#the security guard story is that we left early to avoid the rush out only to hear some ruckus and realize something else was probably

[ariyadaivaris]

athena in real and also edge's debut featuring the hand of a very distraught security guard who did not appreciate our presence there

[twotapbuz]

The leader and a body guard(Rin x reader)

(Sorry this took so long, school sucked all of my motivation away. You can find the rest of the series here: Eloni )

warning: violence, slight angst with a happy ending

Sometime after the rock revolution, Neon J decided to leave for a 3-week vacation

This meant that you and your coworkers would need to report to Rin

The first couple of days were difficult because Rin didn’t seem to care about the reports and would flirt with whoever was giving him the report

It wasn’t till week two that things began to spiral

1010 had been in the middle of a performance when a fight broke out in the crowd

You jumped out of where you were standing to help control the crowd

You assessed the damage after everything calmed down

The venue + stage was partially destroyed, Purl-Hew lost his glasses and an eye, Haym lost an arm, Zimelu and Eloni’s faces were cracked, and Rin was missing

Rin was missing

This was bad news as the factory still hadn’t been repaired yet which meant that he couldn’t be brought back until Neon J came back

And if Neon J found out that you lost a member of 1010, you and your co-workers would be fired

So your group split into two parts, one half would take Zimelu, Haym, Purl- Hew, and Eloni back to Barraca Mansion while the other half would search for Rin

You were placed into the latter

It had been nearly an hour since Rin was discovered missing and there still was no sign of him. You were definitely going to get fired. While the concert was in Cast Tech, you along with several others were sent to search Metro Division in case he simply went back to Baraca Mansion without telling anyone. You were about to head back when you heard the sound of crashing metal. 

“Hello, is anyone there?” You didn’t mean to say anything, but you were caught off guard. Against your better judgment, you began to walk towards that alley. You were desperate to find him after all.

“Stay back! RETREAT!” shouted a panicked autotuned voice. It was Rin.

“Rin? Is that you? Are you ok?” you rushed down the alley to find Rin hiding next to a dumpster.

“Don’t look at me!” Rin was trying to cover the right side of his face with his arm.

“What? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah! Do not worry about me, I’ll make it back fine,” Rin tried to stand up, still covering his face, but immediately fell back down because his leg was missing.

“Look… everyone’s worried about you and you won’t be able to make it back by yourself with that leg,” you gestured at Rin’s broken leg. Please let me help you, I know some shortcuts.” You offered your arm. Rin hesitantly lifted his hand for his face and grabbed your hand for support. The metal that covered the right side of her face was gone, revealing the damaged hardware underneath.

You involuntarily flinched, he may not have been human, but it was still pretty jarring to look at something that looked like a person who was missing part of their face. Rin also flinched, covering his missing face with both of his hands now.

“I’m so sorry about that”, you rubbed your neck, “I just… well I didn’t expect the injury to be that bad.”

“You aren’t going to scream, are you?

“What? No, I'm very sorry about that. Besides I’ve seen way worse” you joked, trying to release the tension. Rin hesitantly uncovered his face once again and grabbed your hand and pulled himself up. The two of you dodged the groups of people walking through Metro Divison.

As the two of you were walking through, you couldn’t help but wonder about Rin’s reaction when it suddenly hit you, 1010 got severely injured during the rock revolution. One of these injuries included all of them losing their faceplates. Their fans unsurprisingly freaked out which caused 1010 to explode due to some protocol Neon J must’ve implemented. Your heart sank when you realized Rin’s reaction wasn’t because he was worried about his image, but he was scared of you screaming and what would follow afterward.

——————

After that incident, Rin seemed to act differently towards you. He took you more seriously and listened to your reports

Even after Neón J came back, Rin still came to you for your reports

Probably just practice for when Neón j retires, you thought

As the weeks passed, the time spent on the casual chats you had increased to the point you’d forgot to give him the actual report several times

“And that’s how we got Quienne and Bebe.” Rin had just finished telling you the story of how they got their cats by Haym and Eloni smuggling them in through a box. This was one of many of the 'behind the scenes stories' that Rin had told you. While they didn’t act that much different when they weren’t on camera or in front of a crowd, it was nice to be trusted enough to hear about their personal lives.

“So what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any good stories? I don’t think it’s fair if I tell all of my secrets after all~.” Rin teased

“Well, I do have one. I was at a dance audition and waiting for my turn to perform and this dude that was performing was pretty much a circus act. He was doing all these frontflips and backflips and it was just crazy. Wish I had recorded it.”

“You used to be a performer? How come you stopped?” Rin curiously asked.

“Nah, I never made it past the first round of auditions. I didn't really mind since I only entered to support a friend.” You sipped on your coffee

“That’s a shame.” Rin paused for a moment. “You know I could always offer you lessons.”

 “that's really nice, but I’ll have to decline. No amount of practice can fix these two left feet.” You looked at the clock, realizing half an hour had passed. You quickly said your goodbye and left to avoid getting into trouble. Rin watched your back as he left, unsure why he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

——————

Rin was walking to his dressing room when he saw you walking alongside several other security staff. As rude as it sounded, Rin normally wouldn’t think twice about the people he worked with. Most staff would either quit from being harassed by crazy 1010 fans or get fired for secretly being 1010 fans who used the job to get access to 1010 content, or worse, 1010 themselves. Rin shuddered as memories of one of the many incidents came back. Rin could count on both of his hands the amount of current staff that has been working for over a year and you were one of them. Rin began to think about the early part of his career when he and his family would actively engage with the staff, talking about both of their personal lives and inviting them over to hang out in the mansion. He and his brothers stopped interacting with the staff after the high turnover started. What was the point of talking with them if they were going to quit and avoid 1010 like the plague or get fired and be avoided by 1010 like the plague. He was glad that he could talk to you. He also liked the sound of your voice and how your eyes sparkled brighter than the LEDs that lit up him and his brothers. Rin blushed at the last thoughts. The sound of your voice and the sparkle of your eyes? It’s not like he was in love with you or anything. He was technically your boss and your relationship was completely professional. Yeah, your interactions were one of his favorite parts of his day and your smile would always brighten his day, but even if he was in love with you(which he is not) there’s still the challenge of gaining the approval of his family and having to deal with his fan’s harassment. He couldn’t let you go through that. Though Rin couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk with you outside of work…even go on a couple dates… maybe he was in love afterall.

——————

You walked past Rin and smiled. Despite your attempts, you fell for Rin's charm just like his fans did and it took you no time to notice this. You knew you were never going to say anything, afterall, everyone knows the rule about not dating coworkers and Rin can choose practically anyone, why would he pick you?

——————

It was the first concert after the rock revolution

The fans were extra antsy due to the lack of content, so it was all hands on deck

You were positioned on the front of the stage

This concert was no different than the previous ones, 1010 were performing, a couple of their fans attempted to jump on the stage, and you could barely hear your own thoughts over the mix of music and cheering. Suddenly both of those stopped. You looked at the stage and so 1010 standing still in mid-performance. You were told about this situation during training: it was either a malfunction or a hacking. You prayed that it wasn’t the latter. 1010 suddenly began to move in sync, but it was different from their normal in sync movement. You saw two fans get tackled to the ground as a red saw blade passed them at what would’ve been chest height. Your radio buzzed loudly as you were given your new orders:

“Get everyone out of there.”

It was chaos as you rushed around to get everyone out of the venue. Those with superhuman abilities(pyrokinesis, levitation, etc) stayed behind to prevent 1010 from leaving the venue. Despite not having any abilities, you stayed behind too. You were running around in the back looking for anyone who still might be there when the rubble from an explosion behind you knocked you to the ground. You quickly got up and saw Rin towering over Neon J. Without thinking, you quickly grabbed a nearby pipe that came from the newly busted wall and smashed it over Rin’s head. This managed to stop his attack, but it also brought his attention to you. He suddenly ran towards you, grabbed you, and threw you against the wall. Your consciousness began to fade in and out as your head collided with the wall. You saw Rin approaching you, then darkness, Rin raising his arm to strike, darkness again, Rin being pulled away by Neón J, darkness again, the inside of an ambulance, and then nothing.

——————

You woke up in a hospital room. Your eyes scanned the room: on your right was a monitor accompanied by an IV drip. On your left was a small table with flowers, a get-well balloon, a couple cards, and a Rin with a worried face sitting on one of the chairs of the room. Rin noticed you were awake and quickly rushed before stopping unsure of what to do.

“Y/N” Rin said, unsure of what to do or say

“Rin”

“Y/N… I’m so sorry about what happened- I didn’t want to-I couldn’t stop- if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you-” Rin began to stutter out of guilt. He kept making sentences but giving up on them and starting new ones.

“Rin, please” Rin paused and looked at you. “It’s not your fault, I know you would never do this” the two of you sat in silence for what felt like an eternity before you continued, “You know... if the offers still up… I’d be happy to accept those dance lessons when I get discharged." Rin began to smile

“Yeah, the offers still up”

——————

Neon J walked through the hospital’s halls. For the past two weeks, he had been personally escorting Rin to your hospital room. He knew Rin felt responsible for your injuries so he didn’t object to this despite the possible security risks(he couldn't keep his boys locked up). He had heard from Rin that you had woken up and he was glad that you were ok, but he had to cut your visitor time short due to an interview that all 1010 members must be present for. He walked into your room to find the two of you sleeping with Rin’s head on your lap. 

“It’ll be fine if Rin misses one interview.” Neon J thought as he closed the door. He also began to wonder how long it will be before Rin introduces you officially to the family.

[ddaengyoonmin]

Pairing: Single dad / childhood best friend!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: !!ANGST!!, smut.

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings:(issa dark oneee)  Mentions of abuse, abusive parent, underage drinking and drug use, Jungkook is an ass, lots of descriptions of smoke and cigarettes in an unhealthy way. Mentions of vomiting.  Toxic behaviors in general; Rough play; handjob; edging; Sub!Jungkook; Dom!Reader; choking; biting; overstimulation; slight mentions of blood; just all around physical and emotional pain definitely not #goals.

a/n: definitely cried a bit writing this.  This story ended up becoming super important to me and something I think I’ve been holding in for a while.  A lot of this story is based on my own life and personal experiences, which is why the first part is a highschool backstory.  Absolutely nothing sexual happens until they are both adults, the first part of the story was just a necessary cathartic therapy moment for me to get out :_)

(Also I tried to make this a gender neutral insert, but this is my first time doing that so kindly let me know if there's anything I can do to improve on that!)

Song inspiration: Kathleen- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Rango- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Anything-Catfish and the Bottlemen

--------

He was completely insane. It never made you like him any less though.

When you’d first heard Jungkook was back in town you had so many different emotions running through you, you thought you’d faint at the feeling.

------

When you were still in highschool, he had been your closest friend.  You spent practically every day after school with Jungkook, smoking in your car, driving around through cemeteries laughing about something funny one of your teachers had said, or the security guard who’d tried to chase you down the halls for skipping 2nd hour earlier in the day.  There never seemed to be a dull moment when he was around.

 When you’d first met him, insane and reckless were never words that would’ve come into your mind.

He was a grade younger than you and had seemed to fly mostly under your radar through all your highschool years.  It wasn’t until the second half of your Junior year that you'd even noticed he existed.

You’d shown up to the first day of track practice the way you always had, scanning over the new freshman on the team.  You’d mistaken him for a freshman and greeted him as such.  He nervously and shyly corrected you that he was actually a Sophomore just searching around for something new to try out.  

About half way through the practice you noticed a group of your teammates had swarmed around Jungkook and he looked to be almost in tears as he cowered under their words and faces, looking up at them all.

He was a small child, not very muscular and extremely geeky looking.  You found it endearing though, and found the classmates picking on him infuriating.

You stormed across the track over to where they stood demanding to know their problem, they all were also a grade younger than you and seemed to be intimidated by you.  How could they not be with the star of the track team chewing them out like they were being condemned to hell.

After they left, two big saucer eyes stared up at you, tears still slightly pooled up in his lower lid, he wiped them off with the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He sniffled. He explained that everyone in his grade always picked on him like that.  He didn’t really have any friends, and everyone seemed to think of him as the weird kid.

After that day the two of you were inseparable.  

You went to the city fair together on the last day of school that year, and that was the first time it happened.

You were supposed to be at a school sanctioned celebration, you’d told your mom that's where you’d be.

But here you were sitting in your car with Jungkook before going to the fair, the two of you giggling as he messily tried to roll a joint, swearing that his older brother had taught him how.

You felt yourself bleeding guilt for lying to your parents.  But, how could anything that sweet Jungkook convinced you to do be bad?

Stoned out of your mind the two of you ran hand in hand around the fair, giggling and riding your favorite rides too many times.  That was the first time you realized, he was truly your best friend.

That summer had you pulling a 180 on everything you’d ever thought you were capable of.

Before you knew it, you were sneaking out of your house multiple times a week to drive around with Jungkook and smoke, listening to music and feeling free.

———

It was now the middle of summer.  You were sitting in your car while Jungkook was filling up gas for you.  

Two girls and a man approached Jungkook and started chatting.  You found that odd, but then again, Jungkook had a habit of getting into conversations with strangers everywhere you went.

You never really noticed it til then, but at some point, he had really changed from the boy you met.  He was more outgoing, he was dressing better…

A tap on your window surprised you.

“Hey y/n! These guys are throwing a party at their place, let's just park your car here and go! They said just hop in!”

You felt your jaw drop a bit as you opened your mouth to protest.  But he was staring back at you so excited, so hopeful that you’ll join him.  You agreed, against all better judgement and that sick feeling in your stomach that you shouldn’t be getting into a car with strangers.

Jungkook whispered in your ear as the two of you walked to your car. “I told them we were 22” He chuckled.  Your heart dropped a bit, more sick feelings coming on.  

“Okay.” You managed to nod and agree somehow.  Jungkook excitedly opened the door to their backseat, as if he did this kind of thing all the time.

You were both lucky, the strangers were not murderers, though there was no party, just them and some beer and a hookah in a messy apartment living room.

None of it felt right, it didn’t really feel like a fun time.  Jungkook though seemed to think he was at the party of the century.  He chugged the beer they gave him in no time and was up messing with their stereo trying to get on some “PARTY MUSIC” he screamed out.

In no time at all that firecracker of a boy was wasted and trying to dance up on their table.

It wasn’t long before the apartment owners realized their mistake, this child was completely off the rails drunk.  One of them tried to bring him down from the table and he somehow managed to kick their glass hookah entirely across the room.

There was a still silence as you all looked at the shattered glass on the ground.  You had your hand clasped over your mouth looking from the glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide at you, the smile that grew on his face seemed ill fitting for the moment, as the apartment owners were obviously furious.

“Run!” Jungkook screamed out in a laugh, rushing over to you and grabbing you tightly by your wrist and pulling you out the front door.

Then the two of you ran, you just kept running down the street till your lungs gave out and you collapsed on the ground on a grassy patch in front of a gas station.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving but he still managed a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling as he held his stomach, rolling over onto his side.

“Jungkook.  That was insane…” You gasped out.

“That was fun.” he chuckled, seeming to be unphased by it all with a casual smile, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the sky.

And that was the moment you realized how crazy he was.

After that, things like this were common with Jungkook.  You were his protector at school and his partner in mischief and crime.

The two of you ended up both quitting track together, against your parent’s scolding and the coaches yelling about losing one of their star runners.  

You knew you wouldn’t be a star that year though, with all the smoking you’d been doing and you’d skipped out completely on practicing throughout the summer.  It just seemed pointless.  And you wanted more time with Jungkook before you had to leave…

———

You found yourself getting in increasingly more dangerous situations.  He’d have you take him to parties at nearby university dorms, he refused to learn to drive, part of you felt like it was just because he liked you driving him around.  

He always lied about his age, that never sat right with you.

Sometimes you found yourself gripping both hands on a beer bottle so tightly you thought your fingers might snap while he was getting talked to by every person that walked by. People loved him at first glance every time you went out together. But they didn’t know him.  

They didn’t get to see his real chaos, they never learned the lies he told them, they’d never be able to understand him.  Not like you thought you knew him.

You knew things weren’t good at home for Jungkook.  He had an older brother he was close with named Jin, and a young sister named Jill, both very lovely, but his dad was a real piece of work.  In the whole time you’d been friends with Jungkook you’d only been to his house twice, he avoided ever taking you there if he could.

You found out why when one of the times Jungkook had thought it’d be safe to bring you over for a moment, his dad got home from work early.

“What’s this shit.” His dad had grumbled at Jungkook, pointing to the light eyeliner he had around his eyes.  Jungkook had recently started to wear makeup, he did a good job of making it look natural, but today he’d gone a little heavy on the eyeliner.

“Nothing.” Jungkook muttered, turning his back to his dad.

Apparently that was the wrong move, and all you could do was stand there, frozen.

Jungkook and you have never talked about that day.  But it was traumatic for you both.  You held him close that night as he cried in your arms, sitting in the parking lot of your favorite park to smoke in.

His eye now even more black than it had been with just the eyeliner, which was now smudged across his face due to his tears.

You vowed to never let anyone hurt him ever again.  No matter what.

---------

Months later Jungkook was taking pictures of you, for your senior pictures.  Talking about how you’d be gone next year but you’d still stay in touch.  Graduation was hanging over you like a dark cloud.  You didn’t want things to change between you and Jungkook.

As much trouble as you’d gotten in, as much as your grades had dropped this year, as much as your parents gave him judgemental looks any time he was around, you loved him so much.

---------

It was the last month of school.

He was gone.

Somehow his father had managed to get your phone number and you were hearing an entire vocabulary of cuss words.

“I know you’re hiding him from me.  Where the fuck is he?’ the man growled on the other end of the phone.

You wish you knew.

But he just didn’t show up to school that day.

He didn’t text you like he always did to say that he was ready to be picked up.

No voicemail.

Not a word.

And now even his dad was calling you.  The worry that you felt had you not paying attention to one word of your classes all day.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the rest of the week.

Until next monday.  He was just...there.

“What the fuck Jungkook!” You punched him in the shoulder.  He looked like a mess, his hair hadn’t been cut or washed in a while, and he looked like he was wearing the remnants of makeup from a few days ago.

He chuckled “I decided to just hop a train out of town for a while” He shrugged “fuck it.”

“And you couldn’t tell your best friend where you went? Do you realize I thought you were dead?” You snapped at him.

He shrugged again. “It's fine.  It was fun!” He smiled a giant toothy grin.

Your blood was boiling.  How could he not even say sorry? How could he act like this didn’t affect you at all.  It was infuriating.

You didn’t talk to him for a week.

------

You made up with Jungkook, but things never went back to normal.  You were always waiting for him to just up and leave again.  To just abandon you and act like nothing is even the matter…

You’d graduated and it was summer, you thought like last summer you’d be hanging out together most every day.

But, he stopped asking.

When you did hang out with him, he’d continuously mention this new group of friends he’d found in the town he ended up in on his little adventure.  You’d think they were celebrities the way he gushed about them.

There was a girl of course, she was ‘the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen’.  You found yourself holding back a sob at those words, because you knew exactly what he meant.  Because it was the same as what you saw when you looked at him.

He was increasingly spending more time with his new friends than you, and school would be starting for you soon...maybe it was a good thing.  He was still in highschool and you were becoming an adult, he needed friends in his grade.

That didn’t make it hurt less though.

Only about a month into summer, with a simple text Jungkook invited himself over, asking you to order some pizza and said he’d be staying the night.

In your new apartment you’d gotten to yourself after graduation, Jungkook now smoking with you on your couch, the two of you chuckling about the show you were watching.  Nothing seemed wrong at that moment, it all seemed finally back to normal between you two.

And that was the last time you had seen Jungkook for 4 years.

------------

You’d checked your phone what seemed like every minute for the first month he was gone.

Even texting his brother Jin many times and getting no reply.

You waited for him to come back with some wild and crazy story of new trouble he’d gotten himself into.  You figured he had to come back, he still had school, and with Jin in college he’d never leave his little sister alone with that monster right?

But as months continued to pass, it was clear he wasn’t coming back.  All of his social media platforms had been deleted or you’d been blocked.

There weren’t enough tears in your body for how hard you cried yourself to sleep each night when you realized he really was gone.  You felt your body heaving against your mattress with each loud sob.  Your head was beginning to throb from the tears and from the stress of knowing you really had lost him.

Not that he was ever yours.

That was something you should’ve realized sooner.

Jungkook would never belong to anyone or any place.

 You chuckled at a memory of skipping class, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, his wild eyed smiling expression when he’d pass you back your cigarette completely smoked to the end.

“How!?” You’d smack his shoulder with a laugh. “It was only half smoked and I handed it to you for a hit!!! How is it gone!”

He’d wink, laugh and lean back in his seat.  “Just trying to die quicker.”

------------

You’d graduated from your university this year.  Life had pretty much gone according to plan for you that way, you had to retake one class which really wasn’t bad considering how much you’d fallen off at the end of highschool.

You were finishing up your shift at the chain restaurant you’d been working at the past year.  As you were clearing off dishes sighing over another table stiffing you on a tip, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Quickly you took the dishes into the kitchen to the dishwasher and went to the bathroom to check your phone.

It was a text from a former classmate you’d hung out with a few times.  You and Jungkook would smoke with him occasionally, though Jungkook seemed closer to him than you.  It didn’t surprise you, Jungkook made friends so easily when they weren’t in his own grade.  

Jungkook…

What was surprising was that it’d actually been a bit since you’d thought about Jungkook in a way that made your heart ache this way.  It’d been years, he was nothing more than a story you’d tell to new friends.  That wild child that you hung around with in highschool, the one who got you into so much trouble.  People’s eyes would widen at some of the stories you’d told (If only they knew the ones you didn’t dare repeat)

“You could’ve died!” They’d say.  

Or “He seems like he was just a toxic friend.”

Some even would ask you if you think maybe he could’ve been a sociopath.

You'd laugh and say it was probably true.  As much as you had hung out with Jungkook, you never quite felt like that love you held for him as your friend was ever returned.

The older you got and the more you looked back on it, Jungkook never did anything but use you.  

You drove him everywhere, you bought him dinners, you bought the cigarettes and weed, you defended him from his classmates( even though you’d seen him stab a man with a pen at a party once, over simply interrupting him.)

And what did Jungkook give to you?

Chaos.  Trouble.  Pain.  Hurt…

You closed your eyes and gulped.  You want him out of your head.  But when you open your eyes and stare back down to the text on your phone, that wish is impossible.

‘Jungkook is back’ It read.

A chill spread across your entire body and your phone clattered to the floor.  You didn’t even think about the cracked screen you’d likely caused.  Your mind was stuck on one word, one name.

Jungkook.

Jungkook…

You actually felt sick, luckily you were already in the bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls you emptied your stomach, tears forming in your eyes you collapsed with your back to the cold painted cement of the bathroom wall.

He's back.

What does that even mean?

While Jungkook had been a geeky little kid in his classmates eyes for most of his life, his reputation had started to get around.  When he went missing he was the talk of the town.  Everyone seemed to have their own theory.

“I heard he ran off with a meth dealer.” … “No, I heard he’s in florida fighting alligators.” …. “That's bullshit he's obviously finally gotten himself in juvi!” they’d all speculated.

The worst part of hearing all of that, was that you could only speculate too.

He’s back…

A second text came in.  You gulped and looked down to see a link to an instagram page kookymonster69.  Of course it was that, you chuckled.

You clicked the link and it sent you over to his page.  There were only three pictures posted, he really had just come back...you’d thought maybe he’d just blocked you so somehow this was a relief.

The first photo was a selfie, and WOW.  He did not look like the small lanky boy that you had been friends with.

He was wearing a loose fitting tank top that showed off his massive biceps and the tattoos that covered his arms and hands.  His hair was still jet black but he seemed to have learned how to perfectly style it, and his eyeliner was more on point than it's ever been.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath. Your heart beat fast right before it sank at the second picture.

It was him with a child that looked to be around 3 years old, the caption reading ‘My lil mini me’.

Oh…

Your mind flashed back to the girl he’d always talked about, the time he’d been spending with his new friends instead of you.

Of course.

Of course that's where he went.

But why couldn’t he tell you?  Why would he think you wouldn’t want to be involved in his kids life?

You cursed again under your breath and without thinking you pressed the follow button.

“I-” You gasped.  You really hadn’t meant to do that.  But, maybe it's good he knows that you know he's back…

--------

Two days later you got a notification.  Kookymonster69 is following you on instagram.

Within minutes a dm was popping up on your screen.

“Long time no talk huh?” it read.

You wanted to throw your phone against the wall.  Though that would be the second act of unwarranted phone violence because of this little shit. So you held back.  Theres only so much in your life he’s allowed to fuck up.

How could he think that was what you wanted to hear after all this time.  No different than when he’d hopped a train out of town and came back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

No apology.  No “You must’ve been so worried”

You started to type out a message telling him off.  Asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, just dissapearing and coming back into your life like this.

You maxed out the word count on your text and re read it back over.  Sighing, you deleted every word and sent a simple.  

“Yeah...it really has been a while.  How are you?”

Damnit.  You groaned and tossed yourself onto your side on your couch.  

He replied almost instantly.  

“Better lately...I have a son.”

“I saw, he looks a lot like you.  I always knew if you had a kid they’d look just like you lol called it” you felt a smile grow on your face, despite every bone in your body reminding you of who he was, and what he’s done...here you were letting your cheeks catch fire once again at his words.

“He does. lol he’s so much smarter than me though already.”

“I don’t doubt that ;) “

It was about ten minutes and he hadn’t replied.  You knew ten minutes wasn’t a long time, nothing compared to four years.  Yet somehow those ten minutes were the longest moments you’d ever experienced.

“I wanna see you again.” the words read on your phone.  You felt your stomach tie itself up into a tight knot.  

Bad idea.  Bad idea.  You should have never even replied.

Why were you digging up the past?

You quickly turned your phone over and groaned.

Letting him back in would likely only bring you more pain.  Why the hell were you actually considering it.

This time it was your turn to wait a while before replying.  You were weighing pro’s and con’s lists in your brain and though the con’s list kept growing, the Pro list’s first and only item seemed to top it all.  ‘Its Jungkook.’

---------

So here you were.  Waiting in your car outside of the address he’d texted you to pick him up at.  You were parked outside of a cheap looking apartment building only about five minutes from where you lived.  You wondered how long he’d been here...this close to you without you knowing.  

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him walk out the front door.   He was wearing an oversized grey baggy t-shirt and tight black skinny jeans ripped at the knee where you could see the start of a tattoo peeking out.  He had on silver chains and his hands were covered in rings, he looked like some kind of goth model.

You rolled the window down and called over to him.

“Not sure if you remember my car.” You spoke lightheartedly trying to offset the nervous feeling, and another feeling you were still trying to sort out.

He belly laughed and smoothly opened your passenger door and hopped in.

“How could I forget!” his dark eyes were wide and excited as always, his charming smile you’d once been so used to now making your brain practically glitch out. “I can’t believe you still have it.”

You shyly shook your head.  “Broke college student” You chuckled. “So what are we doing? You said you just wanted to chill…”

Jungkook smiled and relaxed back into your seat, like he’d done a million times, so naturally.  Though he didn’t look like the same small boy you once knew.

“Yeah, like old times.” He winked and pulled out a small baggie of weed.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“C’mon don’t tell me you quit.” He teased.

“Of course I didn’t.” You chuckled.

“Good y/n.” He smiled cutely, booping your nose with one finger, and you felt your heart stop.

Your face must’ve fallen or had some sort of expression to let him know he’d affected you, because he immediately punched your shoulder as if to snap you out of your thought.

“Give me a cigarette then and let's go.” He demanded joyfully, banging on the dash of your car and giving you an “onward” motion with his arm for you to start driving.

You drove around for about an hour, smoking cigarettes and passing a joint back and forth.

He didn’t talk much about himself or what he’d been up to and he also didn’t ask much about you either.  When you’d bring up questions you got short replies that didn’t seem very satisfying.

“So are you still with your kids mom?” You asked him as he was passing you an almost fully smoked joint.

“Hell no!” he coughed out smoke with his words.  “Evil.” he muttered and shook his head.

“Evil?”

“Yup.” he nodded, grabbing another cigarette from your pack without asking.  Just as he always used to.  What's yours was always his back then, but right now his casual way of falling back into old routines was hurting, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled into the parking lot of you and Jungkook’s favorite park you’d hangout at.  You pressed the brakes suddenly and aggressively bringing the car to a half.

“Woaah.” Jungkook giggled as he let out a tiny puff of smoke.

“You left.” You felt yourself about to explode.  Trying to hold it in was becoming impossible.

“You just LEFT.” You yelled the last word, startling him and making him cower back against the window.

“Y/n…” His eyes widened as he gave you his best puppy dog face, this was the first time you’d probably ever really yelled at him.  He’d been scolded plenty of times, but you were always soft on your Jungkook.  He didn’t deserve that though, you might not have been dating, but he’d broken your heart and you deserved an explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?  How could you just leave me without a word?” You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

It was silent in your car for a while.

Jungkook brought the last hit of his cigarette to his mouth shakily.

“No.” He shook his head, doing something that always gave you the chills. The way he could turn his cutesy eyes into stone cold daggers in an instant used to make your heart drop into your stomach.  Though right now you were a bit too worked up to feel anything but anger at him.

“No?”

“Yeah.  No.  I don’t need to tell you shit.” He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Right.” You huffed, sinking into your seat.  “Why would you.  Why would you tell your best friend what's going on in your life right?” you snapped and realized the words building inside had reached your tongue faster than your brain could tell you to stop.

“Though I guess maybe we never really were best friends? Maybe I just thought that because you hung around me so much.  But you never actually gave a shit about me did you?”

Jungkook’s eyes were widening and he was cowering further away from you.

“I would’ve done anything for you Jungkook, you know that? Died for you, killed for you.  Do you realize how many times I took the fall and got in trouble for things you did? And you just…let me.  You always just let me get hurt for you, let me ruin myself for you. And you never cared. And then you just...left.”

Your last words came out as a choked up whisper.

Jungkook was staring at the cigarette in his hand that had gone out, twirling it between his tattoo’d fingers and pursing his lips together tightly.

“Why’d you keep hanging around me then if you hated it so much.” He grumbled, seeming genuinely hurt by your words.

You sighed.  Hating that now you felt the need to comfort *him*. You shook your head.  No. He doesnt get to get away with that.

“I guess I don’t know.” You muttered glaring at him.

His eyes met yours for a moment but on seeing your anger they quickly flitted away.

“You seemed helpless.” You answered after a moment. “That's why.  I thought you needed me.  I thought I was helping you by being there for you.  I didn’t realize you were destroying me.”

At that Jungkook’s gaze was serious and direct at you.

“Destroying you?”

“Nevermind.  This was just a mistake.” You murmured starting to put your car into reverse to leave.  A large tattoo’d hand pressed onto yours stopping you.

“Hey.” He spoke seriously.

You stopped and looked over at him, already visibly exhausted from this conversation.

“Just…” He grabbed another cigarette from your pack and lit it, sucking in a large hit.  “I missed you, trust me.” he grumbled.

“Oh wow, well at least you missed me the four years you chose to not talk to me.” You hissed out slightly getting in his face, making him flinch back.

“I’m not gonna say sorry.” He whispered, his doe eyes staring at you intensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and what seemed to be your lips.

Of course he’s not.  Of course he does know that's what you want.  You had an urge to grab his face in your hands and just shake some sense into him and scream ‘Why can’t you just have some normal human emotions you complete sociopath.’

Instead your body’s next choice of action was one that neither of you were expecting.

As if your lips were magnets, yours fell onto his quickly and perfectly, snapping the two of you in place together.  

You pulled back with a gasp, holding your lower lip between your thumb and index finger, feeling mortified at yourself.

Jungkook on the other hand had a smirk slowly growing on his face, his eyes mischievous, likely knowing this was his “in” back to your good side.  

The fact that you knew that's probably what he was thinking should’ve been enough to have you stop right there.  But the way his eyes were now scanning you up and down in admiration was too intoxicating, too addicting, you’d missed him too much.

“Do your seats still fold all the way down.” He pointed to your backseat with a chuckle.

You smacked his shoulder. “And why would that matter to you.” You teased, almost completely forgetting how angry you’d just been with him.  Damnit, how did he do that.

He shrugged with a knowing laugh, his eyes crinkling up cutely, bringing his still lit cigarette to his lips.  

“You wanna get even?” He glanced at the back seat again.

“Get even?”

“Yeah.” He winked “You seem like you’ve got a lot of pent up steam at me there.  I'm just suggesting some sanctioned punishment-” the corners of his lips curled up mischievously at the word. ”-so maybe you’ll feel a bit less upset at me.”

Bad idea.  Bad idea.  Those words were playing on a loop in your brain.

Trying to remind you of every bit of hurt and pain he’d caused you, and how if you slept with him, you knew that pain would only hurt worse the next time.

Jungkook was already getting out of the car and putting the seats of your station wagon down flat into a makeshift bed.

You had your fingers clenched tightly around your steering wheel, knuckles turning white.  This is Jungkook, not just a one night stand, not a new fling.  This is *Jungkook*.  You knew there was a higher chance than not that you’d be filled with regret after this.

But there he was now laying out in the back seat of your car, staring at you with a cute and enticing look.  “y/n.” He spoke sweetly.  “You can come punish me now” He winked.

You couldn’t deny to yourself how much you wanted him.

You took one more deep breath in and without taking another thought to it you rushed into the back seat with him.

He was laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

“Took you long enough.” he teased.

Before he could say anything else you were on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pressing him to the seat with one hand and putting another one over his mouth.

“You’re definitely going to have to shut up.” You growled.  

His eyes lit up at the fire you’d shown him.  He’d never seen you like this before, his sweet y/n that always looked after him, looked out for him, picked him up every time he needed it.

He knew he fucked up.  But life itself was fucked up, nothing in life is fair and no one gets what they truly deserve.  Jungkook especially.  So why would he owe anyone an apology?

This was the best he could give to you.

He nodded, agreeing to be quiet for you.

You slowly let your hand fall from his mouth and replaced it with your lips, melting into him, you were kissing him like you’d been starved for it.  Your fingers started to tangle in his hair, messing it up and tugging slightly.  

Jungkook's hand reached around your waist, pulling you against him, moving down to your hips and trying to get you to grind against him.

You quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and shaking your head slightly as you gave him a few more pecks.

“Don’t get greedy.  You can’t be patient after all this time?” You scolded.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, taking in the sight of you straddling him, looking down at him with a mix of emotions still flowing through you.  

You went back to kissing him, pinning his other hand above his head and after a bit, rewarding him by pressing your core down onto his and giving him the friction he’d wanted.

He let out a soft and needy whimper as you did.

You felt butterflies filling your stomach at his noise.  It was so gentle and sweet, and to know that you were the one making Jungkook feel this way was a sense of pride you’d never felt before.

You stacked his wrists one on top of the other and held them in one hand, your other hand now slipping between where your bodies met and palming him over his jeans.

He hissed out a sharp breath and a small “fuck” fell from his lips involuntarily.

“Does that feel good baby?” You teased him pulling back from your kisses and studying his face, knowing the answer was obvious.

He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes were clenched tightly as he nodded.

Your fingers fumbled slightly but didn’t take you too long to undo his jeans and slip your hand inside, now running your hand slowly along his length over his boxers.  His hips lifted slightly off of the seat, pressing up against your hand desperately wanting more.

At that you gave him a slight squeeze, causing him to yelp out.  His eyes were wide staring up at you.

“I said don’t get greedy.  Remember, this is supposed to be for me.” You chuckled at his disappointed face. “You’ve always been so fucking selfish and greedy.” You gently kissed his lips, before roughly taking his lower one between your teeth and biting harshly.

“Fuck.” he hissed, a small drop of blood now forming where you’d nipped at him, but he only seemed more hungry for you now.

You tugged on the hem of his pants and boxers. “Off now.” You demanded.

He wasted no time after you released his wrists, he tugged down his clothes, pulling up his shirt slightly and letting his length fall against his toned lower abs.

He was so beautiful, smiling up at you with a playful look.  It was an absolute joke for you to think you were actually in charge here.  You were wrapped around his finger and you always had been.

He looked absolutely mouthwatering.  But you didn’t want to let it get to his head.  This was supposed to be payback.

You went back to kissing him, that way you didn’t have to look at him, that way you didn’t risk saying the words that you shouldn’t...

With a free hand you took his length into your hand, letting the weight of him sit in your palm for a moment before slowly tickling your fingers up and down.  He twitched under your touch and his kisses faltered as he let out a small gasp.

“y/n no more teasing.” He moaned out.

“I thought I said shut up.” Your hand was back over his mouth, but you decided to indulge him for a moment, pumping your hand up and down his length a few times.  You could feel his moans vibrate against the palm of your hand still clamped down on his lips.

You let him go and slowly moved yourself down so that his cock was positioned right in front of your face.  Letting your tongue lay flat against the base with pressure you licked a long stripe up his cock.  When you got to the tip you flicked your tongue a few times right under his head.  His hips reflexively moved up at that, begging you to take him fully in your mouth.

Instead you “tsk’d” at him a few times, loosely holding his cock in your hand and not moving.

“It's no fun just sitting there waiting is it?” You asked. “How do you think I felt waiting for you for years.” You lightly slapped the tip of his cock with your hand not holding it.

“AH!” He yelled out “Hey!” he strained his neck to be able to give you a shocked expression.

“Too far?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, laying back down.  ���No.  No it's not that I don’t like it.” He chuckled. “Just...it's you.  I never thought you’d be like this in bed.”

You were suddenly moving up to face him, your hand grabbing the sides of his neck tightly. “You don’t know me anymore.” You growled.  “You made sure of that by cutting me out of your life for four fucking years.” your grip on his neck tightened slightly before you released him.  

He gasped in a deep breath when you pulled away, looking up at you in awe.  

You moved your hand back between his legs now pumping quickly, twisting over his head when you’d get to it.  You ate up every moan that you pulled from his lips, they were yours, you’d caused every single one and they were yours to keep forever.

Right before it looked like he was going to cum, you pulled your hand away, leaving his cock untouched and throbbing.

“No..” He whimpered, “Please please.” His needy whines were so cute.

“But why should you get to cum?” You teased him.

He pouted dramatically. “Y/n…” He spoke sweetly “Cuz you love me. Make me cum because you love me.” He smiled a wide and precious smile.

Fuck.

Your mouth hung open at his words.  Of course he knew you loved him.

All the easier to use you.

Because that made it all the harder for you to say no to him.

Letting your forehead rest against his, you brought your hand back to his length, letting your fingers drag against his soft skin as you gripped him.  

You could see a small smirk on his face, as his breathing became even more unsteady, his moans catching in his throat as he panted heavily.

“Oh my god that feels so fucking good.” He groaned out. “Fuck.” His hands were gripping the back of the front seat that his head was pressed up against, his muscles flexing as he tightened his grip unable to contain how good you were making him feel.  

His abs were clenched and his hips were lifting off of the seat for you as he desperately fucked himself into your hand.

“I-I’m cumming.” He gasped out, his eyes met yours as he came, his mouth falling completely open and noises resembling your name were being muttered as his hips jerked and his cock twitched in your hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

You didn’t stop moving your hand around him, waiting for him to get so sensitive that he had to pull your arm away, both of you laughing.

You rolled over next to him, turning your head to face his.  

He was facing the top of the car, eyes closed and he had a big smile on his face, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Even?” He finally opened his eyes, turning to you with a bright grin.

You chuckled.

It probably would be asking too much to expect Jungkook to see the flaw in his logic here.  Once again, he’d gotten you to give him everything, for nothing in return, and he wanted to call that his apology.

You shook your head at him.

“No.  But I do feel a little better.”

He nodded, seeming to somehow take that as a positive.

“You’re good at that.” He sat up, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe off his stomach.

“Thanks…” You muttered.  Here it was, the regret setting in.  The feelings of ‘what the fuck did I just do’.  Even worse was the feeling of knowing now that you had, all he had to do was say the word, and you’d be right back there again.

You exited the backseat of the car quickly, rushing to grab a cigarette from your glove compartment, your fingers shaky as you brought the lighter up to the tip.  Flicking it many times but not getting a flame.

“Fuck!” You yelled, chucking the lighter as far as you could, managing to make it over a fence and into the park.  

Jungkook had just gotten out of the back seat in time to witness your little display.  He didn’t say anything, simply grabbing another lighter from the front seat along with a cigarette for himself and walking it over to you.

You let him light your cigarette and the two of you stood for a minute in silence.

“Does this mean you’re actually back…” You whispered softly, almost not wanting to even ask, not wanting to know if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping to hear.

Maybe Jungkook knew that.  Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything at all.

He never told you he loved you, he didn’t even try and make you feel loved.

Maybe it was good that way, it might make it a bit easier when he leaves again.

Maybe it was better that way, it was kinder than being lied to.

[7wanderingpaws]

Captain Bucheon 02

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader (Lee Nari)

Genre: policeman AU; enemies to lovers AU

Warnings:  langauge, mentions of drugs

story masterlist masterlist

<-- first -- next -->

tags: @wooya1224 (if you want to be un/tagged let me know! I forgot to ask last time lol)

.

Second: Fears and Desires

Rushing out of the building, you made a quick run for the closest bus stop, trying to supress every urge to look back in case someone could be following you. With their identity being unknown and the box being successfully delivered on your behalf meant huge trouble for you and it left you incredibly nervous to stay in the same place as that anonymous. For whatever reason someone decided to deliver the box. Who could it be?

With your heart racing all the way in your throat, you thought that this situation would be the worst. Turning a sharp corner that led to the main road, you collided harshly with a sturdy chest, the person's arms flying out to catch your falling figure. Hands slid around your waist and steadied you up carefully.

Realizing your eyes were squeezed shut, you opened your eyes to be met with familiar ones. You slowly died inside.

“Careful,” he murmured as he took in your scared expression.

Stepping away from him, you tried to brush off the feeling of pining. You'd been working way too hard to avoid him for you to meet him exactly when you were running away red-handed. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head gently as his gaze slowly took in your features. It made you shudder. “My workplace is not far away, remember?”

Gulping, you nodded, letting out a breathy snort as you looked down on the pavement. “Right. Silly of me to ask.”

“Are you okay?”

“I missed you,” you blurted at the same time and looked up at him. “Oppa.”

Baekhyun was frozen just for a moment before he stepped closer to you with the gentlest of smiles. Slowly, he reached up with his hand and cradled your cheek. “I missed you too, pretty.”

Pretty. Ah, how you missed that nickname.

“Then kiss me,” you let out boldly and you expected him to be surprised or even scold you for being so demanding but he surprised you.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, leaning in. “I will, now that you're finally here.” You helped him out by standing on your tip-toes while you let your arms circle around his neck, and his hands slid back to your waist. His lips touched yours gently, carefully, before you hummed and pushed yourself more into him, urging him to deepen the kiss.

He growled when he felt your chest press up to his and his grip tightened while one of his hands came up to your neck, tilting your head so he could have better access. With a simple lick of his tongue, he was inside and you were whimpering, gasping, panting. So, so needy for him. You groaned, feeling the strong attraction you both shared. It seemed that no matter how much you hated him, it was always present. You would always be bewitched by Byun Baekhyun.

He was still hungrily claiming your lips when he reached up for your arms and brought them down until he had your hands in his. He fumbled with them for a while and you smiled, expecting him to intertwine your hands. Just the feeling of his smooth hands on yours made the butterflies in your tummy flutter their wings.

Then you heard a click.

Baekhyun kissed you one last time, his lips puckering, before slowly leaning back and taking in your scared eyes when you felt cold metal around your wrists.

“Lee Nari,” he breathed, the puffs of hot air on your wet lips, “I arrest you for illegal drug distribution.”

><

Gasping loudly, you sat straight up in your bed, the aftermath of your nightmare still present and fresh in front of your eyes while you tried to shake off the dread and the terrible pull in your lower tummy. Why the hell were you sexually frustrated when he arrested you again?

“What is it?” you heard from beside you, a confused and sleepy Yuyeon. “Nari? Are you okay?” she was next to you within a second, the early morning sun lighting up the room softly through the light curtains. She saw you touching your lips while tears were rolling down your cheeks. “Goodness, was the dream that bad?” she asked again carefully and sat on your bed.

You whimpered, still shocked, and reached out for your best friend, wrapping your arms around her to get a feel of reality. “Just… it was ridiculous. So ridiculous, Yuyeonah,” you muttered, sniffing, flashes of Baekhyun's face ever-present and lively. That was certainly not how you imagined the first meeting with him to go. 

“It was just a bad dream,” consoled Yuyeon gently, rubbing your back in circles. “None if it is real, Nari.”

You nodded and pressed your lips together. 

Just a bad dream.

><

“Are you okay?” Someone muttered to your ear, successfully scaring the living daylights out of you.

You heard that sentence in your dream.

Turning around abruptly with wide eyes, you spot Chul who was smiling at you cheekily.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You just look a little absent-minded,” he explained, scratching his neck as he looked at the ground.

You sighed. “I’m fine. But thanks for worrying.”

He nodded and wanted to say something before hesitating. You raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking him what was up.

“Was everything fine after I left?”

Oh. You completely forgot to let him know the mission was successful since you were so freaked out by the unexplainable events. “Yes!” you squeaked. “It went perfectly!”

“Great! I received the confirmation text but you never followed up with an update.” He laughed. “Then we can focus on your run in the festival!”

You groaned and started stomping towards your classroom. “I really, really like REALLY don’t wanna do it.”

He followed you, snickering. “You’re our ace, Nari.” He hugged your shoulders with his arm and pressed you to his side. “If you won’t attend, nobody will come and watch!”

Puffing your hair out of your face, you silently fumed. “I already said okay to the darn MCing with that bitc- singer.”

“Were you just about to call her a bitch?” asked Chul, shocked as he maneuvered you through the crowded corridors. Students were giving you looks, some whispering when they spotted Chul, the famous boy.

“Ah, no, not at all,” you grumbled, not bothering to hide your sarcasm.

Chul chuckled and you stopped in front of your class. “You can be so feisty. Either way, bring this spirit to the running track. We are starting from today!”

“But-but I want to go out to the bar-“

Chul clicked his tongue. “I will gladly take you to a bar if you come to the practice.”

Not even stopping to think it over, you quickly complied: “You’ll buy me a drink, right? Oppa?” you added with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

He observed you for a moment, an amused smile splayed on his face. “Sure, Nari. A drink it is.”

“Deal!”

><

“Faster, Lee!” shouted coach Lim when you finished the second round, heaving loudly like a horse. “If you want to win an award for us you will have to do better than that!”

With bitter realization, you noticed how he reminded you of your beloved math teacher back in high school. Unfortunately, you weren’t that good at sports but you were still better than math.

“Okay, got it,” you exhaled harshly, coming to a full stop.

You saw the sun already setting, the cold air turning your hot breaths into condensation. You could practically feel your nose turning red.

“Hey, Rudolf!” Chul.

You snapped your head at him, glaring. “Do not mock me. You’ve dragged me into this yet you seem very unaffected.”

He laughed, walking over to you. “You already forgot why I am the president of the student council?” He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I’m good at everything.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay then you win the award for us.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s gotta be you,” he winked at you.

Too tired to bother fighting with him, you quickly went to change into your clothes, deciding you would take a shower once you got back from the smelly bar. Surely you stinking wouldn’t bother people too much. Plus, it wasn’t like you were trying to impress Chul anyway.

Meeting the senior outside, you headed for the closest bar, bickering on the way. Once inside he bought you a drink just as promised and you were fast to gulp down half of the cocktail.

“So, I’ve been wanting to discuss some matters with you,” started Chul, looking at you in amusement when you took another big gulp. “Just some other stuff that has to be taken care of about the festival.”

You whined and leaned your forehead into your palm. “Why now? We should do that at the student council.”

“You’re my right hand, Lee,” reasoned smoothly Chul and took a sip of his beer. The frothy foam left a small white mustache and it made you giggle. You motioned for him to get rid of it and he quickly licked it off. “Anyway,” he started with a laugh, “you’ll take care of the security team of the festival. Make sure to book the bodyguards and police guards around. We will have famous artists there so security should be our number one priority at all costs.”

You hummed, faking thinking. You ignored your rapid heartbeat at the mention of police, some flashbacks of your dream quickly chasing you down. Nodding, you hid your face behind the cup as you took another sip and looked around the place as if expecting to see the familiar face in the crowd just like you did on the night you met him.

“I kind of want to pass on this one,” you finally replied as you put down your glass.

“Why is that?”

Sighing, you pursed your lips not wanting to elaborate on your actual thinking pattern. “Just feels weird to talk to the police and blah blah blah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m already doing so much for the festival, Chul, don’t you think?”

Chul observed you for a moment. “I’m sorry. I feel like a total jerk for always throwing all the responsibilities at you but I really am only giving you those tasks that require the most able person.”

“Oh.” You didn’t think about that. After all, Chul was right. You were kind of like a right hand to him, doing a lot of jobs in the behind the scenes whenever there were events happening at the school.

“And I heard that you might have connections at the police so I thought we could use that to our advantage,” he continued, hesitating when he noticed your sour expression. “Am I wrong?”

Your slight scowl turned into a frown. “Who the hell told you that?”

He blinked a couple of times. “Well, she told me it’s a secret so…”

“Chul?”

“Yeah,” he looked at your hard expression, prompting him to answer you. You swore you would kill Oh Sehun, you were sure it was him.

“Yuyeon. It was Yuyeon.”

Your mouth opened in shock. You thought you heard wrong. “What? What did she tell you though?” And why would Yuyeon talk to a person she didn't like? You knew her well and she voiced, or at least showed, how she didn't like Chul. In her opinion, he was too friendly with everyone.

Chul laughed unsurely, a little perplexed at the change of your behavior. “Nothing! I mean... she mentioned a boyfriend-“

“I never had a boyfriend at the police station,” you declared quickly. “I hardly know anyone there so I don’t think I can help you in this matter.”

Chul nodded, immediately complying while his hands played with the cup in his hands. “Right, sorry. Maybe I’ve heard wrong. You’d be too young to date a police officer anyway.” He took note of your sudden unreadable expression and when you didn’t reply, he added: “Then I don’t see a problem why you can’t take care of the matters! Since you don’t have a boyfriend at the station.”

You sucked your lips in, mulling over his words. It wouldn’t hurt if you’d ask for favors from Yuyeon or Sehun, right? They could call in with your name and that way you wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of accidentally talking to Byun Baekhyun. Either way, it was hard to win an exclusive chat with the big captain himself, so eventually, you didn’t see that much of a problem with it. And, it was a must that nobody could find out about any kind of connection with him. People would know you were underaged or could think you were too easy and had a beneficial relationship with him. That could totally ruin your image — because you didn’t care about his for sure!

“Okay,” you agreed with a timid nod, avoiding Chul’s eyes. “I’ll do it.” Managing to fake a strained smile you finally looked up to catch him studying you.

“If it makes you uncomfortable—“

“No, it’s absolutely fine,” you chirped in and threw the remaining cocktail into your mouth. If you pretended it was hard alcohol maybe you could slowly start swimming in nothingness and forget about him.

It was unfair that he’d been chasing you in your dream. It felt so real. Even the kissing was so believable it made chills run down your spine. “I’m gonna order another one,” you decided, already standing up. “I need it.”

Chul nodded slowly, hesitantly, and shook his head when you asked him whether he wanted another one.

Walking over to the busy bar, you caught the waiter and ordered yourself another cocktail when a tall figure appeared next to you.

“Is this your fourth already?” He asked nonchalantly, looking around. He was one head taller than you so it wasn’t like you were obscuring his view. “Jez, woman, when was the last time you took a shower?”

Rolling your eyes, you waved your hand to finally bring his attention to you. “You don't even pay attention to me but dare to comment on my hygiene.” You clicked your tongue disappointedly. “I’m right here, Sehun, and no it isn’t my fourth. But I’m getting there,” you rumbled and tapped your fingers impatiently on the worn-down surface of the wooden bar table.

“Why are you here with Chul?”

“Cause you didn’t ask me to hang out,” you pouted and innocently blinked a few times.

Sehun elbowed you gently. “I was meeting someone else today. And anyways, you’ve been always busy during a weekday - you don’t have work tonight, right?”

Making a grimace at the mention of your work, you turned back to the barista, watching him mix your cocktail. “No, tonight I’m free. And I had my first training, Sehun. I will die if I have to continue preparing for that damn race,” you whined, turning abruptly to him.

“I’ll help you with the training. I promise I’m more fun than coach Lim! I hear he is rather hot-headed,” he said with a glint in his eyes. “You know I won’t scold you.”

You frowned like a kid. “Run the race for me then.”

Sehun sighed and when the barista brought you your cocktail he quickly ordered two whiskeys.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “You’re going hard tonight.” Immediately you took a sip of your drink and felt an instant relief. While still playing with the straw, you looked up at your friend. “Who’re you here with anyway?”

Sehun gave you a look. “Uh, just a friend.” He shrugged. He was thankful for the crowded bar tonight. “We are just catching up.”

“Great!” You smiled brightly and put your cocktail down. “Do I know him? Or her?” you winked.

“Eh—“ Sehun hesitated and his eyes fell on someone behind you, following the person with his eyes for a moment. He then quickly took your cocktail and pushed it into your hand. “Nari, you shouldn’t have Chul wait for you. I’ll see you at school.”

You pouted, frowning. “Yah, are you trying to get rid of me?!”

“No, I'm really not but just go. I’m doing you a favor here.”

You were about to scoff and retort to him something ugly for daring to kick you out like that, when another figure appeared next to Sehun. “I have an urgent phone call. I’ll be back soon, Sehun.”

You stared at Byun Baekhyun with your mouth hanging slightly open. His hair was pushed from his forehead, leaving space to admire his handsome features and the wrinkle-free forehead. His jawline was sharp and you zoomed in on those lips and the way they showed his lower teeth whenever he opened his mouth. He was absolutely breath-taking and he kissed you last night in your dream. He arrested you, too.

Baekhyun finally looked at the person Sehun had been chatting with, intending to acknowledge their presence but maybe he shouldn’t have. Having Lee Nari staring at him that way still pulled on his insides.

It was exactly three seconds and you sensed Sehun nodding to himself awkwardly, obviously thinking well, I told you to leave, but he didn't have to speak indirectly no more. You dashed. You literally dashed along with your cocktail, not bothering about spilling it all over yourself in the process, not bothering to say bye to Sehun, let alone acknowledging Baekhyun's presence. You swore you wouldn't do it. So you didn't.

Your heart was wild and scarily loud as you hastily approached Chul and slid down into your chair, bringing breeze along with you. He locked his phone he’d been playing with while you were away but when he saw your disheveled state, he blurted: “Nari? What happened? Are you okay?”

You were staring at him, desperately trying not to look where Sehun and Baekhyun were.

“It’s fine.”

“Did someone try to do something?” He looked back over his shoulder and he directly spotted Sehun and he must have seen Baekhyun, too. They had their heads connected now, an intense talk going on. “Hey, that’s Oh Sehun with someone.”

“Yeah, I chatted with him for a moment. Anyway, I’m here now. Let’s continue the talk.”

Chul took a moment longer before he finally turned around and faced you. He caught you gulping down half of the cocktail and sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I am.” Your eyes wandered on their own accord and you caught eyes with Baekhyun as he was leaving the bar. He was carefully making his way through the crowd, his phone in his hands, most probably tending to that urgent phone call he mentioned. He must have still been a workaholic.

To your utter horror, he wasn’t a coward. You should have known better than to follow him with your stare, for Baekhyun kept his look on you, observing you expressionlessly until he couldn’t do so anymore and until he was out of the bar.

He would hunt you all the time.

And you, as mature and as confident you acted a year ago when you told him there might be a chance of you two starting over again, you realized you probably matured backwards during that time. Anger, hatred, passion - they were all burning up inside of you and all the unwanted memories came flooding back.

Biting down hard on your lip, you willed away the tears. Lee Nari was not someone who would cry just over anyone and she wouldn't get fooled twice.

It was just the realization that you would never be able to build your bridges up with him again that made you want to weep. Even though you wanted to, you found it almost impossible in that moment.

><><><><><

A/N: Whew. I had a little bit of a rough time with this one because it is so slow-paced and already a little complex (in my head). What did you think? I got you fooled there in the beginning heheh It was just a dream in case you are still not sure! Though you never know with Captain Bucheon, hm?

Please let me know your thoughts!! :) 

CuriousCat

[teddy-bear-surprise]

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐡�� 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞

You can read this story on AO3 or Wattpad too!

Peter Parker X Fem Reader

Description: A Pinch of Angst, Soft Peter Parker, Wholesome Peter Parker, Comforting Peter Parker… It’s a cute story, that’s basically it. Based on post-Far From Home but without the Daily Bugle incident. Spoiler alert: you’re Peter’s girlfriend… Just kidding that wasn’t a spoiler. But that’s basically all the backstory you need. Pls enjoy

Word Count: 5.6K

I would also like to take a moment to recommend the song "Down The Line" by José González since it's what inspired this story.

Before Peter left for his Summer class trip, he was the happiest kid in the world. Or, as happy as any kid whose father figure just died in an intergalactic battle could be. He could barely go one sentence without mentioning how “awesome” it would be to visit Europe. He and Ned had literally stayed up until 3 in the morning– more than once –because they couldn’t stop talking about Europe. He wanted to go on this trip so badly that he packed his bags a week early, which you and May knew was unprecedented for Peter. 

Honestly, everything seemed perfect. You and May dropped him off early at the airport, he remembered to bring his passport, and Ned brought snacks for the both of them. It all went as smoothly as it could, especially considering that you all woke up half an hour late because Peter made (and presented) a 59-slide Powerpoint presentation about Europe the night before his flight. 

The second Peter passed airport security, he started sending you photos of him hanging out with Ned. You saw the airport, and Europe, through Peter’s eyes. It was like seeing the world painted with brighter and newer colors, but it also could’ve been that hideous filter he puts on all of his photos. Still, you had never seen him so excited to be outside of Queens. 

Almost immediately after he got to Europe, Peter’s photos started coming in less frequently, his texts grew shorter, and his voice wavered on the phone. You knew all about the battles against inter-dimensional monsters, the entire world knew. He was undoubtedly tired after such big fights, and you stupidly thought that was the only reason he had been acting differently. You thought he was just tired. You thought he was just busy. You thought he was just having fun. It turns out, you were just plain wrong . 

  The airport doors slid open, and you saw Peter walk out as he waved goodbye to Ned. Aunt May stood excitedly beside you and waved her homemade sign at Peter who would never need any sign to recognize the two of you. He jogged over, and you rushed to meet him, embracing him in a tight hug. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and held you for what felt like an eternity. You rubbed small circles on Peter’s back, beyond relieved to see him again. May walked up and tapped Peter on the shoulder, giving him a playful look that said, “I can’t believe you hugged your significant other before you hugged me.” The two reunited, and May pestered him with a neverending stream of questions. Peter answered each one as vividly as possible, leading you to think that the change that happened while he was in Europe was all in your head. 

But when May joked about Peter’s lost luggage, you noticed something. He flinched. For a second, you couldn’t understand why Peter would be so upset about some lost luggage, but then you realized it. He had taken his Uncle Ben’s luggage with him to Europe, one of the last memories he had of Ben, and now it was gone. So though May couldn’t seem to care any less, you acknowledged that grief looked different for everyone.

Admittedly, Ben’s burnt bags weren’t the only thing bothering Peter. He seemed to let his guard down every few minutes, and the exhaustion, sadness, and despair would seep from his wide eyes. Peter didn’t seem to care that you could see, and maybe this was his way of asking you for help. But whenever May would glance at Peter through the rearview mirror, his walls would build right up again– turning him into a hollow, empty puppet with a smile plastered on its face. 

The whole ride home, you had to sit there and pretend you couldn’t tell. After May dropped you off at your house, you weren’t sure if you should text Peter or not. You wrote and rewrote a dozen messages to him, but none of them felt right. 

“Peter, are you okay?” Nope… too short. 

“Hey, Pete do you need to talk? I’m alwa–” Definitely not. Way too direct.

“I noticed you seemed a bit down. Is everything alright?” You sound like May. Ew. 

Ultimately, you never sent any of them. As much as you loved Peter and wanted to help him, you knew it wouldn’t do any good to rush him. So, you gave him some space and time. 

  Shockingly, for the first time since you had gone to pick him up at the airport, Peter asked you to come over. During the past two weeks, you had always been the one to initiate dates or conversations. And even though it felt like Peter had stopped loving you, you persisted, never confusing his pain for the loss of love. 

As usual, you and Peter invited May to join in on your movie night. And right on cue– only twenty minutes into the movie –she said she never wanted to watch another Star Wars film again and went to bed, leaving you both alone in the living room. After you finished watching Phantom Menace for the dozenth time, Peter laid out his collection of Star Wars DVDs, trying to decide if he wanted to watch the rest of the prequels or skip to another one of his favorites. 

Deep down, you felt like Peter had invited you over for a reason. That his intentions included more than a movie, that it meant he was ready to talk. You leaned down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he froze, holding A New Hope tightly in his grip.

“Pete… Are you okay?”

He glanced back at you with confusion, “What do you mean? Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” 

“I don’t know, Pete. All I know is that you’ve been acting different since you got back from your trip.”

“Why would I be different?” He replied defensively, as though you had offended him. “I mean, i-if anything, you’re the one who’s being different.”

You saw tears well up in his eyes as he turned his back to you. “Peter, please just talk to me. I can tell that something’s off. I’m your girlfriend, for gosh sakes! I can tell! And you might think you have everyone else fooled, but….” You took a second to breathe, “but you can’t fool me.”

He shifted his weight and turned to face you, opening his mouth to speak. Still, nothing came out. Peter looked back at the ground, his silence prompting you to continue.

“I’m not sure if you wanted me to notice– or if you just didn’t care that I noticed –but I noticed. I gave you time, I waited for you to talk to me, and I thought that you inviting me over tonight meant that you were ready to talk.” Tears rolled down your face as you lowered your voice. “I’m sorry for caring, Peter, but I can’t pretend that you’re okay anymore… because you are clearly not okay.”

He fiddled with his hands, still avoiding looking at you. “I just wanted to watch a movie. I-I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but all I wanted was to watch a movie with my girlfriend a-a-and have a good night….”

Peter’s voice trailed off, and you chimed in. “It’s not just about a movie, Pete. And I can’t let you act like it was ever just about a movie. Let’s just talk for a bit and see what happens. I might not know what happened out there, but the one thing I know is that you’re a hero, Peter. You’re my hero. So please, just tell me what’s bothering you, and then we can move on.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. Something isn’t right and you can’t keep it inside forever.”

“I-It’s really nothing. There’s no use talking about it anyway, it won’t change what happened.”

“That’s a start… What happened then? What’s so bad that you can’t even tell your girlfriend?” He shook his head and you asked again, “Peter, c’mon. You can tell me. What happened?”

“Can you please stop asking?” He played with his fingers, his eyes still fixated on a dent in the floorboard.

“I can’t stop. Because if I stopped, that would mean I stopped loving you. And I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Not in this lifetime.”

Peter looked sadly at you, tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. “I did everything right. I tried to do everything right. And I still… I messed up so bad. London would still be fine if it wasn’t for me. Did you know that?” He let out a sad, sarcastic chuckle. “London was all my fault.”

“Peter, you saved London. You di–”

Peter cut you off, running his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have had to save London if I hadn’t given E.D.I.T.H. to Beck.”

You looked at him in disbelief and it finally hit you how little you knew about the situation. But before Peter could see the shock in your eyes, you changed your expression, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Quentin tricked me. I-I guess I was so stupid that I let him trick me and I gave E.D.I.T.H. to him and that’s why he was able to attack London. A-and I’m the reason that attack happened in the first place! I’m the reason a hundred people died! I’m the reason th-that Beck almost tricked the whole world! Tony never should’ve given me E.D.I.T.H.… Beck could’ve killed like a million peo–”

“Peter.” You squeezed his shoulder, “You can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t let him kill a million people and now he never will, because you stopped him. Tony gave you E.D.I.T.H. because he trusted you, and he was right to do so. You figured out that Beck was bad before Paranoid Fury even doubted him, just think about that. You figured it out before Paranoid Fury. That’s incredible. And I know you think you don’t deserve E.D.I.T.H., but no one else could have taken down Beck on their own. Not like you did. So, like it or not, you’re kind of the best superhero we’ve got.”

You opened your arms, beckoning for him to sit back on the sofa with you. Peter gave you a teary smile and climbed onto the sofa, leaning into your arms. You cradled his head as he cried into your shoulder, his tears staining your sweater. 

“It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” For almost ten minutes, he lay in your arms as you repeated the reassuring phrase.

His breathing slowed and his eyes dried once more, though they were still red and puffy. Peter released himself from your embrace and laid across your lap, looking up and into your eyes.

“I gotta go hit the head.”

You looked at Peter with confusion, “I’m sorry, what? Did you really just say ‘hit the head’?”

“What? It’s a totally normal phrase.” He pouted at you.

“Just say you ‘need to go to the bathroom’ like a normal person… Oh m-you totally stole that from Fury or Cap didn’t you? Which one was it?”

Peter suddenly seemed very embarrassed, “Fury…”

“I knew it! Now go to the bathroom, weirdo. I’ll be waiting for you so we can choose our next movie.”

“‘Kay. Be right back”

Peter rushed out and somehow came back from the bathroom within a minute.

“I think I know which movie I wanna watch.” He flashed a shy smile at you.

“I don’t care what you wanna watch unless you washed your hands.”

Peter whined, “But I did wash them.”

“There’s literally no way you washed your hands and went to the bathroom in less than a minute. That would be impossible.”

“I totally did wash my hands, but I guess I could wash them again.” 

“Good to hear. So, what movie did you wanna watch, Parker?”

Peter handed you the same A New Hope DVD that he had dropped onto the sofa ten minutes prior. You rolled your eyes at him, holding the movie from the corner using only your pointer and thumb. As a condition, you told him he had to wash his hands in the kitchen sink (so you could watch him) before you would start the movie. After he did his part, you placed the disc into the DVD player and looked back at Peter while you waited for the film to appear onscreen. 

“Hey, Peter.” He lifted his head from the sofa’s cushions and propped it up, on one hand, waiting to hear what you had to say. “I know I was just joking around a few minutes ago, but I have to say something serious again. Next time something like this happens, you have to let it out. Whether that means talking to me, May, or Ned, you can’t let this-this darkness eat you up. Because, frankly, there’s a whole lifetime of darkness down the line and that’ll be the case for the rest of eternity. But what always made you different from Bucky, or Tony, or Cap, or any of them, is that you’ve never let yourself get caught up with that ‘darkness’. So don’t give up now. I know it’s a tough fight– well I’ll never know– but still, you can’t let the darkness take your shine away. You are the funniest, most intelligent, and kindest person I’ve ever met. Please, just don’t let anyone or anything ever take that from you.”

You had been staring at the coffee table between you and Peter this whole time and when you tilted your head back up in Peter’s direction, you noticed how shocked he seemed. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes maintained a soft gaze as if he was struggling to process this information. Peter sat up and grabbed a pillow from beside him, hugging it tightly to his chest. 

“I-I–” Peter was on the verge of saying something but was cut off by the film’s characteristic intro music. 

As the movie started, you crawled back up onto the sofa with Peter, and this time you rested your head on the pillow in his lap. You grew tired after the first hour and drifted to sleep, though Peter was still wide awake by the end. He let you sleep comfortably, still resting your head upon his lap as he stroked your cheek. Soon after, Peter dozed off as well, still sitting tall.

  The next morning, May saw that you were both still sound asleep and since it was already close to noon, she thought waking you up would be a great idea. She crept up behind the sofa, walking slowly and quietly until she was right behind both of you. May leaned over the sofa, peering down at your sleeping figures, and yelled while waving her arms wildly.

“WAKE UP! THERE’S ALIENS AGAIN! LOKI IS HERE! AAAHHHHH!”

Peter jumped up, knocking May over and dropping you onto the ground where you woke momentarily before closing your eyes and rolling under the coffee table. He turned left and right looking for aliens and destruction, still in a half-asleep daze. 

“Where are they!?!” He ran into his room, slamming the door open and throwing his belongings everywhere. “I can’t find my suit! MAYYYYYY! Where– Ohhhhh.”

He calmed down the second he took a look outside, realizing that May had just pranked him. “Haha. Very funny May,” said Peter sarcastically.

He walked back into the living room where May was still sitting on the ground and you had fallen asleep again. May laughed at Peter and gave him a pat on the back as he helped her up.

“I thought that was pretty funny, didn’t you? I mean, definitely not my best work, but not bad for a prank that only took five seconds of planning.”

Sass dripped from Peter’s words, “Mhmm. Sooooo funny, May. That totally wasn’t cruel at all. If I didn’t know any better, I might even say that was borderline emotional abuse.”

“Oh hush, Peter. You know it’s all just jokes and love with me.”

Peter laughed at May and went around to the other side of the couch where he had dropped you on the floor. You were a deep sleeper, both a blessing and a curse in a city that actually got attacked by one of the big three every other week. Peter crouched down, lowering himself onto his hands and knees until he came face to face with you. 

He set a hand on your back, shaking you gently. “Hey, sleepyhead. Do you wanna wake up? It’s almost lunchtime… I know how much you love lunch.”

Your eyes opened slowly and a smirk appeared on your lips, “Did you say ‘lunch’?”

  You and Peter were getting ready to go out with May for a fun Sunday brunch-lunch. While he and May had inherited some money from Tony, they only let themselves spend it on Sundays. They decided they wanted to try out some weird and somewhat fancy French restaurant in Chelsea and invited you to go along with them. The only problem was that you forgot to pack an overnight bag and had nothing to change into. 

“Uhhhh, Peter. You wouldn’t happen to have any extra clothes lying around that I could borrow? Maybe, just like for today? Pants and a shirt would work just fine, like literally anything.”

“I have to-uhhhh I have to check. Yeah. I have to check… Just give me a minute here.” Peter started pacing around his room, digging through piles of unfolded laundry. “Change of plans, I’m gonna check with May. I can’t seem to find anything nice.”

As Peter walked out of the room he placed his cell phone on his bedside table. A horrible idea flashed through your mind and before you could think it through, you already had Peter’s phone in your hands. You racked your brain trying to remember his passcode until you remembered what a fanboy he was. The passcode was 1999, the year The Phantom Menace came out. And while you didn’t agree that it was the best of the Star Wars movies, you let him think that you did. 

You scrolled through Peter’s contacts, looking for Happy Hogan, but unfortunately, he had replaced everyone’s names with emojis. Basically, he had made it impossible for anyone other than him to access his contacts list. Remembering that the text app would let you search for keywords from old conversations, you typed in “Hi, Happy. It’s Peter.” knowing that there was an extremely high chance that Peter had sent his first text to Happy in that format. Just as you had suspected, one conversation appeared. The contact name had a smiling emoji followed by a little house and a wrestler. You clicked on the contact info and it displayed Happy’s phone number. Grabbing your own phone from your pocket, you copied down the number before exiting out of the text app and placing Peter’s phone exactly where it had been before. 

You sat down on Peter’s bed, surrounded by his laundry, and waited for him to return. While you waited, you started drafting a message to Happy. 

“Hey, Happy… it’s me, Peter’s girlfriend. I kinda need a favor so if you could maybe give me a call sometime that would be really great. Thanks!” It looked and sounded horrible, but frankly, it was the only thing you could come up with. 

  Four days later, Happy called you, and he wasn’t very happy about it. 

“Okay, kid. What do you want? And make it quick because Pepper’s got me working way more than I get paid for.”

Despite your preparation, your anxiety got the best of you when you realized you would actually have to speak with Happy. “Oh, um hi Mr. Happy. So basically I need your help to surprise Peter–”

Happy interrupted you, “What? Why do you need my help?”

“Well, you see, Peter lost his uncle Ben’s luggage when he went to Europe, and Peter has a very strong emotional connection to the bag because Ben is dead. Oh gosh, that sounded really bad. But what I’m trying to say is that I need your help to recreate uncle Ben’s bag so I can surprise Peter for his birthday!”

 “That’s it? You could’ve just texted me and I would already have the bag in production. Geez. I’ll see if I can find any photos of the bag in the Stark Database, but send me over what you have to speed things up, alright? Talk to ya later, kid.”

He had hung up before you could even thank him. His bluntness made sense considering he had a lot on his plate, grief included, so you decided to find as many photos of Ben’s luggage as you could to make his job easier. You texted May asking about the bag, saying that you were just curious, and omitted your secret. To your surprise, May actually had detailed photos of the bag from when Ben bought it to take on their honeymoon. You thanked her repeatedly and immediately sent the photos to Happy who merely replied with a thumbs-up emoji. 

  August tenth approached quickly and before you knew it, Peter’s birthday was there. Happy had someone drop off the replica at your apartment and you were suddenly very thankful that Peter was too busy to randomly swing by anymore. Whoever wrapped the suitcase made sure that it was very obviously a suitcase, they even wrapped the handle separately from the rest of the bag. Who even does that?

You hauled the luggage up the steep stairs leading up to your apartment, wondering why Peter would take such an inconvenient item with him. Then, it hit you again. First, he’s Spider-Man so the bag probably felt light as a feather to him. And second, emotions influence people into making weird decisions. You ran to unwrap it as soon as you shut your front door. Ripping off the thick brown paper, the luggage’s natural, and beautiful, navy blue shone through. You marveled at the leatherwork and the shiny “B.F.P.” embossed between the buckles. This bag was something you had seen time and time again at Peter’s apartment, yet it wasn’t until now that you realized just how beautiful it was. 

After heading out to a local craft store to get some nicer wrapping paper and a real box, you returned home to wrap up Peter’s present. Despite your best efforts to not wrap his present up the same way as the idiot who wrapped it the first time, your wrapping job ended up looking minimally better. The only redeeming part was the wrapping paper. Unfortunately, you had mismeasured and just the handle did not fit into the box, sticking out ever so slightly and creating a noticeable lump in the wrapping paper. You brainstormed for nearly an hour, testing out a dozen different ideas before you realized what you needed, was a bow. You returned to the craft store, digging through bins of bows, ribbons, and yarns until you found a giant blue bow made of at least thirty thin ribbons. The finishing touch fixed all of your worries and made Peter’s present look like a really showy box, which was exactly what you were going for. 

  On the day of Peter’s birthday party, you had to drag his huge gift box across five blocks, through two line changes, and in the dark. Peter decided that since he was turning 17, though he would have been 22 if he hadn’t blipped, he deserved a “big boy” party, and apparently, that meant having a party at night time. By the time you arrived at Avenger’s Tower, where he said would “be the absolute best spot to have a birthday bash”, the bottom of the wrapping paper had gotten ripped off and only the cardboard remained. For a split second, you wished that you had kept the bag’s handle outside of the wrapping paper, but ultimately, you knew that wrapping it the way you did would make surprising Peter much more fun. 

You took the elevator up to one of the top floors, accompanied by Ned and Bruce Banner. The entire ride up, not a single word was spoken, and the corny elevator music served only to intensify the awkwardness. The three of you rushed out when the doors opened, not even waiting for the elevator voice to finish telling you what floor you were on. Banner went straight to the sofa area where Thor and Valkyrie were talking. You and Ned, however, teamed up to look for Peter.

“So, uh, what’s in the box?” Ned pointed to the present you were dragging across the smooth tile.

“It’s just Peter’s present.”

“Well, yeah. I know that, but like,” Ned lowered his voice and covered his mouth, “what’s in it?”

“It’s a surprise, Ned. I can’t tell you because then you’ll just tell Peter and then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

“Ooohhhh, gotcha. Gotcha. Surprise, huh? Are you sure you can’t tell me? I promise I won’t tell Peter.”

You looked at Ned, “I’m sure, Ned. Now help me figure out where to put this box, it’s kinda heavy and I don’t like lugging it around.”

Ned helped you with the box, carrying both his and your presents until you came across the present table. May was in charge of the table and took the presents gladly. 

“Hi, May! Have you seen Peter around?” You asked her.

“Sorry kiddos, I haven’t seen him since Thor got here. Did you check the lounge area? That’s where Thor always hangs out so he might still be over there.”

Ned chimed in this time, “Nah, he’s not there. Mr. Thor was though. I’m sure we’ll find him later. Thanks, Ms. Parker!”

The two of you left May at the table, looking all over for Peter. Finally, you found him on the upper level of the room talking to Shuri. He waved at you and Ned to join him, motioning to the stairs to his left. 

You started a conversation as you climbed the stairs, “Hey, Pete! Hey, Shuri! How are y’all doing?” 

“Good! Hurry up or you’ll miss the fireworks,” Shuri urged you and Ned to hurry up.

Peter turned to Shuri and rolled his eyes, “Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell them, I wanted them to think it was a surprise, not that we planned it!”

Ned chimed in, “What? Did you want us to think you had a secret admirer? Because we all know that Flash is your only admirer.”

You high-fived Ned for his great comeback, though you couldn’t help but correct him. “Excuse me, but I like to consider myself the best Peter Parker admirer. Flash is only a Spidey admirer. There’s a difference!”

The four of you hung out on the balcony for the rest of the night, occasionally chatting with other Avengers or friends that happened to pass along. You could tell that Peter and Ned were missing MJ at the party, but her parents had decided to move to a more rural area immediately after the trip, making it near impossible for her to come to the party. Still, along with Shuri’s help, you were able to keep Ned and Peter happy and entertained until it was time for cake and presents. 

  Everyone gathered around the long, glass table with Peter sitting at the very front. You and Ned each stood on either side of him, while May stood immediately behind him. Barton walked into the room carrying a large, two-tiered cake that was decorated like Tony’s arc reactor. Peter had asked for it specifically, as one last tribute to Tony. Originally, Scott had offered to bake the cake, claiming that baking was one of the many talents he acquired while on house arrest. It turned out, that Scott only thought he was a good baker because he was the only one eating his treats and had grown accustomed to the bad tastes and textures. Luckily, May had asked Scott to bring her a sample a week before the party, so we still had enough time to ask Clint’s wife to help us instead. 

Sam lit the seventeen candles on the cake quickly, only stopping when Bucky added an eighteenth candle for “good luck”. Leading the awkward celebration, Scott began singing “Happy Birthday”; the other Avengers followed awkwardly. Thor sang louder than everyone else despite not knowing the lyrics, and Shuri joined him. Barton, Fury, Hill, and Bucky all stood awkwardly while lipsyncing the words. You, May, Sam, Ned, Bruce, Hope, Happy, Pepper, Morgan, and Strange were the only ones singing normally, though normal was never a great descriptor for any of Peter’s “coworkers”.  Peter blew out his candles shyly as the song came to a close and muttered “thank you” under his breath when he realized they hadn’t put trick candles on his cake this time. 

Thor’s booming voice cut through the chatter, “Well, Midguardian, when can we see these gifts of yours? I am quite interested in knowing what marvels lie on that table.”

“Oh. Ummm. Sorry, Mr. Thor, I wasn’t really planning on opening those at the party. It was going to be more of a private thing… like just me.”

“Nonsense, young one! You should open them all here. In front of your friends! We will not judge if you receive odd gifts, why that only makes it more exciting!”

Peter looked anxiously between you, Ned, and Shuri, trying to see if any of you had gotten him embarrassing gifts that might require privacy. Ned and Shuri shook their heads reassuringly, and although your gift was not embarrassing, you weren’t sure it warranted an audience.

You leaned down to Peter’s ear and whispered to him, “My present isn’t really embarrassing or inappropriate or anything, but it’s a bit special. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take it off the table and hide it so Thor doesn’t make you open it. Is that alright?”

Peter looked up at you, grabbing your hand, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. To be honest, I don’t feel like opening any of them in front of a crowd. But go do what you have to, I’ll keep him distracted for a minute.”

You thanked Peter and slipped away. As you were walking towards the gift table you heard Peter yelling something about cake, followed by Thor, Scott, and Sam cheering. Whatever it was, it was probably going to distract them for longer than you needed. You dug around looking for your box, finding it hidden under a dozen gift bags. Carefully, you moved each gift bag to the side until you could pull the box from the pile. You fixed the table, leaving it almost the same as you had found it, and looked around for a place to hide your present. Towards the end of the hallway, you found the perfect hiding spot beneath a wide leather chair. You hid the box and returned quickly to the party, hoping that no one noticed your absence.

  After everyone had gone home, and May had fallen asleep on Thor’s favorite sofa, you finally gave Peter his present. He ripped the torn, dusty, and grimy wrapping paper away from the gift, pulling chunks of the cardboard box along with it. 

The second he laid eyes on the dark blue leather and brown handle, he knew what you had gotten him. “Oh my… No way…”

Peter didn’t even wait to finish opening the present before pulling you into a warm embrace. He hugged you tightly and you felt a tear hit your back.

“I’m really hoping those are happy tears.”

Peter pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Definitely happy tears.”

“Good, because I really wasn’t planning on this being a sad moment.”

“How? W-How did you even get this? I thought I had lost it, or-or gotten it blown up! Oh my gosh… I-I still can’t believe this. Thank you so much! Really. Thank you.” Peter released his grip on your shoulders, moving his hands up slowly until they cupped your face. He looked solemnly into your eyes, waiting for a look of agreement, before kissing you softly.

“You’re welcome, Pete. But just so you know, it's just a replica. I'm not quite sure what happened to the real bag… you should thank Happy too, he helped me figure this all out.”

“I’ll definitely thank him later. But seriously, this might be one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

You smiled at his giddiness and joked, “I would hope so, I’m the one who gave it to you!”

“I don’t want to get all sappy, but thank you for not letting the darkness get to me. If it hadn’t been for your little pep-talk, I might still be letting that darkness eat at me, and I’m guessing that wouldn’t be great. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. No matter how much bad there is down the line, I don’t ever wanna feel like that again. I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’re in my life. I mean it.”

“I know, and I love you too, I love you through the Blip and back.”

{can someone lmk if this story is any good? I’m having some doubts 😭}

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Heart of the Wild (Ch.2)

Notes: Originally it was suppose to be two Chapters, but alright, three. Apparently tigers can’t purr in real life? Well in this fic, he can bc of reasons.  I just wanted to add in Izuku being the adorable, helpful younger “brother” that he is in the fic :3

Warnings: Consensual smut. Like, right in the beginning when you first start reading, there’s some self stuff, but that’s about it.

He bit the back of his hand, pupils blown wide as he let out a growl of frustration. He was far, far away from his hut, but the lingering smell of an omega’s heat, could be carried away from miles. He tried not to let his mind wonder, to let his frustrations and pent up sexual desires get the best of him.

Of course, he had felt guilty, wanting to just fuck and claim the rabbit as his, but he refused. She wasn’t coherent, they were strangers, and he rather crawl in a trench and never see the sunlight again, than to take advantage of somebody like that.

His trousers were looped around his ankles, letting the chill of the cold air hopefully douse out the heat of his lust-filled mind. Ever since traveling far away from his parents, everyone was too scared to touch him, lest look at him in that sort of manner. Those who he was close to, he saw as sons and family, they were never close to the rabbit’s image that popped into his head, at this moment. He hissed, finding his hands wrapped around himself, tugging at the head as his hips moved on their own whim as he leaned forwards against the tree.

This was dangerous, he knew. Elbow in front of his face as it rested against the bark of the wood, he bit his bottom lip in a growl, letting the feral beast in which was his pent up lust, consume him. Although his length was barbed, it was soft flesh that didn’t hurt his hand. He knew that it was mainly a purpose to keep seed within the womb, not to hurt, and with that thought, his hips stuttered before he quickened his pace, thumbing the head as precum leaked out, letting his imagination run wild, before the guilt would settle in.

 Would she be shy? Or tell him bluntly in what she would want? He shouldn’t even be thinking of her like this, but it was tough not too, him having the primal urge to just wreck the omega in all of the right ways, preferably with a mating bite. He bit the back of his fist, hissing as his hips stuttered, painting the poor tree white with the gunk of his shot.

It wasn’t his first thought, or usual way of marking his territory, but it would have to do, for now.

…………

Sunlight had poked through the hut at this time. You, being freshly tired and worn out, had tried your best to feed the fire with what wood had been there. As for the bedding, you didn’t have an inkling on what to do with it, deciding to set it aside with your shame and guilt, and yet, relief.

A slow, slight knocking, had rung on the door, snapped you out of your thoughts as you froze with fear.

“U-um! Excuse me! My name’s Izuku! Tai-chan sent me here to check up on you!” A squeak on the other side announced, and your shoulders relaxed at the familiar name. He, like you, was a rabbit omega, if anything, he would be immune to your scent, and could help tidy up.

“Come in.” You announced after making sure that you were clothed well. The door creaked open slowly with shaky hands, a mop of green hair, eyes, twitching ears, and a freckled face peeked in as his scent, sweet grass mixed in with a slightly spicy tone, wafted towards you.

“Oh, good, you’re dressed and coherent!” He sighed with relief, inviting himself in, holding a bucket full of wool blankets, as well as a walking stick. Before you could speak, the other rabbit jumped in, first.

“Oh, gosh! I bet he didn’t say anything about this, didn’t he? I think Tai-chan knew what he was getting into when caring for an injured, heated omega, but he probably didn’t tell you that it was okay to get things a bit messy. Messes like slick are easily to clean, luckily, thus I brought the bucket. Oh! You must be hungry! There should be some leftover stew, Tai had said!” The dwarf rabbit rambled, his short ears twitching with excitement as he laid out spare blankets out from the bucket, as well as a hairbrush, twine, soap, a spare tunic, and a small jar full of a dark green substance.

He handed you the stick, rushing over towards the still bubbling stew as he hummed excitedly, introducing himself.

“Omegas are pretty rare, did you know? So I hope that we become good friends! The bucket is to drawl water from the nearest stream, and we can wash those dirty sheets, as well as you take a bath. Thus the hairbrush and twine, so you can put up your hair, if you want.” He explained, glancing at you with a sweet smile as he plopped several spoonfuls of soups into two separate bowls.

You thanked him, telling your name and your story as the two of you ate, talking between swallowing bites of food. The cheerful omega was younger than you, yet was in his late teens or early twenties, him stating that he had found Eiji, his mate, when the two of them were nineteen summer’s old.

“Are you around many omegas in heat?” You tried asking. For a second, he stilled, looking at you with surprise, and then shook his head.

“Our dynamic is so rare, it’s comical. Of course, I’ve had to find ways to spend my own heats, and found it easier when you bite somebody, or creating a mating mark. Also, when your mate covers you in their own scent, giving off your status as ‘taken, don’t bother’.” Izuku finished, setting his bowl next to your empty one, as he grabbed the bucket and used sheets and utensils.

“There’s a safe path to the river, I’ll give you some privacy, but be near enough to sense if you’re in danger. Since this forest has probably less than ten occupants, you should be safe with us around.” He explained, and you thanked him as you hoisted yourself up with the stick, avoiding to use your hurt ankle.

……….

You didn’t get a clear outside view of Taishiro’s hut, but when you did, you admitted freely, that it was beautiful and well built. As Izuku rambled, he shown you the small beaten path in which led to a clear, cool stream. Of course, he promised you your privacy as he gave you a bar of lard soap, the tunic, and the oil within the jar was to clean your hair. Laying the spare tunic and essentials on the bank of the stream bed, he rushed off, promising you that he’d be near.

You didn’t waste any time, slipping into the cool water, setting your walking stick onto the bank as you sat in the shallow stream. Being from a nomadic lifestyle, you were use to taking baths within rivers and streams with your fellow women, each keeping a lookout for troublesome snoopers. Since the forest was pretty dim, all you really had to worry about, were the smells of strangers. Feeling a sense of security, you relished in having your heated skin flushed down by the slow moving stream, helping matters greatly as you sunk lower, taking off your old wet clothing, setting it aside to lather yourself and it in soap.

When you were done, you were freezing, but cleaned and wet hair out of the way. Newly clothed and leaning on your stick, you shouted out for Izuku, and waited. Immediately, your new friend popped up out of nowhere, smiling as he held a bucket of clean, yet wet clothes.

“Let’s head back, warm up, and dress your wounds!” He smiled, brightly.

………..

Having Izuku around, had helped matters, greatly. Of course, he went home during certain times, refusing to part with his mate for a while, and you were left alone, yet safe, clean, and dry within the hut as you swore that the sweet yet earthy scent was stronger than ever. You guessed that he had came back when you and Izuku were gone, eating quickly, and reorganizing things.

Although grateful, you tried your best to help around within the weeks of your heat. You learned from the smaller rabbit, how to cook, clean more regularly around you, and even garden a little when your heat wasn’t at it’s most terrible state. Of course, you were apologizing heavily to Izuku from the other side of the door, stating that you couldn’t have visitors on some days, and he had understood, promising to be back, later.

While feeling gross and tired, you didn’t dare enter the forest, alone, opting to keep busy, tidying the small hut the best you could, and brushing out your wild hair, neatly braiding it, thanks to your new friend’s teachings. You didn’t see or hear from Tai, but his scent was always around, close and promising to protect, and that itself, comforted you at your most stressful times. Heat being heat, only lasted two weeks, and then the post-smell, had to fade.

By this time, it was safe for you to meet Eijirou, Izuku’s wolf mate, as well as Tai’s other adopted son, Tamaki, the ever elusive snow leopard who had promised to guard the area around the forest as a favor. Although strangers, you knew that they were trustworthy, putting their time and effort in making sure that you were alright, and of course, you couldn’t be thankful enough, making supper for them.

“Now that your heat’s over and ankle’s healing, where will you go?” Eijirou asked, and you felt yourself stilling. You didn’t think about that. Instead, you just smiled, and handed him a bowl of stew, telling him that you think of something. After everyone had left, you cleaned had cleaned up. The last time that you’ve seen the tiger, was when he had rescued you, and already, you couldn’t help but miss the person who was responsible for your safety.

It wasn’t right for you to stay, you admitted. Although he stated that you could find a place in the forest, if you wanted to, you had felt that you’ve already taken too much, especially his home and food. Your ankle was healing, nicely, and a week from now, Izuku had said that you could probably walk, but not run onto it.

“Somethin’ on yer mind?” Taishiro’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Quickly turning towards him, you’ve noticed that the man was holding the door open, looking at you quizzically. Seeing your surprised expression, he rolled his eyes.

“Been tryin’ to get yer attention for a bit, now. Mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ through that head of yers?” He asked, shutting the door behind him, as he sat down on a nearby stool. Your ears flickered before laying back.

“Where have you been staying at this whole time?” You questioned. At first, he had a blank look on his face, and then realization hit as his tail swished heavily, ears flickering wildly.

“You…were worried ‘bout me?”

You gave him a deadpanned look.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve been living in your home, using your food- Tai, you’ve looked out for me, a practical stranger, sacrificing your own safety and shelter…do you ever look after yourself?” You couldn’t help but blurt out, but then gently asking the last question. He swallowed thickly, casting his eyes to the side as warmth spread across his cheeks.

“I usually don’t do this for others, but it seems that you’ve shown yer gratitude by helpin’ out as much as ya could. Talked to Izuku, learned that you were really doin’ well, and given that ya’re concerned ‘bout me an’ tryin’ to pay it back, I don’t regret my choice.” He finished, warm amber irises daring to meet yours in his decision. It was your turn to break away from the oddly heated stare.

“I don’t know what’re gonna do, when yer ankle’s healed, but, I’d like to get to know ya, a lil’ more. If…if ya wanna stay.” He said it so quickly, but you heard it loud and clear.

“Tai-” You began, but he hummed.

“If ya wanna live in the forest, we could always build ya a small den, or a hut. Won’t be much, but it’d be somethin’.” He admitted. Without thinking, your body acted on it’s own accord.

“Wai-wah?!” He grunted in surprise as you hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest as heat rushed to your face as you realized in what you had just done, but you didn’t regret it, especially hearing the sound of his fluttering heartbeat, and his natural scent in which calmed you down.  

“Thank You.” Was all you could say, really. To your small surprise, you felt his arms wrap around you as you heard very, very subtle purring rumble through him.

“Notta problem, Sweetheart.”

…………….

         It didn’t take your ankle long to heal. Being in the forest for the last month, you’ve admitted that not only had time passed, quickly, but you were getting more mentally mature and physically well. Of course, you were confused by your own feelings for the nurturing man, but you didn’t mind the too long hugs, the subtle touches in fixing bandages, and eye contact. You favorite had to be a border of pillows were between the two of you, as you both laid on the big bed, talking about everything and nothing while the fire crackled and lit up the dark room. It was a platonic distance, you refusing him to sleep on the harsh wood, and insisting that a pillow wall could work on the giant bed.

You never really shared one, but you liked his company as he talked about his family, his past, and how he came to adopt Eijirou and Tamaki. You listened intently, ever so curious, learning that he wanted to find a place of his own, like his father had before him, and settle down with a mate and cubs. You were lucky that the pillows had hid you, for you couldn’t help but feel your face begin to redden as he, oblivious to your small plight, went on about how basically everyone was scared of him, or didn’t want to do with him.  

   Your racing heartbeat slowed as he hummed that he was glad that he found his boys, the small wolf furiously protecting the slightly older leopard cub against stray coyotes.

“Winter’s cruel, but so are the lousy parents who leave their pups n’ cubs.” He said icily, a spike of anger seeped into his scent.

You liked him. Even when your ankle healed, he housed you as the two of you made plans to build a small space for you to live in. Fear of rejection had kept your tongue tied into silence. Your inner demons, although small, caged your rational thoughts as time crawled forward slowly. Since you have been able to properly walk, you’ve foraged, gardened, and explored more of the forest, collecting things that could be useful, as well as venturing towards the icy cool river to wash dirty plates and blankets. It was more so of your gratitude, rather than it being an actual chore, that you didn’t mind doing these things.

Taishiro himself, not only prowled to keep the area safe, but he had a lot of times shared time with you, insisting that it was his mess, too, as he scrubbed the soup bowls into the icy water. It being winter, he wasn’t as active in the spring, yet he had wood chopped not only for his small fireplace, but to be turned into logs for a couple of buildings, one was a small house for actual chickens.

You cocked you head.

“Chickens? Where would you get those?”

 As if surprised by your answer, he palmed his forehead.

“I’m kinda dense, Hon. I didn’t tell ya that there was a village nearby, didn’t I? Well, not really near, maybe a couple of day’s journey, but I thought nothin’ of it since I don’t really go there, often.” He admitted guiltily, but you were surprised that a village was within the reach of the tundra. Speaking your thoughts, his tail twitched as his ears perked, seemingly glad that you weren’t upset of his forgetfulness of the place.

“They’re alright, a lil’ skittish. They use clothes an’ food for currency, and every once a great while, I get some trousers or somethin’ from there.” He mulled over the idea, sneaking glances at your weathered tunic.

“Might not be so bad in getting’ some chickens. Fried eggs sound great, right about now.” He murmured, instead.

[euphorianyx]

DADDY ISSUES [Dawn] -4-

Pairing: JungKook & Reader Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst Summary: You believe you know someone you live together but that only counts if they are true to themselves. Can love really change someone or do they just hold back? What if you are yet to meet the dark side? Will you stay to handle all that or will you walk away? When there is something you have to protect, the choice is not really yours so you just do what you think is the best.

AN: If you just found this story you can read the prequel here.

Other Chapters

Your eyes were captivated by NamJoon until you averted your gaze.

“I don’t think that’s...”

He cut you off gently.

“Just think about it Y/N... I am mostly at university or at the company so I will not be around much. You will have your own room and will not pay for anything.”

You shook your head indicating you did not agree. Head in front NamJoon tilted his head once before he leaned towards you.

“I know why you are hesitating Y/N but remember...I am someone Mr. Jeon trusts.”

After coming back to your senses you weighted your options. Living with a man would not sound that good but you could get the news through NamJoon. Even if you were the one to leave, your heart still belonged to JungKook. You could not help but wonder what he was doing. You knew you had no chance to know except NamJoon. When he saw you nod NamJoon was surprised. 

“I will pack my things and come back tomorrow.”

With that, there was nothing much to talk about so you left to take care of the things you should. As soon as you did NamJoon grabbed his phone to inform him about the situation.

Seol In was sad when you explained you had to leave. Of course you left out the part about NamJoon. She saw you off the door with her good wishes then NamJoon picked you up by the end of the street. You did not have much left so your suitcase easily fit his car’s trunk.

When you arrived at his home, the sky was already dark so NamJoon turned the lights on. The room he led you was simple yet nice. Walls were champagne colored. The single bed, small wardrobe, and small desk were all classic wood and gave off a natural vibe. You could tell you already liked it and the parent's bathroom was a big plus for you. 

After your stuff was neat in their places you let out a deep breath. When you were finally back to the living room NamJoon awkwardly stood up with his hand at the back of his neck.

“Are you hungry? I just thought ... we could have dinner together.”

You let out a small smile.

“Yes, I am... Are we going to order?”

NamJoon went through the app to find something decent and you decided on Subway. You ordered two sandwiches with picked ingredients. The first night felt a little weird so you hardly fell asleep. The next few days were kind of easier but you did not even see NamJoon that much. Besides, you did not feel uncomfortable when he was around.  

You were back early that day so you decided to cook. You were going through the shelves at the market to find the last ingredient of your simple meal for tonight. Your eyes landed on the mushrooms nicely waiting in their package. With no hesitation, you grabbed it then made your way towards the cashier but stopped on your track. Sanitary pads by the hygiene area caught your eyes.

Then you realized you did not have your period yet. In fact, it has been a month and three weeks. You shook your head thinking it was probably the stressful time you were going through and moved.

Walking towards home the doubt came back when you saw the small chemist by the corner. You did not know how to ask for such a thing so proceed to pass by. After a deep sigh, you stopped on your track. Totally unprepared you walked in. The brunette lady in white apron welcomed you. You bit down your lip, considering just asking for a painkiller. Under her soft gaze, you went for it.

“Can I get a pregnancy test, please.”

She kindly held it out for you with a sweet smile. You had no idea if you had the courage to do it but pushed it inside your bag. When you arrived his flat you busied yourself with dinner. Trying to focus you washed and peeled the mushrooms and saute them in the pan. Preparing the sauce and boiling the pasta, it was finally ready. 

Undecided if you should text NamJoon, you stood there with your phone in your hand. Then you heard the faint sound of his keys. He was surprised a little when he found you in the kitchen. NamJoon greeted you with a gentle smile.

“Did you cook?”

After a shy nod, you explained.

“I don’t know if you like mushroom though...”

NamJoon shrugged as he hung his jacket to the rack.

“I don’t really mind but some wine would go well with it.”

Considering you still had no courage to take the test a couple glasses of wine could provide it. Approving the offer you opened the cupboard. The glasses were at the top shelf so you tiptoed but found it hard to reach. Suddenly you felt NamJoon standing behind you as his hand raised to grab two glasses. There was almost no space and the stare you exchanged was silent but heavy. Within a short moment, he took a step back, trying to ease the tension.

“White, I guess...”

Thank god the dinner was not as awkward as you thought it would be. You chatted about daily matters so it was just casual and easy. The clock was ticking and it was already midnight. You both said goodnight so you were by yourself at your bedroom. 

There you stood in front of the mirror of your small bathroom. The package laying before your eyes seemed small but the result was going to be heavy. Your heart was beating faster than ever so you decided to use some cold water to calm down. Drying your face with the towel you left it back after a sigh. There was no need to avoid it anymore. Thinking it was related to the stress again you pulled the white stick. 

Those few moments you waited were the longest of your entire life. You wanted it... You wanted his baby but how could you have it. A few more moments passed by until you turned it around to see the result.

Positive

Eyes wide you stared at the small box again. You were pregnant. Putting the test away you tried to calm down before you did anything. When you realized you would have to tell JungKook the weight on your shoulders was almost doubled. You had no idea what his reaction would be but it was worse if you kept it a secret. He needed to know about his own baby.

Blood still rushing in your veins you grabbed your black jeans and a simple grey top. Trying not to wake up NamJoon you quietly slipped out the door. What you were doing was crazy but you could not help it. You stopped a taxi and gave the young driver the location. It was not long enough for you to gather your thoughts together but there you were, standing by the huge door of his mansion. Seeing you the security guard was surprised but he let you in anyway. You took a couple of moments before you rang the bell.

JungKook stopped for a good moment trying to process the situation. Chae Soo was right there standing beside Im Won. He grabbed her ankle so Chae Soo lost her balance. His body reacting at its own will JungKook ran towards her to catch her from falling. His large hands were on Chae Soo’s tiny waist as they exchanged a silent look. Im Won tried to roll away but JungKook noticed it. He let Chae Soo go and trapped Im Won on the ground. Jungkook had his feet on his chest with full weight. He leaned in with his elbow resting on his thigh, looking right into Im Won’s eyes.

“What should I do with you?”

His voice was dull, dangerously dull. Im Won begged for his life’s sake but all JungKook did was raise an eyebrow at him.

“You lost my trust.”

JungKook gestured a man to take Chae Soo out but she resisted. In fact she fearlessly had her eyes on him. JungKook realized he will have to take care of things later and directed his attention back to the man betrayed him. Annoyed by the blood and dirt on his designer satin white shirt and Balmain jacket his tongue poked his cheek.

JungKook’s eyes met YugYeom and he gestured him with a simple head tilt. YugYeom had a big barrel of gasoline. JungKook grabbed and forced it in his mouth. Im Won was coughing and spit out some when he pulled it away. Then he soaked Im Won before he handed it back to YugYeom. Another man handed him a pair of handcuffs. JungKook grabbed and dragged him. Him trying to resist ended up with a broken arm. JungKook stopped by one of the platforms. He cuffed Im Won’s wrist to the pole with a gentle grin on his thin lips.

“Consider this my pity or I would break every single bone in your body one by one.”

YugYeom finished spilling the gasoline into a thin line following the place Im Won stood. Walking back with his poker face he stood in front of Chae Soo. His voice was deep when he finally spoke to her.

“You already saw more than you should...just go out.”

Chae Soo averted her gaze for a brief moment. Her eyes were on Im Won as she pulled her lighter.  Her eyes met JungKook again as she held it out for JungKook.

“Did I?”

Her stare was steady and voice was clear. JungKook felt a smirk growing up on his lips while he throwing the lighter on the black marble ground. Flames slowly grew and made their way to Im Won. Within his screams in vain, they engulfed his body. Watching Im Won JungKook had no expression. Chae Soo ignored the sight for the time being and focused on him. When Im Won’s screams died down JungKook turned around so Chae Soo followed him. They left the building in silence.

While they were in his car JungKook tried to wrap his mind around what Chae Soo was actually up to. He did not talk or ask anything for a while. Though Chae Soo could not handle the intensity lingering in the air.

“Listen what happened inside was...”

JungKook did not take his eyes away from the road as he replied with his distant voice.

“Was something you should forget...”

Taking the hint Chae Soo let out a small smile.

“I don’t think I can... but I can be there with you next time.”

Eyes wide JungKook directed his eyes towards her for a brief second. His hands grabbed the steering wheel tighter while he remained silent. He would turn her down right away but the way she did not hesitate stirred his thoughts. JungKook pulled the car by the door of her house. Chae Soo reached for the doorknob but stopped. Biting her lip she turned to JungKook.

“Would you like to come in... to relax a bit?”

The offer would be tempting if your eyes did not hunt him. Anger taking over he simply shook his head.

“Maybe next time.”

Few days were uneventful except work and the times he occasionally spent with Chae Soo. JungKook could not deny she was a good distraction. He did not want to think about you and she seemed to be the only way.

JungKook had another dream of you last night. A very disturbing one indeed. He grabbed his phone a few times during the day. Once he dialed your number but could not make the call. Once he decided to text but deleted it before he could send it. He could not take those dreams anymore since they left a horrible headache and a hole in his chest.

After work, he called Chae Soo to meet. They had dinner at Cassea along with some tasty wine. Chae Soo thought he would drop her at her house like he always did but JungKook hit the pedal even more. Soon they were at the grand door of his mansion. Chae Soo seemed surprised by how big it was. When she stepped out of the car she looked around in awe. With his arm at her back JungKook lead the way through the garden. As soon as they stepped inside Chae Soo’s hands were on each side at the collar of his navy blue jacket. Eyes locked she whispered.

“Please don’t stop me this time Jeon.”

He let her lips slowly discover his but took the control soon. Chae Soo undid the buttons of his jacket then it fell on the ground. JungKook’s hands expertly peeled her white top off and it joined his jacket. Leaving their clothes as a trail, they made their way upstairs. JungKook led the way towards the guest bedroom on the left. 

Soon they were tangled up in green sheets. JungKook poured all his frustration. Chae Soo was a mess beneath him as her moans filled the room. Her touch was not like yours but it did not bother him either. JungKook thrust into her deeper. Throwing her head back Chae Soo was lost in pleasure.

When they both reached their peak the pleasure lasted a while. Jungkook lit up a Cuban cigar while Chae Soo made her way to the bathroom. The sound of running water was disrupted by the bell. JungKook arched an eyebrow as he did not expect anyone at all. He knew the maid already took it but grabbed some sweatpants and a t-shirt. Pushing his damp hair back on his way down his eyes landed on your delicate figure by the door.

Next Chapter

[spookiifi]

A Survivor

Yeah. You don’t have to forgive me for this angst fic.

Warnings: violence, blood and gore, lots of angst, abuse, kidnapping

---

One moment Sasha was instructing Mandalorian servants, the next she was seeing spots and falling through a black hole.

She awoke in a dimly lit room, the air was humid and she could smell the dust. Sasha tugged at her hands, only to find they were bound behind a chair. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

They were never Mandalorians. These pirates used shadow holograms to break in and steal her.

“What do we have here? Looks like the damsel in distress is finally awake.”

Xeo, an elder pirate turned her chin towards him and he flashed a grin. “Smile for us, pretty girl.”

Sasha spit in his face. “Rot in hell, slaver scum.” Xeo snarled and punched her across the face, she was sure he broke her nose.

“Quit that! We need her in perfect condition!” A Trandoshan bounty hunter called from across the room. “Contact Kael and tell him we’ve got a new deal. A fair lady for a fair price.”

“We’re going to be rich.”

Who knew what they could do to her; Sell her for ransom and easily turn her into a slave again? Send her to another location light years away?

‘No, not this time,’ she scowled and quickly browsed through her escape options.

The vibroblade.

It was a gift from Maul. She always kept it with her in case of an emergency like this.

As the group joked and drank, she fiddled with the weapon in her back pocket. She had no idea how they didn’t notice it when they knocked her out. Maybe they were too busy gloating about their upcoming success.

A Zygerrian known as Pantera, who clearly had one too many, stumbled over to Sasha. “Your man can’t help you now, your highness.”

“I don’t need him to help me. That I can do myself.” She kicked upwards, hitting the Quarren between his legs. Her hands were now free, and she took the opportunity to knock her skull into his.

She was trained by Maul to be a warrior, and now was the time to show her strength. ‘Harness your anger and use it to your advantage. Feel it flow through you.’ She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Sasha could feel the force as plunged her dagger into a Twi’lek’s neck. He clutched at his throat, helplessly trying to keep blood from spilling onto his chest. His gurgling ceased as he fell to the floor.

She tried to map out weak spots on the pirates, yet there were too many moving to tell. It was time to go.

“Pantera, now!” Sasha screamed as a round pierced through the back of her shoulder, another through the leg. “Now look what you’ve done, ruining the prize! I said set it to stun!”

She struggled to stand as another bounty hunter pressed his boot into her thigh.

“At first, I wanted to take you in alive. I don’t think the boss cares anymore.” The Zygerrian slammed his foot down on her leg, and she screeched. Tear droplets formed in the corners of her eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that. It will be over soon.”

A blaster shot rang out.

The bounty hunter’s body flopped next to Sasha, the color draining from his eyes.

Someone crashed through the door and the heavy boots of Mandalorian guards thundered through the old building. Somewhere Sasha heard Maul screaming her name, then furiously yelling at Savage to destroy every last pirate.

Boiling white anger coursed through the brothers’ veins. The pirate’s cries meant nothing to them; only weak roaches who blocked their path. They never stood a chance against Maul and Savage as they sliced through the remaining scoundrels into ribbons.

More blaster shots could be heard in the distance, and Sasha’s consciousness began to fade in and out. She blindly groped for her vibroblade, instead she was met with a set of tattooed arms.

Tears streaked down her face. “M-Maul…I can’t move,” she winced as he lifted her off of the cold ground. “Careful!” Ripples of pain traveled down blasted shoulder, she was losing blood fast.

“I’ve got you, my love. Keep your eyes on me.” He rushed aboard the ship with the soldiers, “Stay awake, you have to stay awake.” He never let go of her hand as an IV drip was hooked to her wrist. “I can’t afford to lose you.”

Sasha spent weeks recovering in the medbay. Maul never left her side unless it was mandatory. On most occasions, he’d have Savage keep her company until he arrived.

Maul brought her books from the library to read while he was gone. Then she’d summarize the story when he returned, trying to make light of the recovery.

He was much more aggressive during meetings, snapping at the slightest remarks. Servants avoided him as much as possible.

Eventually, Sasha’s shoulder fully healed, leaving a scar where she was hit. Walking proved to be a difficult task, and it took several weeks until she could support herself. In the early morning hours and evening, a medical droid provided a checkup along with physical therapy.

The very first night Sasha was moved back to her own room with Maul, he became clingy. He never wanted her out of his sight. The Madalorian guards who usually accompanied her were replaced by him. Maximum security took hold of the palace.

Maul would never let this happen again, he swore on his life.

---

Tagging: @tinalbion @a-dorin @maulieber @lestrange2703 @angryp1xel @alicedoestheinternet @queenfurball @botherbother-blog @brilliantbutbatty @zabrak-show

[tangled23works]

No Time To Die

My @olicitytropes story continues. Hope you guys enjoy this update and if you’re fic writers yourselves, they have some wonderful Halloween prompts on their account that you can check out.

Read on Ao3

Or keep reading here

“Do you see them?” Sin whispered close to his ear.

 Oliver didn’t pay much attention to her question but he noticed her tone. Sin was afraid and trying to hide it.

 He was lying down on a filthy roof stalking the man rumored to have created the new drug that plagued the Glades. Sin had provided the information and insisted on accompanying him. Ever since her friend Max had died, she had been determined to bring down the man responsible for the whole operation.

 Count Vertigo was what they called him. A ridiculous name if Oliver had ever heard one.

 “Is there a way in?” Sin asked.

 “There’s always a way,” he replied, thinking once more of the island and his mentor’s teachings.

 There was only one problem. The ‘way’ was a narrow entrance on the right side. There was no cover and if the police entered, the armed men the Count had inside could take them out easily, one by one. Like the Battle of Thermopylae. Of course, since Oliver planned to crash this place alone the point was moot.

 Sin had tried to persuade him to call someone for help but he had refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. Another thing he had learned on the island; fighting alone meant no one could fail you. Relying on yourself, being the weapon was the best option.

 Even if you were facing a crazy drug lord and his minions.

 “I counted five guards while I was waiting for you,” Sin said.

 “Six,” he corrected. “There’s one on the roof.”

 Sin stared at him with admiration. The night was pitch black and the guard was barely visible. “What are you gonna do, Boss?”

 “Don’t call me that. And don’t interfere. Just stay out of my way.” His gruff order sounded harsh but the young girl must have realized that he was worried about her.

 “Head on a swivel,” Sin promised.

 Oliver gave her a short nod and started running in a low crouch across the roof. He had no intention of entering the warehouse through the front door. Ancient Greeks were masters of military tactics but they knew nothing about modern architecture. Reaching the end of the roof, he leaped across the gap and landed on the other building silently. 

 He approached the guard with stealth and precision. Snapping his neck was not difficult; making sure that the other man didn’t make any noise was the challenge. When he was certain that the guy was dead, he laid him down carefully and located the hidden skylight.

 Oliver knew that the moment he broke the glass he would bring a lot of unwanted attention to himself. And possibly Sin. That would not do.

 Thank God for ARGUS and their little tricks. Taking things from them was fun and his way of saying a big ‘Fuck you’ to Amanda Waller who had stolen a year of his life and put him back on goddamn purgatory. He pulled the round, unassuming device from his inside pocket and placed it on the glass. A strong laser beam cut through a circle just wide enough for a grown man to enter. Once it was finished, the glass didn’t fall down and make a ruckus but remained stuck on the device. You just had to hold it carefully and avoid dropping it yourself.

 Removing the glass and securing the device, he was now ready to enter. He paused only for a moment to make sure that no one was standing beneath him and then jumped into the hole.

 He landed softly and pulled his bow in one move. Someone came rushing at him in the dark but Oliver was ready. He used his shoulder to deflect and then his right fist to punch the man. His opponent fell but didn’t stay down. 

 Oliver nocked an arrow and growled, “Where’s the Count?”

 “I’m more afraid of him, than I am of you!”

 “Wrong answer.”

 Without further discussion, he shot him through the heart and sidestepped the dead body.

 Another guard heard the commotion and ran towards him, ready to shoot. This time he didn’t stop for questions. He took care of the problem quickly and reached the corridor.

 These men obviously knew who he was. And they weren’t afraid of him. Which only meant one thing. The Count was more dangerous than he had thought.

 No matter. The Hood had survived a lot worse.

 There! A door at the far wall. 

 Well, no point in trying to conceal his presence anymore. Oliver kicked it hard and calmly walked through.

 The sight he encountered was straight out of a nightmare. People were naked, dressed only in medical robes and chained together, working on a substance that he identified as the green drug both junkies and cops called Vertigo.

 “The Starling City vigilante? In my home?” The man that spoke had the gaunt look and crazy eyes he had once seen on patients in Arkham Asylum. “You humble me with your presence, you mighty avenger. Please allow me to welcome you. No need for arrows. We fight on the same side.”

 “Your side is money. We are nothing alike.” He knew better than to respond. But just the idea that he had something in common with that lunatic made bile rise in his throat.

 “You care for the Glades. You want the best for its people. You hate the rich as much as we do. We are not that different you and I.”

 “I don’t poison this city,” Oliver growled.

 The Count laughed. “Oh, Green One, the poison is just the symptom. You have no idea about the disease that is slowly killing Starling. But you’ll soon learn. When he’s ready.”

 “When who’s ready?”

 But the discussion was apparently over because the Count fired three times. Oliver shot an arrow towards the chain holding people, breaking it and jumped behind a leather couch. The men and women didn’t try to escape but moved all together like headless chickens getting in the middle of the bullets and arrows with no care in the world.

 It was horrible and as the sound of sirens signaled the police’s arrival, it only got worse. Oliver’s final coherent thought was of Sin waiting alone on that rooftop. He hoped she stayed out of trouble. And then there was no more thinking.

 Only fighting and surviving.

Felicity was pretending to sleep when her phone started ringing. Ever since she had discovered that her best friend’s brother was this city’s guardian angel, sleep had become a rarity. Needless to say, her job and nonexistent social life were suffering. She sighed and decided to ignore the call. It would probably be her mother who had no concept of the time difference between Starling and Vegas.

 The annoying ringing stopped. Promising herself to call her mother tomorrow night, Felicity punched her pillow into submission and wondered what Oliver was doing at that moment. Probably having fun kicking bad guys, jumping from buildings and shooting arrows left and right. Growling in frustration she kicked the sheets away. Would this torment never end?

 The phone rang again. Felicity gave a small scream and reached for her glasses. It was too late in the evening (or too early in the morning to be exact) to deal with her Mom’s stories about rich customers and semi-famous celebrities or - she shuddered - questions about her dating life.

 Great, now she was rambling in her head.

 She picked up without looking at the screen. “Mom I love you but 4 o’clock is not the time to discuss potential boyfriends or-”

 “Felicity Smoak?” a deep, male voice asked.

 “Who’s this? How did you get this number?” She knew she sounded angry but if there was one thing that Felicity was paranoid about, was her identity. Very few people had her phone number and even fewer would dare to call her at this hour.

 “We have a mutual friend.”

 “Are you calling from SCPD? Because I thought that Roy’s thieving days were over. Oh Google, don’t tell me you’re calling from the hospital? Who’s dying? Is it my Mom? Thea? O-” She stopped herself before uttering that last name.

 The man on the other end of the line chuckled. “Sounds like our friend was right to ask me to contact you. You’re worried about him.”

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, even though her nerves were shot and she was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

 “Do you know the Queen Steel Factory in the Glades?”

 “If it’s on a map, I can find it.”

 “Good. Come as fast as you can. Try the back entrance. The code is 1141.”

 “That’s a lousy password. I could break that in my sleep,” she said and realized that the man had already hung up.

 It took her brain a few moments to freak out about everything. Possible scenario number 1: he was injured, dying on a table, hidden in an old steel factory. The agony that pierced her heart was short but hurt like the devil. Possibility number 2: the man that called was an ally and Oliver had made him call her for help. But what kind of help was she? She was not a doctor and she was definitely not a fan of pointy things. The only skills she had were her smarts and her computer knowledge. What good would that do if he was dying, dammit? 

 She didn’t know but she got dressed as fast as possible. 

 Felicity didn’t have any trouble locating the old Queen steel factory. It was deep in the Glades, on the other side of her home which was located in the gentrified part of the neighborhood. She turned right and parked as close to the back entrance as possible. Taking out her pepper spray, just in case, she pushed the buttons and the heavy metallic door opened easily.

 “Hello?” Her voice echoed in an empty stairwell.

 Pepper spray in hand, she got down the stairs carefully. Somewhere in the back there was water dripping and some kind of machine making a beeping noise. If he was actually hurt, a hospital would be a much better choice than this damp, unsafe environment.

 “You must be Felicity,” a voice said as soon as she reached the bottom. Jumping a mile high, she nearly got scared out of her skin but she was proud that she managed to swallow her instinctive scream.

 The man, staring at her with open curiosity, was built like a mountain.

 “I’m John Diggle. You can call me Dig.”

 She nodded even though she didn’t care much for introductions at the moment. 

 “Where is he?”

 Dig pointed towards the middle of the room where a long, metal table was located. A young girl, no more than 25 years old was lying on it.

 Felicity tilted her head. She had no idea who the girl was but she appeared to be seriously injured.

 “That’s Sin,” Dig explained. “She was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.”

 Curiosity appeased for the moment, Felicity repeated her earlier question. “Where is he?” It was irrational but she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Only then she would be satisfied.

 Dig sighed and led her towards the back where a half-naked Oliver Queen was performing upside down crunches. His torso was glistening with sweat, his back muscles were straining but he didn’t stop. Not even for a second. 

 “She’s here,” Dig said but Felicity would bet her new TX processor that the warning was unnecessary. Oliver had a sixth sense where she was concerned. He had probably known she was there way before Dig did. He did a hundred more repetitions without pause before acknowledging her presence.

 “Why am I here, Oliver?” she asked, deliberately using his name.

 For the first time, since she had arrived at this lonely basement he turned and looked at her.

 “The police are on my tail. Constantly. I want to know why.”

 “Can you elaborate?”

 “Did you see any patrols when you drove here?”

 “Well yes, but Lance is obsessed with the Arrow and it’s not weird that-”

 “Arrow?” Dig asked, raising both eyebrows.

 “Not the time,” Oliver snarled and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his body, he focused on Felicity. “The night of the party…”

 A sudden roaring in her ears made her miss a little bit of his speech. That night was engraved onto her memory. It was both terrible and hauntingly beautiful.

 “...Lance always seems to know where I am. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to catch a break. If I lay low, he lays low. If I’m dressed in green, he’s always behind me, nipping at my heels.” He threw the towel on the ground, viciously. “Walter always said that you’re the best. That you could hack the FBI if you wanted to. I know I’m asking a lot but today they came this close to catching me and now, someone else is paying the price.”

 His voice had dropped several octaves as he looked at the sleeping girl. And Felicity saw clearly what he had been doing earlier, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. Not exercising or trying to calm down as she had originally thought but punishing himself.

 She put her bag down and turned towards the computers.

 “Hacking the SCPD is a serious waste of my talents, Oliver. I’m not thrilled. I don’t think Batman is asking Oracle to hack GCPD, is he? She’s probably looking into the freaking NSA while I’m here-”

 She stopped suddenly and whirled around to glare at him.

 “Oliver Queen what have you done to these poor babies? This system looks like it came from the 80’s! And not the good part of the 80’s like leg warmers and Madonna… No, it looks like-”

 Placing a hand on her shoulder, he cut her before she could continue. Felicity fixed her glasses. Her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Why did she have to go on a tangent? She had been doing so great so far! Being invited into his secret lair in the middle of the night, she had one zillion questions about him and the young girl and Dig and she had managed to keep her mouth shut and not ask anything. Then, just a look at this horrible abuse of technology and she couldn’t help herself.

 “I’ll get on it,” she whispered and focused on the task ahead.

Thirty minutes later and after the men indulged in a sparring session that provided the background music to her work, she jumped and yelled, “Yes!” so loudly that both of them came running.

 “What did you find?”

 Oliver’s voice reached her first.

 “Lance has a spy.”

 He shook his head.

 “Not possible. No one knows about this.”

 Felicity scoffed. “Your friends know. I know.”

 “I don’t have friends.”

 She threw her hands in the air. What a stubborn, stubborn man! She justified using two ‘stubborns’ because one wasn’t enough to describe him.

 Dig didn’t comment but made a motion with his hands to show that she should ignore him.

 “You said that Lance’s pursuit became worse after the mansion, right?”

 “Yeah,” he confirmed.

 “Did you happen to have any run ins with the law before the party?”

 He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I had one just before I arrived at the mansion.”

 “Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oliver cocked his head, clearly confused.

 “You want answers? Show me what you were wearing.”

 Oh, she was enjoying this so much! It was so much better than de-spamming email addresses and pretending she was a blonde bimbo so that her stupid boss wouldn’t be offended by her intelligence.

 Oliver brought his green suit and gave it to her, albeit a bit gingerly. She patted it down and discovered several hidden pockets that held all kinds of things but not the thing she was looking for.

 “Is that all?” she asked. Frustration colored her voice but she was sure her instincts were right. She just had to prove it.

 “What about the quiver?” Dig chimed. “Didn’t you have it with you?”

 “Quiver?” Excitement returned with a vengeance.

 Oliver turned towards a glass case. Felicity rolled her eyes and whispered to Dig, “Is the glass case really practical or is it a necessary accessory to the vigilante lifestyle?”

 Oliver didn’t respond but the slight upturn of his lips indicated that he had heard her. He gave her the quiver but removed the arrows explaining that some of them were so dangerous that they could set off a minor explosion and seriously injure her.

 Felicity nodded but didn’t pay much attention. Her hands patted down the leather and admired the practical design. Whoever had built that was obviously a master of his craft.

 “His name was Yao Fei.”

 “Who?”

 “You were mumbling about the man who made this. The quiver was his. So was the bow.”

 She was staring at him in complete surprise when Dig’s forced cough pulled her out of her reverie. Yao Fei? It was the first time she had ever heard of him. Could Oliver have met him on the island or in a totally different place? And what possessed Oliver to actually tell her about him?

 Obviously, she was not the only one surprised. Dig was looking at his friend as if he had never seen him before.

 “Yes!” she shouted and pumped her fist in the air.

 While her brain had been focusing on the riddle that was Oliver Queen, her hands had found what she had been looking for.

 “You don’t happen to have a Faraday cage in this establishment, do you?”

 “A what?” Dig asked.

 “It’s a literal cage that can block electromagnetic fields,” Oliver answered before she could. “Which means that… You found a bug?”

 The last word was said so calmly that it scared her. Growly Oliver was a sight to behold but it didn’t faze her. Calm Oliver was terrifying.

 “They must have planted it on you during the fight.”

 Dig crossed his arms and looked skeptical. “If that thing is a bug then why hasn’t Lance swarmed this place?”

 Felicity examined the small device. It gleamed in her hand.

 “This is the Sniffer 2000. It’s an old version of a very dangerous tracker that the military uses often. This baby shows a general location but not exactly where you are so after a while it became obsolete. Of course, the Starling police department is so underfunded that there’s no way Lance could get something more expensive. Or reliable. That’s probably the only reason why you aren’t wearing cuffs now.”

 “Okay,” Dig said. “I’ve heard enough. Let me get the hammer and-”

 “No. Give it to me.”

 Felicity closed her hand. “Listen, Oliver. If you’re going to do something stupid then we should discuss it first, don’t you think? The three of us might come up with a better plan.”

 He took a step forward.

 “There’s no ‘three of us’. I work alone. And my plans are never stupid.”

 Dig fake-coughed to show his disagreement.

 “Fe-li-ci-ty. Give me the bug.” 

 He was still speaking in the same self-possessed tone that was freaking her out. They were standing too close, almost touching and she could feel him. A serene front but underneath there was anger. The Hood was fighting the city’s worst criminals while the police were chasing their tails. A young girl had gotten hurt because of a man’s personal vendetta. A girl under Oliver’s watch. No. Anger was too small a word. 

 Rage fit better.

 “Promise me,” she said before she could stop herself.

 He narrowed his eyes.

 “Promise me you’ll come back.”

 Before she could berate herself for the utter stupidity of trying to exact this type of promise from him, he nodded slightly and took her hand. His gloved fingers caressed her skin, pushing her fingers open, making the hair on her arms stand up. His movements were so gentle that she felt like crying. Again.

 Watching him take the bug, put on the suit, place the arrows back in the quiver and grab his bow without speaking was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

 He walked towards the metal staircase but turned back at the last minute.

 “Dig. Take care of her.”

 Dig didn’t argue and took a step towards Felicity.

 They watched him leave, both standing in an uncomfortable silence full of tension that Felicity would have normally tried to break with a thousand-word babble. 

 Turning towards Dig, she clutched his arm harder than she meant to.

 “He’s gonna do something stupid, isn’t he?”

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 42: A Woman, A Child, A Sinner, A Monster

The day after the park clean up, the thieves met up at Madarame’s exhibit after school to look out on the effects of the calling card they sent the previous evening. Madarame had shown up, but a guard was always with him. When he had some free time, he pulled the guard aside and asked “OK. What’s this about?”

“I’m sorry sir” he said. “I was told I had to wait until Captain Ogawa got here.”

“WHAT?!” Madarame screamed.

At that moment, Kosuke walked in and walked up to Madarame and the guard. “What’s going on?” he asked.

The guard was somewhat hesitant. “Well, uh, early this morning, we found these scattered throughout the exhibit.” He took out a copy of the calling card. “We think whoever did this might make a move against Madarame.”

“WHAT?!” Madarame said.

“Did you see who placed them?” Kosuke questioned.

“All the security footage we looked through only showed a black cat” the guard responded

“I see. Do you know who sent it?” Kosuke asked, matter of factly.

“Well, it’s addressed from those Phantom Thieves we’ve been hearing about in the news recently” the guard answered.

“Phantom Thieves, pah” Madarame dismissed. “Why would they go after me?”

Kosuke seethed a little, not enough for it to be noticeable unless you were really paying attention. “Well if you’d like,” the guard spoke, “you could read what the card says.”

“Let me see,” Madarame said, ripping the card from the guard’s hand. He began reading. “‘Sir Ichiryusai Madarame, the egregious sinner of vanity. You pretend to be a noble and kind light in the world of art, when in reality we know you’re anything but. You take students under your wing and abuse them without mercy and steal their art to claim as your own. Then you leave them destitute once you believe they no longer serve a purpose. You also use your immense influence to prevent people from speaking out about it. We are not alone in noticing this. Someone wishes to purge you from your perch and watch as you fall face down into the roaring flames of Hell itself. We cannot allow that to happen, nor can we allow you to continue on your path of destroying people’s hopes and dreams. To prevent both, we will steal your desires and make you confess your sins. From, The Phantom Thieves of Heart.’”

Madarame ripped the card in two. “What rubbish! Slander is what that is!”

“Uh sir?” the guard said.

“What?” Madarame said forcefully.

“Um, it’s just, people around the museum are already talking about it” the guard informed him.

“Well, none of this is true, right?” Madarame insisted.

“Right, uh, sir” the guard said, panicking.

Madarame sighed. “Now I have to figure out THIS PR disaster,” Madarame said.

“But what about the Phantom Thieves?” the guard asked.

“What about them?” Madarame chded. “You don’t believe they exist, do you?”

“Well, uh…” the guard began answering.

“This is just a fairy tale meant to try and scare me and stir up trouble” Madarame said.”Well it won’t work!”

The world flashed, and we see Madarame’s shadow clearly frustrated. “Heh. Those thieves think they can steal my treasure? My security is state of the art. And when it comes to art, no one is better than me.”

It flashes back to reality. Madarame walks off in a huff, pondering over what to do next. Meanwhile, Kosuke had been essentially frozen this entire time. “Uh, Captain Ogawa?” the guard asked.

Kosuke smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said, placing his hands on the guard’s shoulders. “We're the best, right? I’m sure whatever threat these thieves may or may not pull, we can take care of it with ease.”

The guard nodded. “Thank you sir.” He rushed off to prepare for what might come next.

Meanwhile, it flashed back to the darkness with Kosuke’s shadow, visibly upset, but grinning. “You think you can destroy my masterpiece like this? All you’ve done is given me a happy little accident to work with.” It flashes back to reality, and Kosuke walks off.

The thieves conversed among themselves. “Well, it looks like the message got through to them both,” Yusuke noted.

Jose nodded. “Yup. Now all we have to do is follow through with our plan.”

“Is everybody ready?” Morgana asked. They all nodded. “Good. I don’t need to remind you that this is our only chance. I believe we can do this!”

Ren nodded. “Let’s go!” she called. The thieves left the exhibit and went to Madarame’s palace.

At the entrance, Ann lamented “We’re not going to have a short route like last time, are we?”

Ren shook her head.”However, we know the ins and outs of this place. We should avoid detection fairly easily.”

“She’s right,” Morgana said. “We should conserve our energy until we make our play. Now let’s move!” The thieves began sneaking through the palace to get to Madarame’s treasure room. Once there, they all got into position.

Outside the control room, Ryuji was psyching himself up. “OK. You can do this.” He banged on the door. “HEY! There’s an intruder here!” He then bolted.

“What?” said the shadow. They opened the door to try and track Ryuji.

Ann crept out of her hiding space. “You can do it Skull.” She snuck into the control room and went straight for the light panel.

In the treasure exhibit hall, Madarame was standing there with a plethora of guards patrolling. One of them was shot. “WHAT?!” Madarame called out.

He and all the remaining guards look up to see Jose holding his sniper rifle. “Hi,” he said. He fired another shot, taking out another shadow.

Most of the guards tried to confront Jose. However, one took Madarame aside and said “You’re not safe, we must go!” Madarame nodded, and the two walked off. Jose made a break for it, dodging all of the shadows.

Once Morgana was in place, Yusuke gave the signal. Ann shut the lights off while Ren lowered the crane. Sumire kept watch to make sure no one came in that wasn’t supposed to. As Morgana started to head up, Jose used his grappling hook to latch on to lose the guards chasing him and meet up with the rest of the group.

When the lights came back on, the guards were confused. They decided to investigate the control room. Fortunately, Ann had already left, and was making her way to the crane control room. Ryuji lured the guard chasing him away and took care of them discreetly. After he finished subduing the guard, he made his way over there as well.

“Alright! Success!” Morgana cheered.

“Way to go, Mona-senpai!” Sumire compliments.

“Now all that’s left is to sneak out,” Ryuji said enthusiastically.

“Where are they?!” they heard a guard shout.

“Easier said than done,” Yusuke said.

“We did cause a lot of commotion” Ann noted.

“Spread out!” they heard another guard say. “They couldn’t have gotten far!”

Ren smirked. “I know that look,” Morgana said. “You have a dangerous plan, don’t you?”

“I would have said ‘bold’, but yeah” Ren answered. “Follow me.” She headed up to the rafters, with her crew following her. Ren looked down. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” Ryuji asked.

“The guards aren’t here because they’re looking for us elsewhere” Ren surmised.

“...Yeah?” Ryuji continued.

“So, we can just jump down and rush through” Ren finished.

“OK, OK” Ryuji said. “Wait, WHAT?! For REAL?! No way, look how high we are!”

“As ludicrous as this sounds, I think that’s our only option” Yusuke pointed out.

“Follow my lead,” Ren said. She jumped, and as she was falling, she tethered herself to one of the rafters to swing gracefully down. She let go when she was close enough to the floor, and then proceeded to hit the ground running. One by one, her fellow thieves did the same.

They continued through the museum, hiding from guards and taking whatever shortcuts they could. When they got to the extremely damaged room just passed the broken Madarame statue Morgana tripped. “Woah!” The treasure slipped out of its covering, only to reveal a crude self portrait of Madarame. The thieves stopped.

Ren picked it up. “What the?”

“Hm” they heard Madarame grunt. “So you figured out my trick.” The thieves all looked at him. He was being escorted by two guards. “No matter. I’ll just eliminate you here!”

“You switched the paintings?!” Morgana yelped.

“I wasn’t going to let you steal my treasure so easily” Madarame chided. “If you had left with that I would have let you live. But now, you must perish!” The thieves began drawing their weapons. “But before that, I suppose you deserve a glimpse of the treasure you so foolishly tried to steal.” He takes out a canvas. “Behold, the REAL ‘Sayuri’!”

The thieves were stunned. The white cloud was no longer there. Instead, there was a portrait of a small child. “That…” Yusuke said. “That’s me…” The other thieves looked at him.

Madarame nodded. “Your mother was the true author of the ‘Sayuri’. It was a portrait of her with her child. Unfortunately, she died before she could make it public.”

The thieves were appalled. “You stole his mom’s art?!” Ryuji yelled.

“And I let her die too!” Madarame said. “She was so weak and sickly, no one would have given a second thought to her perishing. So I intentionally took my time calling the ambulance.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Sumire said.

“Because you’re going to die,” Madarame said. “There’s no point in lying to the dead.”

All the other thieves were furious. Yusuke smiled. “Heh” he chuckled. “I see now. You said that Madarame the artist was a facade. Yet I can see now that Madarame the human being is also nothing more than a facade to you.”

“Well put Yusuke,” Kosuke’s voice rang out. The thieves looked around. Kosuke jumped down to get behind Madarame. One his way down he splashed the two guards with ink. After he landed, he created two knives from his ink and threw them at the guards, destroying them.

Kosuke walked over to Madarame. “I used to think that my opinion of you couldn’t GET any lower. But you’ve proven me wrong, yet again. Taking your student’s artwork and claiming it as your own is despicable. But EDITING it? Taking out the most IMPORTANT PART? That’s just downright disgusting.” Madarame was sweating bullets. In a panic, he dropped his treasure. Kosuke cracked his neck. “And now, it’s time for you to DIE!”

Kosuke raised his fist, ready to take out Madarame. However Yusuke jumped in between and stopped him. “I WILL NOT LET YOU KILL HIM!”

Kosuke backed up. Morgana went in and grabbed the treasure, while Ryuji took the fake treasure, slammed it over Madarame, and proceeded to drag him away as well. Kosuke called out. “You've seen his treasure now! You know what he’s capable of! You know he’s beyond redemption! Why do you insist that he live after everything he’s done?!”

Yusuke smirked. “While it’s true Madarame may be irredeemable, that doesn’t mean I have to be. There’s no shame in doing the right thing. Madarame is truly the worst of humanity, and I aim to be the best. If that means not letting the very worst happen to him, then so be it.”

“Grrrrrr” Kosuke hissed. “Very well. If you wanna play hardball, LET’S PLAY!”

The museum around them started to bleed ink heavier. “It looks like Kosuke’s starting to take over more,” Morgana pointed out.

“I guess we’re fighting this guy now,” Ryuji said.

Ren smirked. “Just so you know Kosuke, we play to win!”

They began battling each other. Kosuke was fairly aggressive, but the thieves were doing a good chunk of damage. After a few rounds, the ink distortion started growing stronger. “What’s this?” Yusuke shrieked.

“What’s going on?” Sumire asked.

“Don’t worry!” Ren said, trying to calm down her teammates. “This happened with Kamoshida too! So long as we keep Madarame alive, everything will be fine!”

“Sensei?” Kosuke’s voice rang out.

“What?” Yusuke said

“This happens too,” Morgana informed. “This a memory Kosuke has.”

“What is it?” Madarame asked.

“Why are there countless copies of the ‘Sayuri’ in the back?” Kosuke asked.

“What were you doing back there?” Madarame returned, anger in his voice.

“I was trying to figure out how to get my name back on the piece of art I made!” Kosuke retorted.

“Heh. Did you forget? I made that” Madarame said.

“Bullshit!” Kosuke said. “I made it! You just stole it from me!”

“I made you the artist you are now” Madarame chided. “So anything you make is mine!”

“WHAT?!” Kosuke yelled.

“As for the ‘Sayuri’, it’s also mine so I can do with it as I please’ Madarame continued. “I can forge it and sell it to suckers who think it went missing.”

“You WHAT?!” Kosuke screamed.

“Now, do go back there EVER again!” Madarame insisted. “Or else I’ll have you arrested!” Kosuke could be heard fuming, and stomped off.

“So this is when he figured it out” Yusuke reflected.

“Tell me you wouldn’t react similarly” the Kosuke in front of them demanded. “When the image of Madarame as he presents himself breaks, you’ll see nothing but a horrid creature, meant for the flames.”

Yusuke sighed. “While it is disappointing to see what Madarame is really like, I cannot condone your behavior here either.”

“Very well,” Kosuke said. “Shall we continue then?”

They went back to fighting for a bit longer before another memory started playing. “YOU STOLE THE ‘SAYURI’?!” past Kosuke yelled.

“What are you talking about?” Madarame threw back.

“The ‘Sayuri’!” Kosuke said, forcefully. “You didn’t make it! You stole it!”

“What do you mean?” Madarame obfuscated.

“I went back into that room and found the real ‘Sayuri’” Kosuke said, seething. “After looking it over, the style, the paint lines, and the subject itself, it hit me. The ‘Sayuri’ has Hoshiko written all over it!”

“Hoshiko?” Ann asked.

“My mother” Yusuke informed her.

A smack could be heard. “I told you never to go back there again!” Madarame shouted. “And as for your insinuation, I’ve told you before: ‘I made her, therefore anything that’s her is mine’! But apparently you don’t listen. You should appreciate me. I took you in when you had nowhere else to go!”

“Did you kill her as well?” Kosuke asked, definitely. “Just to take it?”

“IT’S MINE!” Madarame insisted. “You need to listen! Especially to these next words! Leave here, and never return! And if I see even a glimpse of you trying to make it as an artist, I will have you behind bars so fast, the ink will not even have dried on your first stroke.”

There was a bit of silence. “FINE!” Kosuke screamed. “But someday, this will all come crashing down!”

“I have the art world eating out of the palm of my hand” Madarame said, rubbing salt in the wound. “Just how do you think that will happen?” The voices stopped. However, there were some angry footsteps, followed by a slamming door. “Bah. He won’t bother me again.”

There was more silence on the part of the thieves. “I remember that day,” Yusuke said. “I had only heard bits and pieces, but the anger was clear. The door came off the frame after he slammed it. Despite everything, I felt powerless.”

“I felt powerless too,” Kosuke said. “He beat us, stole from us, and yet WE were the ones who would get in trouble if anyone outside of Madarame’s shack heard anything. For too long, Madarame has avoided any consequences. But not anymore! It’s time for him to pay!”

“I agree,” Yusuke said. “Although I’d rather him pay society than the piper.”

“Heh. So quick witted” Kosuke said. “Let’s see how much longer you can last.” They continued their battle for a bit. After the thieves got a few good hits in, Kosuke chuckled. “Heh heh. You guys are powerful. Lucky for me, I have an ace up my sleeve. RAH!” He slapped his hands to the ground. Ink left them, creating little pools. Out of the pools of ink, copies of Kosuke appeared.

“WHAT?!” Ann shouted.

“Heh” Kosuke laughed. “Let’s see how you can handle an army of me!”

“What do we do?” Sumire asked.

The thieves looked them over. “They seem to be color-coded,” Jose noted. “Maybe that has something to do with it.”

“Good eye, Sunshine” Ren complimented. “I think they correlate to the elemental attacks we can do.”

“So we attack the one that matches?” Ryuji asked. “Seems simple enough.”

“Right,” Ren said. “This match is just about over!”

The bout continued for a little while longer. With some expert coordination, the thieves managed to deal with Kosuke’s clone easily, while also doing formidable damage to Kosuke himself.

After a decisive hit to Kosuke, he yelled. “GAHHHHHHHHHHH!” The ink started to melt off his head and hand, revealing his true appearance. He hell to his knees and started punching the ground beneath him. “GAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The thieves were shocked. While they were expecting something, this was slightly different than what happened with Shiho. Yusuke walked over to him. “Kosuke.”

“Why?” He trembled. “Why am I never strong enough?”

“I beg your pardon?” Yusuke asked.

“My parents...you...everyone else I met under Madarame...I’m never strong enough to protect them,” Kosuke lamented. “Time and time again, I fail! I’m pathetic.”

The thieves remained silent for a moment. Sumire walked over. “You protected us yesterday,” she pointed out.

Kosuke looked up. “Heh. That is you, huh. Heh heh. I guess I am good for something sometimes.”

“I understand how you feel,” Yusuke said. “I’ve had trouble proving my own worth for quite some time as well. While I can’t relate to what you went through exactly, I can understand why you would want to do all of this.”

“You’re not mad at me?” Kosuke asked.

Yusuke shook his head. “I’m only mad at Madarame.”

“HA!” Kosuke laughed. He laid down on his back. “I guess I was being a bit selfish by only allowing me to get my revenge. That’s why you were always the best of us Yusuke. You always had eyes on the bigger picture.” He looked at Yusuke. “What you’re doing will make Madarame pay for his crimes?” Yusuke quietly nodded. “Good. Promise me this: Once all this is settled, I want you to be the best damn artist you can be.”

Yusuke kneeled down to meet him. “I promise.”

“Good. See you on the other side” Kosuke said, fading away.

Yusuke stood up. “Farewell.”

“Now, about Madarame,” Jose pointed out.

“I got it,” Ryuji said. He dragged Madarame out, still trapped within his fake painting. “Yo. We’ll be taking the real deal. You gonna confess, or do we have to mess you up too?”

“I’ll confess!” Madarame said, worried. “I never thought that darkness would return. But I don’t want to face it any more!”

“Darkness?” Sumire wondered.

“Yeah” Ann answered. “When someone takes over, the palace owner faces a darkness that apparently swallows them.”

“Wait a minute,” Ren said. “What do you mean ‘return’?”

“Huh?” Ann said.

“He said he never thought it would return'' Ren said. She grabbed Madarame “What does that mean?”

“I’ve faced it before,” Madarame said. “As an example of what happens when you cross them!”

The thieves were surprised. “Who is ‘them’?!” Ryuji demanded.

“I don’t know all of them,” Madarame said. “But they tell me they’re using this sort of power to help shape Japan. They said I could be among the elite if I helped them, so I did. They wanted to see how a mental shutdown works, and I volunteered.”

“You wanted to be even greater than you are now?” Yusuke said, raising his voice. “Pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,” Madarame said.

“Tell that to the public,” Yusuke told him. Madarame faced with a horrified look on his face.

There was an explosion. “What was that?” Sumire asked.

“The palace is about to collapse,” Morgana said. “Panther!” He threw the treasure to her. He transformed into a car. “Hop in!” The thieves entered the car and they drove off.

Once they got out, the phone sounded. “Location Deleted.”

“Man, that was something else,” Ryuji said.

“You’re telling me,” Sumire said. “I haven’t done one of these before.”

“I didn’t know the metaverse could break like that,” Jose said.

Ann was still breathing heavily. She looked at the canvas. “Huh?”

“What is it?” Yusuke asked.

Ann turned it around. It was still the real “Sayuri”, baby Yusuke and all. “I’m just surprised because last time Kamoshida’s treasure changed shape once we took it out of the metaverse.”

“Huh” Jose said.

“Well, I guess that shows how much influence the ‘Sayuri’ really has,” Yusuke noted.

“No kiddin’” Ryuji said.

“Are we good?” Ren asked.

“I think so,” Morgana said.

“Good,” Ren siad, sighed. “I’m exhausted.

“Wait, what about that thing Madarame told us about?” Ryuji asked.

“I’d like to know more about that too,” Yusuke added. “As well as a few other things.”

“Me too, but” Sumire began, “maybe that can wait for another time.”

“Yeah today was enough as is” Ann said. “We should probably meet up to discuss this when our heads are clearer.”

“Agreed” Yusuke said.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m beat” Ryuji admitted. “Well, see ya.” He started walking off.

Just as the rest of the thieves were breaking off, Ann stopped Yusuke. “Yusuke.” She handed him the painting. “I think this should go to you.”

Yusuke was surprised. He smiled, said “Thank you,” and headed back home. Ann smiled and she headed home as well.

[alexthepartyman]

When I’m Saved (Part 1)

AN: This story is a loose and dramatised version based on a true event that happened to me. I have changed names and situations for privacy reasons. This will be a Tumblr and Ao3 exclusive fic. I hope you all enjoy laughing at how much of an idiot I am for getting into this situation.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming in on such brief notice, and I apologise for calling you all in this late.” Section Chief Mateo Cruz greets his tired team after the plane takes off. “You will notice, Dr Lewis is not here. She took a flight out to Peyton, Idaho to be the liaison for the La Byorteaux family. In the meantime, we have Dr Spencer Reid.” 

“What exactly is the situation?” Agent Prentiss asks. 

“Sixteen-year-old Dmitri La Byorteaux was reported missing from Disneyland at midnight, when the park closed. Park security and LAPD are still searching the park just in case he is still there. Dmitri was with his school group, the Peyton Panthers Marching Band and Colour Guard. The LAPD is taking copies of all of their records concerning Dmitri. The band directors are John Tremblay and Mark Wozniak, assistant leaders are Amy Tremblay, Jill Mellencamp, Nicholas Grace, Nicholas Vasquez, Lily Jones, and Arthur Wallace. There are parent chaperones, the one in charge of Dmitri is Ressa Kilburn,” the section chief explains.

“None of them know where he is or can get ahold of him?” Agent Jareau asks.

“No. These girls may know, though.” 

“Adelaide Parker, Tessa Anderson, Emily McClane, Imogen Wilkinson?” 

“His roommates. They were with him for every moment of the trip.” 

“Roommates? Why would they room a boy with four girls? That sounds very strange.” 

“Hello, crimefighters!” Ms Garcia cheerfully greets the team. “I’ve just been through Dmitri’s records that Mrs Mellencamp has provided. He didn’t have a seat buddy on the bus. He was in the back of the ‘orange’ bus, with Imogen and Emily in front of him. And Dmitri is on three medications, two anti-depressants and a thyroid hormone. He is also reportedly allergic to ibuprofen.” 

“Two anti-depressants?” 

“Yeah, fluoxetine and trazodone.” 

“Those two together can create an effect called serotonin syndrome, which is an excess in the hormone serotonin, which is known as the hormone that makes people happy. Symptoms can range from headaches and myoclonus to hyperthermia and a drastically increased heart rate,” Dr Reid says.

“Dmitri’s phone is most likely dead, because I can’t track it.” 

“Does he talk to anybody from the Los Angeles area?” 

“I spotted a few Los Angeles numbers in his contacts. One belongs to a Hussein College. Another is registered to a man named Diego Castro, and yet another is registered to a Jacob Freeman. I’m sending contact information to your mobiles.”

“Castro’s a forty-year-old drag queen. Has the physique to easily overpower Dmitri.”

“Freeman is six feet tall, twenty-one-years-old, also has the physique to overpower Dmitri easily. Do they know each other? Did either of them know Dmitri or each other before yesterday?”

“No. I don’t even think Diego and Jacob know each other now, but I...I just found a picture on Diego’s Instagram, it’s from yesterday, and both Dmitri and Tessa are in it. Diego’s the one hugging Dmitri, the other men are friends of his.” 

“That’s Tessa over there on the other side. And is Dmitri in a wheelchair?”

“Yeah, none of the band records mentioned a wheelchair or a mobility impairment, so let me just get ahold of Dmitri’s medical records…” Typing can be heard through the laptop. “Huh. There’s nothing for Dmitri. At all. Like, he doesn’t exist. I found a Rhys La Byorteaux, though, they have the same prescriptions, same hometown, same last name... same parents… the only thing different is that Rhys is a girl and Dmitri is a boy. They even have the same therapist.”

“Rhys and Dmitri sound like they’re the same person. When did Dmitri start existing?”

“Early 2017. That’s also when Rhys kind of started...not existing… yeah, they’re the same person, records from Dmitri’s clinic show Rhys is a legal name and that he is biologically female, but he is seeking treatment for gender dysphoria and uses the name Dmitri.”

“Oh... he’s transgender? Why weren’t we told of that?” Agent Jareau asks. “I feel like that would be important information to know.”

“I don’t know, but we’re still calling him Dmitri, right?”

“We should, to avoid confusion. How common is that last name?”

“Not very, sir, the only other people I’m finding in America with that last name are the acting brothers and Dmitri’s family... there is a birth certificate for a Luke La Byorteaux, born to Nathaniel La Byorteaux and a Maria Alvez, but I can’t find anything for Luke past 1989.” Agent Alvez looks to the laptop with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Did you just say Maria Alvez?” 

“Yeah, she also kind of went missing, too.” 

“Garcia. Focus on Dmitri.”

“Got it. Dmitri’s medical records look relatively normal until the age of three, then after that, it looks like he’s a frequent flyer in the medical field. He was born relatively healthy for being induced three weeks early, except for the part where his father, Nathaniel La Byorteaux, was removed from the delivery room for protesting when the doctor threw the baby at mother Eva Kelly’s chest, and also for refusing doctors access to newborn Dmitri, who was born anemic.” 

“What kind of father refuses treatment for his newborn child?” Agent Simmons asks. “What started happening when Dmitri turned three?”

“A lot of appointments with specialty doctors, peppered in with ER visits. They referred Dmitri out to an audiologist based on concerns of multiple ear infections and being deaf. They found out he wasn’t deaf by scanning his brain waves when the regular test didn’t work out, and he was developmentally delayed, put in preschool at three, the youngest in his class. He ate a penny, went to the ER to have it pumped out, that’s like the one relatively normal thing that happened to him. Eva Kelly and Nathaniel La Byorteaux voiced many concerns about Dmitri’s never-ending ear infections and the strep throat that he would get constantly, and the frequent nosebleeds that happened nearly daily. He was admitted to the ER many times, covered in bruises from head to toe, bleeding profusely, dangerously high fevers, and they rushed him from the hospital in Ontario, Oregon to Boise, Idaho. CPS was called over concerns of Nathaniel abusing Dmitri, but charges were dismissed once Eva explained that Nathaniel wouldn’t actually beat Dmitri if he didn’t wake up, that was just how Nathaniel woke him up.” 

“What? Nathaniel threatened to beat up Dmitri?”

“Yeah, I wish that was a joke. All of the tests came back that there were no platelets in Dmitri’s system. Anywhere. Zilch. He was given three bags of immunoglobulin and carefully monitored after that. Doctors determined that the only explanation could have been this rare disease called ITP, or-”

“Immune Thrombocytopenic Purpura. The body mistakenly attacks and destroys platelets in the body, which are fragments of cells that help clot the blood when the body is wounded. It usually starts in children after a viral disease, and it usually resolves itself with no need for treatment.” 

“Yes, Good Doctor. Dmitri’s condition was closely monitored after that, and then shortly after his fifth birthday, he was diagnosed with autism by a specialist in Salt Lake City, Utah. He went to the MayoClinic in Phoenix, Arizona for a month to have a splenectomy, and then that August, he and his brother Roger Kelly were nearly killed in a single-car rollover, and more blood bags were needed, both sustained concussions. Dmitri was admitted to the ER again later that month after he reportedly fell from the shelves in his closet during the night, that’s a concussion, and then again after he tipped over one of those old-person motor scooters onto himself, but miraculously, all he had was road rash and a bunch of scratches.” 

“What? Where did he get a motorised scooter?”

“His dad apparently got it after breaking his knee on his stepson, Robert’s trick bike, when he collided with the garden gnome. Robert also split his chin open and had to get five stitches. Again, the garden gnome. No, I’m not making any of this up. Let’s see...no hospital activity until Dmitri got his tonsils removed at age nine, apparently that was the reason he got strep throat five times a year. He went through urgent care all the time for weird accidents, like one time, his face swelled up to the size of a grapefruit because of misusing acne wipes. He went through urgent care at fourteen for a concussion, was sent home, no further testing was done... and then two months later, he was admitted to the ER for a major concussion, tests showed no brain bleeding, he was sent home to recover from it, when to the ER three months ago because he had bled out during a panic attack...He didn’t go to the ER again until three weeks ago, and yeah.”

“How does he behave in school?”

“Uh...Dmitri is mayhem incarnate, constant behaviour issues. He’s noted to be moody, fidgety, stubborn. Quite closed off from his peers, distracted, impulsive. He does his work super fast and is noted to be quite intelligent but breaks the rules. He is known to be very messy, and he is regularly known to be very goofy, often covered in markers and other things.. He argues with teachers a lot, has his phone confiscated a lot, violates dress code a lot, has been involved in weird incidents, has a very filthy mouth, serves a lot of detention for being late, a lot.” 

“He’s a rule breaker. You think he left on purpose?”

“He doesn’t look like he can in that wheelchair. It looks like a park rental. Garcia, check into that wheelchair thing. And check Dmitri’s social media. His emails and text messages, too.” 

“On it. I’m going to update Tara.” The blonde woman ends the call, and the screen returns to a navy blue background. 

“I’m going to call LAPD, tell them Dmitri has less time than we thought,” Chief Cruz says, pulling out his cell phone and stepping towards another section of the plane. 

“How do you bleed out from a panic attack?” Agent Rossi asks. “Kid has got talents.”

“That entire family has talents. A garden gnome?”

“Less talk about the freak garden gnome accident, more trying to find Dmitri. He couldn’t have gotten far if he needed a wheelchair, so someone would have had to carry him out if he got far.” 

“We have to figure out why he was in the wheelchair.” 

“He had a concussion three weeks ago that went mostly untreated, he’s probably still showing symptoms, and he may have developed physical coordination issues rendering him temporarily unable to walk. He may also be extremely dizzy, or his limbs may be extremely weak,” Dr Reid explains. 

“Someone would have had to take him. We should track down Diego Castro and Jacob Freeman, see what they know.” 

“The girls would definitely know what happened to him. We have to talk to them. We should also talk to the chaperones that would know Dmitri the best, starting with John and Amy Tremblay.”

[brilliantkey]

The Bodyguard and His Prince

Part 1

A/N: This story was initially inspired by this post, then flipped around, co/re-inspired, and reworked based on the synopsis of this book. I haven’t read the book so don’t expect the story to be similar to the book if you’ve read it.  Also, I still plan to write a story based on the initial inspiration, but this story took seed first.

Pairing: Stucky Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes Prince!Steve Rogers

Bucky’s eyes shot open. He looked over at the man sleeping next to him. With what little light there was coming through the window, he could make out blonde hair, a muscular back and large arms. To the other side of him was a lean but well-developed chest and long dark hair. The large blonde – Thor? – had drunkenly let it slip that the two were brothers but that the brunette was adopted. He’d also went on to describe how beautiful his brother was when Thor had proposed the threesome. It hadn’t stopped Bucky at the time. He’d been looking for a warm body for the night and got a two-for-one special.

Bucky slowly slid off the bed and went in search of his clothes and shoes, which were strewn both in the bedroom and the living room. While he’d had fun with both men the night before, he certainly wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time for one night. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the blonde and brunette cared more for each other than they were willing to let on. His suspicion was confirmed when he looked back at the bed before leaving the room and found that the large blonde had shifted in his sleep and was tenderly holding the lean brunette.

Bucky gathered his clothes and softly closed the bedroom door. He checked to make sure he had all his belongings before getting dressed heading towards the front door. He stopped when he saw a photo of Thor and his brother – Loki? – framed on a decorative bookshelf. In the photo, Loki was dressed in a black suit. Thor was dressed more casually in a jacket, hoodie and t-shirt and was staring at his brother. The look of affection and longing in his eyes was unmistakable. At his weakest moments, Bucky would admit to himself that he wanted to have someone who would look at him that way. Working security didn’t leave much room for a personal life. Even before that, during his time in the army, he never had much time for more than a fling or two with the same person. His longest relationship lasted about a month and only because it was with a co-worker.

Normally, he’d just leave without a word. But as he passed the kitchen counter on the way towards the door, he grabbed a notepad and a pen and left a short message:

Thor: Take your shot. If he means that much to you, don’t let anything stop you. -BB

-- 

HRH Prince Steven of Erskine preferred to shy away from public attention. However, his public relations team insisted he attend a New York City movie premiere to show the public that he had gotten over his recent break-up with Duchess Margaret “Peggy” Carter. Fortunately, Natasha, the head of his PR team, agreed that he should wave at the cameras from a distance and avoid interviews at all costs. In all honesty, the relationship between Steve and Peggy was never going to last. Peggy was dedicated to her work. That was what had attracted him to the brunette in the first place. But they had been dating for several years and the public was expecting them to marry and produce an heir. When she’d been told, in no uncertain terms by Her Majesty Queen Sarah, that Peggy would have to step down as director of the nation’s counter-terrorism agency if she were to become queen, it had put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship.

Since they met, Steve knew that their relationship would meet this inevitable ending. Though he’d hoped they would be able to work out their differences, Steve knew that Peggy was dedicated to her career and would never step down, even to be queen.

Steve tried to shake these thoughts out of his head as he walked down the red-carpet premiere. He didn’t recognize a lot of the people there. Of the few that he did recognize, he started to wonder how likely it would be to get out of there without having to speak with anyone. His chances plummeted to zero when he saw Tony Stark walk towards him. Most people wouldn’t have enough clearance to just approach them prince of a sovereign nation. However, billionaire and philanthropist – “And playboy, don’t forget playboy,” Stark would likely add – Tony Stark had frequently worked with Steve on improving the lives of the people of Erskine. They had bonded over the fact that the country’s namesake was a scientist and inventor like Stark himself.

“Wow,” Tony had said after Steve had told him the story of King Abraham injecting his son, Prince Stephan, with a serum to improve his health and help defend their small nation. “So all I have to do is come up with some technology to help defend the country and I could probably become the king of small nation, too. Hey, yours isn’t for sale by any chance? I could probably come up with a suit of armor that shots lasers.”

Despite his irreverent nature, Tony had quickly become a close friend. He took his self-selected title of philanthropist seriously. If they had met indoors, Steve was certain that he would’ve been embraced in a big hug. Instead, oddly mindful of royal customs, Tony shook his hand and posed for a few photos with the prince before heading inside. Steve decided to pose for a few more photos, making sure to display his PR smile. The lights blinded him and he could barely see the people on the other side of the barrier. Just as he decided to the sound of a car backfire rang out. Except, he felt something hot graze his cheek and a commotion broke out in the crowd. When he reached up to touch his check, he felt a drop of blood begin to pool against his fingers. If he’d had a chance to look behind him, he’d have seen a bullet hole in the backdrop behind him. In the commotion, his bodyguards formed a human shield around him and rushed him back to his bulletproof car and the safety of the embassy.

--

Bucky received a call from Clint as he was arriving at his apartment early that morning. Thor and Loki’s apartment wasn’t too far away and Bucky chose to walk rather than take the subway or a cab.

“Go for Barnes,” Bucky spoke into the receiver of his cell.

“Bucky, it’s Clint. We’ve got a job that we need to report to at 1300 hours.”

He headed to the closet where he kept a spare bag full of essentials for emergencies like this. He shifted the phone to his other ear and pinned it against this shoulder. He set the bag out on the his kitchen counter and ducked into the bathroom to collect his small toiletry bag. He had enough time to shower, change clothes and grab a quick lunch before meeting Clint.

“Where’s the job and how long?”

“It’s in a country called Erskine. It’s located-”

“I know where it’s located,” Bucky interrupted Clint. “What else can you tell me about the job?”

“Well,” Clint started, “it’s at least a week long and it’ll begin in New York. You’ll be guarding Crown Prince Steven of Erskine.”

[morris-magus-merry-miller]

Chapter 2: Goddess in the Glade

Our band of valiant adventurers set out that very same day on the road to Port Town. As we traveled, Candy and I compared notes, for it happened we had something in common—a love of the culinary arts. She traveled the land with a rickshaw, set up with implements for cooking, baking, and keeping her finished products heated or cooled. It’s quite the astounding set up, one I would love to copy if not for my small legs. I don’t think Nathaniel would appreciate being asked to lug around such a thing either. So alas it must remain but a dream, however while we venture together she has agreed to let me bake our group treats in the mornings while the others prepare their various morning spell rituals and such and such.

I was originally going to go with a classic—croissants—but then Candy and I discovered that Vigo had never had any sweets before. In his life! Ever! Can you imagine? I certainly cannot, even with my vast and boundless imagination, it boggles the mind! So Candy and I were in agreement that our first order of business had to be introducing Vigo to the many wondrous treats this world had to offer.

I consider myself to have quite the knack for cookies and cakes, while Candy makes quite an astounding pie. Between the two of us, I am certain we will round out Vigo’s experience with the many flavors of baked goods available.

On our second day of travel, John and I stopped for some…necessary relief, let’s say. The two of us made for an area deeper in the woods, to be certain we were out of sight of the road to avoid any embarrassing mishaps.

There we met the most fascinating and beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon in my many years of life. The two of us came upon a small woodland glade, a beautiful peaceful place where the sun filtered down through the trees upon a small stream. Before the river, the being was kneeled, drinking. As we accidentally stumbled upon her, she turned to face us.

She was humanoid, in a manner. Her upper body was much like a human woman, although quite a bit taller than most humans—taller, I think, than even Issac. She towered above myself and John. She had long black hair that flowed down her back, framed by two mis-matched horns—one that appeared to be a stag’s, and the other a rhino’s, but upon the side of her forehead like the stag horn. Upon her back were four wings, as mis-matched as her horns. A wasp’s, a butterfly’s, a whippoorwill’s, and a dove’s. Between them all sat a deadly looking scorpion’s tail. Her legs were not humanoid, but were more like that of a satyr. One was a goat’s, and the other a zebra’s.

The strange beauty greeted us, and introduced herself as Elpida. When she extended a hand to shake, it was a lioness’ paw, and her other hand was a hound’s. She was pleased that we were willing to stay and talk, rather than fleeing at her unique visage. For his part, John seemed about ten seconds away from asking her on a date. I was just content that she was willing to let me write this meeting, and even created an illusionary visage of herself standing in place so that I might sketch her—as you will see below.

Elpida was without a doubt the most fascinating creature I have ever laid eyes upon. She told us that each piece of her mis-matched visage was a gift from one of the major gods. The wings, from Calistria, Desna, Pharasma, and Sarenrae. A set of spider arms she could summon on command were from Norgerber. Her eyes, when she leaned forward enough for me to clearly see her features, had irises red and segmented like a fly’s, which were from Urgathoa. Her form was stuck as it was due to Zon’Kuthon, whose gift made it impossible for her to use any polymorph type magics that could change or disguise her striking figure into something less noticeable.

When I asked if she was some kind of goddess herself, she answered no—she was closer to a psychopomp. A rare and unique psychopomp who was not hidden from mortals as such beings normally are, and who had been granted miraculous powers from the various major deities of our world.

I think I can rightly say John and I stumbled upon the rarest of stories today. While we may never see her again, this meeting will be etched into my mind for the rest of my days. And I have written every detail with as much accuracy as I could muster while being quite stunned by this being’s very existence.

Author’s note: suck it, I got a description of a rare and powerful almost never before seen being and a first hand conversation with her, if that isn’t a grand part of a ‘most interesting story ever told’ I don’t know what is!

Note to self: Remove author’s note from final draft and do not taunt the devils you are trying to impress, you idiot.

 Elpida asked what brought us to these travels, and withdrew a tad when we mentioned Dualwood. It turned out she was familiar with the dragonfly man, whose name she revealed was Ulong, and she was aware of what he had done to the town. He had come to her first, once upon a time, asking if it was possible to do. She kept making excuses for him, that he has his reasons for why he’s doing what he did, but also said she found it understandable that we were angry if those John cared about where in that town.

She left us in a hurry, with well wishes and a magical gift—a blessing of her own design that would allow us to ‘strike true’ in a time of dire need. Then as quickly as we’d come face-to-face with the mystical, she was gone, vanished with some teleportation magic or another.

  We met with the others back on the road and told them of what had happened. They’d felt the effects of the blessing as well, so it seemed Elpida had extended it to them as well. None of the adventurers amongst us had seen or heard of such a being before, but we were glad to have stayed on her good side.

Thus we set off on the road once more in high spirits. The next day we were to arrive at Port Town fairly early. However just in time for a quick snack, we came upon a newly opened WcGronalds. We debated whether or not to go in, but upon discovering that Vigo had never had ice cream before Candy and I insisted that we go. After all, we lacked the means to make ice cream ourselves. We may well have missed our only opportunity to introduce Vigo to it, and that would have been a grave and unforgivable tragedy.

It was strangely dark within. When Vigo pushed open the door, four clown ghouls spotted us and rushed for the door, their disturbingly large shoes honking with each step. Vigo—wondrous wizard that he is—didn’t even flinch at the sight. He let loose an inferno that encompassed all of the undead horrors, reducing them to ash without so much as blinking. The mighty goblin stood victorious, and was rewarded for his efforts by the WcGronald’s employees, who had hidden themselves safely within the freezer. Vigo was given all the ice cream he could eat, and they let Candy take the entire ice cream machine so that we might make frozen treats on our travels. An excellent boon for a job well done, if I might say so myself!

 It wasn’t long afterwards that we reached the illustrious and bustling city of Port Town. Here we parted ways with dear Amelia, who said we could always reach her with the Stones of Farspeech if needed.

Vigo, despite his glorious display against both the zombies and the gibbering mouther previously, seemed rather offput by the crowded city streets. He stuck close to us, positively buried in Gordon’s wooly fur.

 Note to self: maybe edit that out if this ever gets published. If Vigo reads it you’re a dead man. You’ve seen his magic. He’ll kill you with fire. And lightning. Fire-lightning.

Note to self 2: Can Vigo read?

 We went looking for an inn to rent some rooms to use as our base of operations as we looked for Ringwald. While we were at it, John parted ways for a time. He said he already had a place and needed to check in. We agreed to let him know which inn we ended up holing up in over the very incredibly useful Stones of Farspeech.

Not long afterwards Vigo pointed us in the direction of a lovely inn he spotted.

 Note to self again: Obviously Vigo can read, he transcribes scrolls all the time, and he must have read the inn’s sign. That was a very rude assumption on my part, although it is true that many goblin tribes believe that writing can steal your soul so it isn’t a completely uncalled for assumption…

 We approached the innkeeper, a lovely woman named Paige Sterling, right as she was kicking out a hooligan who apparently used to have a permanent room, but who had abused his privileges one time too many. Paige offered us his room at a discounted rate to teach the foolish rabble-rouser a lesson. Candy tossed her a platinum rather than a gold, and in exchange the delightful young woman offered to give us all rooms instead of being cramped up in the single room she’d originally offered. Her only catch was that Peanut and Gordon needed to be stabled, as there wasn’t room for a bear and a ram in the inn, but she offered a ticket which she told Vigo and Issac to show the stablehand, which would get them a free stay on the house.

With rooms secured we asked Paige if she’d seen anyone new in town who matched Ringwald’s description. She hadn’t, but she pointed us in the direction of one Captain of the Guard Terrance Gladshire, who may have heard something she had not. I took the initiative and informed Vigo, Issac, and John that we would be departing the inn to speak with the captain, and to meet us there. Yet somehow Candy and I reached the guard’s station at the same time as Vigo and Issac. John did not arrive until later, when we were already speaking with Sir Terrance Gladshire.

Terrance was a young man, whom the guards below him didn’t seem to give quite the respect he deserved. From the word around town, crime was virtually non-existent with Terrance leading, yet those under him treat him much like a child they get a kick out of teasing. It would seem one of his parents was in the position before him, and the older guards knew him when he was younger, so the view of him as the captain’s ankle biter hadn’t quite faded from memory as of yet.

 Regardless, we met with the captain, who told us that Cleric Ringwald had been in their custody until recently. She had come seeking sanctuary, believing she would be safe under the guard’s watch. They’d reluctantly agreed to lock her up—from the look of it the jail cells weren’t getting much use anyways. However the next morning she had vanished, with only a note left behind, indicating she had been taken to the Unbound Hollow, a series of caverns that used to be a tourist attraction until a tribe of Duergar moved in and people began disappearing in the area. Terrance felt there was reason to believe the Duergar were responsible for kidnapping Ringwald, as well as a number of his men. We knew what we had to do—the future of Dual Wood depended upon us finding Ringwald after all. Captain Gladshire offered us compensation should we be able to rescue his men while we were seeking the cleric, to which my companions heartily agreed.

 And so we set out, to the caverns a short walk from town. Before us loomed the dread Unbound Hollow. The mighty adventurers readied themselves to enter the cavern, with certainty in our hearts that we would find and rescue the captive cleric, and return the world to its rightful order. And with that, we stepped into the cavern.

 ...

 ...

And immediately fell through a trap waiting for us within the entrance.

[jtoddstrangersfic-blog]

Strangers (Jason Todd x Female OC): Chapter 2

TRIGGERS: Cursing, some domestic abuse, mention of wanting to die, attempted mugging/assault, mentions of drugs

Author’s Note: Sorry it took so long to post this one, I’ll do better I swear!

3,920 words

Masterlist

Jason

It was 5 o’clock on Wednesday, and Jason found himself laughing along with Rachel and a few other students from his World Literature class in the library at Gotham Community College. The group took up one of the large tables on the second floor, and they were surrounded by other groups working in a similar manner on various coursework.

The group was engrossed in gossip regarding some of the other students in their Literature class, many of whom Jason didn’t even know. He relished in the stories and rumors being shared by his classmates, who were trying to have some lighthearted fun after the two hours of work they put into their research assignments. Although he didn’t particularly like gossip, Jason was nosy and didn’t see the harm in joining in on such a *normal* college activity.

“I can’t believe Bryant got away with that!” Chelsea, one of Rachel’s more boisterous friends, snickered into her palm. The group was talking quietly to avoid any eavesdroppers, but every now and then one of them would crack up and become a little too loud. “You know he almost dropped out of high school because of that, right? We were in the same classes together senior year, and we were all sure he would get caught. I didn’t even see him around campus until recently, and I don’t even know if he was at graduation-“

Jason tuned her out, glancing around the library to the clock on the wall closest to his table. He would probably stay another hour before he needed to leave. He had work for a different class to finish before patrol tonight, and didn’t want to have to wake up early the next morning to finish it. His eyes traveled down the wall to one of the individual cubbies against the wall, where his gaze fell on the back of a familiar head. It was the quiet girl who sat next to him in class.

His eyes raked down her body, taking in her light blue jeans and trendy brown leather jacket. She was wearing a jacket again, on another warm day.

Rachel nudged Jason, pulling his eyes away from the girl as her hand flew across her notebook not thirty feet from where he sat.

“That’s the girl from our class, right?” He asked Rachel quietly, motioning to the girl in question with his head. “The one who sits next to me?”

“I think so.” Rachel followed his nod, her eyes landing on the girl’s back. “I don’t know her very well.”

“No one does.” Sam cut in, noticing the pair eyeing the girl writing like a madman in her notebook. “She’s hot, but never hangs with anyone.”

“I’ve had a couple classes with her.” Chelsea whispered, her eyes never leaving the new topic of conversation. “Her name’s Rian, she’s weird. Quiet, doesn’t really socialize with any of us. Thinks she’s above it all, you know, all this college stuff. I never see her at, like, parties or bars or anything, I don’t even think she lives on campus.”

“Snooty.” Rachel added, her eyes trailing along Jason’s face. Her mouth twitches when she sees the interest he’s taken in Rian.

His eyes were drawn to her, out of pity or curiosity he isn’t sure. She sits next to him in class, (well, her bag does), and he still hasn’t had a single conversation with her. The only reason he knows what her voice sounds like is because she sometimes answers questions in class, but only when she’s called on. She never volunteers information. She’s guarded, something Jason sympathizes with.

“Jason?” Chelsea snapped her fingers in his face to gain his attention. “Are you with me?”

“Sorry, yeah.” He muttered, blue eyes reluctantly leaving Rian. “I just- never mind.”

As if on cue, Jason’s phone vibrated on the table next to his hand. He glanced at it quickly; a message from Dick.

“Shit.” He mumbled, opening the lengthy message. Dick was never one to be brief. “I have to go,” Jason started packing his things, standing quickly as he typed a response to Dick. Apparently Tim found a lot of information about the drug lords and Bruce wanted everyone at the house ASAP to brief them for a raid. If they could pull this off, it would stop a large shipment of laced heroin from entering the streets, and prevent a lot of overdoses and potential addictions. “Thanks for inviting me, this was fun.” He flashed a quick smile at the group, his eyes landing on a disappointed Rachel. “I’ll see you on Friday?”

She gave him a small nod and a shy wave as he rushed out of the library, grateful he brought his motorcycle today.

It was going to be a long night.

Rian

Rian was frantically trying to finish her statistics homework at the Gotham Community College library before returning to her apartment, where she was sure her boyfriend of three years, Riley, would be waiting. Although the couple hadn’t officially moved in together, he basically lived with her. Rian didn’t mind in the beginning of their relationship, but the past year had turned volatile as an uneasy tension settled between the two young adults.

He became paranoid. Controlling. Distrusting. Everything he swore he would never become after witnessing a violent upbringing on behalf of his alcoholic father. It started with small actions; questioning the “appropriateness” of Rian’s outfits, asking her to make him dinner before work because he was too tired; and eventually turned into more problematic actions; grabbing Rian’s arm too hard during arguments, prohibiting her from leaving her apartment to see friends without him, controlling every aspect of her life.

Riley would berate her, accuse her of cheating on him, accuse her of thinking she was better than him. He would throw her around the apartment like a rag doll, releasing his pent-up anger and aggression and frustrations. He would leave trails of bruises along her arms and torso from his outbursts, and sometimes from the sex he would force her to have with him after. He was slowly becoming his father, and Rian were helpless to save him from it.

She initially stayed with him because she thought he could be saved, but now she stayed with him out of fear and shame. Over time, Rian began to believe the things he said, even though she knew better. Even if she left, as he often suggested sarcastically, what would she do? Where would she go? She was a shell of a person now, a black-and-white copy of the person she used to be. He had broken her, and she was stuck in a cycle of violence and unhappiness she couldn’t escape from.

The only joy in her life was her love of fashion, books, and writing. She was lucky to hold a part-time work-from-home job as a junior assistant editor for the Gotham Chronicle. It didn’t pay much, but it allowed her to pay some of her rent with a little money left over for groceries. Rian was fortunate to hold a generous scholarship from Gotham Community College, which helped pay the remainder of her rent in addition to her classes and course materials. As her final year at Gotham began, Rian feared what she would do after graduating. She didn’t have any money saved up, and Riley would sooner chain her to their bed than let her get another part-time job somewhere.

Rian’s mind drifted further from her homework, but a series of giggles behind her chimed in her ear. It was a group of students from her World Literature class, and she was sure they were laughing at her. She only had a few classes with the notorious Chelsea Rosa, and never did anything to upset her, but Rian knew from the disgusted look on Chelsea’s face anytime the two girls were in the same room that she hated her. Chelsea probably hated how Rian always sported perfect hair and makeup, and meticulously planned her outfits every Sunday night for the following week. Chelsea probably hated the facade Rian hid behind to hide her insecurities and toxic relationship with Riley. Rian wished she didn’t care, she wished she didn’t let it gnaw at her insides anytime she saw Chelsea, but it did. Rian couldn’t fight it, and just like her relationship with Riley, she was helpless to change it.

Rian risked a glance over her shoulder at the table of five students, all of whom were definitely looking at her. Most turned their heads when they saw her notice them. Rachel, Sam, Joaquin, Yesenia. The only one who held Rian's gaze was Chelsea.

Rian turned away quickly. She was definitely done with her homework now. She glanced at her phone as she began quietly packing her bag. It was almost six o’clock; she should have been on her way home twenty minutes ago.

Rian sped through the library toward the main doors as she mentally cursed herself for not setting a timer. Riley expected her to make dinner for him every night, something he subconsciously learned from his years as a child observing his parents. He expected her to be back from classes by six o’clock, seven at the very latest before his shift at the Gotham docks.

Riley was a few years older than Rian, but never attended college. He chose instead to work as a security guard at the docks, taking extra shifts at night to earn more money. He would always throw that factor in Rian’s face, claiming he needed the extra money to take her out to eat and buy her new clothes and makeup. She never asked him to do any of these things, but again he learned them from watching his parents. His father was the family breadwinner, and although he showered Riley’s mother with gifts, everything came at a price. He expected Rian to give him anything he wanted; dinner, massages, sex; in return for these hollow gifts. Empty sentiments to their toxic relationship.

Rain began to lap against the concrete beneath Rian’s heels as she hurried across campus. She opened Uber on her phone, hoping to catch a nearby driver to get her to the apartment as quickly as possible. Just as she began to type in her address, wiping the screen dry from the rain with the sleeve of her new brown jacket, the screen went black.

Rian stared at the rectangle in her hands with disbelief. Did it really have to die now? She swallowed hard, fear rising in the pit of her stomach as she started running toward her apartment. She needed to get there, and she needed to get there fast.

Raindrops pelted her face as she hurried through the desolate streets of Gotham. Bad things happened in Gotham to women who traveled alone at night, yet here she was. She partly hoped some thug would stop her, end her miserable existence to prevent her from returning home to Riley. It was a twisted thought, but it settled her nerves with its realism.

Rian scolded herself for staying at the library too late. She just wanted to finish her homework, she was so close. And there would be no finishing it when she arrived home, not with Riley there. Even after he left for work, she was usually too emotionally and physically drained to do much of anything. Dr. Cortez cancelling his Wednesday class presented Rian with the perfect opportunity to catch up on her statistics class.

She hurried into her apartment building twenty-five minutes later, darting passed the broken elevator to the staircase to climb the eleven flights to her apartment.

11F. That was her.

Rian sighed as she stuck her key in the lock on the green door, dreading the fuming man on the other side.

“You’re home late, babe.” Riley commented coldly the second she closed the front door behind her, locking it against intruders. He was perched on the couch, watching a Bruce Willis movie on her TV.

“I got caught in the rain.” Rian muttered feebly, dropping her wet bag at her side. “And my phone died so I couldn’t call an Uber.”

Riley turned his head to watch her with distant eyes as she removed her jacket, hanging it on the small coat rack next to the door. Rian brushed her sopping wet hair over her shoulder, hoping to keep herself busy as Riley sized her up.

“What do you want to eat?” She asked quietly, opening the refrigerator. “We have…” Her green eyes scanned the barren shelves, cursing herself again for wasting time at the library instead of grocery shopping. Her eyes scanned over the half-eaten bag of lettuce, various condiments, tubs of hummus, and very old Chinese takeout before she remembered the box of pasta she kept stashed on top of the refrigerator. “I can make pasta if you want? Before you have to leave?” Rian had been saving that pasta for a special meal for herself when Riley would be working all weekend, but she lacked the right ingredients to make the meal and she could always buy more when she eventually went to the store.

She glanced at the clock above the stove. Riley usually left around eight o’clock, sometimes nine or ten depending on which shift he took. Tonight she was sure he was supposed to leave at eight, and she hoped he would leave earlier. He was already wearing his uniform, confirming her suspicions.

“We’re out of sauce.” He stated coldly, rising slowly from his seat on the couch. “How am I supposed to eat pasta without any sauce?”

Rian froze. She knew what was going to happen before it did. This happened hundreds of times before. It was her fault she didn’t go shopping, and Riley wasn’t going to let that go. He would belittle her and berate her, maybe hit her or push her down. She would apologize profusely until he was through fighting with her. Sometimes she would fight back, but those outbursts became less frequent, as she knew she would never win.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think-“

“You never do, do you?” He scolded, walking toward her as she cowered away from him. “You never think about anyone else, even your own boyfriend. I take care of you, right? I take you out to eat, buy you nice things, support your desire to get an education even though it’s a waste of time,” He sneered the last part and Rian swallowed hard. “And yet you can’t make me a good dinner. I never fucking eat well because you never care to make me dinner. It’s fucking unbelievable.”

Rian stays quiet, squeezing her eyes closed as Riley approaches. It’s futile to try to reason with him.

“You have to be the most selfish bitch I’ve ever met.” He continued as he brushed passed her, grabbing his jacket as he unlocked the apartment door. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, you better have that pasta ready.”

He slammed the door loudly, and Rian released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. That interaction had gone better than most, but she knew she had to go to the store to buy his pasta sauce before it closed. If he returned to no dinner… she shuddered at the memory of all the foundation she had to use to hide her black eye the last time this happened.

Rian grabbed her wet coat from the rack, counting down from 100 in her head before leaving to avoid seeing Riley in the lobby. It was going to be a long night.

The corner convenience store five blocks from her building was fortunately still open as Rian rushed inside, frantically looking through the pasta and chip aisle for Riley’s favorite pasta sauce. She found it after a few minutes, finally allowing herself to relax as she cashed out with Mrs. Chen, the kind older woman who owned the store.

“Pasta sauce at this hour?” She asked, offering Rian a kind smile.

“It’s an emergency.” Rian smiled back at her as she was handed her change.

“Must be.” Mrs. Chen muttered before turning to the only other shopper in the store. “Need help? We’re closing soon.”

The man grunted in response, and Rian felt his eyes on her as she retreated to the door. Rian ignored the dread that filled her stomach, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck as she rushed into the rain.

She only had two blocks before she would be safely in her apartment. Well, as safe as she could be knowing Riley would be returning later. She was practically running across the vacant streets, not a soul in sight.

As Rian passed the laundromat where she brought her laundry, she felt a pair of hands grab her waist. She was hauled into an alleyway before she knew what was happening.

“Easy there, shortcake.” A burly voice sounded in her ear. A dirty hand clasped down on Rian's mouth as she tried to kick her assailant, struggling in his grasp. The smell of cigarettes and cheap beer filled her nostrils, the rain intensifying the rancidness. “Where are you off to at such a late hour?”

She squirmed, determined to break free. She had to make that pasta, or worse things would happen to her. Or maybe this was the reprise Rian was wishing for. Maybe this man would end her life and none of her panic even mattered. No more Riley, no more pain, no more hurting. But that wasn’t an option. Rian may have been broken down by Riley, but she was still a fighter, and this wasn’t how she planned on dying.

The thug removed his hand from Rian’s mouth to pull the plastic bag from her hand, the bag containing the pasta sauce for Riley. Rian found her opportunity to scream, to beg someone for help. She screamed as loud as she could, her vocal cords straining against her throat as she tried to wiggle herself free.

The man tightened his grip on Rian’s waist, his hand inching lower and lower toward her pelvis. She kicked him again, and he finally released her. Rian fell to the ground with an unsuspecting thud, catching herself against the wet pavement with her hands. Her palms burned from the impact, but she forced herself up, trying desperately to stand.

Before she could get herself upright, she felt the man’s hands grab one of her legs to drag her back toward him. Rian kicked, cried out, squirmed around. Anything to get free. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. She had to get away.

She could hardly see the man in the dark, but she was kicking and struggling and doing anything she could to free herself.

In an instant his hands released her leg, and Rian took the opportunity to crawl away. She could hear grunting behind her, but the rain was too loud to make out what was happening. It sounded like fighting, as if someone had finally come to her rescue.

Rian didn’t glance back, instead making her escape. She ran as fast as she could in her heels in the direction of her apartment building, only stopping to catch her breath when she was safely inside the building with the door locked behind her.

Rian’s legs ached; her palms itched; and she could feel a migraine start to push against her skull. She gasped for breath, thoroughly grateful for her escape. That someone, or something, saved her. Maybe things would be okay.

As her heart began to settle, she remembered the pasta sauce. Still in its bag. Still in the alley. Panic began to rise in her chest. This wasn’t over.

Jason

“This’ll teach you to harass people, you old fuck.” Jason landed another punch to the degenerate as he struggled in Jason’s grasp. Jason had found him attacking some screaming woman while he was on his way home after leaving the Batcave. She was lucky he was too tired to patrol, or she would have been on her own. She was a fighter though, he saw her kicking and screaming at her assailant.

She crawled away before Jason could help her, but that was probably for the best. He didn’t have it in him to comfort another distraught Gothamite. He just wanted to change out of his wet clothes and take a hot shower.

As Jason left the man unconscious and handcuffed in the alley, tagged with a tracker for Tim and Dick to pick up on their way through, his mind wandered to Rachel. What if something like this happened to her? Or one of her friends? Would he be there to help them? And what if he was too late?

Jason shook his head. This was another reason he couldn’t get too close to people. Gotham was a dangerous city, and almost every citizen had their run-in with a criminal or two. Some lived to see another day, and some did not. He couldn’t worry about protecting everyone he cared about; there were more important things happening.

Jason grappled to the top of a nearby building, removing his helmet to let the rain wash away the sweat and stress from the past few hours. The meeting with Bruce had been too long. There were no viable ways to prevent the drugs from entering the city, and Bruce wouldn’t allow any of the boys to involve themselves until he had a solid plan with reliable back-up. But they were running out of time. By tomorrow, the drugs could already be in the city. The weight of that realization settled unpleasantly on Jason’s shoulders, making it hard for him to focus on anything else.

He was about to run toward the next rooftop, two blocks from his apartment, when slight movement under one of the streetlights below caught his attention. He pulled his helmet back on, cursing whoever it was walking through the streets. He didn’t have it in him for another attack. Maybe he would leave this one to Dick when he finally arrived to pick up the unconscious thug.

He peered over the edge of the building, watching in disbelief as a small figure tentatively peeked into the alley he had just vacated. He instantly recognized her as the same woman who was being attacked moments before.

The woman used her phone flashlight as she carefully stepped back into the alley. She didn’t appear to realize her assailant was slumped against the wall near her, unconscious thanks to the Red Hood. When the woman stumbled on a plastic bag, she crouched down. Jason watched curiously as she opened the wet bag. He used his helmet to zoom in on her, his night vision allowing him to see almost perfectly in the dark.

She pulled out a shard of broken glass covered in a dark, thick liquid. He saw her hands trembling as she dropped the shard, bringing one hand to her face as she backed away from the scene. She stumbled out of the alley, now illuminated by the streetlight as she stuck her wet hands deep into the pockets of her brown leather jacket.

Jason recognized that jacket, and taking another look at her, recognized her jeans and boots too. He studied the top of her head, realizing it was the same head of dark (now very wet) hair that occupied the seat next to him.

It was Rian.

[rumbelleshowdown]

Panic! at the Spinner’s House

Author: lenadanvers A/N: This is heavily inspired by the Panic! At The Disco song with the same title as our prompt. Prompt: The emperor’s new clothes. Group: E

Avonlea had fallen. Belle, its princess, was missing. No one had heard from her for months, and the King himself, Maurice the Sixth, was rumoured to have passed away. The entire Enchanted Forest was suffering for it, because Lord Gaston was ruling instead of Avonlea’s rightful leaders.

As one could imagine, Lord Gaston was not known for his kindness to the citizens of Leeds, a small town with many secrets. One such secret was a spinner named Rumplestiltskin. He had been marked as a coward for running at the time of the first Ogre War, but since then he had gained the favor of the Princess. He and Avonlea’s sweetheart had grown close to one another when she came to retrieve some thread for her embroidery. Even Rumplestiltskin’s son, Baelfire, had loved Belle from the start. The rest was history...

Everything changed when she was promised to Lord Gaston, but then she had gone missing. Rumplestiltskin had heard nothing from her since she had informed him of her impending engagement. The spinner was heartbroken, without a doubt, but that was nothing to the agony of knowing that Belle was now missing.

One day, Rumplestiltskin and Baelfire were eating their midday meal. No matter how many spices Belle had tried to put in it, it was still flavorless sludge. Even thinking so absently of Belle made the poor spinner’s heart ache. He missed Belle more than he could say, but one of these days he’d have to accept that she would not be returning.

With these thoughts in his head, Rumplestiltskin pushed away the bowl. “Here Bae, you eat the rest,” he murmured with a reluctant sigh, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms out on either side of him. It was at this exact moment that there was a soft yet urgent knock on the back door.

Rumplestiltskin sighed, unable to stop his brain from suggesting that perhaps, at last, THIS was Belle. He shook his head. It couldn’t be. Perhaps one of the ladies in the town needed something on their dress fixed. That was a much more reasonable explanation, and one that got Rumple moving.

He grabbed his cane, moving to stand. Baelfire’s eyes were glued to the door as he waited for Rumple to open it.

Another knock rasped against the door, and Rumple couldn’t deny he’d heard it now. He opened the door cautiously, praying he wasn’t inviting an attack on his family.

A dusty figure toppled into the room, wearing a simple blue and white dress. Her hair, though, seemed familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place his finger on. He didn’t WANT to hope that this was truly Belle. After months of heartache, it would only end in heartbreak surely.

“BELLE!” It was Bae who recognised her first as she sat up on the floor, pushing her hair back from her face and curling it behind her ear. “Oh, thank the Gods you are safe, Belle! Everyone thinks you’re dead,” Bae said in a hushed tone. He rushed to go and hug the woman tightly.

She hugged him back fiercely as Rumplestiltskin closed the door hurriedly. “Enough Bae. I’m sure Belle has quite the story to tell,” Rumple said, not unkindly.

Belle clutched Baelfire tighter, shaking her head and reaching out for Rumple. “This has been the worst few months of my life, Rum. To hold you both in my arms is all the balm I need,” she admitted over Bae’s head, giving Rumple a significant look. She hoped the look would explain that the budding romance between them, could be resumed if he wanted.

Rumplestiltskin hesitated, then stepped into her arms and wrapped his arms around her and his son, breathing in their scents. “Are you alright, Belle? What has happened?” he asked, tilting his head.

“My father is dead. Gaston— “ Belle swallowed a cry, shaking her head to force herself to focus. “I’m taking back the crown...the kingdom, and I need both of you to support me if I have half a chance.”

Rumplestiltskin rubbed her back in slow circles. This was safe. It was a mere hug. Not a promise of his heart, though if he were honest, she had that too.

“How will you do it?” Bae asked, feeling relieved beyond words that he was now safely wedged between his two favourite people in the world. “Can I help?”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

They both spoke as one, and Belle spared a grin at the spinner before shaking her head. “It’s dangerous. I will need to find a way to see who is still loyal to Avonlea’s rightful bloodline.”

“Well, the boys talk,” Bae pointed out. “And Papa’s around all sorts of people with his thread,” he grinned, nudging his father, who reluctantly was beginning to see Bae’s point. “We can work on that part while you decide how to move forward!” 

He nodded. “He’s right! We’ve got word of mouth in a way that doesn’t involve sharing that you’re alive too early. I assume you must have disappeared for a reason,” he said, voice slightly gruff. “You don’t need to make it mean nothing now.”

Belle was crestfallen for a moment, wondering just how badly he’d been hurt with her disappearance. But she pushed that away for now; there was work to be done. “You’re right,” she reluctantly agreed. “Gaston won’t know what hit him when he finds that I’m alive,” she snarled.

“Did Gaston try and kill you too, Belle?” Rumplestiltskin put his hand over Bae’s far too blunt mouth.

“I’m sorry, Belle. It seems Bae has forgotten his manners.” Rumple forced out a sigh and a slight smile.

“It’s alright. No, he didn’t try to kill me. He wanted me as his queen….. He didn’t understand me when I said no, so I left.” Belle shrugged, sighing and avoiding Rumplestiltskin’s gaze. “I would have rather been a spinner’s wife.”

Rumplestiltskin didn’t know what to say to that. He cleared his throat as he looked down. “We’ll have to wait until at least tomorrow to start truly investigating the people’s values. Market will be closing soon,” he murmured.

Belle gave him a weak smile, nodding. “That’s fine. Mulan is out securing us a place to stay for the next few days,” she explained. Mulan had been her guard.

“Stay with us. You aren’t safe out there. People will recognise you,” Bae cried out, pulling at his father’s shirt. “Papa, tell her to stay.”

“Bae does have a point,” Rumplestiltskin carefully agreed, obviously uncertain whether or not he should be offering this. “If you are in need, Belle, you know you should always count on us to help you. We’ve plenty of room for you.” That wasn’t quite the truth, at least about the abundance of room, but Belle knew that. Belle knew everything about their broken little family and somehow, still she said that she’d rather be a spinner’s wife.

Belle nodded, grateful and uncertain at the same time and it showed on her face. “If that’s what you want. I thank you,” she murmured, a genuine smile taking its rightful place on her face. “A night’s refuge.”

“You will be a wonderful Queen, Belle, if that’s what you wish to be,” Rumple told her after a moment. Bae reached over to the bowl of abandoned lunch that Rumple had offered to him. “You hungry?” the young teen asked Belle.

“Famished. Thanks, Bae.” Belle rose gracefully and sat down at the table, eating the sludge without a single complaint. “I hope I will make a sufficient Queen, Rum. I have so many questions, and no one to ask them of.”

She made a face. “At least with my overcoming Gaston’s reign, there will be new rules I can put in place,” she considered aloud.

“And what will you change?” Rumplestiltskin asked curiously, tilting his head and taking in the view. Belle was so beautiful, even with the dust covering her face and dress. He never wanted to look anywhere else.

Belle began, “So many things. For starters, no woman shall be forced to be married against her will. If she isn’t part of the choice, she shall not be part of the match. And…..” Here she hesitated, obviously uncertain about voicing the next part.

“And?” Rumplestiltskin encouraged, sitting down at the table across from her.

“And royals may wed who they wish. No matter what their social status.”

[fordarkisthesuede]

At the Brink of Midnight - Epilogue

This final chapter is dedicated to you, dear reader, but especially all of you who comment. You inspire me.

<previous> <interlude> <all> 

(Read on Ao3 or continue below:)

Epilogue

Sacrifices have to be made, he told himself, You knew this had to happen one day. You knew this couldn’t last forever.

But he wanted it to. It was such a selfish thing, trying so hard to force the universe into his submission, just so he could have his way.

Parents always seemed immortal, and ever-present, until the rug was thrown from under your feet. Bruce knew that all too well.

He had to do this. Had to, had to, had to – or else turn his back on himself, on his city, on reality itself.

The ringing dials in his ear sounded like alarm bells. He pushed away the thought of just hanging up.

“Hello?”

Bruce felt his heart shake. He tried to take another deep breath, like the twenty he’d done before he managed to call.

“Bruce? Are you there?”

“Hey, Alfred...” (Oh God, that didn’t come out confident at all. He sounded like a sullen teenager.) “What are you up to?”

“Are you alright? You sound shaken.”

“Yeah, I’m… I’m okay, just… A lot’s happened since we talked.” Bruce shut his eyes and breathed deep, letting the familiar damp air of the Batcave fill his lungs. He heard the rush of the waterfall behind him and concentrated on that.

“And here I’ve been, actively avoiding the Gotham news,” Alfred commented dryly, “It’s…not anything major, I hope? Tiffany and John are alright? Wayne Enterprises is still standing?”

“No, no everything is…fine, at home. Tiffany and John seem a little better than normal, actually.”

“Well, that’s…good to hear.” There was a beat of silence, and Bruce found himself chewing his tongue. “What’s wrong, then?”

Bruce felt like he’d rather take another hit of Fear Toxin than go through what he had to say next. He’d do anything to keep Alfred in the dark, play a third life, and just lie and pretend it was all fine.

“A few days ago,” he started, trying hard to round up the bruising sensation in his chest, “A few days ago, John called me. From Arkham. He… He needed my help. There was a doctor there who’d been abusing patients. Using them as test subjects. So I thought… I thought I could be discreet.” His next breath was steadier. Perhaps it was just because he was relaying facts. “I tried to gather evidence, and got caught, and… I inadvertently broke John out of Arkham, when he was drugged with the doctor’s experiment. I had to take him here, find an antidote, and… I…”

It was quiet on the other end; Bruce could hear his heart pounding in his ears.

“The doctor went on the run, and I couldn’t just be Bruce Wayne anymore, after that.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t have any evidence. I had to find it, and him, and I thought I could just…point him at the GCPD, and then he attacked the city! I couldn’t… I couldn’t be myself to take him down after that! I had to…!”

Bruce realized too late that he was crying. He hadn’t cried for so long. He’d held them in after the incident at Ace Chemicals. He’d held them in when Alfred threatened to leave. He’d held them in when John hurt him and soothed him upstairs in the parlor.

He hadn’t cried since he’d discovered the mess his parents left behind.

He thought of the gravestone he’d visited not an hour ago. It felt cold to the touch, as always, and he’d looked at it and told them he was going to pick up where he’d left off, cleaning the city from the inside-out, no longer choosing the hand to hold the sponge, but using both, one after another. He’d told them he wasn’t working alone anymore, too, with more pride than he deserved to have.

“Maybe… Maybe I did make some of my own enemies. I know I caused some of my own problems, and made others’ worse. But…if it… If it wasn’t for me – for Batman – the city would be suffering right now. I can’t… I can’t leave Gotham to fend for itself, Alfred. Please understand, I’m… I’m not alone anymore. It’s different. It’s not a crusade, it’s… It’s a choice.”

There was a slow breath of air over the phone. “I can’t say I didn’t see this coming,” Alfred resigned, “but I’d… Hoped foolishly, I suppose.” There was a pause, making Bruce feel the hot tear streaming down his cheek. There was no one there but himself to wipe it away, as always. “Bruce, you’ve always been a hero to Gotham, no matter what name you wear. Perhaps I was a little…presumptuous in saying you made your own enemies. Looking back, the likes of Oswald Cobblepot, Harvey Dent, Vicki Vale, the majority of The Pact – they would have always turned out rotten to some degree, even without the likes of Batman. Even with your attempts to help them; and I know you tried. You can’t seem to turn away from rushing into a burning building on the off-chance someone is still inside. But… That’s also why I’m so proud of you.” (Bruce felt his ribs shudder slightly, and he let his breath out slowly through his nostrils rather than risk the rattling breath of a sob.) “You’re the only Wayne to ever put their life into the city and not ask for anything in return.”

Bruce didn’t want to hope. He didn’t want to ask if Alfred was leading towards a good end. If he had learned anything at all over the span of his life, it was that Bruce did not get a happy ending. Not a real one.

“But you know I can’t come back. I can’t watch you hurt yourself night after night and wait around for the inevitable.” A beat. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you, Bruce. You’ll always be my ward. I hope you know that.”

“I love you too, Alfred.” Bruce felt like he was drowning, even though his voice was scratchy and rough from strain. (He would not openly sob over the phone. He was not a child.)

“Then let’s catch up properly on Saturday, shall we?” Alfred said in his dry, gentle tone, “I have a feeling the Gotham Gazette is only going to tell the last quarter of what sounds like a very long story, and I trust even an insomniac like you will need some sleep if someone as excitable as John was hanging about the manor for a couple of days.”

Bruce felt his head reel at the brief thought that Alfred somehow knew, but the feeling swept away almost as quickly when he realized his former-butler was merely addressing John’s energetic nature. “Okay,” he said in a short breath, sniffing.

“Good night, then, Bruce. Sleep well.”

Bruce let his father figure’s voice wash over him, even though he’d long since memorized the exact pitch and phrasing Alfred used when bidding him goodnight. “’Night, Alfred.”

Alfred hung up, and Bruce was suddenly faced with the looming reality of a very empty house above him and the uncomfortable thought that he could, under no circumstance, admit to his father figure that he was in love with the man who had been responsible for several deaths and the deep scar sitting on Bruce’s left side.

…at least not for a while.

*~*~*~*~*

As Commissioner Gordon had predicted, Arkham Asylum had been a complete mess on all of Wednesday. Even without Dr. Crane’s bomb threats, there was a constant parade of media outlets trying to get the story on “the insane doctor” and “the Batman/Joker team up”. John Doe’s lawyer was practically fending off the reporters with a stick as he consulted his client about the new charges brought to his name and advised him not to take interviews until everything was sorted. John apparently had enough reason to agree, since there were no new information on what had transpired at the train station, though Bruce felt it was probably reluctantly; John had mentioned in a conversation before that he always wanted to be on T.V. (Bruce remembered that talk very well, since John had mentioned an interview of him so old that Bruce didn’t recall properly until halfway through the discussion.)

Bruce had played the concerned, angry friend on Wednesday – both of the police officers that had been staking out his house hadn’t even left him a message before leaving, and of course he didn’t get the official word on what happened until he’d called up the GCPD himself as a concerned citizen. Then the Arkham staff told him over the phone to try again Thursday, as they were too busy to allow visitors to anyone amongst the chaos of officers and media outlets interfering with their schedules. He later apologized to those at Wayne Enterprises he inconvenienced by his absence and explained it away by oversleeping. No one batted an eyelash; they were used to that sort of behavior. It was at times like that when Bruce was rather thankful of his old reputation.

On Thursday, he had driven to Arkham early in the morning. The asylum in any hour looked gloomy, but somehow the rolling thunderclouds behind it that morning put Bruce back in mind of sharp spires and gargoyles and ancient, squealing locks long since discarded, and he felt almost like the place had been waiting for him to return. He was promptly told John wasn’t allowed visitors at the moment, despite Bruce’s display of growing concern over what had happened outside the asylum and his genuinely distressed demeanor. The swarm of reporters trying to get in stopped him from causing too much of a fuss; he was spotted anyway, and hustled back into his Gran Turismo without so much as a word. Even without the inevitable call to Alfred the night before, he felt miserable enough not to want to say anything to anyone he didn’t have to.

Finally, on Friday afternoon, he called into question the security measures surrounding the night of John’s escape, asking about how anyone could have supposedly snuck in or out of Arkham when the camera system should have had been still functional during the long upgrade process, even if it didn’t record anything. The receptionist told him she couldn’t possibly know the answer to that, and told the nearest orderly to escort Bruce to John’s room, muttering under her breath about how she wasn’t being paid enough.

Tom Welker, the guard responsible for checking him over, looked completely drained. When asked, he’d said he’d had a long shift, what with the slew of reporters coming in and out to interview staff, and the sudden loss of two staff members making everyone rush around and constantly need to be checked over. Bruce didn’t inquire as to who else was gone; his escort, Mark Sylvester, just scoffed at Tom. “Are you kidding me? We had one guy go all Hannibal on us and your little crush just call up and tell us to take her job and shove it up our asses. That’s not ‘losing staff’, that’s more like taking anvils to the damn chest!”

The journey up to the fifth floor was slow. Mark, thinking Bruce had no clue about what happened the night John escaped, told him in no uncertain terms that the security team in charge of Sunday night’s camera system upgrade had been getting an earful from everyone for allowing a complete blackout period rather than upgrading in slow steps. (Dr. Thomas had apparently kept quiet the fact that he signed off on the idea. Bruce didn’t exactly blame him, since he was already facing rumors that he hadn’t checked Dr. Crane’s background properly and skated over the psychological evaluation. Besides, Bruce was partially to blame for not asking about the blackout window in more depth, so why would he ever bring it up?)

Bruce feigned surprise and intrigue through the whole story, and once they landed on the fifth floor, he asked if anyone had known how John escaped.

��No idea,” Mark shrugged, leading the way to John’s room. “Dr. Leland asked him, and all he said was that the Batman helped him out. No one knows how – the guy’s been missing for six months, and we monitor Doe’s mail. It’s not like he can make any calls, either. Jerry says he swore he saw Batman on one of the towers last night, but I think the Bat has this place bugged. Wouldn’t put it past him, with that Lady Arkham stunt two years ago.”

Bruce felt the corner of his lip twitch. He had visited the asylum the past two nights in his gear, hoping someone would spot him. His idea had worked; and he’d seen John sound asleep both times, which he was sixty-percent sure was a good thing. He’d taken extra measures to modify the phone records the day John had called him, just in case.

They’d stopped at John’s door, and Mark knocked on the hard metal. “Visitor for John Doe,” he called in a bored tone before just opening the door.

John was carefully tearing a section of soft newspaper apart on his bed, not even bothering to look up.

“Hey, John,” Bruce said, doing his best to look concerned. It was difficult; seeing him made him feel lighter, like time was nothing, like there was something decent in the place that felt like permanent dusk had settled over it.

John perked up like a prairie dog, his face glowing like a one-hundred-watt bulb. “Bruce!” He exclaimed, tossing the paper aside. “Come in, come in!”

Mark frowned. “You know the rules, John, he can’t visit you in here – come on, hands behind your back.”

“Oh, come on, Mark, it’s just Bruce Wayne. It’s not like he’s going to bust me out,” he teased with a charming smile. “It’d be bad for his delicate image… Besides, I didn’t think I was allowed to see anyone but good ol’ Reginald for a week.”

Mark crossed his arms, patches of red blossoming on his cheeks. “Listen, you – you’re still in trouble for escaping, Bat’ or no Bat’. It ain’t punishment if I don’t do procedure.”

“But Maaark, I haven’t seen him in over a week, and I couldn’t tell him about Dr. Crane,” John pouted. “Some of that stuff is private… Besides, the power’s been going in and out all day – he’ll be safer in here with me than outside with everyone else prowling around,” John said in his sincerest voice.

(The power kept going out? It was the first Bruce heard of it…)

Mark narrowed his eyes, and seemed to be chewing on his tongue. “When I get back from my round,” he said slowly, staring at John with hard eyes, “I better see you sitting right where I left you. I don’t want to find a hair out of place on Wayne.” He shot his glare to Bruce, who tried his best to look innocently confused. “That goes for him, too, Moneybags, or I’ll be singing like a fucking canary.” He prodded his finger into his chest. “Not. One. Hair.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Bruce said with an honest, genuine smile. “I’m just here to visit my friend.”

“Yeah, well the last guy I trusted alone with our patients is being charged with criminal abuse,” Mark scoffed, “I’m only taking a chance because you’ve coming for so long.” He turned to leave, pausing to point between them threateningly. “Not one hair,” he reminded them.

“Not a one!” John said with a thumbs up and the most innocent, bright-eyed expression he could manage.

Then, of course, the orderly shut the door behind them, and Bruce heard the audible click of the lock, and there were barely two footsteps before John practically leaped up to wrap his arms around him.

It was actually a relief. Bruce didn’t care about the camera pointed at them – it wasn’t unusual to hug someone who had effectively been missing for almost three days. He refrained from being too affectionate, despite his instinct wanting to do nothing else but hold him there and kiss anything within reach.

He didn’t like admitting that his house felt empty, nor that he had been far lonelier than he had expected, nor that the feel of John pressed against him in any context made him want to hear him make noise. He didn’t know if he wanted comforting words or laughs or appreciative groans and sighs. Maybe all of it, in a rush of a sentence or two and brush of hands against sensitive areas.

Hell, he’d even take a terrible joke.

But for now, Bruce just enjoyed the warmth that seemed to spread in his veins, and hoped he would be able to remember that feeling for as long as he needed it.

“I missed you,” John mumbled against his shirt.

“I missed you, too,” Bruce whispered back, careful to keep his lip movements to a minimum in case they were being watched.

John snickered a little and pulled away, letting his hands slide over Bruce’s back and under his arms, heating his ribs. Bruce almost shuddered at the intimate touch, knowing full well what those warm hands on his bare back felt like. “They can’t hear us, you know,” he said, a teasing grin growing on his lips. “You can say some things aloud.”

“I can’t take chances.”

“Gosh, you’re paranoid… Fine. Have a seat, then, Brucie – what’s mine is yours!” John beamed, resuming his position on the squealing spring mattress. (Bruce was never going to be used to the sound of it. He was hoping to replace the whole facilities’ – it hadn’t been done in years.) “I’d tell you all about my little, ah, escapade, but I know you’re not here for that.”

Bruce dragged the wooden chair out of the corner to sit across from him. He didn’t like the implication that sitting on the bed brought – nor the temptation it sprung to mind.

(God, it’d only been two days and Bruce was already thinking about how loud that mattress could be under the right conditions. Maybe it was his brain’s desperate way to try and cope with reality.)

“What happened when you got back?” Bruce asked, thinking of the stolen Honda and the security guard’s I.D. he’d left behind for someone else to find.

“Well, Jerry and Honey don’t know I borrowed their stuff, so they still feel secure around me,” John said with a knowing smile, counting off on his fingers, “and one of the orderlies escorting me to Dr. Leland’s office asked me about the graveyard – he wanted to know what the Court thing was in the mausoleum – but that’s about it. I managed to convince them to let me have the newspapers from the staff room.”

Bruce cast a look at the section of newspaper John had been trying to tear, spying an old picture of himself. “Batman Returns? Hmm, not the most imaginative title…”

“At least the news finally got interesting again,” John said fondly, pulling several other pieces from under the pillow, “Here, have a look! I’d be crazy not to keep them! Or, uh, crazier…”

Bruce scanned the folded articles. John had been careful to make them as minimally torn as possible.

Train Bombing Derailed by Batman!

Batman Returns – Battles Psycho-Terrorist at Sky Rail

Diner Terrorist Brought Down by Dark Knight

Mad Doctor Thwarted by Batman…& Co’?!

Who is “Oracle”? – the Anonymous Third Party of the Terrorist’s Take-Down

Joker Returned to Arkham by Batman

Crane Captured – GCPD Thanks Batman and Associates

“Doctor of Fear” Deemed Insane Post-Batman Battle

Batman and Joker – the Team-Up that Saved Gotham?!

“You’re keeping all of these?” Bruce asked, smirking playfully. He wasn’t surprised the ‘Batman and Joker’ article had been the most carefully done out of the pile, being the entire front page of a tabloid. He was surprised at the picture on the front – someone had managed to get a photo of the two of them with the ambulance when they had been talking to Gordon, conveniently cropping out the Commissioner and placing text blocks over where he would have been. It was quite a good picture of John; Bruce made a mental note to find the picture online to keep, and another note to himself about looking into who had the telescopic camera lens. There was no way the police would have let a reporter beyond the tape on a crime scene like that, and even a paper like Gotham Moonrise wasn’t about to get that close to Batman. He would have been impressed if he hadn’t been deeply concerned about what else they might have seen.

(He reminded himself that the Batmobile’s windows were tinted for the very purpose of keeping out prying eyes and cameras. There was no way anyone could have known what had happened in there.)

Thankfully the only other ‘new’ pictures were all of a partially obscured Oracle and Joker, sitting and standing around the open end of the ambulance, talking to Commissioner Gordon and who Bruce guessed to be Officer Montoya. Bruce had seen these same sort of shots several times already for the past few days, along with John’s Arkham photo, the old picture of Joker with a Jokerrang, and what was now an infamous shot of a very distressed looking Jonathan Crane being carried away into an ambulance, his ‘Scarecrow’ hood just snatched off by an officer.

“What are the talking heads saying about us, anyway?” John asked, propping his elbows on his spread knees. “I don’t have television privileges yet.”

Bruce raised a brow at that, but answered anyway. “The usual, mostly. No one knows where you went for three days, everyone’s surprised to see Batman again, Dr. Crane’s gang are trying to make plea deals…”

“Are they calling Crane crazy yet?” John asked, the light in his acidic eyes probing and dangerous.

“Yes,” Bruce answered with a heavy sigh. “It seems his overdose of Fear Toxin has caused some permanent damage; the doctors at Gotham Central are saying he hasn’t stopped hallucinating, even with antipsychotics on top of the antitoxin. So until the evidence that he planned the attack on the diner and sky rail are made public, everyone’s saying he’s a psychopath.”

John was smiling, and Bruce tried not to find himself drawn to it. “Permanent damage, huh?” He perched his chin in his palms, eyes glinting like precious polished stones. “Can you say that again, but in a lower voice? I want to experience this wonderful schadenfreude with your dulcet tones.”

“No.”

“Can you say no lower, then? I love that intimidating voice you do,” he purred, not losing the spark in his gaze as he shifted to resting his head in only one hand.

“John, don’t start.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t stop if we do?” His free hand drummed his knee, one finger after another, all bony whites that Bruce knew the feel of. (It was not the place or time to think about that. Bruce pushed the thought aside.) “You shouldn’t feel guilty, Bruce. It’s not evil to enjoy a monster getting what he deserved. Besides, he did it to himself! His hubris is nothing to feel bad about!”

Bruce swallowed. He couldn’t allow that feeling.

“Then again, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t brood over it a little,” John added.

The lights flickered. Bruce cast a look up at the ceiling light. It hadn’t blown, and it wasn’t making any odd, concerning noises.

“They’ve been going in and out all day,” John said, not bothering to look up. “I think they plan them. They’ll flicker like that every fifteen seconds, and then after four flickers, the power will go out for seven minutes.” The light flickered again. “I think they’re trying to blame the electrical system for the camera debacle.”

“They’d have a hard time doing that. I looked at the inspection reports myself.”

John tittered. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” he muttered, “We can play the hardcore version of ‘seven minutes in heaven.’”

“John,” Bruce grunted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “no. Absolutely not.”

John cackled to himself, sounding far more genuinely amused than anything. “I was kidding, Bruce! Gosh, give a guy some credit – I know you’re not into public exposure!”

Bruce felt his face heat uncomfortably, and then the lights flickered twice and went off. He shot a look at the camera posed above the door – the power was definitely out.

“Oh, while I have the chance…” As quick as a whip, John sprung off the bed and rummaged around in the middle drawer of his dresser. Bruce watched unabashedly, even as his conscience reminded him that this was not the time or place to be eying him up.

And just like that, John whirled around with his arm outstretched, a postcard in his hand. “I found this by the door Thursday morning!” Bruce took the card; it was a vintage design of a black cat with a suitcase and the phrase ‘I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way’. “I think it’d be safer if you kept it, though,” John explained, resuming his seat but with his legs bouncing slightly over the edge of the bed. “I only have so many hiding places in here.”

Bruce flipped it over and read:

John -

Thanks for the wake-up call. I don’t think anyone else will benefit from having a gun pointed at their face in the same way I have.

Please tell Bruce I’m sorry, and that I appreciated his attempt to help.

J.L.

P.S. I’ll drop you a line when you get out. Hopefully by then I can net you free tickets to whatever I’m doing. Just don’t expect Shakespeare.

The address section had John’s name and room number above a jack-o-lantern drawn in pen.

“I heard one of the doctors saying she’d called on Thursday to resign,” John said. “Apparently she didn’t even show up on Wednesday! I bet she snuck in late.”

Bruce tucked the card into his pocket, knowing he was going to put it right above the jack-o-lantern mask in the new case he’d brought down to the cave; it was next to Crane’s, where the little plastic scarecrow from his office sat below an empty spot waiting for his burlap mask. “Still have your ear to the ground, huh?” Bruce smiled.

“You need every advantage you can get in this place,” John answered with a shrug and shrunken smile. “I had to tell Dr. Leland your other half broke me out, and now all the security guards think you’re some kind of ninja.”

“I did take some pointers from them,” Bruce smirked.

John cast a look down at the bandage on the back of Bruce’s hand. “Not enough, apparently. You don’t hear of many ninjas who cut themselves.”

“You left one of your throwing cards in the car. It was the Two of Hearts, ironically enough,” Bruce explained, wondering if the twisted metaphor of being cut by that card’s literal razor edge was worth considering.

John reached out to caress the back of his hand, all playful and affectionate. “Sorry, Brucie. How can I make it up to you?”

Bruce pushed aside the desire to kiss him, or hold him, or do anything at all that would comfort them both in their old, dark homes.  

Instead, he asked what had been laying at the back of his mind for two days. “Have you heard anything about Crane coming here?”

“I have, as a matter of fact,” John said with a grin that widened and sharpened by the moment. “It’s just a rumor, but they say he’ll be isolated in Art’s room until he gets moved to a ‘safer’ institution. Now isn’t that just a co-inky-dink? Our dastardly doctor being locked up with his test subjects, in the room of a man he’d murdered…?”

Bruce was terribly reminded of when he had stayed at Arkham. He could see strings of a path laid out already, if that rumor was true, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Crane was found dead within a day of his admittance. He trusted John – he loved him – but John was clever enough not to get himself caught with the knife in his hand. Like the incident with Zsaz, he’d get someone else to make the mess, and knowing the extent to what Jonathan Crane had done to his patients, Bruce almost wouldn’t blame him for watching from the sidelines.

“Don’t look so paranoid, Bruce,” John said with a lesser grin, taking Bruce’s hand in both of his, “It’s just a rumor. We’re safe in here, all nice and bolted in. Besides, Art’s old room has been occupied for two weeks. And even if Crane was here, didn’t I tell you before that I respect you?” His fingers smoothed over skin, the light in his eyes softening. “That I love you?”

Bruce only stared back at the little imperfections in the slivers of John’s acid greens, anger and familiarity and warmth all mingling together in his stomach. He’d tricked him, testing to see if he could put Bruce on edge and make him wonder at what-ifs, reminding him just what John was capable of. ‘Joker’ seemed so appropriate a name for him just then that Bruce felt it on his tongue.

“We’re two threads in the same stitch, Bruce,” John muttered adoringly, leaning in close, “I’m not about to break that when I still want to see what shape it makes.”

It was like a chemical reaction, with the bubbling heat in him combusting, and Bruce gave in and kissed him, the nerves in his mouth lighting up on contact. He reminded himself that they had mere moments before the power returned and that this might be the last time he got to touch John for months.

It was eerily quiet in Arkham, and Bruce felt like he could hear every minute noise outside in-between memorizing the sound of John’s breaths and the way their lips sounded as they moved together. Footsteps, murmurs, a cart wheeling down the hall – all there, all ordinary background noise that drove home the reality of where they were.

He reminded himself that they were not back at square one, that the cycle of ins and outs of the asylum was not shaped like Ouroboros, that they had started a new line for their paths to go off to, and that they were not alone and soon they never would be.

And just as quickly as it had begun, it ended, just like the time they had together always seemed to. Bruce pulled away, his internal timer almost at zero, and John sat back with the same glassy-eyed look from Bruce’s bedroom, when he told Bruce he loved him.

“Get out soon,” Bruce muttered to him, every part of his body aching to just sign the papers to release him into his custody. “Please, get out soon.”

John just laughed like it was a joke. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

*~*~*~*~*

Notes: This is the first multi-chapter story I’ve ever finished in my life. I feel so satisfied and yet…a little empty, too. I’ve spent so much time working on this story – (I literally marathoned all of Gotham while writing the first six chapters, starting in March of this year) – that there’s a now a “well what do I do now” lingering around, even with other projects staring at me in the face. I know that feeling will go. Inspiration has thankfully struck me for those other projects, and new ideas will no doubt shake my shoulder and go “dude have you seen this shit your imagining, you gotta make this.” I already have some I know you guys will like, even though the question of when I’ll write them, let alone post them, is one I can’t answer.

To all those thinking that they’ll never finish their own work:  Yes you can. Ask yourself what’s stopping you from writing that section that you struggle with, and change it. Don’t erase a scene if you’re unhappy with it; start fresh and keep it separated from its predecessor until you work out the kinks. Remind yourself that your audience, be they loud or quiet, are waiting for you. And most importantly, let your spite fuel you in small doses and your love and intrigue fuel you in large ones.

And so, I leave this story here, with a full heart and a more optimistic outlook on the future. Come what may of TellTale – Batman Season 3 or no – we’ll always have the time we spent together here, and I wouldn’t trade that for all the “Kiss John” opportunities in the world.