time to leave.

Feeling how her heart grew murkier upon her every self-rebuke, Lunark was about to kick off from where she stood, when someone called upon her.

“Wait!!!”

(next chapter)

Like I mentioned at the end of the previous chapter, this chapter centers on conversation between Rai and Lunark. This is something that troubles me whenever I present Rai in a chapter: how to make Rai’s speech eloquent as expected from the Noblesse but at the same time easily readable and understandable. And his appearance has never failed to trouble me so far lol. By the way, Lunark’s parents have never been mentioned in the original webtoon, let alone featured. I didn’t want to waste the progress giving my personally invented details about them, so I just decided they parted with their daughter long time ago (though that created another question to be left unanswered for my fic). Now this fic is moving on to the highlight of the entire plot, and I will do my best to unleash everything I have built up so far. :)