#they said they matched the colour from the scene he took his mask off but like the lighting....

[moongumi]

wtf is ghost (simon riley) blonde or brunette to you guys??????

[mavratt]

warning! Big ass 3000 word essay on why the scene of ink MK fighting real MK is so important and how it was foreshadowed very well!!!

This was for film homework (that's why I explain things in detail as the teacher hasn't watched lmk) and was written very sleep deprived and get's repetitive at times, sorry for anything written wrongly too. don't be scared to tell me if I missed anything or wrote something wrong!

This his frame is when the main character, MK, is confronted by the secondary villain of season 4, The Scroll Curse (I will just call it Ink MK). In lead up to this shot they had been fighting while Ink MK talked to MK about who he is and why he isn't worthy, while also taking the form of MK but instead of being human, Ink MK took the form of a monkey (They look nearly identical in this series, the monkey just has ears and a tail (see bottom of post for images). In this shot Ink MK had shapeshifted into a large form that combined elements of all of the former villains that MK has faced over the last 3 seasons, but he has made his head the form of MK's mentor, Sun Wukong (yes, the one from Journey to the West, the show is a spin off series to the novel made by lego). The quote Ink MK says here is "We're just like Wukong. A fraud! A trickster! Destructive! Why would our legacy be any different? Actually! No, no. The chaos and destruction that we'll bring upon the world will make Wukong's past look like nothing." While he says this, his face morphs back into MK's (You can tell from the lack of the circlet and his signature hair) to berate him. As MK is holding back Ink MK's force he starts to glow a golden light and flashes of fur start appearing on his skin. This is the beginning of MK realising that he isn't human, and instead a monkey demon, or as Ink MK puts it "The Harbinger of Chaos".

But all of this doesn't just happen randomly in season 4, all three prior seasons, especially season 3, gave us foreshadowing for this scene. I'll start from season 1.

In the pilot episode "A Hero is Born" We see how MK was incredibly interested in The Monkey King, as he was listening to a story that Tang (“The smart one”) was telling, and it was implied that MK already knew that story anyways. But directly after the “opening monologue” was said MK talks about how cool Monkey King was, saying “Monkey King is so cool, he’s so strong, and handsome.”  And as he says that he’s handsome he gets the notorious “Monkey Mask” which is a marking on the face that wraps around the eyes and along the nose. The thing is, this is clearly not Wukong’s markings as they are too dark in colour, and for the medium for animation where there are set reference sheets for every character with the exact colours to use, it is a weird detail to not just colour pick the colour of Wukong’s mask. But later on in season 4, when MK’s monkey form is revealed, he is shown to have a much darker mask than Wukong’s, almost an exact match to the one in the pilot.

In the same pilot episode, we got to see how MK got possession of The Monkey King's staff. It is shown that Sun Wukong had been following and watching MK as he lived his life, though it was not explained why he had done so. It is implied to the audience that Wukong was scoping out someone he wanted to be his successor and was making sure that he was the right choice. However, if Wukong could sense that MK had some hidden power that he had not unlocked yet it would explain why he had just been watching a random young adult for the last however long. And while it is possible Wukong was following just because he thought he would be a good successor, that wouldn’t explain why MK was able to hold the staff at all. It is stated in Journey to the West that the staff is incredibly heavy and that only someone with immense power would be able to hold it, but MK just waltzed up and plucked it off the ground with ease. It is possible that when Wukong pushed/pecked MK into danger that he transferred him the power, but that is highly unlikely as it appears that later in the episode that MK unlocks most of his “Monkey King” powers while fighting the Demon Bull King, not when he picked up the staff. This leads to the question as to why MK was able to pick up the staff without the powers of the Monkey King. The obvious answer to the question is that he’s the “chosen one” and picking up the staff is sort of a “rite of passage” for him. But in later seasons many characters, including MK himself, ask the question as to “why Sun Wukong chose him to be his successor” which proves that he couldn’t have just been the “chosen one”.

This leads me onto my next point about how Wukong himself doesn’t even seem to know why MK can lift the staff. In the pilot Wukong seems surprised that MK was able to lift his staff to protect himself when he pushed him into danger. While watching the episode again, it looked more like Wukong just wanted to see what would happen if he dropped MK in front of the newly released Demon Bull King, like he was seeing how much strength he had left after his imprisonment. At points throughout season 1 Wukong gives MK advice and training on how to use his monkey powers, but he approaches it as though he is seeing if it would work on him rather than teaching MK how to use the Monkey King powers. I personally believe that Wukong actually did give MK some of his powers as in episode two Wukong takes away Mk’s invulnerability and later in episode 9 of season 1 Macaque steals MK’s Monkey King powers.

Speaking of Macaque stealing MK’s Monkey King powers, that scene also proves that MK had his own powers from the beginning. While in a fight with Macaque, the other monkey steals the Monkey King powers from MK and presses him against a wall with the staff. Without the powers MK can’t move the staff to get away from Macaque and Wukong has to come and rescue MK. While Wukong defends MK from Macaque’s oncoming blows he gives him a bit of a motivational speech and MK sparks a couple of times with golden light before suddenly being able to hold the staff again and fighting Macaque with it. Activating these powers seemed to be very painful for MK as we see him cry as he desperately tries to remove the staff from himself. The reason we know that these are his own powers kicking in again is because we know that Macaque stole MK’s Monkey King powers as we see him absorb the physical form of them and he was using the shapeshifting powers of the Monkey King, a power that he did not originally have, against Wukong during their fight. This leads on to the fact that Macaque was even able to keep up with Wukong during the fight, which he was obviously not able to do up to this point as Wukong seems genuinely surprised by how hard Macaque was hitting him. All of this proves that Macaque stole the Monkey King powers from MK during episode 9 of season 1 and didn’t give them back as we also see him use shapeshifting in the season 3 special “Embrace your Destiny” when he has to fight Wukong again. With us knowing that Macaque kept at least some of the Monkey King’s powers we know that MK had to be drawing on a different sauce of power for the rest of the series.

In season 3, the main villain, The Lady Bone Demon, seems very interested in getting MK rather than Wukong or Mei. The Lady Bone Demon (LBD) takes control of Macaque and sends him to fetch MK as he travels around the world to find a weapon strong enough to fight her. In episode 4 of season 3 Macaque kidnaps MK, Mei and Sandy by making a duplicate of their van and driving them the wrong way back to LBD. After they figure out that they were taken they have a fight in the desert where Macaque announces that LBD only wants MK and not the other two, Macaque is even willing to kill Mei and Sandy to force MK to come with him. This raises the question as to why LBD only wants MK and not the others, others who have been proven to be incredibly powerful, Mei even has the Samadhi Fire inside of her without her knowledge. So if LBD can sense the hidden powers of Mei and MK but still chooses MK over Mei it proves that MK must have a power level greater than even the Samadhi Fire. This could also be because she could sense “Destiny” and knew that somehow MK was a part of it hers. MK and her destinies were intertwined as MK would ultimately defeat her. After he defeats her she sends him a vision of how trying to pursue what you want only leads to pain. (Very important quote)

LBD also talked to MK in season 2 when she confronted him in the Spider Queen’s lair. She forced him to listen to her speak while she held him back with her magic. In this scene she berated him, talking about how weak he was and saying that both of them knew that Monkey King had chosen the wrong successor for his power. MK had been believing that Wukong might have chosen the wrong successor since season 2 episode 3, “Dumpling Destruction” when Wukong seemed to be avoiding speaking to him while off on his own adventure. We as an audience know that Wukong was actually just struggling to beat some traps set by the Celestial Realm to get the scroll that would tell him how to beat LBD, but MK thought that Monkey King was reconsidering his choice of successor. This would lead to a constant voice in the back of his head that would whisper that he wasn’t worthy for the Monkey King’s power, or ask why him, and not someone better?

And as stated earlier, Wukong actually doesn’t know why he “chose” MK to be his successor. He kind of just watched MK for a while and then decided to mentor him, this also backs up my earlier statement about Wukong just throwing him into danger and seeing what would happen. In the pilot when MK asks if Wukong’s brain is ok and if he is thinking straight about choosing him as his successor, Wukong says “Listen, kid. you fought demons, and you didn’t die. And you made it here (to Monkey King’s hideout).” Which shows that he didn’t plan for that to happen and must have decided to make MK his successor after picking up the staff. He also mentions that “Not just anyone can lift my staff” Which proves my theory from earlier that Wukong hadn’t given MK and special Monkey King powers before dropping him into danger which also proves my idea of MK drawing on some other source of power when he picked up the staff.

With the reveal that MK is a monkey in this scene is brought out by Ink MK making him question everything he knew. Ink MK asked MK why he thought Monkey King had chosen him and while we haven’t got an official answer to this question yet, we can use other information to determine why Wukong even took an interest in MK before he picked up his staff. We are not shown in any episode how long Wukong had been watching MK before dropping him into the danger, but we know that it was more than just after he had gotten the staff as there is a shot in the pilot that shows Wukong shapeshifted into a bug and watched MK sleep (I know, I know, weird). This shows that Wukong had at the very least been watching MK for one day before the staff incident. Many theorise that Wukong had been drawn to the pre-existing Monkey Powers that MK had, though he probably was not able to properly tell what they were or maybe he wasn’t able to tell MK had powers at all and was just drawn in by the vibes/unknown forces.

Ink MK also shoots down the idea that MK is using Monkey King's powers in season 4 episode 7. When MK states that "I'm just a noodle delivery guy, with the powers of the Monkey King. No biggie." Ink MK takes this as a time to strike and says "Oh! You mean these powers?" Before hitting MK in the stomach and sending him flying. This heavily implies that Ink MK isn't using the Monkey King powers and since Ink MK seems to be a perfect reflection of MK, these must be the powers that MK is using for most of the series after his Monkey King ones were taken by Macaque in season 1.

Ink MK also asks who MK thought he was, and why he was so powerful, saying “Seriously!? You still think we’re just some noodle delivery guy? You can’t remember where you came from. And we got all this power, and you never once thought, WHY US?!” It is implied that Ink MK is a reflection of the actual MK that was made by the Scroll Curse to question MK about everything and make him address things that he had been pushing down/avoiding thinking about (It might be that it does this with everyone, but from what we’ve seen of the scroll and it’s existence, this might be specifically in there just for MK). We know that MK tends to avoid thinking about harsh topics as much as possible as in the season 3 special, “Embrace your Destiny” While LBD had MK in the vision he asks her “You still think that the universe really wants anything from any of us?” she replies “Don’t you?” and MK brushes it off while rubbing the back of his head nervously “I try not to think too hard” And this is only one of the examples of MK pushing down his own thoughts that he doesn’t want to deal with to try and forget them. This makes Ink MK such a good narrative foil for MK as it makes him think about everything he doesn’t, it tries to push MK to his limits and unleash what he thinks is “The Harbinger of Chaos” upon the world. This is supported by Ink MK saying “What are we!? What is our purpose!?” (Said directly after the last quote with him). Ink MK knows what MK is, he’s the MK that has accepted this part of himself and is trying to force MK to admit to himself that he isn’t just some random guy that fell into luck. But MK says afterwards “Of course I thought about it! I mean… maybe. I was gonna thought about it. I just… I just wanna be me. To be MK.” Ink MK follows this up with “Yeah, well, we all know where that leads. Don’t we?” at this LBD’s words from the vision come back to MK (“To pain”) and he thinks about it for a second before deciding to shove it down again and continue fighting Ink MK.

Ink MK tells MK all the things that he doesn’t want to hear, he tells him that everything was his fault (guilt he had been grappling with since season 2 when he found out he unknowingly released LBD into the world. It had only gotten worse as the seasons continued and he kept realising that “Everything was his fault”) and how he could never fix the damage he had done. He told MK all the things that he knew he had done but was trying to ignore, that he had released the Demon Bull King, that he helped the Spider Queen take over the city and that he had given the Lady Bone Demon the opportunity to wreak havoc on the world. And what does MK do with all of this shoved in his face? He deflects with humour, stating “*comedic release of air* This is gonna haunt my nightmares forever.” AND THAT IS WHEN THE SCREENSHOT I CHOSE HAPPENS, directly after MK tried to deflect and shove down all of the bad thoughts. THAT is when Ink MK chooses to take the form of Wukong, a person in MK’s life that he has looked up to since childhood (MK is absolutely obsessed with Monkey King from the moment we see him in the pilot). THAT is when he told MK that he was just like Wukong, usually, this would be a compliment but MK had been slowly starting to doubt that Wukong is a good person for nearly the entirety of seasons 3 and 4, he had seen the problems he had caused and the damage he had done to others. And while at the beginning of the series, MK knew of all of Wukong’s past misdeeds he had decided to look past them because they were all practically bedtime stories he had been told, and his hero worship of Wukong only let him ignore them for longer. But as time went on and as MK met/saw more and more people that Wukong had hurt his (for lack of a better phrase) “Rose tinted glasses” seemed to shatter more and more until in the season 4 finale when he would confront Wukong about them. But back to the scene, with MK knowing that Wukong was probably not the best person but still super attached to him because of his past hero worship, being told by Ink MK that “We are just like Wukong” but then it being followed up with Ink MK telling him that he would be more destructive and more chaotic than Wukong was would force MK to re-evaluate everything he had been thinking for the last 3 seasons. THIS is what makes MK start glitching out, THIS is what makes MK realise fully that he is not just some noodle delivery guy who was just very lucky, THIS proves that MK was made for this role and that LBD was right when she said “You can’t escape destiny”. Ink MK proves that MK was “Some monkey demon thing, destined to bring chaos upon the world.” By using MK’s worst fears against him, his self-doubt, his guilt and his knowledge that even those you admire can be wrong, Ink MK brings out the “Worst side” of MK and proves that MK’s fears were true, that he caused everything and that if he had never existed, the world would never have gone through so much pain and turmoil. He proves to MK that he, himself is the problem.

This also affects what happens later on in season 4 with the last thing Ink MK says to him being “Then prove us wrong.” (about being a destructive force destined to bring chaos to the world) and MK’s first words after fully accepting and using his Monkey Powers being “well alright then.” Many believe that this is MK’s response to Ink MK’s proposition, and I do too.

(Images mentioned)

I woke up and wrote a 1048 word essay on why Mk probably won’t go monkey mode on his family in season 5 to prove a point to myself.

If that isn’t a neurodivergent diagnosis, idk what is.

[silverbyeol]

When We Collide - Tom Holland

Summary: A close encounter with death, brings on a new relationship (This summary sucks, but I don’t want to give anything away) 

Author’s Note: Not sure if this classifies as angst, but the ending is kind of sad... but lots of fluff all throughout! 

Word Count: 3.6K

“That’s a wrap for today everyone, have a good day and I’ll see you all on Friday,” the male producer said, there was some light mumbling throughout the cast and everyone disbursed soon after.

“Hey, Tom!” yelled a male voice, stopping the brunette in his tracks, “Would you like to hang out with us? We’re going to grab some drinks at a pub?” Tom looked over at the owner of the voice, one of his co-stars.

“I would, but I already have plans for today. Definitely next time,” the male replied with a smile. Truth be told, Tom didn’t really have any important plans. They were shooting a movie in London and all Tom wanted to do was walk around and enjoy the feeling of being home for a while.

The male walked into his trailer and changed out of the outfit he wore on set and into something more comfortable, jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and, before leaving the set, put on a black cap and dark shades, to mask his identity. It was nice to get away from fame and responsibilities for a while and just lead a somewhat normal life.

The streets of London were always busy with people walking about, minding their business, and tourists snapping pictures of every nook and cranny. The weather was gloomy today and there was really no reason to wear shades outside. He probably looked crazy, but Tom went unrecognized as he made his way towards his favourite cafe- ready to enjoy some afternoon tea and maybe even read a book. The cafe was located in a part of London that was rarely crowded. The brunette turned a corner, and there it was; the cafe was standing just across the street. He stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the signal to turn green.

On the other side of the street stood a young female. She had a pair of over-ear headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. The male looked her over, admiring how cute she was. She had a black and white striped top on, paired with black cargo jeans, and a black Nike duffle bag across her chest. She looked as if she was coming back from the fitness center. The light turned green for them to cross and the female looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars. She quickly looked back at her phone, missing the vehicle that was speeding down the road.

Everything moved so fast. She was about to get hit and without thinking, the male took off running towards her, ready to push her out of the way. Everything started moving in slow motion and for a split second, he saw her eyes widen with fear as she looked up from her phone and noticed the situation unfolding. Tom quickly grabbed the girl's waist, lunging the two onto the ground, right in front of the coffee shop.

‘This definitely hurts less at the studio…’ he thought and fluttered open his eyes, meeting fearful e/c ones.

“Are you okay?” the female asked as she lay on top of Tom.

“I’m fine. No big deal,” he grunted out. It was actually a big deal… His head and back hurt from the fall and his hands were scraped from sliding on the concrete. “Are you okay?” he in turn asked her as he scanned her face for any injuries.

“I’m fine… I- ermm…” she stuttered and quickly got off the males body, sitting down on the ground next to him, “Thank you- I don’t- Everything just happened so fast…” she said with a shaky voice as if the events finally hit her. The car was long gone and there were no other people walking by as the incident occured.

“What a bloody arsehole, he shouldn’t have been going so fast,” Tom said and frowned. The female's things were all over the ground and right in the middle of them were his sunglasses. His eyes met with the girls, yet she seemed to not recognize that he was famous, “Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital?” he questioned, concerned about her well-being.

“I’m alright. Thank you… I’m not sure how I could ever repay you for saving my life… you even got hurt,” she said as she studied his scraped hands.

“There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” she answered and the couple stood up from the ground.

“I’m Tom. Pleasure.” he replied, looking into her eyes for any sign of recognition, but nothing.

“Can I at least buy you a cuppa or coffee?” she asked and motioned towards the shop. Tom warmly smiled at her.

“Sure.” The two grabbed their things and collected themselves before going into the shop.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you two?” asked the barista. Tom and the female awkwardly approached the counter.

“I’ll have a flat white, please,” the female by his side said.

“Two of those,” Tom added. Y/n started digging in her bag, most likely looking for her wallet.

“10 pounds.” the barista said and Tom swiftly handed the barista the orange/brown coloured bill.

“Wait… what are you-” Y/n said in confusion.

“Let’s go sit down,” Tom interrupted and led the two towards an empty table.

“You’re way too kind…” Y/n said when the pair sat down. Tom chuckled.

“Making you pay wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” the female smiled at him and the barista came over to the table, setting down two small cups.

“Thank you.” they both said and Y/n picked up the cup and took a small sip, making Tom stare. Being a celebrity, he never had meaningful conversations with strangers. Everyone either wanted a photo or autograph, so it was hard for the male to make connections with regular people.

“What's up with the shades?” she asked, hoping to see more of the strangers' faces.

“Oh....” Tom mumbled and took off his glasses and cap. There was no one in the shop besides the pair, it was fangirl free, “It’s a habit.”

“Makes you look kind of dodgy...”

“Does it…?” he mumbled more to himself than the girl. She looked more calm than before as if the incident was long forgotten. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. Y/n took a second to examine the male. He had brown hair and a pair of matching brown eyes. His baby face made him look like a puppy. He was cute. Her eyes traveled to his arms, they were slightly veiny, he was most likely fit and worked out a lot. Her eyes looked at his hands that were red and had scratches from the fall.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tom said, wanting to keep the mood light.

“Me? I’m honestly not that interesting…” she said and looked down at her lap, “I’m a ballet dancer, I don’t really have time for much else…” she continued, picking up Tom’s interest.

“You dance? I took ballet classes when I was a child. I was even in the Billy Elliot musical-” Tom said and suddenly felt nervous. (Y/n) didn’t seem to know who he was. It was nice to be normal and treated like a regular human, not a famous actor, “when I was in secondary school,” he added.

(Y/n) looked up with interest, “I didn’t realize you were done with school… you look so young,”

“I’m actually 24,” Tom said. The female looked at him with wide eyes.

“You look so young…” she repeated and Tom took another sip of his coffee, “Did the ballet thing work out for you or are you pursuing different things?” This was Tom’s chance to tell the female that he was a famous actor.

“No, I decided to do other things,” he started. He decided that he liked the feeling of being unknown, “I work on movie sets… bunch of random things, honestly.”

“That’s cool. Do you get to meet a lot of celebrities?”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

The two sat in the coffee shop until the sky turned dark, talking about anything and everything. The longer the two talked, the more Tom started to fancy the female. Despite what she thought, she was interesting and very kind. He never met someone like her, and he definitely wanted to keep getting to know her.

“It’s almost 9…” she said with a tired sigh, “I should get going. I have rehearsals in the morning.”

“I should get going too…” Tom said, slightly disappointed…

“Despite the circumstances, it was so nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for saving me.” she said and started getting up. He didn’t want their conversation to end, if she let him, Tom wanted to keep in touch with the female.

“Wait!” he called out and she looked at him, sitting back down, “Do you mind if I get your number? I would love to take you out on a date, or just hang out,” there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Ummm… yeah- of course…” (Y/n) felt her cheeks get warm. It’s been a while since someone asked her for her number or even asked her out on a date. Tom gave her his phone and she typed her number in.

“Have a goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Have a goodnight, Tom.”

Tom could not concentrate on set. All he could think about was the girl with the e/c coloured eyes. After the encounter, Tom texted the female that night to make sure she made it home safe. Ever since, they’ve been sending messages back and forth constantly. He wanted to take the girl out on a proper date, but that was slightly difficult. Public spaces meant lots of potential fangirls and the male was not ready to reveal his status yet.

“Holland!” yelled a strict male voice making Tom come out his daydream.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter with you?” the director asked, annoyed that they had to reshoot the same scene for the fifth time.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot on my mind.” he replied, making the director sigh in defeat.

“Alright. Why don’t you take the week off, yeah?”

“Oh, okay.” he replied, his thoughts going back to Y/n.

“And make sure you come back to Earth by then!” the male yelled and stormed off, annoyed about having to make a new shooting schedule for the week. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone:

Tom: Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Tom: Totally fine if you don’t

Tom: Don’t want to pressure you

To say that the male felt stupid was an understatment. Why was he so nervous? He barely knew this girl for a week and she made him feel like a teenager who was helplessly chasing their crush around. He looked at the screen, three little dots appeared and a message suddenly popped up:

Y/n: I would like that

Tom: Great! I’ll pick you up at 6! Text me your postal address.

Tom sat on the sofa in Y/n’s flat as they watched Citizen Kane on her small telly. The female was laid down, her legs laying on top of his as she balanced a big bowl of popcorn on her belly, occasionally munching on the snack. Tom looked away from the noir film, his attention purely on his girlfriend. The pair have been dating for nearly half a year and Y/n was still unaware that her boyfriend was an A list celebrity. Of course, Tom wanted to tell her, but they’ve already gotten so far into their relationship that he was scared of how she might react to the news.

“You know… I’ve never been to your flat,” the female said and stuffed some popcorn into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the telly.

“Is that something you would like to do?” Tom questioned.

“I mean… We always spend time here. Why haven’t you invited me over? Are you hiding a secret family from me?” her eyes met his and he saw the playful gleam behind her orbs.

“You caught me. My wife and kids wouldn’t be too happy to find out that I enjoy spending my time more with my mistress than them,” Y/n picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it at him, landing it right in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s what you get, Mr. Holland… or is that even your real name?” she said glaring at him, but a smile was plastered on her lips. Tom grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her belly and placed it down on the floor. He quickly got on top of her, using his forearms as support to hover over her.

“Would you like to come over tomorrow then? I could cook us dinner?” he questioned as he looked all over her face, admiring every little detail.

“That sounds lovely. Your wife and kids won’t mind?” she giggled.

“No. I’ll make sure they’re out by the time you get there,” he said and dipped down to capture her lips.

Tom was nervous about his girlfriend coming over, and not because he had a secret family. Tom did not mind that his girlfriend lived in a flat that only had one small bedroom and a common area, nor was he worried about her being materialistic and only keeping him around for the money. She didn’t have much, but she liked to spoil him with small gifts here and there with whatever money she had left from her paycheck. It was bad enough that he drove around in a Porsche, but he lived in a luxurious two story flat on the outskirts of London. If she were to ask questions, how was he supposed to explain where his wealth came from? What if there were paparazzis situated outside his home? He wanted to tell her about being Spider-man on his own time and this could potentially out him.

“I thought you lived closer to the city…” Y/n said looking out the window, watching as they got further from the center of London.

“I prefer staying out of London… It’s always so crowded and the traffic is horrible.” he replied as he pulled into the carpark. Y/n smiled in anticipation. The building of the flats looked really modern, as if they were built recently. She knew that this place must have been expensive to live in. The couple walked inside the building, his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the lift.

“Mr. Holland.” the doorman greeted, with a kind smile.

“John. Good evening.”

Once inside the lift, Tom swiped his key card and pressed the button for the highest floor. Y/n looked around, slightly feeling out of place. She knew that Tom worked in the film industry, but she didn’t expect him to be loaded. The door to the lift opened and the girl's eyes went wide with shock as she was met with a spacious flat and huge windows that were facing towards the center of London.

“Woah… You said you did what?” the female questioned as she looked out the window.

“I work on movie sets… which reminds me,” he said and came up behind the female, wrapping his arms around her middle, “There is a private screening tonight of the movie I was working on when we first met. It would mean a lot to me, if you came along to watch it.” he said, kissing his girlfriend's cheek.

“Am I allowed to?”

“Of course. You’re my plus one, love…”

The couple finished their dinner before going to see the private screening. Most movies would be shown to the cast and crew before they officially premiered in Hollywood. This showing was meant for the UK team only. This was the moment that Tom would confess who he actually was. His heart was pounding against his chest as he and Y/n sat down in the chairs in the screen room. There were only five others there.

“What’s this movie about?” questioned the female.

“Superheroes.” Tom responded with a bit of a smirk on his face. This was going to be the first time he’s seen the final product, so he wasn’t completely sure when Peter Parker was going to make an appearance. The Marvel logo played and transitioned into a poor quality memorial video of all the Avengers that died during the Thanos battle. The scene continued with two teens as they were giving a morning announcement to their school. Tom looked over at his girlfriend who looked confused, she must not have watched any of the marvel movies. The scene ended and there he was… It was always weird seeing your own face on a big screen.

“I have a plan!” his character started, talking about how he was going to woo MJ in Paris. Tom looked over to his right. Y/n had her mouth wide open as she watched her boyfriend speak in an American accent. She looked at the screen and slowly turned her head to look at her boyfriend as if trying to confirm that it was the same person. Five minutes into the movie and there he was in his Spider-man suit talking at a fundraiser. Y/n grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up, walking out of the screening room, having seen enough.

“Shit…” Tom mumbled and raced after her, “Love, wait!” he yelled, but the female kept walking until she got outside. Not knowing where to go, she stopped in her tracks, “Y/n…”

“You’re Spiderman…” she muttered lowly and Tom almost didn’t catch it.

“I-” he started saying, but she quickly cut him off.

“This is mental. You’re Spiderman and you forgot to mention that your job entails you to actually be the main character in the film?” she said and turned around to look at him. She looked sad, almost disappointed. Tom was at a loss for words.

“You’ve nothing to say?” she tutted and started walking in a random direction, away from the male.

“Babe! Wait!” he yelled and ran up to stand in front of her to block her way, “I was scared okay… Everyone who I ever meet on the street wants a photo or autograph. When I met you, you made me feel normal for once, not like I’m some object that belongs in a museum. I know that keeping this from you was bad and I am truly sorry,” her eyes sparkled in understanding as she listened to the male speak, “I don’t want to lose you.” he ended, his eyes slightly glossy. Y/n sighed and leaned over to give him a kiss. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, fearing that this would be the last time he would be able to feel her lips.

“I understand if you want to break up-”

“Shut up and kiss me, you bloody git.” the female giggled, making Tom smile and lean in for another kiss.

…

“Don’t lie to me ever again.”

“Never.”

It’s been about five years since the couple started dating. Tom was ready to ask Y/n to marry him. He was going to propose on their anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how or where; all he knew was that he was ready to call her his forever. The male walked into their shared bedroom where the future Mrs. Holland was already in, laying under the covers, dozing off. He slipped in and pulled her close to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispered as he kissed her neck, earning a tired reply…

“I love you, too…”

~~~~~

   "He's waking up!"

   "Tom!"

   "Can you hear us?"

   "TOM!" slowly his eyes opened and he met a white ceiling.

   "Where am I?" he groaned and looked over to the side, his mom was there looking at the male in worry.

   "You're in the hospital, Tom. You've been in a coma for six months..." his mother said in a calm voice as tears spilled from her eyes.    

   "Mum? Where's Y/n? I need to see her, is she okay?" Tom questioned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was pounding as he tried to recall the accident.

“Woah… you need to stay in bed, Thomas. Who’s Y/n?” his mother asked, concerned.

“My girlfriend… I was going to propose to her.” Tom let out.

“I’m going to go get a doctor. Please don’t move.” his mother said and left the room.

“What happened?” Tom groaned and he held his head.

“Your director called us after you didn’t show up for the shooting…” spoke up his brother, Harry, who was sitting on a chair, on the opposite side where his mother just stood, “You and some girl got hit by a car just outside a shop in London.”

“Coffee shop?” Tom questioned, his headache starting to ease.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Where’s the girl?” Tom questioned, curious what was happening.

“Just in the other room. They haven't been able to identify her.” Harry finished, concerned about his brother.

“Can you take me to her?”

“You just woke up… No way…” Harry said as he frowned at the older male.

“I need to see her…” Tom pleaded, making his brother sigh. Harry got up from the chair and rolled over a wheelchair that was located on the other side of the room. He helped his brother on it and wheeled him towards the room next door. The pair of brothers stopped just outside a window that looked into a patient's room. The shape of her face, the colour of her hair- everything about her was so familiar. She had lost a little colour on her skin, probably due to being in a coma and light bruises littered her body. He couldn’t see the colour of the girl’s eyes, but he was sure that he recognized her.

   She was the same girl who Tom was going to propose to. That girl was Y/n...

Thanks for reading, lovely~ 

[legends-live-in-memories]

Purple Lilacs

ayooo it me! Here is jasonette july saturday challenge: Hurt no comfort!

Maribat Masterlist  AO3

word count: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of body fluids, sickness, vomit and death. 

without further ado:   

Jason stumbled into the gas station restroom on shaky, unsteady legs. His chest ached and his vision swam, blurry with unshed tears. The dirty mirror and pale blue light couldn’t capture how disgruntled the fourteen year old boy was. He was still wearing his Robin suit, dirty and sweaty from breaking up fights and catching would-be criminals. His skin felt flushed but his blood was chilled to the bone. The fluttery pressure behind his ribs was a painful reminder of why he was here. He took a haphazard inhale of air and choked on it when he exhaled. His throat itched. The tears were beginning to fall behind his mask. The infallible Robin was unrecognizable in his reflection. His domino mask shielded himself from the agony that clouded his eyes. His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute, thoughts fragmented and disoriented. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t he breathe?

He ripped off his mask, tossing it without caution and splashed water on his face. He scrubbed at the sweat and exhaust that caked his skin, hoping, praying to wash this burning sensation away. He still couldn’t breathe.

He felt his stomach churn. He felt the bile clawing just beneath his adam's apple, desperate to escape. He barely had the strength to lean over to the nearby toilet before emptying his stomach. The smell burned at his eyes as the taste burned at his throat. He was left dry heaving for a moment, but that was all his body needed to expel what was clogging his airways. The petals floated pathetically in the waste in the toilet bowl; they were small and pale and stood out against the disgusting mix of vomit. Purple lilacs, first love. How fitting.

He had wished that the best week of his life wouldn’t end this way. He had wished, wished upon the stars in the skies and wished upon every dandelion he found in the manor gardens, that he could have something, someone, that was entirely his own. But her heart belonged to another and his heart was sick because of it.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her name was a breath of fresh air, a spring breeze in early May. He had met her on a Monday, her class was taking a tour of Wayne Tech. She was the cute yet clumsy class representative with an iron will. She was alluring and charming and Jason was swept up in her eyes of ocean tides. He never spoke a word to her that first day. Choosing to just observe her joke and laugh with friends. He didn’t dare interrupt her. He saw her again Tuesday. She was in a teahouse that was close to her hotel. She was with her brunette friend, Alya, he remembered from when he overheard her chastising the girl for saying something embarrassing. That was when he found out about her crush on the model boy. Jason didn’t think much of it. He didn’t think he would have to. His sudden attraction was only fleeting, he reminded himself.

The first time he actually spoke to her was Thursday night. Her class had stayed out later than expected so he watched them from a distance during patrol, making sure she got back safely. Making sure they got back safely, he corrected. He didn’t plan to stop by her window when she was safe inside and he definitely didn’t plan to strike up a conversation. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue to match. It was striking and it seeded something deep within his lungs. They spoke for hours, time lost to conversation, that it wasn’t until Agent A called into his ear that he realised how long he’s been strayed from his patrol route.  He had bid her a good night and she wished him a safe one. He had found a friend in her and the joy carried him throughout the night. He hadn’t expected to fall hard and fast for her within the week. By Saturday his instinctual attraction had grown into sweet yearning. The weight in his chest as he waited for her class to gather in the Botanical Gardens grounded him in his spot. He had to remind himself that she spoke to him as Robin and that Jason Todd-Wayne was nothing more than their sponsor’s recently adopted son. He couldn’t speak to her about her favourite novels as he technically shouldn’t be privy to that knowledge. He wasn’t deterred by that, however. In fact, it spurred him on to get to know her more. It granted him the opportunity to relearn her interests all over again and watch her eyes blaze with passion.

He never got the chance. Her attention was divided between the garden’s attractions and the blond that stuck close to her like a burr. He watched her giggle and swoon as the boy complimented her. He watched as Adrien, he had learned, plucked a flower and tucked it gently behind her ear. It was a purple lilac. The colour complimented her midnight black hair and made her pale blue eyes shine. He felt his throat go dry as he watched on, his words withering on his tongue. The scene was truly adorable, straight out of a movie with a happy ending. He was happy that she was receiving the attention she deserved. But it still hurt that it wasn’t him lavishing her with it. He was the outsider lucky to be watching. Their tour ended with an exchange of business-friendly smiles and memorized platitudes.

Now it was Sunday night and he was gazing at the products of his foolish heart. He could count how few the petals were that mocked him in the toilet. He could taste them in the mix of bile that sat on the back of his tongue. He could breathe easier now; his lungs were no longer heavy but his heart was still so. How cruel, his first love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had died. He hadn’t remembered much of what came before or of what came after. It was all tangled and fractured. He remembered fighting with Bruce a lot and threatening his new ward. Jason was awful, a danger, but he was also angry and confused. He was hurt and lonely. It took awhile to find some common ground with his family again. It took awhile for him to feel normal again. It was hard work but it was worth it.

A lot had changed in Bruce’s nightlife. The Justice League Jason remembered and the Justice League that he returned to were worlds apart. It was jarring and he continued to long for some familiarity in his life. It was genuinely a surprise when he was invited to join their ranks, after years of struggling, but he accepted the offer with a tearful hug and grateful smile in the privacy of the batcave. He was introduced to the other new recruits, taken aback at how the community had grown during his absence. One figure stood out to him the most.

Her name was Ladybug, a Parisian heroine with some connection to Wonder Woman. Her personality was bright and bubbly and she looked like the poster child for the Justice League. She and Jason had hit it off quite well, slipping into easy banter and trading battle stories like old-age friends. Their time spent together left him feeling light and free. It was casual and comforting. Until it wasn’t.

One night after patrol, he stood staring at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He was running through a checklist in his head of all the mundane things he had to do in the coming days. A trip to the drugstore for some cough drops, a couple cases to report and file here, some League meetings there. It was his new normal. He liked it. The thought of the Justice League led to the thought of Ladybug. Ladybug and her laughter at his jokes. Her half-hearted sneer at his puns. Her going on rants about fashion and the little twitch in her nose when she was frustrated with something. It was endearing, and enticing. It was always a delight watching someone who flung cars for a living lose their patience over mundane things. He was lost in thought when a coughing fit took over, bringing him back to the present. When his shoulders stopped shaking with the force of the coughs he felt something in his mouth. It felt like a piece of paper, thin and small. Thinking nothing of it, he spat into his sink and felt his heart clench. It was a single flower petal. A daffodil, meaning rebirth and new beginnings.

The  melancholy was instant, the resignation almost stopping his heart. How cruel, his second love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had decided to ignore the signals his body was sending him. He ignored the scratchiness of his throat every time he thought of her signature pigtails. He ignored the ever growing collection of petals that would decorate his toilet, or his bathroom sink, or his kitchen sink, or his shower floor. He ignored how blood had started to appear every now and again. Ladybug was his friend and he valued her friendship. He wasn’t going to let some biological imperative prevent him from making any meaningful connection with her.

It was a random conversation one day, the topic of little importance, but it had drifted to a discussion of identities and living the double life. He remembered telling her his real name, secret identities among League members being a matter of personal discretion at this point, and the flash of faint recognition in her eyes made him curious. She told him how she recognised the name from a school trip she took years ago. Apparently they had met once or twice during her time in Gotham. Her name was Marinette, she had said, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was as if the air in the Watchtower was being siphoned out the room as the seconds ticked by. He remembered that name, and he most certainly remembered the pain that name had brought him. He died with his feelings for her trapped between his ribs but they were long forgotten, withered after his resurrection. That is, until they crashed into him at the mere utter of her name. The longing came back in full force and he felt it weigh heavy on his tongue as his nose started to burn with the effort to breathe. He didn’t remember much after that conversation beyond a hasty excuse of himself. He made it into a restroom on some random floor and all but flung himself into an available stall. His mask was ripped off his face and the room echoed with the sounds of him hacking and heaving.

His heart was a cacophony of emotions; the feelings of teenage infatuation for Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the mature adoration of Ladybug blended into a concoction of purple lilacs and daffodils. Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt his throat get burned raw from his emotions. It was stifling and all-consuming. He felt like he was drowning and free-falling all at once. Unable to breathe. His face was flushed and sticky and he felt shivers begin to creep up his spine. It was disgusting how his own feelings would betray him like this. Peeling himself off the floor was herculean. Jason felt weary and his bones ached with the burden of his own body. Superman was already waiting for him outside the stall, a water bottle in hand and silent condolences smeared all over his face. A silent agreement was forged between them. How cruel, his one love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jason was younger he never associated love with pain. Love was always warm hugs and soft touches. It was gentle words whispered in the dark and saccharine sweet smiles. Love made flowers bloom in spring and the sun shine bright. How foolish he was. Now he knew. Love was a deep ache in his chest that pulsed in rhythm with his heart. It was a strangled gasp as he tried to breathe and it was tears that won’t stop falling. Love made flowers bloom, sure, but they bloomed in the deepest parts of him that he wished he could rip them out and everything attached straight from the roots. Love burned and festered and invaded everything that made Jason himself.

He couldn’t drown out the sensations no matter what he tried. A masochistic part of him was convinced he was addicted to the pain. Addicted to the reminder that he could love so strongly, so deeply. The idea that someone as callous as he could love someone so much that it could tear him down physically and mentally. Have the force of his own heart mold him into nothing but a garden of devotion. There was a part of him that didn’t want to lose the feeling of having feelings. The immediate times after his resurrection were wrought with nothing but mind-numbing emptiness so much so that his subconsciousness convinced him that he would settle for suffering as an act of love.

The tulip petals were beautiful, but worrying. He choked up an entire bud this time. His throat was still itchy and his fever had yet to be broken but the head of the flower in his hand was a distraction to all that had ailed him. Tulips, meaning opportunity and adjustment.

The voices on the television called his attention. It was some celebrity gossip channel and he couldn’t remember why he was watching it in the first place. He moved to change the channel when he saw her, Marinette, on the screen. She was attending some red carpet event and she looked beautiful. He wondered if she had made that dress; a memory of teenage ambitions floated to the forefront of his mind. A smile crept to his face against his will. He couldn’t help it, red was truly her colour. Then he saw him, her blond partner, waltz up beside her like he belonged there. He did, he reminded himself. The blond was her childhood crush turned boyfriend of a few years. She had told Jason stories during one of their many talks about him. He was funny and smart and a real casanova, she had said. Jason had pretended like those words weren’t thorns puncturing his lungs as he listened along. She looked at the model the same way Jason knew he looked at her. He was happy for her, truly.

His fever was back tenfold as he watched on and he was sweating a puddle into his couch. He couldn’t finish his meal and the coughs had returned. His shaking had overturned his food that was in his lap and it made a mess on the floor. He keeled over and added the contents of his stomach to the pile. Petals of lilacs and daffodils and tulips were pouring from his lips in clumps and he momentarily couldn’t breathe. He was becoming too accustomed to holding his breath during these fits. Becoming too accustomed to the lightheaded feeling inside his brain, the numbing feeling in his toes and the burning feeling in his heart. How cruel, his true love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to get her happy ending. She was supposed to grow old with her boyfriend turned fiance while Jason buried himself with his feelings. He cradled her close, feeling her faint exhales on his neck. He felt her body tremble and writhe beneath him. He was crying over her, gasping his breaths and gagging on emotions. She stared, eyes unseeing beyond him. She was speaking but he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his pulse in his ears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was a simple job, a covert job that was only information retrieval. Everything was planned to perfection and every deviation was accounted for. Everything was accounted for except his body failing him. He was attacked with a sudden coughing fit that he couldn’t get under control and it drew their target’s attention to them. Guns were aimed and fired at them and he couldn’t get his own body to cooperate with him. Ladybug had taken to shielding him until he recovered but she was overwhelmed too quickly. Her suit wasn’t bullet proof, she was still vulnerable and the shot was in a critical place. She was bleeding profusely. He. Still. Couldn’t. Breathe.

He gathered what little strength he had and dragged her body behind a wall. He was hunched over her struggling to control his breathing and the situation. He couldn’t leave, too weak to carry her. He couldn’t fight back, too dizzy to focus on any targets. He couldn’t think, too lightheaded from the lack of air intake. It was a bad situation that was only getting worse. He was crying and heaving and she laid beneath him bleeding. The flowers in the back of his throat were choking him without remorse. He took off his mask and tried with all his might to breathe in. It was scratchy and rough and it felt more like a wheeze than an inhale but it was something. With this moment of clarity, he had an idea. It was really a last resort that Ladybug had told him about. He reached for her yoyo that was held in her hand and pressed the center dot that was actually a hidden button. It was a distress call that would signal to her partner and doubled as a homing device. It was a call for help. He didn’t know how long it would take for aid to arrive but this was all he could do at the given time. His lungs were still stuffed and his throat was overflowing. The petals were stuck between his teeth, their earthy taste rooting him. His limbs were growing heavier by the second and his vision was getting hazier.

He watched as the light faded from her eyes. As the shimmering blue dimmed permanently. He watched her rosy cheeks grow pale as blood poured out from the wound in her chest. He tried to cradle her closely, to offer her some form of comfort in her last moments but he could barely move. Another coughing fit racked his frame and involuntarily had him doubling over. The petals were flowing freely now, unrestricted from his relaxing airways. They were beautiful in colour as they joined the ever growing pool of her blood, only tainted by the dark red tinge of his own.

A new petal had joined the ones he had grown so familiar with. Yellow chrysanthemums, neglected love. In France, he thought, his mind muddled by a discordance of feelings, chrysanthemums also meant death; they were given as tokens of grief and comfort. How fitting.

Oh and how cruel, his last love.

[smutty-ki113r]

I woke up to my alarm tellin me to get out of bed and so naturally I checked your tumblr and I'm,,, concerned

There's a small anon war over what hoodie smells like and I have no sense of smell whatsoever so I'm not contributin, but, leafs.

Petition to change the plural of leaf to leafs instead of leaves. Leaves is an ugly ass word. Leafs just rolls of the tongue, its nicer, its what the people want

Also the same with sheep like what, why is the plural the same, I refer to them as sheeps cuz it makes me happy

Also I don't like the y/n either because "y/n" is usually a whole ass person all in itself. And they're usually a girl in most fanfic, along with the fact that they are the Mariest Sue That Ever Mary Sue'd.

I've been considerin why LJ is my favourite and I think it's purely because if any of the more sane (Masky, Toby, Slenderman, etc) took one fuckin GLANCE they would run away. I have hope that clown boy is too far gone to care about my mental state too much.

If you squint real hard my braincell count looks like a normal amount

I'm so exhausted I'm gonna talk to you, my favourite online human, because the blue light from my phone keeps me awake.

But I think my favourite dynamic ever is Rivals to Lovers™. Not enemies to lovers, cuz enemies have two different goals in mind; whereas rivals compete for the same thing.

I'm a sucker for medieval shit so,, a scene that's been annoying me all day is~

you're invited to a Royal Ball (because isn't that how all romances start these days, just roll with it brother) and you go, finding out it's a masquerade ball. You get there, you dance, being passed from person to person in a never ending loop of jewel-embeded skirts that were swept across the marble floor of the (obscenely) bedazzled castle, and suits that seemed more expensive than you were.

Regret never came because the wine chased it away; it flowed in waterfalls into your glass, the scent of it filling the room but not enough to drown out the everlasting smell of expensive perfume. Sometimes the odor of it clung to the women of the ball tighter than their corsets. The massive drapes were pulled back, latching to the wall in attempt to keep them from falling and blocking the view–of which captured your gaze immediately. The doors were swung open to let the air in, and ensuring that no glass got in the way of what lay beyond; the moon, full and impossibly heavy hung, stranded in the crisp night air. The moon was the only one that didn't judge the events that took place in the ballroom that night, the only thing watching the crowd of people with a pure, impassive gaze.

Because later that night, after multiple drinks had been passed around and a cacophony of laughter, dancing, and food had been consumed–after many glasses of wine had passed your lips and your body– of which was feeling tingly and impishly confident–had wandered to a far corner, darkened by the domed ceiling, seemingly on its own accord. In that moment you would give everything to stay in the Palace, to twirl until your feet blistered and you withered away into old gnarled bones and ashes that could still dance with the wind.

"I do hope that you know well what you wish for; not for clarity of the concept, my dear, but for clarity of consequence." The voice that spoke in your ear was deep, low, and held even darker undertones. It siezed your attention and captured it in both hands, strangling the curiosity out of you. It had come from your right, even further into the pitch-black corner, but as soon as you moved all the thoughts in your head sloshed about, banging against the interior of your head. It was either equivelant to that or a sledge hammer, one of the two. The wine was probably just twisting the voice's around you, making them appear. You tried to convince yourself but alas, even you deemed it vastly unlikely.

Turning around was more difficult then you planned. Just when you thought you would see the owner of the voice, nobody was there. Yep, probably just the abundance of alcohol making you dizzy.

Shifting back to dancing wasn't hard; it was as if you were floating down along a stream, merely following wherever the river took you. Voices pressed against you on all sides, soon becoming a background noise too, a faint buzzing sound. It rose and fell like the waves, ever-changing in volume.

You started to lose a grip on reality; eyes fluttering closed as you danced, just taking a breath of air, letting the delicate night wash away your worries, who you wer–

What the fuck!?

You did a double take, eyes now wide fucking open, because outside you spied someone that had to be atleast a foot taller than anyone else in the ball. The darkness seemed to congregate behind it, flourishing, and the only thing you could see was a wide smile and a pair of eyes.

It seemed that you couldn't get enough air into your lungs, couldn't focus; the voice's that used to be hazy surround sound was now piercingly loud the people were just too much, everywhere at once. Your breathing only picked up even more as you gripped your chest.

The.. Demon had disappeared by the time you glanced upward, you you scurried outside, barely making it before you collapsed on a golden railing. There were fine drops of rain scattered about, eluding to the fact it had rained earlier. Your masquerade costume was getting wet, leaning against the railing, but you were so dizzy you didn't care.

It was the wine, it had to be. Nobody could be that tall, it–it was humanly impossible. Moving was now akin to attempting to romp through thick syrup; a stagnant pace, uncoordinated, unsteady. Then it stopped. There was a hand on your shoulder.

You skimmed the person; they had a dark blue suit that sparkled with the occasional gold highlights, with a blue mask covering their face–it seemed that it covered all of their face, and didn't quite match what a masquarade mask should look like, but you didn't care. The support was welcomed.

"You seemed as if you required help, my Lady," He said, his voice deep and low, so much so that you questioned if you would even be able to hear him over the music blaring in the ballroom if the two of you were to venture back inside.

You looked back to where you saw the tall being, with its eyes and smile that seemed wrong, and wrong in a terrible, dangerous way.

"Care to dance with me?" You asked, relieved when he slipped his arm with yours and led you inside. The music had slowed to a waltz, nothing like the big parade of dancers that came in flurries of colour and left just as fast. His arms were solid and a comfort, welcome as the breeze on a sunny day. It felt like he protected you from everything that might have caught you off guard, in a way. Plus, he kept you from falling flat on my face, which is always a good thing.

The song changed and you were about to ask him for something else; his name, maybe, but fate had other plans. Both of you were bumped and somebody else had picked you up in their arms, hands landing on your waist as the dance consumed you. Your mystery man in blue was gone, it seemed, and you sighed. Being safe was a hard thing to ask. Instead, above you now was a man dressed in dark browns and yellows– he had a rather strange mask that curled around his mouth and eyes, leaving the centre free. His brown locks looked ruffled and messy and he jerked every once in a while, moving sporadically. It didn't stop and he didn't seem to be able to control it so you didn't mind. The slight jolts emitting from him caused you to wake up more, which was always welcome.

"Are you okay?" You asked, after his gaze had wandered elsewhere. It came back to you in a heartbeat, and you sensed be was smiling under the mask.

He twirled you, spinning you gracefully. "Of course I am," he said, coming in close again. "For now, I'm winning."

The night surged on quickly and you found yourself caught between multiple strangle figures; a woman with silky black hair and a mask that made her eyes appear the same colour, that offered you a drink that wasn't wine. A man that had offered you wine, that stood next to the big buffet table with a full glass and a white mask. He had stood with a black-masked man, but he weaved through the crowd until he was another string in a pile of wool. Your blue mystery man made another appearance, but not with you–he was talking in low tones with another man (you didn't mind that they were mostly men; seemingly just because it never occurred to you that they might be connected) who had black hair, like the other woman, and pale white skin. The palest you'd seen in a long time. However, at that moment, he had looked up and seen you staring, only for you to catch scars at the ends of his mouth. You crossed it down to makeup or a deformity of some kind. Through all this, you were atleast grateful you didn't see the tall being again.

And everything carried on. Until it didn't. Blood stained the carpet black and the screams were too loud to ever fade away, seeming to shake the walls. You had tried to run from it, from them, but you tripled in a hallway and couldn't even get up because of your many glasses of alcohol. Struggling was futile and someone easily pulled you back.

With horror you realised it was one of the men from before; you recognised the scruffy brown hair and occasional movements. He held you there, between life and death a moment more, a moment where all the men you'd seen that night, and the woman, came around the corner. Their voices were distorted to your damaged ears but your eyes focused on the tall being; he was real, and black and white, with hands that weren't normal and a nose that was even less so. They're all abnormal, your consciousness whispered to you, and you believed it. The man on top of you grinned, happy that he had caught you. Your stomach turned.

"Bring them to the Mansion," a voice ring out in your head. Your 'companions' seemed to hear it too. "And bring them alive."

As you can see I've never written anythin in my life so this is shit lmfao but I don't care an im just here to brainstorm anyways

Have my little scene, take it, because it was fun to do. It's not spellchecked, I've not read through it, because I can't be bothered, so if anythin is wrong laugh and move on brother. Also tryin to write without cuttin off the g from my words and shortenin them was so hard so halfway through I didn't bother lmao

I think this is my longest message yet so, sorry about that Red

Cheers if you actually made it this far.

–Kieran.

I agree. Leafs is better. SHEEPS- thats the cutest thing I’ve ever heard and I love it.

Y/n is a stereotype in itself so I agree, it’s usually ya know, the whole “im different” kind of chick who can do everything and anything (basically bella from twilight), when in reality the reader is human and humans have imperfections. Lots of ‘m …LJ is my fav for a lot of reasons, at this point he’s a comfort to me. Plus, I (oml) relate to him so much, and I can do a post about this- if someone cares or asks. And I have similar traumaaa

Oh geez, I’m your favorite online human, AGH my heart, again, its burning. I agree, RIVALS TO LOVERS SOUNDS SO SOSOSOOSO GOOD I LOVE IT. (I would say my fav trope is “lovers who ache to be together but due to circumstance one starts to lose feeling for the other and it’s an agonizing pain to the other” or maybe that’s just me because I find completion in sadness, which is horrific. But I really itch to angst.)

Here’s me reading your scene and also talking about it at the same time. ‘Regret never came because the wine chased it away’…that’s a good line, thats a good line. The way you just take one thing and mash it with another aspect like wow. Like as each idea were droplets of water on a leafs and you happen to tilt it, connecting them so effortlessly. I’m jealous. The descriptions are amazing, and how you make it the reader’s thought process-damn. I WANNA WRITE THIS GOOD, YALL OUTSHINE ME. And then you say this was shit. *slaps you* DONT YOU DARE UNDESESTIMATE YOURSELF MISTER

Also the way you just subconsciously cut off the g’s is spectacular. I try to, but it’s hard for me. SORRY? SORRY?! Nononono thank you, because the longer the message the better. Apart from the fact that long messages make me happy, especially from you, it means you put time into talking to me! Which makes me super happy too. Heheheh. Thank you love! This made my morning, along with that drawing submission from cam anon, you should check it out! It’s really good.

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

HELLO!!! FANCY SEEING YOU HERE ALSKUXHCHC I WOULD LIKE TO REQUEST FLUFF, WITH BOKUTO, AND PROMPT #5 💚🧡💚🧡💜💜💜❤️❤️🤎🤎💚💕💚🖤🖤💜💜💖💘💓💕💕💗💗❤️❣️❣️

The corners of your mouth twitched into an uneasy smile as you processed the scene ahead of you. It was nearly identical to the image printed on the postcards you had purchased mere moments ago from the resort lobby. A fresh batch of snow gracefully blanketed over the slope, and the visitors, adorning their colourful snow tubes almost appeared to be sprinkles on the icy substance.

When you had originally allowed your fiancé to pick your vacation destination – you knew it would involve some adventure, but you did not expect that he would bring you to a winter wonderland.

“Babe, I need your hand.” Bokuto fiddled with your glove, as his bright irises twinkled in concern. “You’re gonna get a frostbite.” Once you absentmindedly provided him access to your hand, he slipped the glove into place before stepping back, and confirming that you had adequate protection from the dropping temperature.

“Kou, I’m warm! Don’t worry.” Despite your internal alarm with the scheduled activity, you had vowed to make the most of the day. And so, you would conquer your fear – or at least try to conquer it.  

After one more scan of your body, the volleyball player was satisfied. Since the procedural aspects were now complete, his attention landed on the staircase leading to the smallest slope on the resort. The other three slopes were only accessible if one rode the gondola lift, but Bokuto knew you were not ready for those just yet.

“Alright! Let’s do this.” The declaration had brought a dazzling grin to his mouth – one that you found to be incredibly contagious. With a faint smile tracing along your features, you proceeded forward, taking his right arm into your grasp.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

After selecting your snow tubes, you made your way to the top of the first slope. Upon reaching your destination, your breath caught inside of your throat. The emotions sprawling within your chest could easily be labeled as beginner’s nerves – yet the label did not help calm the danger sirens you were trying to silence.

“Hmm, babe? You okay?” There was no disguising the second wave of anxiety that washed over you. Tilting his head with his brows furrowed, Bokuto reached out to brush aside the few strands sticking against your cheek.

“Kou… What if one of us gets injured? Did you see that guy? He fell off and landed face first!” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you pressed yourself closer to him.

“Huh? Oh, that guy? Didn’t you see he was laughing about it? I think he’s fine.” For a brief moment his attention flickered to the group of friends below, no one appeared to be harmed. Rather, it seemed that he jumped off the snow tube earlier on purpose. That being said, if you were feeling uneasy it was his job to comfort you. Puckering out his lips in thought, he searched the surroundings for a solution.

“Kou, if I die. I love you, you know that, right?” The dramatic response was stated in a whisper as you continued to watch the other tourists who embraced the thrill associated with the activity.

Exhaling a breath to dismantle the pout on his mouth, he planted a kiss to the tip of your nose then shook his head. “I love you, y/n. But you’re not going to die. Not as long as you have me to protect you!” Striving to reassure you, he presented a toothy smile, one that melted some of the anxiety wrapping around your heart. “Plus, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Echoing the words back, curiosity brought your eyelids to narrow.

“Uh huh.” The grin remained plastered against his features as he approached the employee responsible for instructing the tobogganers. “Hey hey! I have a question. What kinda positions are allowed for couples who wanna share a snow tube?”

“Koutarou!” His name was choked out in embarrassment, and the group of teenagers behind you giggled in amusement.

But the resort employee remained unbothered, lifting his shoulders into a shrug. “What kinda position do you want to do?”

“Can she straddle me?” The pure edge to his voice did not match the content of his question. By now, you were masking your bewildered expression with your glove.

“Uh. That probably wouldn’t work. But she can sit on your lap, and wrap her arms around you or something. Your tube is large enough for that.” The disinterest clear in his tone made you wonder exactly what was asked in the past to make this person so…dead. But maybe that was a question better left unanswered.

“Oh yeah? Did you hear that, y/n?” Bokuto was practically bouncing on the spot. Snow tubing had now gotten more exciting for the male. He loved being close to you, and now he could package that with snow-tubing? He could not be happier.

You on the other hand? Well, you provided him a weak wave to indicate your “approval”.

“Yes. I heard it all.”

Once it was your turn, Bokuto placed the tube onto the snow then took a seat inside. After the employee directed him to place his hands on each handle, he instructed you on where to sit and how to hold onto your fiancé. While it was certainly embarrassing with everyone watching, this arrangement was one you were happy to accept. Even if straddling was allowed, there was no way in hell you would do that in front of an audience. But sharing a snow tube with your significant other wasn’t a big deal, a detail you realized after witnessing multiple other couples do so.

“You both ready?” The attendant sighed out. With Bokuto’s enthusiastic “hell yeah” and the muffled yes falling from your lips, he pushed your tube forward and towards your awaiting death.

Just kidding.

With your face finding refuge against the crook of his neck, the journey down was short and painless. Once the tube halted, you peeled away from Bokuto and let out a little “huh.”

“Not that bad, right?” Before you had a chance to respond and lift yourself up, he adjusted your hat, making sure your ears remained covered.

“Wait. I wanna do it again.” Remaining seated on him, you shifted your stare to the hill that no longer contained a threatening aura.

“Alone?” He tilted his head, attempting to recapture your attention.

“Yes.” The determination animating your y/e/c irises was equally adorable and fascinating, drawing out a chuckle from the male.

“That’s my girl!”

After conquering your fear with the smaller slope, you felt much more confident when approaching the larger ones. Bokuto, who remained attentive to your needs and concerns, would insist on accompanying on the journey down until you became comfortable enough to go on your own. When it was finally time to visit the final slope of the resort, you were much calmer and rather excited for the experience that awaited you.

“Kou, I’m gonna grab my own tube for this one. I think I can do it alone.” Proceeding a step back, you reached on your toes to catch a visual of the tube you abandoned near the cable transport.

“You sure?” Pausing, he surveyed your stance for any indication of hesitation.

“Yeah! Just go down without me.” It was quite clear he did not enjoy the idea of leaving you alone, but you reassured him with a wiggle of your fingers. “I’ll only be a little behind you, I promise!” That seemed to be enough to satisfy him.

Once you retrieved the snow tube, you hoisted it up with a confident smile. As you began to walk back towards the attendant’s post, however, the conversation of an unknown group of men forced you to stop in your tracks.

“I can’t believe our luck. Running into the MSBY Black Jackal’s Ace?”

“I can’t believe his shit luck. Hanamiya’s really going to puncture his tube.”

“Guess he really does live for the fun of “crushing” people.”

Rage boiled inside of your veins, lacing together with pure panic. Bokuto was already halfway down the slope, and you presumed the one lined up next was the one named “Hanamiya.” Thrusting your weight forward to fight against the weight of the snow, you tried to make it to the attendant in time. Unfortunately, it was a little too late.

“Shit. Shit shit.” Lowering the tube to the ground, you waited until you saw the volleyball player reach the bottom safely. But the issue was that this meant that the stranger after your fiancé was already halfway to his goal. “Okay. Screw it. I’m sorry!”

Instead of waiting for the resort employee’s approval, you jumped onto the tube then nudged yourself forward. Due to your improper position, your tube almost tipped over numerous times. Yet, you somehow managed to reach the bottom without completely being thrown off. You were seconds from completing your journey when you saw the dark-haired male slyly approach Bokuto. Without a second thought, you launched yourself off from the tube, transferring your weight onto the stranger.

Surprise coloured his features at your sudden attack and emergence. But you did not waste a second, quick to press your covered palm against his face.

“You stay the hell away from my fiancé.”

“Y/n!” Soon Bokuto’s arms were hooked around you, dragging you off and away from Hanamiya. “What happened?”

“Wow. Attacking a stranger. I wonder if I could sue you for this.” Raising himself from the ground, he patted off the snow stuck against his jacket. An emotionless smile hung from his mouth, only increasing your irritation.

“I heard your friends, you little shit. Don’t think for a second I’ll let you hurt him.” Standing protectively in front of your fiancé, you placed your hands on either side of you. Behind you Bokuto struggled to comprehend what was occurring, in a puzzled state his eyes travelled from you to the stranger ahead.  

“And here I thought you were only a damsel in distress.” Clicking his tongue, amusement curved Hanamiya’s eyebrows.

The statement did not register well with Bokuto who fell into a scowl. “What the hell are you talking about? She could totally kick your ass and mine.”

“Kou, I would never do that to you.” Reaching out, you poked his nose with the tip of your glove before turning your focus back to your newfound adversary.  “But you, wouldn’t it be unfortunate if that pin you’ve been holding ends up stabbing you instead.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Casting his glare aside, he shoved his hands into his pockets. A few meters away were his friends from earlier, they seemed to be watching the scene from a “safe” distance. “Whatever, this isn’t fun.” After administering a final glare, Hanamiya shifted his back to you and then went to join his friends. 

“Asshole.” The curse fell from your lips as you fought the urge to launch another attack on him.

“That was really dangerous, y/n.” Bokuto stepped aside, forcing your gaze to return to him. A childish pout was on full display to demonstrate his emotional state.

“What?”

“Jumping off the tube! You could have gotten hurt.” His pout only increased now, it was clear that he was unphased by the potential threat that was posed to his safety. It was you he was worried about. 

“Oh yeah. But it was kinda fun.” Recalling the thrill of the event, a titter crawled up your throat.

“She’s a monster! My fiancée has turned into a monster.” Low laughter rumbled from his chest as he slipped his arms around you, drawing you into his embrace.

“Well it’s only fitting that I’m engaged to a member of the monster generation then.”  Rolling your eyes, you contently accepted the warmth offered by your fiancé.

A/N: 1) My shooting star! I am sorry this took 500 years, I was trying to write this properly! I hope this was okay ;-; 2) I realized too late that snow tubing may be something most people don’t know so here is a reference photo lol 

General Taglist:  @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop  @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut  @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz  @mismatched-loves @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @ivsahi @prettyforpapiiwa @swoonhui @neobakas @azumane-kun @elephantloser @dreamstormings @rintarawr @anejuuuuoy   @thatthangwasthangin

Bolded means I can’t tag ya ~ 

[abeautifuldayfortea]

Storm

Summary: For the lovely @ladylouoflothlorien who requested this, I hope you enjoy! A/N and timeline for this story is below the story. Reader is an elf child from Celebrian’s escort travelling from Imladris to Lothlorien in TA 2509. For context, Osgiliath was lost in TA 2475. Quote in italics from Unfinished Tales, JRR Tolkien.

Hi hon, could I please request something with Saruman & Reader where the reader was rescued by him as a child and has been raised by him. Something a little angsty where they’re watching his descent into madness and serving the dark lord. Maybe he tries to hide what’s going on from them but they were raised smart and it’s not exactly difficult to figure out. I think this definitely calls for some(?) angst but as for where the loyalties and morality of the reader lie by the end of it is completely up to you. I just saw you were interested in writing for Saruman and this popped into my head, which is strange because I haven’t written anything like this before!!

Words: 1380

From his window in Orthanc, Saruman watched with calculated interest as a lone figure rode hard, out of the safety of Isengard, shrinking and disappearing altogether as they turned behind the feet of the mountains. It was for the north that they rode, onwards toward Imladris and Doriath, seeking Radaghast with his message, and in time they would return, bearing news to him from distant lands. Something about the child had changed irrevocably and though they tried to conceal from him its nature, he could sense their mind had altered from the course that he had set it on. Even the firm persuasion of his voice could not fully ease their troubles.

Making fully sure they were out of view, he sat smoking in thoughtful silence within the privacy of his chambers. Never before had he reason to doubt their will or their capability ere the shadow of Sauron had taken up his mantle in Barad Dur. Yet now, his faith in them wavered for he saw within them a growing doubt, no more than a flicker, but what he was sure would in time grow to a fire that would consume them both. This he feared beyond all else and though he knew it was wise to dispose of them, his heart refused and reminded him of a simpler time, if ever there was one.

Beyond the whistling despair that painted the skirmish he had found them by  the gaping mouth of the Redhorn Pass as he journeyed south to the new capital of Minas Tirith to proffer advice. His absence had cost the Gondorians dearly and thirty years on, the sacking of Osgiliath still marred the hearts of many like a suffocating tar. They needed guidance and he would be the one to give it.

But there, at the Redhorn Pass he sensed the biting sharpness of a greater grief and fear. Overhead, the looming shadow of Caradhras cast itself, breathing its chill on the very ground at its roots like the beckoning onset of winter.

The hewn earth. The song of the mountains echoing down the channels. The iron tang of blood on the wind. A memory came to him then on the same winds, a time long ago, far away and hazy as though he stood on the other side of a frosted window, intruding on something that was both intimate and distant. The shaping of iron, the forging of rings and a young man with dark hair and his master by his side. His name was Curunír then.

The vision awoke with him a great unquenchable desire for a past he could not quite remember and yet he yearned for every ounce of it, but as he did, it faded and however hard Saruman pursued it, he could grasp at nothing but a frosty wind. Before his feet lay the scattered bodies of elves, the battered standard of Imladris laying torn … and something else. The bated breath of a child. He was watched.

Saruman turned then beyond the violence and bloodshed, and toward a copse of shivering young oak trees. An elf child. Young but not quite naïve. Impressionable still. His eyes lit.

He remembered with sour hatred the founding of the White Council and Gandalf. His endearment with the hobbit people of the north and though he had mocked him then, he understood now what bound him so tightly to that merry folk. And while his heart went out to the child, he was struck with the bitter undercurrent of jealousy for Gandalf’s hobbit folk. He would take them under his wing to forge as his creation. Not as a child of the woodlands but one that would love fire and iron.

“Well, will you not come forth and tell me your name?” His voice was a gentle suggestion, light, guised as an offer but beneath it was a power so compelling that they could not refuse it. And so it was that the child strode forward to meet Saruman without fear or suspicion and gave him their name. And it is told that they were ensnared and spellbound to him, for a person’s name is ever sweet to the ears of the one it belongs to. In Saruman’s face, the child saw the visage of their lifeless father, only older and wiser for that was the veil he assumed to their eyes. Everywhere Saruman went, the child followed, growing tall and lithe like the long shadows of dusk in the even longer march of time. Their sharp eyes were ever watching and learning, for along his many wandering travels, Saruman taught them the secret way of words and to delve beyond them to discern secret thoughts.

By the time Saruman received the Keys of Orthanc, he was just as endeared to his charge as they were to him and it was as though they were molded from his own flesh and blood. To his charge, he spoke openly of preserving the Free Peoples and while they knew of his research of magic rings, he hid from them his truest desire to be recognised and undisputedly powerful. To rule. Yet this they discerned also, for they walked together through many centuries and as the time passed them by, they saw that he strayed from the road he had set himself upon, walking in the murky in-between of good and evil.

It was at the second meeting of the White Council that it was revealed to them, clear as day. There would be no attack upon Dol Guldur despite Gandalf’s protestations. It was unlike him to be careless, to claim the Ring had fallen to the sea, to deny the possibility of Sauron’s return. Saruman was always thorough, and they knew this to be true. Gandalf sat then, silent, smoking and Saruman mocked him as he always had done.

A beat.

It was in the space of a thought that Gandalf passed his gaze over to the elf by Saruman’s side, searching for some unknown thing within their gaze.

Looking keenly at Saruman he drew his pipe and sent out a great ring of smoke with many smaller rings that followed it. Then he put up his hand, as if to grasp them, and they vanished. (Unfinished Tales, Tolkien)

And the moment passed as quickly as though it never happened. The child who was now no longer a child, watched on as the hazy fumes meandered lazily out of his hands and they knew then that they were not mistaken.

Altered and seduced as Saruman’s mind was, his charge remained steadfast by his side, for the love between them was too great, though they grew ever more uneasy at the methods he resorted to. A ring he had crafted and many coloured robes he wrought, but he did not don them. They noticed the long nights Saruman spent secluded within the high chamber of Orthanc, casting his mind this way and that and communing at times with some veiled power that they shuddered to think of. A host of orcs and men arrived at the gates of Isengard and were welcomed. “As I have given you a home, they too shall have theirs” he had said, and he cast such a pitiful look at them that his charge relented. Great pits were delved and filled with fire and it was with despair that the young elf found themselves at the shores of darkness, upon the cusp of a war that should never have been.

And yet now they rode hard to find Radaghast and set his beasts to Saruman’s task. Before them lay the chance to turn away, to divert the course of the coming war. A chance to warn of bloodshed. A chance to stop children being orphaned before their time. In a sleepless dream, they walked in the halls of memory, to a bloody day at the Redhorn Pass, Celebrian’s abduction, the loss of family and the beginning of a new one. A day when a weary traveller came by and took them in as his own child. 

An impossible choice. One that would result in war either way.

They laughed at the folly of it, a peal of bright bells on the air for in the moment for there was nothing they could do but bask in the freedom of clear air with the countless miles between themselves and Isengard. A fair wind danced beside them, masking the foul tang of iron deep beneath the impenetrable tower of Orthanc. Overhead, the stars wheeled as night came and went like the swift kiss of ignorance upon their brow and for a moment in the wan gaze of the moon, everything in the world was as it should be. The knowing silence of the coming storm.

A/N: This was a challenging request (and my first for that matter) and I had much trouble trying to fit in a plausible scenario that matched the original timeline. A goodly amount of research and two weeks worth of fretting over the timeline went into this, but it still feels off :/ and I can’t say that I’m happy with the finished product.

Because the request asked for the Saruman’s descent to evil, the child/reader would need to have a lifespan that would need to stretch for a minimum of 500 years or so. Elves are the only race (bar Tom Bombadil and other strange beings) that has a lifespan matching this and so it is the race that the reader in this story belongs to. Personally, I am of the opinion that elves would take in other orphaned elves and so the scenario from which the child is rescued from must be far enough from the major elf cities to warrant them being raised by Saruman. Hence, I placed them as a part of Celebrian’s escort bound for Lothlorien from Rivendell in the year TA 2509. This small party was ambushed by orcs at the Redhorn Pass (I chose to set the scene at the junction between the Redhorn Pass and the Redhorn Gate because the Pass is described as ‘narrow’ along the cliffs and hence there would not be much room for the reader to hide! The general timeline I used is below:

TA 1000 – Saruman arrives in ME and goes into the east on regular trips

TA 1601 – The Shire settled

TA 2400ish – Saruman returns to the west, discovers Gandalf’s possession of Narya

TA 2463 – White Council formed, Saruman becomes jealous of Gandalf because he is mooted to be head of the council instead of Saruman

TA 2475 – Osgiliath taken

TA 2509 – Celebrian captured

2759 – Saruman gets the keys to Orthanc and settles in Isengard

2851 – 2nd White Council meeting, Gandalf urges attack on dol Guldur, smoke ring incident

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay Part 2

Fandom: Chicago Fire / One Chicago / Chicago PD

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Character/s: Halstead!Reader, eventual Casey x Reader

Warning/s: fire, mentions of kidnapping/assualt

Word Count: 3,445

Summary: Reader had a comfortable life in Chicago and worked a safe job at a library in town, but her life was thrown upside down when she got kidnapped on her way home from work by people who wanted revenge against her brother Jay Halstead. Now that she’s recovered she’s decided to become a firefighter, determined to help people the way she’d been helped when she needed it, but nobody said it was going to be easy.

You hadn’t expected it to be easy, but the fire academy had been brutal. It didn’t matter though, you’d appreciated every second, and you felt like you were finally ready to take the next step, move past what had happened to you and take charge of your life. 

Stepping into Firehouse 51, uniform on, you felt like you were where you were supposed to be. Your wounds had healed, but you still had a scare from where you’d been shot, a reminder of what you’d survived, and no matter how worried Jay and Will were about your first shift, you couldn’t keep being a librarian like nothing had happened. You’d been kidnapped, beaten, shot and left to die in a fire, you had to believe that the fact that you’d survived meant something, that there was a reason you were still here. 

So you’d decided that that reason was to do more with your life, make a real difference. Save people, like your brother’s did, like you had been.

“Well if it isn’t the new candidate,” you heard from your left, turning to see Herrmann heading towards to meet you as you made your way to your first briefing. 

“Hey Herrmann,” you smiled, but he didn’t match your expression, scowling slightly at you instead.

“That’s Lieutenant to you candidate, and don’t you forget it,” he informed you. You thought about laughing, but the look on his face said that wasn’t wise, you you straightened up and cleared your throat, apologising to him and using the correct title as you walked in to the briefing.

“51-” Boden began as you both walked in, offering you a much more welcoming smile than Herrmann, addressing the rest of the house, your new house, as you went to take a seat.

You paused mid way through sitting as the alarms sounded however, fire in a household a few blocks away. Everyone from Truck jumped to their feet as Boden sighed, a few people giving you welcome nods and pats on the back as you joined the others on their way to the rig, the realisation that you were now part of Truck hitting you on your way - so much for any easing in you might have wanted on your first day.

Getting your gear on was easy, you’d practiced doing it in private hundreds of times so you wouldn’t be the last one ready, climbing into the truck as Stella got ready to drive, taking off with sirens blaring when everyone else had climbed in.

“Welcome to 51 candidate,” Casey said, patting you on the leg as you subconsciously fiddled with the zip on your jacket, “hope you’re ready.”

“Of course Captain,” you told him, hoping that by saying it outloud you’d speak it into existence, realising that all your months of training had been leading up to this moment, God you couldn’t blow this now.

You arrived at the scene shortly, Truck pulling up behind Ambo 61 outside the burning building, everybody jumping out as Casey surveyed the scene before you. You heard Boden pull up and discuss options with the him, probably wanting to at least check in on the new candidate on her first call, but you couldn’t take your eyes of the fire.

It couldn’t have started long ago, but it had clearly spread fast, dark grey smoke rolling out chimney as flames flicked out from the windows, had it already jumped to the second floor? You’d have less time inside than usual.

“My daughter! Lily!” A woman screamed, dressing gown black with smoke as she coughed, a man equally as smokey desperately trying to hold her back from running in to the fire.

“Ma’am!” Casey yelled, heading over, “ma’am!” He repeated, finally getting her attention as she practically fell into him, grabbing his jacket frantically.

“My daughter! You have to get my Lily! I went to the neighbour’s for a chat, I was right next door and she was asleep, I don’t know what happened but please my daughter is in there!” She pleaded, the man next to her being the neighbour, you realised. 

“Right, is there anyone else in there?” Casey looked to her, then the fire, and then back.

“No, no it’s just her, please hurry!” She all but collapsed, her neighbour trying to keep her upright as Sylvie went to check on her. You could barely take your eyes of off the poor woman, how terrified she was for her little girl.

“Okay Truck listen up!” Casey call you all to attention, “I don’t like the look of these flames, so I want us to be quick, but you know how kids can be with hiding, so I want Gallo and Kidd sweeping the downstairs, Halstead I want you with me on the top floor, let’s find this little girl and get out before that smoke goes black. Everyone else get the hose ready, I want you to hit it as soon as we get out so it doesn’t jump to any of the nearby houses,” he ordered as you scrambled to but on your gear, securely fastening your mask and oxygen as your mind raced. 

Your first fire. Well, not exactly your first, your mind wandered unhelpfully as you tried to block out the memories of your kidnapping, turning quickly back to where the others were readying to enter the house. 

“Ready?” Casey double checked, allowing Gallo and Kidd to enter first. You gave him a thumbs up, not trusting your voice as he led you inside, veering for the stairs straightaway as the other two swept downstairs. 

It was hot. So hot. You’d trained in these circumstances, but there had obviously never actually been a person in real danger then, and this little girl was. You took short breaths, not wanting to use up too much of your oxygen as you reached the landing, walking slowly as the smoke got thicker, Casey feeling a head as you made your way to the first rooms. 

“Fire department, call out!” He yelled, opening the nearest door, the master bedroom, as you took the room directly opposite, the bathroom, both were empty. The next room looked like an office of some sort, boxes and paint in the corner like it was about to be redecorated, but still no sign of the little girl. Still, you hadn’t gotten to her bedroom yet.

The last room down the hall must have been hers, the flower stickers peeling on the door was a bit of a give away. Casey went first, calling out yet again as you hung back slightly, finding it a little hard to breath. Quickly checking your oxygen you realised that it had plenty left, so why couldn’t you breath?

You took a step and had to lean against the doorway, the smoke and heat feeling far too familiar as you fought to keep yourself calm and focused. Casey noticed finally as she did a sweep of the room, standing up from looking under the bed to see your legs about to give way.

“Hey! Candidate, what are you doing?” He asked as panic started to rise, opening your mouth to answer him but no sound came out. He made he way to you quickly, well aware that you were on a clock. “Halstead, Y/N, look at me,” His voice was softer now as he put a hand on your arm and you willed yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry-” you choked out, the feeling of being trapped in a buring building creeping into every part of you as memories of your kidnapping came flooding back.

“Y/N, breath, you have to breath, you’re fine okay, you’re safe,” he reassured you, keeping his hand on your shoulder as he turned on his radio. “Gallo, Kidd, any luck finding the girl? The upper floor’s clear.” Casey hadn’t found her in here, you realised, maybe she’d gotten out already.

Taking a few shaky breaths you tried to ground yourself, reminding yourself that you were in control, you were a firefighter now, this was your job, lives depended on it. God you had to pull yourself together, this was so not the time or the place for a panic attack. You’d only had one since that day, and it hadn’t even been in the academy or training, it had been walking back to your car from your last shift at the library and a guy in a van had pulled up beside you. He’d only wanted directions, but you’d made your way to the car and had a breakdown.

You couldn’t be doing this right now, it was your first shift, first call. “Negative Cap, she isn’t down here either,” Kidd radioed back.

“Okay, get out of here, this smoke is turning a colour that I do not like,” Boden instructed. Casey looked at you, searching your face as you managed to push yourself up off of the door frame.

“Let’s go,” he said and you swallowed hard, trying to snap out of your panic, this building starting to look more and more like the one you were trapped in as it burned around you. You took a few steps on shaky knees, glad Casey was a head of you so he didn’t see how badly you were affected by this. 

You made it to the stairs before you stumbled into the bannister, Casey looking back at you in alarm as you found yourself paralysed with fear, staring down at the fire consuming your way to the exit. You could make it, you knew that, but you fear was making it look impossible right now, your limbs as stuck as they had been when you’d tried to crawl to safety in that burning basement, your shoulder burning like you’d been shot all over again.

“Y/N!” Casey was worried now as he approached you, glancing back down to the front door. You could see the way out, but your legs wouldn’t let you get here. “Y/N, we have to go, now!” It had been like this last time too, you remembered, unable to move as Casey had carried you to safety. But he wasn’t supposed to be saving you, you were a firefighter now, you were supposed to be working with him, it was your job now.

Maybe this had been a bad idea, you thought, the library had been safer than this, whatever had happened that day, maybe you weren’t cut out for this. 

Casey was still looking at you in alarm as you rose to your feet, willing yourself to at least make it outside, pausing again when you heard something. Casey stopped again, opening his mouth to say something when you put your hand out to stop him, shaking your head as you strained your ear, fighting to focus through the sound of the first and the sound of your own thoughts. Was that a cry?

Taking a breath you straightened up again, hearing that cry again as you made your way back to the office. Casey followed after you, shouting to ask you what you were doing, that it was time to go, but you could barely hear him, so focused on that crying, couldn’t he hear it? ... Was it just in your head?

Opening the door again it was louder, Casey pausing now as he heard it too, your mind clearing with your singular focus on this child, the reason you were even here in the first place coming back to you enough to steady yourself. 

“Lily!” You called out, hearing a cry again as you ran to the desk in the corner, Casey joined you but you both saw nothing underneath it. Both of you looked around frantically.

“Casey, what’s the hold up?” Boden voiced over comms.

“I think we got something in here Chief,” Casey replied as you noticed something at the side of the desk, scratches on the wall, like something had been moved against it, kneeling down you felt similar indents on the wooden floor. 

“You have a minute, this place is going Casey,” Boden warned, knowing that he wouldn’t have left right now anyway, not if the little girl had been here, but you could tell from the sound of his voice that this was serious. 

“Casey, look at this,” you got his attention as you pulled on the side of the desk, he joined you to make it go quicker, shoving it out the way to reveal a little... door?

With a confused and worried glance to each other you and Casey pulled open the door, revealing a scared little girl curled up in a ball, stuffed bear held so tightly to her chest her knuckles had gone while, shaking with fear. 

“We got her Chief,” Casey radioed, breathing a sigh of relief as you tried to coax the timid girl out. What the hell was she doing back there? 

“It’s okay, it’s Lily isn’t it?” You asked gently and she nodded slightly, coughing as you held out your hand. “It’s okay Lily, I’m here to get you out, you’re going to be okay.” She coughed again, violently, the smoke filling the room quicker than you’d anticipated as she carefully took your hand. You pulled her out as quickly but carefully as you could as Casey surveyed the fire. 

She wrapped her arms around you with more strength than you expected for a girl that looked around 6 or 7, holding her closely to you as you opened part of your jacket, sheilding her with it the best you could as you made it out onto the landing.

“Stairs are not good,” Casey told you, turning back from where fire had consumed the entire landing, hurriedly directing you back into the room.

“Cheif we’re going to need a ladder to the front left side,” he informed Boden, shutting the main door and opening the window, waving out to where a ladder was being brought around. 

Lily coughed again and you crouched back down, making the decision to remove your mask and put it on her. “Take slow, deep breaths,” you said to her as Casey watched you, knowing you were breaking protocol but at this point your main priority was the girl.

With the mask off it all felt so similar, the heat, the smoke, the feeling like your lungs were on fire as you stayed low to the floor, watching Lily grip the mask with one hand and her bear with the other. And there was a smell... a smell that took you right back to that basement but...

The ladder came quickly and Casey snapped you out of your thoughts, making you go down with Lily first. Your legs were surprisingly steady as you climbed, the fresh air hitting you with such relief that you nearly cried.

Making it to the bottom you did nearly stumble, quickly catching yourself as you brought Lily over to Brett and Foster, her mother running to her straight away, thanking both you and Casey as he joined you at the bottom.

“Hit it!” Casey called to the men on the hoses as the house was doused with water. You made it back to the Truck before you had to lean against it, breathing in the fresh air like you’d just been underwater. Casey had followed you, standing a little bit away while you steadied your breathing. 

You looked to him apologetically, knowing you’d screwed up in there. “You alright?” He asked you, surveying you carefully. 

“Sorry,” you said, looking to the ground as he closed the distance between the two of you, clapping you on the back.

“For what, saving a little girl?” He smiled slightly, knowing full well what you meant.

“I froze Casey, panicked, I just felt like I was back in that fire and I- I locked up,” you poured out your feelings, a tear slipping down your cheek as Casey listened, “I thought I could do this, but I don’t think- I was a mess in there, I’m not sure I’m strong enough to do this, capable enough-”

“Stop.” Casey cut you off, putting a hand on both your shoulders as he made you look him in the eyes. “You saved that little girl.”

“I-” you started, not feeling like you’d done much more than slow down the actual search. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a mess, Casey would have found her sooner. 

Casey cut you off immediately, pointing to where Lily was being treated by the paramedics. “You saved her.”

“Any firefighter could have done that, anyone could have done that, without breaking down like I did,” you argued. Saving people was part of the job, it didn’t make you special, Casey did this kind of thing all the time without freaking out.

“Sure, but they didn’t, Y/N, most people don’t, ever,” he said with a little bit of force, like he was trying to get you to snap out of it. “Y/N, most people never do this kind of thing, it takes a certain kind of person to do what you did, to do what we do, you heard her cry before I did, found that room before I did, and sure, you panicked, but it was your first call on your first shift, you’re new, but you overcame that to save a life, and that’s the kind of instinct they don’t teach at the academy, it’s what makes you a Halstead, and it’s the kind of thing that makes me glad to have you on my Truck,” Casey finished and you swallowed, taking in his words as the hoses and the fire died down. 

You became a firefighter to save lives, to make a difference, to take charge of your life. And Casey was right, you’d fallen down before, made mistakes, but you’d always got back up, hell, you’d been kidnapped and then got back up and joined the fire department. You had to see it through, you didn’t want to go back now, you couldn’t. 

With a nod Casey took a step back, accepting that you’d heard him as the others came back to the Truck, congratulating you on your first fire as the ambo drove off, Lily and her mother inside. 

Even though you still couldn’t get the first out of your head, that room, that smell, those feelings... you got back into the Truck with the others as you headed back to the station. You’d survived your first fire, barely.

There were relatively few calls the rest of the day, a couple of car accidents and a man tangled in some cables, but mercifully, no more fires. So, despite a rocky start, it hadn’t been a bad shift, maybe you would get the hang of this afterall, what Casey had said had definitely helped you with that.

You were heading out with Kidd when Casey called you back. “Hey, Y/N, you got a sec before you leave?” You told Kidd you’d meet her at Molly’s, they were taking you to celebrate your first shift, and you followed him into Boden’s office. 

Severide and Herrmann were there too, and they all looked serious. “What’s going on?” You asked as you put your bag down at the side.

“Discussing this morning’s fire, it was off, way off,” Casey said and you couldn’t have agreed more, you’d been thinking about it all day.

“What the hell was that room?” You voiced out loud, it was too small and too hidden to have been anything normal.

“We want to hear your thoughts on it,” Boden told you and you thought.

“Me and Casey both had to pull that desk to move it away, there was no way that little girl had done it, someone else had to have put her in there,” you mused and the others looked to each other in agreement, clearly Casey had thought the same thing.

“Anything else?” Severide asked and you thought back to that smell.

“It smelled the same,” you mumbled, elaborating when you saw the confused looks on their faces, “sorry, the house, when I took off my mask to give it to Lily, it smelled like the basement, the one I was trapped in.”

“An accellerant,” Severide finished for you, leaning forward in his chair and putting his hands to his chin, thinking.

“It would explain why it burned so quickly,” Casey said.

“Someone torched that house,” Boden voiced to no one in particular, saying what you’d all already suspected.

“Someone tried to kill that kid,” you realised, your heart sinking. Who would do something like that? You didn’t know, but you were sure as hell going to find out.

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Playing House (Suga x Jeong-sun) & (J-Hope x Nana)

Contains: Fluff. Soft smut. Bickering. Double date. Mentions of V x Cassandra.

Set a week after ‘An Overnight Stay’ for Suga and Jeong-sun, and a few months after ‘Home Again’ for J-Hope and Nana. Jeong-sun invites Hoseok and Nana over for dinner, determined to prove herself in the kitchen. 

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Rated content below the cut

PART ONE 

Yoongi looked up from his laptop, the movement from behind the cooker catching his eye as Jeong-sun held out a tupperware container. The mushy food-stuff inside was indiscernible at his distance. 

“Does this look like 12 ounces?” She directed the question at him but glanced at the contents from the corner of her eye with a wary, mistrustful look. Yoongi thought it likely she was baffled by the unfamiliar scent of the blended mixture of exotic vegetables, uncertain as to whether it would make a tasty, or at the very least edible, meal. 

“There are scales in the cupboard.” He easily shrugged, looking back down at the spreadsheet on the screen with a sense of haste. He had been working on the document for most of the afternoon before a spontaneous phone call had called him away. A quick glance at the time in the bottom hand corner alerted him to the fact he only had a few more hours before the final calculations had to be submitted. While the thought had been at the back of his mind for the past few weeks, he had lost track of the deadline; usually accustomed to such matters being dealt with behind the scenes by the various accountants who worked for the company. He knew he was still within the terms of his contract that he and the other members had signed several years before, but the fact he had not produced anything new for BigHit since enlisting played on his mind. It felt right that he should finally take responsibility for his own finances. 

He heard her sigh, along with the heavy sound of a knife being dropped on the chopping board. “I tried them. It only shows Metric units. The recipe’s in Imperial.” She complained, eyeing the illuminated screen on her phone which she had set to the website in question. The various pictures which accompanied the text promised a colourful end result which, frustratingly, bore little resemblance to the mixture resting at the bottom of the saucepan. 

He scoffed, lips twisting. “Who uses Imperial?”

“Whoever wrote the recipe.” She quickly retorted. He could practically sense the eye-roll in her reply and couldn't help distracting himself once more by taking a glance in her direction, looking up just in time to see her dump the contents of the tupperware into the saucepan to join the assortment of vegetables she had peeled and cut earlier in the afternoon.

“It’ll do…” She murmured, making him snicker as he minimised the grids and numbers on screen to open up a web browser, his mind already drawn from the task at hand by another, nagging question. 

Jeong-sun bent beneath the counter to search through the assortment of herbs and spices on the rack below. 

“Liberia…” He said suddenly and she looked up, peering above the table.

“What?” She asked with a frown.

He read out loud. “Liberia uses the Imperial system. And the US.” Scrolling across the webpage, he pressed his fingers tightly to his lips. “Myanmar too...” He finished, satisfied. 

She smirked sarcastically. “That’s good to know.” He watched her dip down once more and continued to read, engrossed in the fact file he had come across. 

“Are there many vegans in Liberia?” Her voice was slightly muffled as she peered deeper into the cupboard, swinging the rotating holder lightly and scanning the peeled labels on the glass containers.

“I’m not sure.” He mumbled. 

The loud, grating sound of jars being rearranged filled the kitchen as she rummaged through the cabinet. “You were on the phone a while…” She called, raising her voice to be heard above the clattering of glass. “Is everything okay?” 

He sensed little more than mild curiosity in her tone, knowing she hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on the long conversation in the hallway shortly before, but unable to help it. He had left the kitchen door open, unaware when he answered the phone that he would be gone so long. “Jungkook called.” He murmured vacantly, eyes narrowing behind his spectacles as he scrolled down the page, reading rapidly. “Taehyung got in touch…”

“How is he?” Jeong-sun popped up her head, a jar of paprika clutched successfully in her hand. 

“Still in service.” Yoongi replied a little detachedly. “He’s going to be a father.” 

His casual, indifferent tone helped mask the meaning of his words and it took a moment for them to take hold and Jeong-sun poured the paprika into the pan for a few moments before she realised what he had said. 

“Oh?” She tried to read Yoongi’s expression from behind the laptop in order to gage his feelings about this piece of news but instead found nothing but his eyes scanning the screen. “Is it -” She paused, wondering how to phrase it delicately. While Yoongi had known the younger man for years, he spoke of his friend’s personal life very little. Regardless of this, a memory flashed through her mind. “The mother...is she the woman from the play?” 

“Cassandra.” He confirmed. 

“With the boobs?”

Their eyes met and he let out a breathy laugh, a smile breaking on his lips. “That’s her.” He nodded. Having not thought of that night in years, her words brought it back to him in perfect detail. The other boys had been distracted by the spectacle on stage as the actress shrugged off her robe but he recalled not being surprised. A part of him expected no less from the woman who had stolen Taehyung’s heart; with her exotic, tragic-stricken name and musical accent. 

“Oh.” Jeong-sun repeated, unsure what to say; not knowing either person enough to form an opinion. “Good for them I guess.” 

Yoongi gazed at her, his expression softening at her casual, awkward shrug. He realised his initial reaction to Jungkook spilling the news had been quite cynical, wondering whether the younger man was ready for it; if it wasn’t an act of carelessness on his part. The fact of the pregnancy being accidental hung in the air as the maknae spoke frantically down the line, along with the recollection told by Hoseok months before that the couple had broken up before Taehyung’s enlistment. 

The whole situation felt like a disaster waiting to happen, and while he hid this belief from Jungkook, he had needed to take a moment after hanging up the phone to collect his thoughts. Looking at Jeong-sun now, he suddenly felt a pang of guilt at having judged the situation too harshly; he didn’t know what kind of parents Taehyung and Cassandra would make, and either way he realised, it was none of his business. He mused for a moment, eyes flicking downwards in a sheepish smile. “Yeah, good for them.” He agreed softly. 

Jeong-sun had already turned to the back wall, reaching for a long, slender plastic bottle set back on the top shelf and, with a huff, stood on her tiptoes to retrieve it, her fingertips skimming the bottle a few times uselessly before she finally caught hold of its slender neck. “Is olive oil vegan?” She blew a stray strand of hair from her face noisily and peered at the green-hued liquid. “The recipe said rapeseed, but I couldn’t find any…”

“I think so.” He muttered, watching her measure a couple of spoonfuls and adding it to the ingredients. Her face was a little flushed and he couldn’t help but chime in. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You sound it…” He quipped.

“I’m sure I can cook a …” Bending over the counter, she squinted at her phone screen. “Vegan Jam...ba...laya…” She read the title slowly, struggling with the syllables. “...With okra and creole seasoning, just fine by myself thank you.” Straightening up, her hands moved to the curves of her hips in a defiant stance. 

“I’m sure you can…I don’t mind helping.” He pressed softly. 

She picked up a wooden spoon to stir the mixture. “I offered to cook for them.” She argued lightly. “I’m just borrowing your apartment. My oven broke.”

“Again?”

She sighed. “The fuse blew. I just haven’t gotten around to replacing the wiring.”

“You should get a switchboard.”

She glanced at him, unimpressed. “You try asking my landlord...How do you turn this ring on…”

“Top right.”

“Thanks…” Twisting the dial, she leaned casually against the countertop, waiting for the electric hob to heat up to temperature. “When did they go vegan?” She asked, a soft expression playing on her features as she watched him read. He seemed preoccupied when he spoke.

“I think it’s a new year’s resolution thing. It was his idea.”

Tapping the cooker lightly, she felt along the ring. “This isn’t working…” 

“Maybe we should go vegan…” He suddenly teased. 

“Fuck off.” She scoffed, matching his smile as he took off his glasses and folded them neatly on the table beside him; both falling into a comfortable silence. Realising he wasn’t going to reply, Jeong-sun busied herself, scooping up the used utensils and placing them on the shelves in the dishwasher. 

Eventually he spoke. “They have the second largest shipping industry in the world…”

“Who?” She spun around, voice curious.

“Liberia.” Leaning forward, he began to recite. “Accounting for eleven percent of ships worldwide.”

Jeong-sun raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you doing your tax returns?”

“I might need you to look them over.” He admitted a little guiltily, eyes following as she plodded over to the cooker.

“That’s optimistic of you.” She said dryly, lips curling. 

“You’re better with money than I am.” He said sincerely, glancing down to once again open the Excel spreadsheet. His eyebrows furrowed as he went back over the numbers, concentration not long fixed before a loud cry broke his trail of thought. 

“Ah! Fuck!”

His stomach churned unpleasantly and he was on his feet before he had time to think. It was immediately obvious what had happened and he reached for her hand carefully, inspecting the burn. “Put it under the cold tap…” He murmured, guiding her easily towards the sink and turning on the faucet. “I meant to tell you the hob heats up quickly…” 

“I just caught the edge..” She protested, sensing the hurt in his voice and twisting her palm to reassure him the damage wasn’t bad. The pink-coloured streak stood out against her otherwise pale skin; the cold stream turning her other digits white as he held her wrist steady. Both fell quiet as they waited for the burn to cool, a shared memory lingering silently between them as they remembered their roles being reversed; her guiding his hand under the tap carefully as a trickle of claret ran between their palms. 

“I guess I’m not so good at this whole ‘playing house’ thing.” She admitted with a sigh, cheeks stained pink as she cast a sly glance towards the offending hob. “I’d make a terrible wife.”

He twisted the faucet, chest aching at her words and he gently released her from his grasp. “I don’t expect you to ‘play house’.” He said quietly.

Their eyes met and she edged closer, touching his forearm delicately as she whispered. “I know you don’t.” Her gaze dropped to her covered feet, self-conscious as she toyed with what she was trying to say. “After it being just us for so long…” She trailed off.

“It’s strange for me too.” He confessed softly, eyes drawn to where her hands met his skin and watching her move along his arms, comforted by his solid presence. 

Worrying he would misunderstand, she backtracked. “Not in a bad way…”

“No.” He agreed. “Just new.” 

She continued to caress him delicately, the pads of her fingers trailing along the grooves and tendons in his wrists. 

“You know he’s going to talk your ear off…” He eventually murmured, casually changing the topic.

“Hoseok?” Her face perked up.

“He really likes you.” Yoongi confessed with a smile, making her grin in reply as he looked down at her hand. “Do you want it wrapping?”

Flipping it over, she shook her head. “It’s not that bad...I’m just wondering if I should quickly go home and get changed.”

“Why?” His eyes flickered briefly over her body, noting the tight, figure-hugging fit of her jeans and the hint of cleavage beneath the frill of her organza shirt. While not particularly dressy, he didn’t see anything wrong with what she was wearing and sensed she was trying to distract herself. “You look fine…” 

Bridging the gap between them, he captured her lips, tilting his head slowly as she sank into the kiss, clearly relieved by his gesture. Although they kissed when she arrived, the space of several hours suddenly felt like an eternity; their separate activities in the kitchen seemed a waste of time when they could have spent it like this; pressed together; their bodies flush and lips entwined. She felt his tongue move against hers and sighed gently into his mouth, feeling breathless as he slid his hands down her hips to the round flesh of her backside which he squeezed beneath his digits, kneading her flesh through the denim before spanking her once, lightly, on the right cheek in a surprising move which made her moan against him, the space between her thighs growing warm and tingly. It wasn’t enough, and she cursed the fact they would have to part soon, their bodies inevitably separating in order to finish the meal she was preparing and, much later, that she would have to return home and go to work. As though sensing her thoughts he slowly pulled away, pecking her in a final, lingering kiss; knowing that their guests would be arriving shortly. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather look over my tax returns than cook?” He uttered, mouth soft against her lips.  

She closed her eyes briefly in reply, his offer undeniably tempting but not completely masking the nagging feeling that she should be the one to cook. “I promised…” She protested unconvincingly. 

“I won’t tell.” He whispered, a small grin tugging at his lips. 

With a relieved sigh she gave in, unable to stop herself from drawing him into another sinking kiss. “I love you.”

***

The murmur of voices caught their attention before they even heard the doorbell ring; the owners clearly trying to keep quiet on the front stoop in order not to disturb the neighbours but failing massively. Yoongi looked up from the bubbling saucepan and lowered the heat to simmer as he met Jeong-sun’s gaze with a shared grin. She clicked the send icon on the screen, finishing the final piece of paperwork and closing the laptop with a soft clink. It had been years since she had solved calculations any more complex than her own household bills, and the feeling was strangely satisfying, as well as the knowledge that her admittedly rather dry expertise with numbers was finally coming in useful to someone other than herself. 

“That’ll be them.” He joked, setting down the wooden spoon and joining her side as she led the way to the front door. The scent which filled the apartment could not quite be described as appetizing, but he had followed the recipe closely, only substituting what he could not find in his cupboards with similar ingredients. 

Jeong-sun stepped aside to allow Yoongi to reach for the door handle, and the volume of Hoseok’s greeting made her jump in surprise. 

“Hyung!” The open door shielded the younger man from view, but the sight of her boyfriend being pulled from the hallway into a presumably a tight embrace made her smile. A second later, she lept back once more, letting out a little squeal of shock as a slender, mottled-patterned Greyhound shot through the open doorway, his blue lead trailing uselessly behind as he raced down the hall, towards the empty guest room. 

“Seulgi...no!” 

Jeong-sun heard Nana cry after the dog moments before the tall, angular woman came into view, rushing blindly past Jeong-sun in an effort to recapture the lead which had evidently slipped from her grasp. 

“There he goes…” Hoseok murmured good-humouredly, whistling under his breath and stepping into the hall. He soon noted the woman’s presence. “Hi Jeong-sun!” He grinned, wrapping his arms around her before she had time to process what was happening. 

Yoongi followed the brown and grey shape with just as much confusion as his girlfriend, watching as Nana managed to corner him at the end of the corridor and bent down to pick up his lead, her beaded dress skimming the floor with a jingling sound before she straightened up and slipped it from his neck.

“I hope you don’t mind…” The older woman fussed, breathlessly gesturing to the extra guest as she led the dog back towards the group. Her chest was stained pink above the straight bust of her strappy dress; a long 20s style number in Morrocan blue which came to the tops of her bare ankles. “I should have called before...it just happened at the last minute…”

“Her neighbour was taken to the hospital, and someone needed to look after the dog.” Hoseok explained, a little more eloquently. 

A worried frown played on Nana’s face as she turned to Jeong-sun. “I hope you’re not allergic.”

“It’s fine.” She waved, still getting over her initial startle but realising that the dog had once more disappeared from view. “Where’s he gone…” She murmured a little anxiously. 

Hoseok seemed preoccupied with something perched on the floor outside and returned a moment later clutching a heavy-looking plant pot. “We brought you this.” He held the object at arm’s length while Jeong-sun and Nana looked around nervously. “I hope you like orchids.”

Taking the pot from his hands, Yoongi smirked. “I keep killing them.” He muttered dryly. 

Nana faced the other woman and her spiraled hair bounced energetically against her shoulders. “I think he’s in the bathroom.” 

Jeong-sun sauntered after her as she lept down the hall, murmuring under her breath. “As long as he doesn’t drink the toilet water...” Seeing that Nana had once more secured the Greyhound with its tattered looking leesh, she turned towards the kitchen, a little flustered as she switched off the hob and looked around the space. “Yoongi?” She called. “Do you have a bowl the dog can use…?” 

“Under the sink.” He instructed from the hallway and she bent down, rummaging noisily through the various cleaning products and spare pans before she found a small steel bowl towards the back. 

“Got it!” She shouted, giving it a quick rinse under the tap before filling it with fresh water and placing it carefully by the doorway. The dog sprinted into the room at the sound, sensing refreshment, and quickly lapped at the liquid, followed by Nana who brushed a ringlet flusteredly from her perspiring forehead. She glanced apologetically at the other woman, noticing that she did not seem as keen on animals as herself and Hoseok, but relieved to see she did not appear angry at having an additional visitor. Jeong-sun wandered past to find Yoongi in the hall, unsurprised to see Hoseok conversing with him eagerly by the open doorway as though they had not seen each other in months. 

“Did you finally meet him?” The younger man, seemingly unaware of the woman’s presence spoke in the hushed tones of someone trying to keep a secret but too excited to whisper. Yoongi nodded but his back was turned, obscuring his expression. 

“How was it?” Hoseok asked eagerly, though his grin quickly faded when he spotted Jeong-sun by the kitchen and realised he had been caught out. Yoongi followed his friend’s gaze, meeting her eye across the hall and giving a tiny, knowing smile, telling her all she needed to know. 

PART TWO

“Woo…” Hoseok let out a long breath of air as he reclined back in his hair, chest and stomach puffed out as he stretched. Nana eyed his empty plate as she reluctantly put down her cutlery, too full to finish the hearty helping in front of her. 

Seulgi, who at the start of the meal had been banished into the hall, had somehow found his way back into the room and while his temporary owners had initially protested, was soon forgotten as a third bottle of wine was opened. Yoongi stroked his ears soothingly from under the table, picking at the plate of store-bought ciabattas which accompanied their main course without much appetite and occasionally, when the others weren’t looking, dropping the crusts onto the floor where the dog snatched them up eagerly. 

“That was really good Jeong-sun…” Nana proclaimed as she chewed her final mouthful, making a point of rubbing her stomach. 

Her boyfriend leaned forward, echoing the sentiment. “Really good!” He beamed, an empty plate a sign of sincerity. 

“I really couldn’t eat another bite…” Nana continued, reaching for her glass of red to clear her throat. 

“Not another bite.” Hoseok agreed cheerfully, seeming to forget in his apparent tipsiness that he had already finished his serving. His cheeks were rosy, forehead perspiring a little under the warm kitchen bulb, and he reached for the wine bottle to pour another drink for himself.

Jeong-sun bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh as her eyes moved from the woman to the man beside her, their almost-innocent lack of self-awareness enviable. 

“They’re right...it’s really good Jeong-sun…” Yoongi murmured, his expression straight but eyes swimming playfully. “How long did it take you?” 

A toothy grin crept onto her lips and, with the other pair preoccupied, she reached under the table to slap his wrist lightly, chest filling with warmth as he matched her flirtatious smirk. “Shut up…” She whispered, heart thudding madly as she felt his long, slender fingers wrap around her own; their bodies still for a moment as a shared, static sensation played between them.

“You know, he’s probably going to have to come and live with us…” Hoseok sighed, suddenly breaking the silence. Jeong-sun and Yoongi instinctively moved apart to look across the table, seeing at once the younger man was addressing his girlfriend who appeared about ready to fall asleep. Her curls were dangling a little listlessly across her bare shoulders, the thin, flimsy straps of her dress having slipped from place. 

“Who?” She yawned; the drink having clearly gone to her head. 

“Seulgi.” He replied, matter of factly. Nana glanced beneath tired, droopy eyelids. 

“He’s not our dog…” She feebly protested, unable to help noticing the way the man beside her had sat up energetically as an idea clearly played through his mind. 

“He could be…”

Jeong-sun watched this exchange with a mixture of amusement and awkwardness, the conversation having taken an peculiar turn which looked to be heading into a half-hearted argument. 

“Don’t be silly…” Nana sighed, bending her arms at the below to finger her shoulders, adjusting the straps which she belatedly realised had come askew. 

Hoseok laughed lightly, his cheer not dampened by the mild insult. “Why not?” He asked, clearly not seeing any flaw in his plan. “Your neighbour might not be able to walk when she comes out of the hospital...it’s not the first time she has fallen over...we’d be doing her a favour.”

“Oh Hoseok!” She exclaimed with a loud huff, hands banging on the table. “What a horrible thing to say!”

“I’m just being realistic…” He quibbled. “She’s really old!... And Greyhounds need a lot of exercise…”

Despite their melodramatic tones, Jeong-sun couldn’t help but shift in her chair, looking to Yoongi for guidance on how to react, but surprised to see him sipping his glass casually, unphased by the rising volume of the couple opposite. She realised the spectacle was not new to him and felt a pang of shock when she remembered how long he had been familiar with them and their antics; that while Nana was a near-stranger to her, Yoongi had known her for years during their time apart. The revelation was odd; sitting beside him now, it felt strange that over three years had passed where they had not been in each other’s lives. She found herself reaching for the bottle of red, pouring herself the third glass of the evening.

“And what will you do when you have to go back to work?” Nana challenged, breaking Jeong-sun’s trail of thought. 

“Ohhh…” Hoseok uttered, vocalising his thoughts out loud. “That’s a while yet…”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath Nana…” Yoongi chirped in, not unkindly. 

The older woman looked at him, disappointed in his casual taking of Hoseok’s side. “Do you agree with this Jeong-sun?” She challenged, eyes darting in her direction with an exasperated smile playing on her lips. 

The other woman shrugged, unable to help her lips from curling at the corner. “If you don’t take him...it looks like Yoongi will…” 

Half-way through the dinner she had felt the dog brush her thigh, his tall but slender body almost bumping the underside of the table as he squeezed himself between her and Yoongi, clearly comforted by their presence, before finally settling down and falling into a light sleep. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out which of them he liked the most. 

“See?” Hoseok held out his palm, gesturing to Jeong-sun before turning to his girlfriend. 

Nana sighed slowly, clearly giving up. “We’ll talk about it later…”

A short and relieved silence fell over the room; the first proper moment of calm of the evening, and Yoongi got to his feet, carefully pulling back the chair to allow Seulgi to escape. 

“We’d better get going soon...it’s a school night.” Nana murmured, wiping her eyes and smudging her eyeliner in the process. 

“It’s okay, we’ll be off to bed soon.” Yoongi agreed quietly as he began to collect the plates, piling them neatly in the centre of the table. 

Hoseok and Nana moved back, giving him room as they followed the dog into the hallway; happy to see that even he had grown tired in all the excitement of the evening and had begun to plod along lethargically. 

Hoseok suddenly turned back to the other couple from the doorway, grinning as though he had only just remembered. “We have some big news…”

“Oh?” Yoongi’s interested, but calm tone told Jeong-sun that whatever the other man was about to reveal, it probably wasn’t as earth shattering as the description implied. 

Nana nodded from beside him as she reached down to slip the loosely fitted leash around the dog’s long, slender neck. “We’re moving in together.” She said, her matching smile signalling the argument from before was already forgotten. 

“When?” 

“At the end of the school year...once Nana had sorted her belongings…”

“I need to figure out what I might need to keep...for the year group coming up.” She explained gingerly, already thinking of the mammoth task it would be to sort the trash from the treasure and knowing she would be unable to let go of as much as she should. 

“That’s great.” Jeong-sun joined them as they headed towards the front door, bringing her palm to her mouth to stifle a long, drawn-out yawn. 

“It looks like you’re ready for bed too!” Hoseok smiled, hand skimming Seulgi’s fur fondly as the group clustered at the end of the hall. 

“Long day…” She murmured in reply. 

“I’ll bet!” He waved goodbye as they spilled into the night, the cold evening air filtering through the doorway and into the apartment. 

“Thanks again for the meal Jeong-sun.” Nana smiled. 

“It was better than a restaurant!” Hoseok retorted as they took off down the street, clearly meaning to cut across the park in order to get home. The dog, rejuvenated at the prospect of an extra walk, bounded happily in front of them. The trio seemed perfectly matched; their long, spindly limbs breaking ground quickly as they disappeared around a corner. 

Yoongi closed the door behind himself and turned to face Jeong-sun who was rubbing her hands quickly together to warm against the draft which had crept in. Her cheeks were rosy beneath a light layer of foundation, eyes gleaming with mirth as she leaned casually against the wall and tucked her hands behind her back.

“They really liked your cooking…” She simpered, enjoying the silence which followed and the comfortable tension which rested in the air as he attached the safety chain, his movements slow and deliberate as it rattled into place. When he looked back, she was already walking into the living room, ignoring the mess on the dining table in favour of heading towards the couch in the far corner. He followed wordlessly, watching her slump heavily against the cushions to lay outstretched across the length. He stayed where he was at the foot of the chair, waiting for her to speak; to tell him what she wanted. While it had been nice to have guests, he suspected that like him, she had been waiting for them to leave. The memory of the heated kiss shared in the kitchen burned in his mind throughout the meal, leaving him restless and fervent. 

“Take them off…” She murmured, not needing to elaborate as he inched forward and reached for the waist of her tightly fitted jeans. The buckle unclasped easily, dragging her hips upwards as he clutched the fabric and worked them down her legs. She was utterly still, limbs heavier than usual in her drained state, but he handled her body with ease, slipping the jeans across her knees and around her feet as she watched him carefully. Discarding them on the floor, he moved his right hand to the fleshy part of her lower calf which he rubbed tenderly, admiring her body below him as she rested her socked feet against the armrest to allow better access to her soft flesh. “These too…” She lightly fingered the burgundy trim of her panties, running along the tight band which rested across her pelvic bone, before they too were moved away, digging his knuckles gently into her flesh as he hooked them beneath the elastic, drawing them down. Under other circumstances she might have felt a moment of coyness as she was exposed, his standing position allowing full view of her lower body, but instead found herself unable to pull her eyes from him; the look on his face as his dark eyes shifted across her said it all, and she parted her mouth weakly. 

“I’m too tired to fuck…” She admitted breathlessly, feeling regretful. 

A shy grin crept onto his lips and he inched forward, smoothing his palm along her bare thigh and up her torso as he nestled between her thighs which she gladly parted for him, covering her body with his own. “Me too…” He smiled easily; breath warm and gentle against her skin before kissing her with open lips. She met his mouth zealously as he ran his fingertips through her hair, brushing her cheek softly before pulling away. Her lips were parted; full and red, and she took his hand in hers, slipping it slowly between her thighs. 

He was still for a moment but her expression encouraged him, and he stroked through her folds with two digits, brushing his moist fingertips over her swelling clitoris. She moaned softly, guiding for a moment before allowing him to take over, his thumb running over the coarse curls of her pubic hair as he slowly caressed her, trapping the hooded skin above her clit gently between two fingers and teasing her sensually while he watched her expression tenderly. She closed her eyes, moistening her dried lips with her tongue, and his heart thudded in response. Moving closer, he trailed his lips along her cheeks and nose, welcoming her warm, shallow breath against him. 

“Does this feel good?” He whispered against the corner of her mouth, listening to her sigh in response.

“Yes…” He felt her eyes open against him and he pulled away to look at her. “I love you…” She murmured, voice cracking. 

His mouth trembled in reply, only stilling when she arched her back to kiss it closed as she welcomed the weight of his body; embracing him, pulling him closer. He touched his cool cheek to hers, eventually slowing against her when he sensed from her quieting moans that she was too tired to reach her high. 

Reaching around his back, her fingertips splayed across his covered shoulder blades, holding him soothingly. He felt her lips against his temple and knew she was wanting to speak; to let go of the tension she had been holding onto all evening since he had roamed his hands across her body in the kitchen, prior to Hoseok’s arrival. Stoking a damp strand of hair away from her forehead, he moved onto his side to rest against the back-cushions of the sofa.

“What is it?” He whispered, meeting her gaze; smoothing her cheekbone tenderly with his thumb. 

She was silent for a long time; her chest feeling as though it might burst as he waited patiently, appreciating her features; how beautiful she was.

“I could be with you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough…” She murmured, eyebrows furrowed as the words took hold, affecting them both. He felt her confession in every limb; his heart seeming to simultaneously swell and sink as he realised that he too felt that way. 

He blinked, eyes stinging as his mouth opened silently, trying to find the right words but failing. Instead, he nodded, fingertips quivering against her cheek. He thought she might be able to feel his heartbeat in them. 

“I know…”

Jeong-sun was silent, unable to talk; there was nothing stronger she could answer in reply. Instead, she reached for his hand, taking it gently in hers and placing it flat against her chest, under the trim of her shirt to rest between her breasts. She closed her eyes slowly and nestled into him, palm trapped between their bodies and pressing into his own. Finally, her heartbeat slowed against his digits as she drifted into sleep, her light snores comforting against his collar. He watched her for a while, knowing he would awake aching in the morning from having foregone the softness of his bed but not giving it a second thought. As he pressed his lips gently to her hair, wrapping one arm gently around her, he was careful not to disturb her slumber. 

***

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[coppicefics]

Masked Omens: Week Seven, Part One

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Entertainment section of the Capital Herald, dated 6th February 2021. Full image description and transcript below the cut. End ID.]

Read the fic here! All news stories and events are entirely fictional; real names of people (with the exception of image attributions) and places are used only for context. No affiliation is implied, and no disrespect is intended by the use of their names in this work of fiction.

[EDIT: With thanks to HolRose/@hasturswig for spotting that I had overlooked the sad passing of John Noakes, who originally appeared on this page!]

The Capital Herald - Saturday, 6th February 2021 Entertainment, page 15

Top left: Grasswater redo rumoured Will anybody tackle the ‘cursed’ adaptation? [Image Description: The ‘w’ in ‘Grasswater, ‘h’ in ‘the’, and ‘o’ in ‘adaptation’ in the above headline have been circled in pencil. End ID.] It's been nearly a decade and a half since the critically-acclaimed adaptation of Sir Thomas Parsett's The Grasswater Affair flopped into cinemas, and rumours are once again circulating about a possible reboot. The first attempt at transferring Parsett's magnum opus to the big screen was released in 2009 after a series of setbacks to the production process. Among the calamities that befell the set were a fire in the wardrobe department, an overdose requiring producers to recast the lead role of Fabian, and a bout of food poisoning that halted filming for over a week. There were whispers, among the more superstitious, that the film was cursed. By the time The Grasswater Affair was finally released, the delay had whipped the original book's fans into a frenzy of anticipation, and excitement over the forthcoming film actually pushed the 19th-century novel into the bestseller lists for the first time in the weeks before the release. Early reviews were promising, and the good press only fed the hype machine. But the crowds that packed into cinemas to watch it emerged disappointed; while the reasons they gave for their disappointment varied wildly, everybody from casual viewers to die-hard book lovers seemed to find it lacking in some aspect or another. It deviated too far from the source text, while adhering precisely to the minor details that didn't matter; it featured a young actor fresh out of drama school, rather than the promised household name; it lingered too long on shots of the actresses' bosoms, and the key object that proved key to the plot was left entirely out of focus in the background of a crucial early scene. While, naturally, some audience members enjoyed it in its own right, it never became either a blockbuster hit or a cult classic, and it still boasts a lowly 2.9 stars on the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) and 24% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes. This being the case, it might be hard to understand why rumours continue to circulate about a revival of The Grasswater Affair, or what might make this time different from the many, many other occasions when such a story has surfaced on the internet. The first question is easily answered by a look at the thriving community of Parsett fans who adore the original novel – and, indeed, the rest of the series The Grasswater Affair is part of. Following first Fabian, and then various other heroes, through a sort of alternative 19th century underpinned by magic and other fantasy tropes, it's been hailed as a masterpiece – and it's aged surprisingly well despite the shift in society's views and tolerances since its publication. The first novel sees Fabian locked in a battle of wits with his somewhat older rival, Rafferty, as they seek to make their fortunes in a society rife with danger and – worse – scandal. As for the second question, the recent rumours have an extra ring of truth to them thanks to the attachment of an actual name – writer-turned-showrunner Noel Garmin is said to be in talks about the project. Having adapted several of his own books for the small screen, could he now be turning his famed respect for written source material to a film or series based on Parsett's masterpiece? If he does, book fans can expect to be very pleased with the result. Garmin was asked about his upcoming projects at a recent convention panel, and his answer, while enigmatic, seemed promising.“Well, I've got to write some books, at some point! But I do also want to work on some more TV, it's a fascinating way of telling a story and it's still quite new and exciting for me. Perhaps I could tell one of my favourite stories, one that I didn't originally write. I'm actually talking to some people... We'll have to see. Hopefully I'll have news for you soon.” Hopefully you will, Noel. Hopefully you will. CITRON DEUX-CHEVAL Top right: Summer’s operatic offerings Last of Glyndebourne festival announcements [Image Description: The apostrophe and ‘s’ of ‘summer’s’ and the ‘t’ of ‘operatic’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. Below the headline is a short, wide picture of a theatre auditorium with red curtains. Small text over the bottom of the picture reads ‘Photo: Gabriel Varaljay | Unsplash’. End ID.] Opera fans are in for a treat this summer, as Puccini's Turandot returns to Glyndebourne Opera House. The venue in Lewes is renowned as the home of great opera, and Turandot is a favourite no matter where it's performed, so this combination of the two is a perfect match. Throw in popular young tenor Jeremy Wensleydale – most recently seen on ITV's The Masked Singer - performing the role of Calaf, and it's a performance guaranteed to impress. The play follows Calaf as he sets out to win the hand of the titular princess. Each suitor is asked three riddles, and failure means instant death. But answering three riddles is not enough to win the heart of Princess Turandot, and Calaf strikes a desperate bargain; if she can guess his true name by daybreak, she may put him to death regardless. If she fails, the marriage goes ahead. It's an interesting method of courting, to be sure, but the opera has enchanted and delighted audiences for many years now. And, if nothing else, who can resist an opportunity to hear 'Nessun Dorma' live? Glyndebourne members can book tickets now for dates between 25th May and 22nd June; remaining tickets will be available from the 18th of April. Turandot is the latest title to be announced by the opera house and completes their summer season's line-up. There will also be performances of Cosi Fan Tutte, Tristan and Isolde, Il Turco in Italia, and an array of concerts and other events. The Glyndebourne Summer Festival is always a highlight of the arts scene in the middle of the year, but there are events all year round. Currently, the opera house is a stopping-point for a touring production of Romeo & Juliet, which has already passed through the Chichester Festival Theatre and will then go on to Colchester, Ipswich, Cambridge, Sheffield, Manchester and Leeds. The show is a daring new interpretation of the age-old Shakespearean tragedy, fusing music and dance with the familiar story, and a full review will appear in the Capital Herald on Thursday. From the middle of February, Romeo & Juliet will be replaced at Glyndebourne with a more traditional #approach to La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The music of La Traviata may be familiar, even to audiences unfamiliar with the story, as it was rather liberally plundered for inspiration by Donato Lovreglio in 1865. Of course, that does assume a familiarity with Lovreglio - but if you find yourself humming along during your first attendance, that might very well be why. Incidentally, for more opera and classical music trivia, you might find my recent book, Inside Opera, worth a read - especially if you need to brush up on your cultured conversation points before you visit the opera house this summer. EDWARD BIGGS Inside Opera, by Edward Biggs, is published by Byker Press and is available now in all good bookshops. #Hardback RRP ￡9.99/€11.99.

Centre left: Capital Herald scoops NMA Star-studded ceremony honours news greats [Image Description: The ‘H’ of ‘Herald’, ‘A’ of ‘NMA’, and ‘t’ of ‘star’ in the above headline are circled in pencil.] The 2021 News Media Award ceremony took place on Thursday evening at a glamorous event held in the Mayfair Room at the Connaught Hotel, Mayfair. While many of the attendees are more used to operating the cameras than parading in front of them, they rose to the occasion with great aplomb, rubbing shoulders on the red carpet with some of the most famous entertainers in the UK who'd come to add their own special touches to the ceremony. It will come as no surprise to learn that Trevor McDonald, Natasha Kaplinsky, and Naga Munchetty were in attendance, as were Tom Bradby and Dan Walker. But the attendee who really got heads turning was Carmine Zugiber, notorious for attending very few events on UK soil. Although she's normally out in the field, she's been based in London for the last couple of months, covering the political beat for News World Weekly in Uriel Scrolle's absence, and it seems she couldn't resist the opportunity to collect her awards for Best Combat Coverage and Outstanding Field Reporting in person. Wearing a glamorous Ligur gown in striking red to match her hair, she paused on the red carpet to exchange words with some of those less fortunate reporters covering the event. “I don't know what to do with myself, with nobody shooting at me!” Zugiber joked. “Where's my bulletproof jacket?” The ceremony featured a performance of 'Messy (If I Want To Be)' by rapper P-White, who also presented an award for Entertainment Columnist of the Year to the Capital Herald's very own Citron Deux-Cheval. Another of the Capital Herald's staff writers, Edward Biggs, was nominated in the category of News-Adjacent Achievement for his 2020 trivia book, That Guy From That Thing. While the award, presented by Dame Angela Crowley, eventually went to News World Weekly's Donald Eath for High Score: A Study in Arcade Machines, Edward did get a chance to meet Dame Angela and exchange a few words. “She said I shouldn't feel discouraged, as she didn't win anything at her first awards ceremony either – and she wished me every success with my new book, which has just come out,” said Biggs of the star. “Hopefully, next year, I'll be bringing home a trophy too.” At the end of the night, as the winners and losers drifted home, the presses were already roaring into action to print the morning's papers. The news never stops; there was precious little time for the winners to enjoy the warm glow of appreciation, and no time at all for the less successful nominees to lament their losses. But at the end of the day, the whole industry could sleep safe in the knowledge that the work we do is valuable, and valued. MARY HODGES

Bottom left: Blue Peter garden party ‘22 Celebrating 10 years in show’s new location [Image description: The ‘B’ and ‘e’ of ‘Blue’ and the ‘h’ of ‘show’ in the above headline are circled in pencil. End ID.] The BBC has announced that it will be holding a party for former Blue Peter presenters, guests, and viewers in 2022. Held in the Blue Peter garden in Salford to celebrate ten years since it was relocated from London, the party is expected to provide an opportunity for Blue Peter presenters, past and present, to mingle and let their hair down, as well as catching up with some of the guests who've appeared on the show over the years. Former presenters such as Adam Young, Katy Hill, Radzi Chinyanganya, Anthea Turner, Gethin Jones, Pat Maputi, Yvette Fielding and Konnie Huq can expect an invite, of course, as can the current team of Lindsey Russell, Richie Driss, Mwaka Mudenda, and Adam Beales. But the former guests are an even more varied bunch; everyone from Idina Menzel and Sir Chris Hoy to McFly and Tim Peake could be invited, to say nothing of the hundreds of farmers, bakers, teachers, parents, and kids who've taken part in the show. While the party is quite a long way off yet, the BBC are already hard at work figuring out a lottery system that will allow them to give every viewer an equal chance to be invited to the party. Register your interest now on the Blue Peter website to make sure you don't miss out. SARAH JEUNE Ad, bottom right: [Image Description: A black background with a dark-grey crown resting on it. There are smudges of a lighter colour on the background. Above the crown, graffiti-style text reads ‘P-White’. Below it, written as if in chalk, are the words ‘Chalkdust tour’, underlined as if in chalk. Beneath it, a red bar reading ‘New dates added’ covers the words ‘Sold out’. Below that is the web address ‘www.chalkdust-tour.com’. Tiny writing in the bottom right hand corner reads ‘Photo: Zach Angelo for ProChurchMedia | Unsplash’. End ID.]

[End of transcript]

[authorlmfletcher]

Umbrella

While the girls are having a sleepover, the conversation turns to soulmates and the idea of tattoos on your skin revealing your true love. It’s just for fun. Isn’t it?

Based on the @mlweeklyprompts​ for the week: “Pen Tattoo.”

Also on Ao3.

“Soulmates are so romantic,” Rose cooed, fluttering her eyelashes while releasing a deep sigh and pressing her hands to her heart. Marinette tried to refrain from rolling her eyes, but could hear the quiet groans from the rest of the girls in the group. Her room was crowded with all her friends, blankets thrown all over the floor with their pillows for a “girls only” sleepover. 

“Soulmates are just fairytales, Rose. Who has time to wait around for something as silly as a soulmate?” Alya. Ever practical and down to earth Alya. 

“You don’t think you and Nino are soulmates?” Rose pressed, leaning in closer with the widest babydoll eyes that Marinette had seen. Alya’s scoff was loud. 

“Oh hell no. That soulmates thing is far too much work. Could you imagine? What if you thought the other person was your soulmate and it didn’t work out? What if that person was a monster? What if you spent your whole life waiting for “the one” only to discover you are old and it’s too late?” 

Rose’s shoulders dropped a little as her romantic bubble burst. 

“I wouldn’t want a soulmate,” Alix muttered. “Way happier knowing that I don’t have to spend my life waiting for the other half of me or whatever. I’d rather just be alone. What about you, Mylene?” 

Their dreadlocked quiet friend just smiled. 

“I don’t really believe in soulmates,” she said quietly. “But if Ivan was mine, I’d be fine with that.” 

Marinette shifted slightly as Alya narrowed her eyes in her direction. 

“What about you, Marinette?” 

All the eyes in the room snapped to her face with varying degrees of curiosity. Unable to stop the rush of embarrassment that flooded her cheeks, she stared down at her suddenly fascinating fingers. Did she believe in soulmates? Not exactly. But …. 

“Sort of?” she admitted finally. Rose squealed and clapped. 

“I knew it!” 

There was a buzz of conversation from her friends then. 

“Why?” blurted out Alya over them all. 

“Well, see… There’s this old Chinese story Maman used to tell me when I was growing up about a red string of fate. Basically, the story says that there’s this invisible red string attaching you to your one true love. I guess - I guess I always hoped that it was true.” 

Rose sighed dreamily, sinking back against Juleka. Juleka just looked down at the blond haired pixie against her with a soft smile. 

“My favourite soulmate stories are the ones where you only see in black and white until you meet your soulmate and then see colours,” admitted Mylene. 

“I like the idea of a tattoo that symbolizes your relationship,” mumbled Juleka. Rose squealed, scrambling to her feet to grab a pen from Marinette’s disastrous desk. 

“Draw the tattoo we’d have.” The pen was thrust into Juleka’s hand before Rose flopped back onto the ground in front of her, arm held out for a design to be doodled on it. Juleka stared blankly at Rose for a moment, blushing slightly before pressing the pentip to the pale skin of Rose’s arm. Everyone squeezed in close around them as Juleka sketched, the image of rose wrapped in a dark, swirling ribbon coming to life. 

Before long, Marinette’s sketching markers were strewn all over the place as each of the girls took turns having a design doodled on the inside of their wrists to represent their significant others. Alix just doodled on her own arm - oversized pink flowers taking shape on her skin. 

Marinette drew on Alya’s wrist, trying to make sure her lines were straight as Alya laughed. 

“It tickles!” she yelped, trying not to pull away. 

“Stay still,” Marinette ordered, pinning her friend’s arm between her knees in order to continue the marker tattoo. With careful lines, she doodled away, an image of a cell phone tangled with the wire of an orange headphone set that lay on the ground around it. For a moment, Marinette debated adding some tiny nods to their secret hero identities, but pushed it aside. 

Alya stared at the imaginary tattoo with admiration before snapping a picture to send it off to Nino with a mischievous grin. Slapping the phone down on her pillow, Alya asked to see the design that Juleka had drawn on Mylene - a beautiful set of musical notes on a rainbow coloured staff. 

Marinette copied Rose’s design onto Juleka;s wrist so they would match. Rose made a high pitched noise as they placed their arms side by side, beaming at each other before pressing their foreheads together in happy silence. 

“Your turn,” offered Juleka suddenly, snatching the black marker out of Marinette’s hand before pulling the arm close to draw. 

“But…. I don’t have anyone-”

Marinette’s arguments were futile as the pen hit her skin in a smooth line. She held her breath, watching as the shapes that Juleka drew formed into a full picture. It was simple. 

A small open umbrella coloured in with a brilliant emerald green. 

Reaching out with her other hand, she silently ran her fingers over the drawing on her skin. A shiver ran through her at her touch,making her gasp as her vision blurred to surround her with the image of green eyes smiling at her in the rain. The scene swirled suddenly, the eyes locked with hers morphing into a solid green, wrapped in a familiar black mask before the sound of thunder jolted her back to the room with her friends. 

Four sets of eyes looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Are you ok?” asked Alya slowly, reaching out to touch Marinette’s hand.  “What just happened?” 

Marinette blinked, trying to figure out what, exactly, she had seen and why. Her mouth opened and closed kind of like a fish, unable to voice anything coherent. 

A loud ding saved her, making Alya dive for her phone. Flicking open the screen with a grin, she burst out laughing. 

“Nino’s freaking out about the idea of soulmates. Look.” The phone screen swung in their direction, showing a poorly sketched copy of the image on Alya’s wrist on the arm of her boyfriend. Everyone chuckled except Marinette who stared at the umbrella on her arm with a disconnected kind of feeling. 

Alya’s phone dinged again. And again. And again, in rapid concession. She turned the phone back to see why Nino was in high text mode. Marinette looked up at her friend when she said nothing, only making a slight gasp at her phone screen before going somewhat pale. 

“Uh, Mari….” 

The phone appeared right in front of her face, too close to focus. Taking the phone from Alya, she stared at the picture on the screen without fully understanding what she was looking at. With a frown, realization sank in. A pale white wrist filled the screen, a small red umbrella etched on the skin. 

The phone vibrated as it dinged over and over, making her drop the phone onto her lap while she stared at Alya with a silent question. 

“Adrien.”

Of course Nino was with Adrien. They were best friends. 

Suddenly the room was too small, the air too thick. She scrambled to her feet, trying to untangle herself from the blankets as she struggled to breathe. Her friends called out to her as she stumbled down the stairs and out of the apartment to the street. 

“Tikki,” she squeaked, unable to process it all and desperately needing her friend. The little red kwami pressed into her cheek, reminding her to breathe. 

“It’s going to be ok, Marinette. Just breathe.” 

“Are soulmates real?” 

Tikki looked at her with soft eyes. Marinette knew. Just then, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that soulmates were true. At least, for them. Ladybug and Chat Noir. Destiny called them together. 

“Transform me,” she whispered, savouring the rush of energy on her skin before swinging up to the rooftops. She could feel him. Somewhere out there on a Parisian rooftop in the encroaching darkness of night. Her feet pulled her from eave to eave, leading her towards the Eiffel Tower. A final swing pulled her up the metal frame, high up the tower to the platform they frequently sat to observe the city. 

He waited, cat ears twitching slightly as her feet landed, eyes instantly finding her across the gap between them. She took a hesitant step forward, unsure exactly what to say. 

 “Marinette,” he said, the waver in his voice making it hard to keep from wrapping her arms around him and hold him tight. Never had she heard her name said with such… reverence? Another soft set of words encased him in a flash of green, melding the black of his suit to the usual blue jeans and button-up white shirt she recognized from his civilian self. Blonde hair and green eyes held her gaze, the mask fading away to nothing, leaving in its place one Adrien Agreste. 

Taking a step closer, his hand snaked out and gently brushed a renegade tendril of hair behind her ear. 

“Look.” He held out his wrist, revealing the outline of the red umbrella on his skin. Her gloves ran over the design in awe. It was real. “I was sitting there with Nino, playing games and chatting when his phone dinged with a message from Alya. She said you guys were goofing around drawing soulmate tattoos on each other and sent him a picture of the one you made for her. He thought it would be fun to draw it back. We are terrible at drawing, may I add? Especially on skin. ANYWAY, he was messaging her back with that picture when all of a sudden the whole room vanished and all I could see was you. Your blue eyes, and then the mask. When the room stopped spinning, it felt like I’d burnt my arm. When I looked down, I saw this umbrella. And I knew, milady. I knew it was you. It’s always been you.” 

“Spots off,” she breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from him. He winced slightly at the assault of pink on his eyes before settling back on her face with some rapid blinks. 

“Hi.” She didn’t know if she could trust her voice anymore, whispering a broken hello in return. The heat from how close he stood made it hard to think at all. He gently pulled her arm up to look at her matching, and yet opposite, umbrella design, running his thumb slowly over it. A tingle ran down her spine as he pressed his lips against it. His fingers threaded through hers. 

His other hand landed gently on her shoulder. 

“May I kiss you?” 

She didn’t know if she said yes out loud, but must have- the hand on her shoulder pulling her closer, the one between her fingers squeezing tightly as their lips pressed together. The current that jumped between them left them breathless. 

Rose was right. Soulmates are romantic.

@mlweeklyprompts

[colourful-void]

Hope’s Peak AU General Outfit Headcanons

It’s more au!!!!!! I was really tired while writing this and it probably shows. If I missed anyone lemme know! I think I missed someone from v3 but I'm not sure who. If people are interested in the dr3 characters beyond Ryouta, I can add on to this post. Lemme know!

As a general rule, any special events that require uniforms (graduation, entrance ceremony, etc) will have most students wearing uniforms. It’s important to note that while Hope’s Peak has a uniform (the same ones seen in the dr3 anime) there is no dress code. You can buy a uniform in the school store, but they aren’t at all mandatory, and so Hope’s Peak Students can wear Literally Whatever They Want. So you don’t have to wear the uniform for your agab, you can wear a halloween costume everyday, pj’s everyday, really the only rule is that if you would get arrested for wearing it on the street, you probably shouldn’t be wearing it here, and you need to be wearing something.  

(I’ll also mention free time a bunch in this post, which is just whenever the students aren’t in class. I’ll explain the daytime/nighttime and class time/ free time schedule in a later post)

Long post, so details on each character underneath the cut! =)

[Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc]

Makoto: wears his outfit from THH, but the pants are the uniform and the jacket is the uniform. during free time he’s just in hoodies in jackets. He gets cold easy.

Sayaka: wears the uniform, she thinks it’s cute. Has hair clips/hairbands to accessorize. wears cute and trendy clothes!

Leon: doesn’t wear the uniform. Wears whatever was closest lying on the floor. 

Chihiro: wears the uniform, but sometimes with her in game skirt instead of the uniform skirt. some of the other girls took her shopping for dresses and skirts and she loves all those outfits and wears them all the time! =)

Mondo: wears the uniform, but not the tie, and has his shirt unbuttoned in that delinquent way most of the time. Sometimes Taka will through a tie on him, though loosely tied. (Mondo doesn’t like things restraining his neck)

Kiyotaka: are you kidding he wears the uniform religiously. He’s never seen in anything else. Even after class hours, on weekends, over break, he’s wearing it. Some of the under (and upper) classmen wonder if he even owns other clothes. 

Hifumi: owns a uniform. Usually wears it, but sometimes he just comes in pyjama’s. 

Celeste: never. She’s not even wearing it in the pictures from THH, she’s probably never even touched a uniform. She’s committed to the aesthetic. dresses all the time.

Sakura: wears it everyday, but only during school hours. wears stretchy workout clothes normally. 

Mukuro: wears the uniform, though she’s modified it so the neck is looser, and there are lots of hidden pockets for weapons. She also made her skirt longer. she also has a bulletproof vest she wears both during and after classes. shes got leggings with hidden pockets. 

Junko: also wears a modified uniform, with extra pockets, and a shorter skirt. She also has her tie from THH, and her THH skirt. Keeps her Monokuma Hairclips.

Aoi: More likely to be wearing her gym uniform or other work out clothes with the hope’s peak logo on them than the actual uniform, but staff will take what they can get.

Hagakure: doesn’t wear it.

Touko: wears the uniform, but Syo doesn’t. Syo just wears whatever, so if she’s in control when getting dressed, she’ll probably just wear whatever she can find. She doesn’t care if its clean, ripped, etc.

Byakuya: The Great Byakuya Togami has better quality clothes than the hope’s peak uniform, but will wear it when requested by Makoto, or at any school events where he wants to look part of the class or something. (School fair, stuff like that)

Kyouko: wears the uniform. It makes her dad happy.

[Ultra Despair Girls]

Komaru: Doesn’t go to Hope’s Peak, but wears the uniform for her own school.

All the warriors do not wear uniforms. I don’t think that Hope’s Peak Elementary has a uniform. They wear their in game things. Except Jataro, who wears an allergy face mask instead of his in game mask. 

[Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair]

Hajime: Wears the Uniform, though usually not the jacket. He’ll keep it with him, but hang it on chairs or something. If he’s wearing the jacket either Izuru is in control, Hajime is cold, or he’s at a formal event.

Imposter: they’ll follow the outfit choices including uniform of whoever they’re impersonating, they are Dedicated. 

Teruteru: doesn’t wear the uniform. Is always wearing a chef’s outfit. He didn’t wear it in dr3, he won’t wear it here.

Koizumi: Wears the uniform during class hours, wears simple dresses and overalls during freetime.

Peko: wears her uniform most of the time, though does own and wear casual clothes. She’ll usually wear those around her own room though, and she has little dresses she’ll wear on outings or on dates

Ibuki: it’s debated if Ibuki even owns a Hope’s Peak uniform. She’ll wear whatever she feels like, which means you may see her in a full suit, a ballgown, a tracksuit, her gym uniform, or a uniform for a school thats she’s never been to, and you can never tell what it may be. She is pretty fond of neon colours though, so typically she’s wearing really bright colours and casual clothes. She also ties her hair up different constantly, with no rhyme or reason other than ‘she felt like it’. She looks like Haruhi in that one opening scene to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimiya.

Hiyoko: shes still wearing kimonos and she still cant tie them

Mikan: she wears the uniform most of the time, and casual clothes when it’s not class time. Her uniform has been modified for her by Tsumugi, to make the skirt longer. Her casual clothes are nice skirts, leggings and long sleeved shirts.

Nekomaru: He wears the uniform most of the time, and track suits/ his in game clothes during free times.

Gundham: wears the uniform during school hours, and his in game clothes during free time. However, he always has his scarf and arm wrap.

Komaeda: wears the uniform, but has his little sweater vest thing. Basically what he looked like in 2.5. His hair has a touch more colour to it though, and there’s brown starting to come in at the roots by his 3rd year. During free time he wears his jacket from the game.

Chiaki: same clothes as dr3 during classes. Will wear anime graphic tees and hoodies when she’s not in class.

Fuyuhiko: Guess what it’s his vest from 2.5, I’m sorry it’s getting repetitive but canon did alright with outfits in some places and I’m not gonna fix whats not broken.

Sonia: Sonia loves the hope’s peak uniform. She wears it often, but she does have some casual dresses for when shes not in class. A note I will make, Sonia is way more practical about her hair in this au because I refuse to believe that someone like Sonia would have hair that long and not tie it up. She wears high ponytails and her braid crown from the game, and is happy to try different hair styles, such as braids or buns.

Souda: “wow souda, how come your mom lets you have two jumpsuits?” also teeshirts and basketball shorts.

Akane: wears the uniform, but also gym clothes on the regular. sometimes she wears oversized teeshirts, and general work out clothes.

(Im putting Ryota here because I’m lazy)

Ryota: wears the uniform during class, and oversized hoodies when class is over.

[New Danganronpa V3: Everyone’s New Semester of Killing]

Shuuichi: wears the uniform. He also has his hat. He wore it a lot in first year, and slowly grew to wear it less. Now he wears it sometimes, but not always! When he feels like it. 

Rantaro: wears the uniform, and his normal clothes when school hours are over. He’s got a laid back style of dress that matches his personality 

Kaede: she wears the uniform and she’s very happy about it! Her casual clothes look like a uniform, they’re very preppy. Sweater vests and pleated skirts.

Hoshi: wears the uniform but replaced the normal jacket with his leather one, and his in game clothes when he’s not in class.

Kirumi: she’s wearing the uniform the majority of the time, even when class is over, since it makes her more recognizable to the other students. She keeps the gloves though. Students are Messy.

Angie: Ok previously I said she didn’t wear the uniform, but then I started drawing her in the uniform and I changed my mind. She wears her raincoat instead of the jacket and ties off the end of her shirt to show her stomach, like Brittney Spears. She has no clue who Brittney is, she just tied it like that to show off her piercings. Keeps the uniform skirt, has art supplies tucked into every pocket she’s got.

Tenko: wears the boys uniform actually! All uniforms offer equal mobility and she likes that uniform better. The dress code is like non existent, so no one cares. When she’s not in class, she might wear skirts or pants, she doesn’t really care. So long as it offers good mobility for kicking degenerates. 

Korekiyo: wears the uniform and his in game outfit. Keeps the mask.

Miu: doesn’t wear the uniform, keeping her in game clothes. She also has some other clothes, almost all of which have swear words on them, or pants with things written on the seat of them. Good thing hope’s peak doesn’t have a dress code!

Gonta: gonta is a gentleman who wears the uniform with pride! 

Kokichi: now with Kokichi it depends. Most day’s he’ll wear casual clothes, like hoodies and jeans. On good days/ days he’s particularly excited, he’ll wear his Dice costume from his art. If he’s not having a good day, he’ll wear the uniform. So far the only people who have caught on to this pattern are Sonia and Shuuichi. No matter what he’s wearing his scarf. If he ever came to class without it, Shuuichi/Sonia would probably pull him out of class in a panic to ask what was wrong. Beyond that, he’s got a bunch of hair clips he’ll wear sometimes, as well as rings and bracelets. His favourite bracelet is a bunch of purple glass beads that make a satisfying noise when he shakes his hands.

Kaito: He replaced his uniform coat with his purple coat. He is always wearing that coat. He also has JAXA shirts and other space themed clothes

Kiibo: for a while he didn’t have a uniform because.. well he’s a robot he doesn’t need one. But after he told Kiyotaka he wanted one, Taka gave him one, and now he wears it a bunch! It makes him very happy. When he’s not in class though he usually doesn’t wear it since he doesn’t want it getting dirty.

Tsumugi: Tsumugi made a lot of alterations to her uniform to make it ‘cuter’. Sometimes she’ll just come to class in different uniforms for various anime characters. As someone who sometimes just wears cosplay on a normal day and who goes to cons, there is something fantastic about seeing someone in cosplay doing mundane things, and thats what Tsumugi looks like near constantly. she’d rather have other people wear them, but ‘if no one else will wear them, I will!’and it makes good advertising. Also cosplay is fun!

Maki: Joining the modified uniform gang, also with pockets for knives and things. Also has a longer skirt. She braids her hair sometimes, because I can verify from experience that hair like Maki’s would be super inconvenient and get in the way. 

Himiko: she’ll usually wear the uniform, but if she’s feeling lazy/tired/depressed, she might just come to class in pj’s. Same thing for free times.

I think that’s everyone! lemme know if I missed anything, or you’ve got thoughts/things u wanna share! Thanks for reading this all!

[jeejee-the-snek-boi]

The Urban Kraken

TMA AU

Tw: mild/moderate horror depending on tastes, drowning, facial distortion/shapeshifting/camouflage

Statement of Logan Sanders, regarding his time as a marine biologist working in Birmingham. Original statement given January 13th, 2012. Audio recording by Janus Dee, Head Archivist of the Thomas Headscape Institute, London.

Statement begins.

-

I'd recently moved to Birmingham to help out at the National Sea Life Centre. It wasn't particularly an interesting job, or even one appropriate for my level of qualification as a marine biologist, but we'd had reports of some kind of squid spotted in the local canals. There'd been otters and even dolphins who had managed to find their way into canals and rivers that would be outside of their normal habitat, so whilst a squid sounded unusual, to boot, I was naturally curious as to how it had got there. My colleague at the time- a rather very annoying yet charming man called Roman who worked in the gift shop- had warned me not to investigate. I found it… odd, to say the least. He couldn't have known much about marine biology- or, at least, I assumed he didn't, given the fact he was unable to distinguish between a shark plushie or a dolphin one, although perhaps he merely needed glasses.

I, of course, didn't heed his warnings- I had no need to, at the time, of course, although he did seem rather familiar. 

It took me a few days to realise that we had the same face, only… he wore it more expressively than I did, and he didn't seem to wear glasses either. I merely assumed it was a coincidence, or some long lost relative, so I didn't give it any thought.

I was working behind the scenes mainly, although I did occasionally try my hand at being a tour guide. I happen to have a special interest in marine life- hence my profession- so I found joy in teaching people about the animals we housed there. The children particularly liked the sharks, which wasn't a surprise to me, although it wasn't uncommon for people to label my commentary as unnecessary and boring- I tried not to let it get to me, of course, although occasionally it did.

On one such day, I found myself going for coffee on my break, where I ran into Roman. I didn't particularly mind his company, although I still found him a little odd. I knew everything about his dreams and ambitions- and he had a lot- but very little about him personally. He would talk for hours about his dreams to make it as an actor, and I gained a fair few insights of his insecurities too- the man seemed riddled with them. 

And, whilst I'll admit, none of that is particularly unusual, he'd ask everyone about their families or their kids- he made it a point to learn as much as he could about people and to include those facts in his daily interactions, but we never learned anything about him. Most people where I worked had written him off as shallow and selfish, superficial even, but I suspected differently.

 Anyway, Roman and I talked for a number of months, and I still hadn't learned a single thing about his life. I still didn't know why his face was so familiar to me until I found myself people- watching at the gift shop one day, and I noticed that, alone, his features seemed to… shift. I couldn't pinpoint what colours his eyes were, and his skin had taken on an almost… iridescent quality, if that's even the right word for it, as though he had chromatophores. It reminded me of a cuttlefish, or other cephalopod. 

I'd put it down to some form of shiny make-up, or perhaps a face mask that he'd forgotten to remove in the morning properly, and it wasn't until a few weeks later and more people watching that I finally noticed what detail I had been missing- his features seemed to shift and change to match those of each customer.

I was alarmed, of course, because there was no logical explanation as to why a human would possess such qualities.

Which… for some strange reason, drew my attention back to the so-called squid in the canals myth that had been circulating for a while now. 

There had been some… rumours circulating, asides from the existence of the squid. There'd been a few scattered suicides and cases of drunken misadventure down at the canals, a few dead bodies, all drowned. Some were intoxicated, and almost all were alone- although the time of death wasn't always at night as you might expect for a spate of murders. So, naturally, people started to link the deaths with the squid. 

I was curious, and wanted to see the squid for myself, so I spent several days observing the canal. I sat on the benches with my notebook and camera, although apart from the odd family of mallards, or a troublesome Canada goose, there was nothing in the water. I eventually concluded that there wasn't anything in the water, but now I was invested in the mystery.

The deaths were relatively spread apart, although almost all of them had been within the city centre. I observed for longer anyways, deciding instead to people watch- if there was a murderer, the murderer most likely frequented the area, although as more deaths occurred, I found myself struggling to find a connection to any particular person's commute and the times or locations of the murders.

I remembered Roman's odd ability to camouflage, although I knew his commute took him to the other side of the city.

That was… until I saw him down by the canal. He seemed to be talking to the water, so I kept myself hidden behind one of the bridges. He left, and, as far as I'm aware, didn't kill anyone. 

I took to following him after work, watching him frequently do the same thing again and again. It was… odd, but he wasn't the murderer. Although, I was beginning to suspect that, if Roman wasn't human, and was some form of… I wouldn't go as far as to call him an aquatic mammal- but sea creature, perhaps, then perhaps he was communicating with the squid. 

So the next time I visited, I brought my scuba suit. I must have looked a prat walking through the streets in scuba gear in the middle of an urban area, but I was intent on getting to the bottom of this mystery. 

It took several days before I had the courage to jump into the murky water- the amount of waste products thrown into the canals ranged from the odd box to shopping trolleys to knives- and there were a lot of knives in Birmingham- anyway, I wasn't planning to jump in just yet, until I saw a thick tentacle pull Roman into the canal.

I panicked, and dived in. I'd had experience working with squids- it was stupid of me to dive in without chain mail, given how sharp the beak of a squid can be- but I was only thinking about saving my colleague from the canal. I knew how to make the squid let go, and I intended to do that.

I couldn't see very well, but I could make out their shapes, and Roman didn't seem to be having any trouble breathing at all. The squid was half person, like a mermaid- although perhaps a little demented, but they were hugging Roman.

As soon as the squid person- for comedic purposes, I'd named them squidward- noticed my presence, I attempted to swim away, although they grabbed me before I could do so.

I was sure I was going to die, so I squeezed my eyes shut- only to find myself being pulled to the squid person's chest in a hug. It was… strange, to say the least, and awkward. But soon, the squid person let go of me and allowed me to swim away. Roman joined me, although he seemed reluctant to look me in the eye. 

I confronted Roman, who explained to me that the squid person was his brother, Remus- or, more accurately, his sort of twin. The two had once been one being, but both had very different desires- Roman wanted to live on land, whilst Remus was content in the water- so they had simply… split, into two.

I asked about the deaths, and Roman explained that Remus didn't understand that humans couldn't breathe in the water. He was lonely, and whenever he saw somebody else lonely, he wanted to hug them. They usually drowned, and Roman didn't have the heart to tell him that they had died.

I… went back, in my scuba suit, and kept Remus company with Roman for the best part of six months- and the deaths diminished greatly. Of course, we couldn't keep it up forever, so we had to find a way to help Remus to understand that humans couldn't breathe. We didn't find a way, so I came up with a solution. 

Roman had quite a bit of money saved up, and the two of us had become… close, to say the least, if the evenings spent in his apartment were anything to go by, so we brought ourselves a patch of land up in the Yorkshire Dales, and dug up one of the fields entirely. We made a pool, a deep pool, and I borrowed one of the moving tanks from the aquarium and we transported Remus up to his new home. 

He loves it there, content to splash about, and free to hug Roman and I without fear of drowning anyone. And Roman and I managed to hold down our jobs back in Birmingham thanks to rail travel, even if the long commute was taxing, at times, and eventually decided to get married.

I decided to submit my story to the archives to keep a document of the existence of such creatures, and to put word out that they are not harmful and are not to be killed.

-

My initial reaction would be to discredit this statement as a rather elaborate prank, but nonetheless I had my colleague Virgil do some digging, and he found that Logan Sanders had a doctorate in marine biology from Oxford University. He did work, and still does work, at the Sea Life Centre in Birmingham city centre, and was willing to talk to us again. Virgil requested pictures, which Logan was happy to provide us with, so I had Patton check to see if the photographs are real. Again, the photographs checked out, and Logan and Roman allowed us to visit. After said visit, I can confirm that the squid man, and indeed Roman's cuttlefish-like camouflage, are more than just urban myths.

Recording ends.

@needscaffeine @patton-birdie @sanderssideburns

Anyone can ask to be tagged! Tagging you guys because

1. Mutual

2. I sent an anon ask and you said I could tag you!

3. Bae

[starwriterulia]

A Fervid Greeting

Chapter Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 7260

Chris was watching the bacon and eggs cook as Seungmin and Changbin quietly watched TV when he heard his cell phone ring. He picked it up from the counter. Seeing the contact name and number, he answered. "Chris Bang speaking."

"Morning, Chris." Said police chief Jinyoung Park. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

"No, sir. What's happening?"

"If you tune into the news, you can find out. I recorded it for you, so you don't have to turn on the TV and wait for them to repeat the message."

"Well," Chris looked over his shoulder. "A couple of the boys are watching a show right now, so that was awfully kind of you."

Jinyoung laughed. "I'm sending it to you now. I expect you boys to be at the station by seven."

"That shouldn't be a problem, sir."

"Good. See you then, Double Knock."

"Until then, sir." Chris ended the call, then stuffed his phone into his jeans. He turned around to face the living room and felt his phone vibrate; Chief Jinyoung had sent the video. "Changbin, Seungmin!" They glanced at their leader.

"Breakfast is ready. Come and fix your plates while I wake up Felix and Hyunjin. We need to be at city hall by seven." Said Chris.

"What happened?" Asked Changbin, stopping at the part of the counter closest to the living room as Chris came closer and Seungmin passed them to enter the kitchen.

"I don't know, but it's on the news." Chris paused beside the couch. Seungmin was busy making his plate. "Though, the chief did just send me a video of the news report." Chris took out his phone, swiped to view the message, and held it out.

Changbin took it. "Thanks, hyung."

"Don't mention it. Be right back." Chris said, and Changbin nodded. Changbin set down the phone on the island and took a plate from the overhead cupboards as Seungmin sat at the island and played the video. Chris left the living room and skidded across the antiqued brown wooden floor that was also in the kitchen and upstairs hallway.

Unlike the white drywall of the entrance and upstairs areas, the living room had wallpaper that was red like a wilted rose and patterned like the fur of a tabby cat. Its carpet was tawny brown, and matching light absorbing curtains were distributed in every room of the house. The only other rooms that had carpet were the bedrooms, studio and dojo. The doors of Bang Manor were simple: white with silver door knobs. But the black front door had an elegant, translucent window arch at its top. Matching window panels were on either side of that door.

Chris grasped the wooden handrail that matched the floor. The banisters were black metal rods, the newels the same wood as the handrail. He jogged up and walked to the first door on his left. Chris knocked before entering and heard Felix mewl. Chris flicked on the light and watched the boy pull himself up and stretch his arms with a silent yawn.

The bedroom was full of stuffed animals of every size and smelled of laundry and Doritos, its walls white except for one. Most of the plushies were squished into the hammock that hung from the far left corner of the room and stretched across the far wall, while others were on the bookshelf that had no books, it and the closet with folding doors on the right wall, and more were on the floor near his bed. His bedding was black, the pillows and underside of the blanket crimson red. The wall his bed was horizontal to had a mural of a fiery plain with a mountain of gold and jewels surrounded by burning forest. A flaming sword stuck out from the treasure, and fiery lightning rained upon the scene from black clouds speckled with embers.

"Time to wake up, Felix. We've got a meeting at city hall in an hour. There's eggs and bacon in the kitchen. Changbin has my phone, so you can catch up on what's happening." Chris said.

"OK. Thanks." The boy mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Chris left the room, closing the door behind him. He continued rightwards and knocked on the third and final door on that side of the hall before opening the door and turning on the light.

Hyunjin's bedroom walls were white, and the farthest had black illustrations depicting a red eyed figure sitting at the edge of a rooftop, looking onto the city below. An identical figure stalked a lanky figure with yellow eyes wielding a bloody knife. Finally, the red eyed man stood above the crumpled body of the skinny man, the assassin's dripping red hidden blade visible from his left sleeve. Blood spilled from the corpse and splattered onto the wall, which was patterned like brick. Above these scenes was a mantra in red: I am not blind.

There was a shrine to the right side of the room with framed pictures of each of the Stray Kids, along with a closet with folding doors. The five white candles were unlit, and the tea cup was empty, spare for the specks of leaves. Chris smelled the mirth Hyunjin had burned and Hyunjin's scent of lemongrass. His bedding was black but wasn't as cozy looking as Felix's, the pillowcases striped black and white. Hyunjin let out a whine as he stirred.

"Hyunjin, we have to be at city hall in an hour. There's breakfast in the kitchen, and the Chief sent me a video of what's going on you can look at with Felix." Said Chris.

"OK, I'm coming." Replied Hyunjin. Chris nodded, then left the bedroom and closed the door. He went downstairs and heard Felix's door open. Felix, in a loose orange shirt and black pyjama pants, crossed the hall to the bathroom between Chris' and Changbin's rooms. The second bathroom was through the first door on the right wall of the living room, the studio and dojo doors following it, to the left.

As he passed through the living room, Chris saw the television had been turned off. Chris ran a hand along the arm of the black couch. The loveseat and recliner matched the couch, but the recliner was made of leather. The coffee table had a black wooden frame with a foggy glass surface. He observed the picture in a simple black frame that was above the electric fireplace, behind the loveseat and recliner. Posed formally in their hero suits with mayor Brandon Gorge and the police chief before a blue backdrop were the Stray Kids.

Chris recalled how nervous they were before they were declared heroes with real powers instead of vigilantes with gimmicks up their sleeves. He remembered how they cried on the nights leading up to that day, afraid they would be falsely accused and imprisoned just for acting upon what came naturally to them. There wasn't even a court hearing: just a meeting at the city hall where the press was allowed an audience. While there were negative opinions, the general outlook of the public was loud enough for the city officials to properly analyse the evidence in front of them. This morning had a similar atmosphere, even though Chris hadn't seen the news report.

Changbin and Seungmin sat at the island. They each had a glass of orange juice. Chris met Changbin's eyes as he walked in. "Chan, this is pretty serious." Changbin said, tapping the cellphone that was face up on the counter. "You should really have a look at this."

"I will, Changbin." Replied Chris. "Let me fix my plate, and I'll do just that." Changbin gave a nod and stuffed his face with more bacon as Chan walked over and got a plate. He served himself, then sat beside Changbin and ate while he unlocked his phone and played the video.

The news anchor greeted the viewers and stated it was 6:00 o'clock, February 8, 2020. She said they would begin the news hour with breaking news. Residents of the Elizabeth Apartments had reported sounds of distress from the room next door to police around 3:15, that morning. (Chris heard Hyunjin come downstairs and briefly watched him enter the bathroom.) The victim was twenty year old Faith Lawson and the suspect her boyfriend, twenty one year old Han Jisung.

The neighbors who reported the kidnapping said the following to their news correspondent, some time after police arrived. (Felix entered the kitchen and said 'good morning'. Changbin and Seungmin answered him.) A middle aged husband and wife were shown with the male reporter outside of the apartments. (Felix got his plate and began to put food on it.)

The woman said they were awakened by Faith's sudden screaming. They heard Jisung tell Faith that she should 'Be still and quiet, and it won't be so bad.'. The husband said that they heard the couple having intercourse, the night before. (Hyunjin came out of the bathroom and walked into the kitchen and greeted the boys, who responded. He got a plate and filled it as Felix sat beside Seungmin.)

When the reporter asked if Faith and Jisung had ever fought, the husband and wife said 'no', that they seemed like a normal, happy couple. (Hyunjin took the empty stool beside Felix.) The video cut back to the newsroom. She said that the police had released censored photos of the crime scene and surveillance footage. She gave a graphic violence warning, then the video was played.

The camera in the lobby caught Jisung finishing his flight down the stairs, Faith over his shoulder. She was bound at her wrists and ankles with zip ties. Her forehead bled, an excessively large black bar edited to cover her wound. A copper coloured metal device with a detailed, key-like handle kept her mouth open. The outdoor camera showed a loitering black car. The driver opened the back door on the passenger side, then Jisung forced Faith in the backseat before entering behind her as slamming the door shut as the car sped away.

The reporter was shown again. She said that the car had arrived just minutes before Jisung was recorded fleeing the crime scene. The license plate of the vehicle had been captured, but the car hadn't been found. The screen swiped left to shows list of information about the car, driver, suspect and victim. Along with information already stated in the report, the woman said that the driver wore a copper coloured mask with an upside down cone shape carved into the forehead.

The anchor announced they would now show the photos. The scene was in the bedroom, the focus on the bed. The bedding was a mess, blood, saliva and urine on the sheets and pillows. The reporter said that police theorized that Jisung had woken Faith and struck her head with the device that was seen gagging her. The anchor stated that if anyone had any information on where the vehicle or Jisung had been after the kidnapping to contact the police as the number was shown at the bar at bottom of the screen. Then the video ended.

Chris blew hot air through his lips. "I'm surprised how much information the police released, but I guess they did it to warn the public." Seungmin and Hyunjin nodded, humming. "That's fucking scary." Everyone nodded and gave noises of agreement.

"Do you mind if I watch it again?" Asked Hyunjin. "I didn't see all of it."

"Of course." Chris answered, and pushed his phone into Hyunjin's hand. He played if again, Felix looking over to watch too. While the video played again, Seungmin rose from his stool, carried his plate to the sink and washed it.

"I wonder if this Jisung guy has a criminal record?" Pondered Seungmin.

"I guess we'll find out, when we get there." Replied Chris.

"He doesn't look like a criminal, at least." Commented Felix.

"That doesn't say anything about him, personality wise." Hyunjin said, as Seungmin seated himself again and Changbin rose to wash his plate. "Lots of bad people look unsuspicious."

"You make a point."

"Obviously, there's more going on than a simple kidnapping." Said Seungmin. "Whatever he used to subdue Faith with, it's some kind of medieval torture device."

"Yep yep," Replied Chris. "But it's nearly impossible to tell what it is, since we've only seen in use."

"I doubt the police have any guesses, either." Changbin said, returning to his chair. "And since we don't know where the car is, we'll have a harder time tracking them down."

"All we can do is find out what else the police know and do our best to find these guys and get Faith out of danger before it's too late." Chris said, and the other boys nodded. Soon enough, they all finished eating. Hyunjin volunteered to wash the dishes, so the boys went upstairs and into their room to change. While Seungmin's room was the third on the right side, Changbin's was first on the left and Chris' the second.

Chris' room had white walls, the left having posters of the Stray Kids illustrated like comic book characters by artists from a big comic book company. Individual portraits and group shots were scattered around the wall in an appealing way. Chris always chuckled when he looked upon certain posters. He had a lot of plushies in his his room, though not nearly as many as Felix had. They were neatly displayed on a bookshelf that had some books, the shelf on the wall opposite of the poster wall. Chris' bed was vertical to the far wall, the closet next to the shelf.

Chris opened his closet and took his suit from within. He removed his steel blue pyjama top and black pyjama pants that had thin white lines to make a checked pattern. Chris stepped into the matte charcoal one-piece spandex enforced with a thin layer of cotton for comfort and a cowl collar. The pitch black kneepads and elbow guards were enforced with steel-every members' gear was. The biceps, thighs and each side of the rib cage had three glossy black, diagonal strips of fake alligator skin tipped like spikes.

Chris brought out his gauntlets, which were made with glossy black leather and had steel knuckles and backside. The gloves had the stripes from the one-piece, except these looped around to the bottom. Chris took out and put on a black leather belt that had two pouches on either side. Its buckle was matte silver and had the letters DKC in black. Chris found his black leather boots, which came up to the middle of his shins, had a polished finish and had steel toes and soles. The bottom of the shoes had very good grips and were well padded, so Chris was able to be sneaky, despite the steel components. Finally, Chris put on his black leather cape that went a couple of inches past his knees and was tied to the collar of his costume with a lumberman's knot.

Chris exited his bedroom and saw Felix's bedroom door was halfway open. He saw Changbin behind the younger boy, helping an audibly struggling Felix zip up his black leather, full length sleeved shirt with a straight band collar. Felix had black leather pants held up by a black leather belt with a simple golden buckle with a pouch on the back, and kneepads. He had black leather shoes with half inch heels and steel toes and black leather fingerless gloves with his palms exposed.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Cried Felix, reaching a hand back and bending backwards a little.

"Well, if you stopped moving every time I move the zipper a milometer, you wouldn't be in pain and I could actually do this, today! Aish!" Changbin bickered. "Now straighten up." Felix complied, still whining.

"I should be able to do this in one go if..." Changbin jerked at the zipper, grunting. Felix continued to whimper, and cringed up his face. "If... argh, come on."

"Changbin," Chris said, walking into the room as Changbin and Felix watched him come in. "Let me take care of it."

"Yes, thank you." Changbin said, stepping aside, shaking out his hands. His costume had a waist length cape over his right shoulder that was white with a royal blue underside. It had a golden stripe along the edge and was attached to Changbin by an elastic strap under his arm. His long sleeved blouse with a Peter Pan collar and his harem pants were royal blue with white cuffs, the shirt's buttons and the two decorative buttons on the crotch white. He wore white leather boots with a golden stripe over the folded top parts of the shoes.

Chris came up behind Felix and grabbed onto the zipper. "OK, when I say 'three', suck in your guts."

"Wait, won't my shirt rip when I breathe out?" Felix replied, looking over his shoulder with doe eyes.

"If your powers are still working, no." Chris laughed, and so did Felix and Changbin. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"OK: one... two... three!" Zip! Pop, crack!

"Aw," Felix said, right hand on his left shoulder as he rolled the joint and turned to look at his hyungs. "Did you guys hear that?"

Changbin and Chris chuckled, nodding. Chris said, "We did, yeah. You feeling alright, 'lix?"

"Yeah," Felix nodded. "I'm good. Ouch."

"Your breathing feels OK?"

"Yeah, feels fine, mate."

"OK, good!" Chris patted Felix's left shoulder, and Felix flinched, contorting his expression in reaction. "Sorry."

"You're fine..."

"Come on." Chris said, nodding to the exit. Felix gave a small nod as he and Changbin followed Chris out. Chris almost ran into Hyunjin, who was busy fiddling with the white cloth wrappings beneath his fingerless, black leather gloves. They jumped as Hyunjin's forearm brushed Chris'. Changbin and Felix stopped for a moment to take it what happened before continuing.

"Whoa! Sorry, Hyunjin." Said Chris, subconsciously raising his hand to gesture.

"It's fine, hyung." Hyunjin replied. "I wasn't looking where I was going." Hyunjin wore a sleeveless black shirt with a very low tuxedo collar that exposed the middle of his chest. It didn't take much movement for his nipples and toned but flat belly to be exposed. He wore black tights, black knee pads each with a tiny, four pointed white star, a belt with three pouches on his right hip, a jedok geom and dan geom with black handles on the other, and lightweight, all black slip-on shoes.

Chris massaged Hyunjin's shoulder. "Ah, it's fine. Come on." Hyunjin nodded, then followed Chris downstairs. He heard Seungmin leave his room as they went. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Chris looked back to watch Seungmin descend.

His costume consisted of a plum purple jumpsuit with long sleeves and gold cuffs, and a cape that ended halfway down his back. The cape was held by a clasp shaped like a hickory brown clover outlined in gold, and hickory brown slip-on shoes. Seeing that Hyunjin was on his way, Chris proceeded to lead the group outside. They walked left, to the garage attached to the house. "Why are we going to the garage from outside instead of from the dojo?" Seungmin asked.

Chris laughed. "Oh yeah." Hyunjin and Felix laughed. "Oh well! We're outside now." They arrived at the garage door and Chris pressed the button on his keychain to open it. When it was up just enough, they ducked under it and dashed to the black van with their logo on both sides.

"It's so dark in here." Said Felix. Chris unlocked the car, and it honked as its headlights flashed.

As everyone climbed inside the vehicle, Seungmin said, "Aren't you basically—?"

"—Oh yeah." The car rumbled with laughter as the doors were closed and the boys buckled up.

"Man, you really aren't a morning person, are you, Felix?" Said Hyunjin, as Chris started the engine.

"No," Felix shook his head, still smiling. "I'm really not."

Chris pulled out of the garage as Changbin ruffled Felix's hair. Felix gave a cry of protest and reached for his hand. Even though Felix had it, Changbin didn't let up. "Ah, but you're still cute."

"Stooop, oh my God." Felix playfully thrashed in his seat, kicking Seungmin's seat.

"Ah! You stop!" Seungmin shouted, reaching back to swipe at Felix's legs. As the Kids laughed, Felix pulled back his legs and swiped back.

                                                         —

Chris pulled into the curb in front of the police station. The lawn was littered with news reporters and camera men. "Oh yeah, the press is here."

"Of course they would be," Said Hyunjin, rather cheerfully. "This is the first time the city has called us for something like this."

Seungmin hummed. "The last time we came here under these kind of circumstances, we were finding out if we'd be allowed to be heroes, or not."

"We'd better get out there, guys." Chris said, turning off the ignition. "Let's go." The group left the van, Chris locking it once he saw everyone was out. Chris led the group up the gradual incline of the staircase, Changbin first behind him with the younger three close behind.

"Mr. Bang!" "Double Knock, sir!" "Excuse me, Mr. Bang!" The shouting voices of the reporters flooded the boys' ears as they marched forward. "Do you have any information about the suspect or his victim?" "Mr. Bang, do you have any insight on the case or the suspect's motive?" "Sir, do you believe that Stray Kids should be allowed to freely defend the city, as they currently do?"

The Kids weren't obligated to answer. In fact, they were legally prohibited from making any statement to the public without consent from the city. That didn't mean Chris didn't want to answer. He wanted to respond so they would stop asking the same questions time and again, but he couldn't, and that was just something he had to accept. It wasn't just to save face for the city or the police, it was to save face for the boys and to make sure no false information would be released. The media had been told this, four months ago, yet acted that their questions could be answered, or needed to be answered. It was one of the frustrating things about the job, and, today, it took a bit of effort for the boys to mute their voices.

The quintet were a little more than halfway to the doors of the building when Chris felt off. He stopped and looked among the crowd for something to click. "Chan hyung?" Said Hyunjin.

"Who... who called..." Chris muttered, Hyunjin and Changbin only hearing him because of how close they were to him.

"Who called what?" Changbin asked.

"That voice, where is...?" Chris' eyes flared open ever so slightly as he found a familiar face. "Minho." The boys easily found the handsome face of the man in the mint blue and white suit and held their breaths. His normally brown eyes were blood red and continually released a scentless black smoke.

"What are you doing here?" Asked Chris. The voices and movements of the reporters fell to a hush as he spoke.

"Who is he talking to?" Inquired a woman.

"Ha, he is a madman!" Exclaimed a male. "Go check into a mental ward, ya fucking lawless degen—"

"Hush!" Barked Hyunjin. "Let our leader do his job, please!"

"I don't know how you're making it so only we can see you," Chris said. A couple people murmured in wonder and doubt. "But I sure as hell know you're treading thin waters, Minho."

Minho drew out his breath as he inhaled through his teeth. To the surprise of the heroes, they were stained black. The smell of burned flesh slapped everyone within five feet instantly. The press reacted with nauseous expressions and sounds, stepping back or turning away to cough and hold in vomit. The Kids also turned to recover, but Chris swallowed the unfurling knot in his stomach and kept eye contact with Minho, refusing to show any sign of weakness to the serial killer.

"He's actually here?" A reporter said, her volume slightly lower than normal.

"Holy shit, what kind of power is this?!" Cried a male.

"Do you want me to answer what I'm doing here, or the secret to my new trick?"

"Why are you here, Minho?" Demanded Chris.

Minho gave a small smile and folded his hands in front of his abdomen. "Faith is alive. Jisung and I would love to—" Suddenly, the doors to the hall opened. Minho paused and let his hands fall to his side. Everyone watched the mayor and police chief come outside with a handful of officers.

Brandon had a friendly face and build and had a mauve tie with his light grey suit. Jinyoung looked familiar to a lot of people, but no one could quite put their finger on whom. He donned an all grey suit and his tie was matte silver. They had barely taken two steps when Jinyoung saw what what happening and put his arm in front of Brandon. The mayor stumbled back a bit, then gave a small gasp upon seeing what was before him. One of the officers whispered in Jinyoung's ear and received order 10-23.

"Hello, Mr. Gorge, Mr. Park." Greeted Minho, with a small wave. "Do I have permission to finish my explanation, or must I leave before I spill the wine necessary for the vines to grow?" Chris quirked an eyebrow and looked among his members, who also looked a bit puzzled.

Brandon and Jinyoung looked at each other. Brandon nodded. A moment later, so did Jinyoung. The police chief answered, "Go on, Minho. You have our attention."

"Thank you. So!" Minho clapped his hands, then folded his hands again. "Jisung and I would love to meet you boys at the asylum, at 3:53 PM: no sooner, no later. If you open those doors early or one minute past the designated time, the ritual will not only fail and make the core of the Earth expand to the point of destroying the planet!" Minho laughed for two seconds, then his laughter cut short. "I'm kidding."

Chris said, "I was going to say, Minho—"

"—Ah ah ah!" Minho wiggled his finger warningly. "There will still be a dire consequence for an early or late entry!"

"And what is that?"

"We'll be so upset that we can't free our girlfriend that we'll light the entire city on fire!" Minho flung his arms out side with a broad smile.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously." Minho nodded. "Anyway," He sang, and ran a hand through his hair. "That's all you need to know."

"We expect the angels to show up and try to stop us. You'll probably see one within minutes of coming inside, and they'll probably help you, or at least try. We'll see. It'll be fun." He wiggled the fingers of one hand. "Have fun at the meeting, boys! Bye now!"

Minho threw his head back. Chris instinctively reached out, even though he didn't know what to expect. Minho fell backwards as a fiery magic circle appeared in the stone stairs with a deafening bang like a rife had been fired. The crowd screamed, cowered and flinched. Some of the police did, too.

The Kids looked surprised but were able to find strength by looking at each other. Seungmin noticed the circle didn't erase the steps but wrapped around them and decided to remember that. A plethora of frostbitten arms with clawed fingers grabbed Minho and quickly pulled him through like he was a doll made of cloth. The circle disappeared with a bang, leaving no trace behind. More shrieks were given at the sound. As the people recovered, Chris turned his attention to the mayor and chief. His confident gaze was mirrored by Jinyoung.

"Come on, Kids." Said Jinyoung, directing their eyes to him. Nodding and shivering, the five quietly left the press alone.

                                                          —

Three watchtowers and small officer stations at their feet were lined up thirty feet apart in the middle of the Ocean, the one hundred by eighty foot lot that connected the four wings. They had female names in an attempt to make the asylum less dreary to inmates and visitors. The Ocean was boxed in by twenty feet tall, unpainted stone walls with steel walkways leading from one wing to the other. Steel stairs were in each corner. Six flower boxes of white and purple hyacinths were lined up outside the facilities and security stations. The boxes were blanketed in snow, but parts of the flowers peeked out from the cold powder.

Alicia was located east, serving as the residential and intensive care centre. She had three floors, the third being the underground intensive care level. Her ash white exterior was lined with vibrant red paint along the top and bottom, her roof grey. The clock tower in the left part of her body showed it was 3:48 in Roman numerals, a guarded platform below thirty feet above the ground. There was also a patrol on the level roof beside the clock.

Eva, the medical ward, was west. She looked identical to Alicia but had no clock tower and only had two floors. Sara, the entrance and parking lot, was north. The stone wall had a small weakness in the electric gate, but in case of an emergency, with the press of a button, three rows of spiked metal poles would thrust up from the ground. This security measure had yet to have been used, but it had been tested with a dummy driver and proven to be a viable asset.

Maria, the graveyard and garden, was south. There was no stone wall or electric fence where Maria met the Atlantic. The graveyard was neatly laid out to the west, the wooden benches and wide flowerbeds of more hyacinths to the east. There were ten headstones: four names belonged to patients from the first floor, and three belonged to patients from the second floor. Two belonged to stillborn children, though one hadn't been given a name but still had the name of her mother inscribed, and the tenth was that of the inmate who had murdered the three.

The police and Stray Kids had gathered at the asylum at two o'clock. Hyunjin was throwing his dan geom at a sandbag near Alicia and pulling it back with the white glow of his powers. One could tell that his speed was a little faster than the pair of watching officers' eyes could keep up with. "Uh, that's 471...?" Said an officer whose surname was Walker, hesitantly.

"475," Hyunjin politely corrected, pausing his exercise with the weapon in his hand to look at him. "But you were close."

"It's getting awfully close to 3:53." Said the other officer, Bridges, gazing up at the clock as Hyunjin resumed his practice.

Walker nodded. "That it is. I wonder if Chief Park is going to call one last meeting to go over everything, again."

Hyunjin replied, "Probably not. We're playing with time and demons, here."

"That's true enough." Walker nodded. Hyunjin caught his dan geom and sheathed it in one motion.

"I'm going to wait for the guys by the door." Said Hyunjin, resting his hands on his hips and looking from one man to the other, his eyes also drifting to the dozen officers standing by the doors. "Thanks for staying to watch, guys. Even if it got boring, after one hundred."

They both laughed. Bridges said, "Don't mention it, Ghost. We'll walk with you." Some ten feet behind them, Chris was delivering blows to the bags three officers were holding, alternating targets and how he attacked.

He brought up one leg in a jump kick and pushed himself off the sac with the other, the officer who held the bag staggering as Chris was launched across the ways and landing ten quick stomps to the second bag, switching from foot to foot. The officer who held this bag was the best built of his peers, but he still needed to plant himself firmly into the ground to avoid being blown back at least five feet from Chris' power. Chris landed with a thump that had less impact on the beaten up earth because he wasn't wearing his own boots. His momentum boosted him rightwards, to the third bag. He pulled back his arms and whacked it upwards with his left arm, immediately followed by his right to make a 'double knot'.

With a choked laugh, the man who held this bag stepped around a bit. "Oof!"

"You alright, Shorts?" Chris asked, relaxing his posture and rolling his right shoulder.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. What a rush, ha ha ha!"

"Glad you're still having fun." Chris smiled and patted his left shoulder. "You sure you don't want to switch out?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I've only been here fifteen minutes, I can keep going."

"Daren," Said Johnson, the officer with the second bag. "You really should take a break." He looked behind him. "It's getting real close to that time, anyway."

Chris turned to look at the clock with the officers and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, damn! Guess it's time to gather everyone."

Shorts gave a nod to Alicia. "Ghost is already ahead of you." Chris and the other two men looked in her direction. Hyunjin gave Chris a wave, and Chris waved back.

"That he is!"

The third officer, Island, said, "Chief Park will probably call everyone over, in a mo—"

"This if Chief Park to all officers in the DCA: please alert the Stray Kids to gather at the door and proceed to said destination. Two minutes and thirty seconds until entry. Over."

"Yep." Said Johnson.

"Walk with us, Double Knock?" Said Island.

Chris gave a nod. "Of course." The four started their short walk and blended into Hyunjin and the two officers. "All warmed up, Hyunjin?" He nodded. "Good, good." Chris turned to watch out for whoever came next.

Seungmin and Changbin jogged over, Chief Jinyoung close behind with eight officers. Chris looked around the yard for Felix and scarcely saw him leap from the steel platform from the nearest watchtower and land hands first, the boy bounding forth like a cat until he was somewhat close to the others and then standing, shaking out his arms a little. "You alright, Felix?" Inquired Chris.

"Yeah, I'm fine. That wasn't too high of a jump." Felix responded. Chris nodded.

"All right," The voice of the Chief drew everyone's attention. "I don't have time to go over every part of this operation in detail, but I don't need to. Remember to check your surroundings and be prepared to make split second decisions. So long as you follow protocol and keep your heads on your shoulders, all should go well, and, ideally, there should be no casualties."

"It is likely there will be casualties, but it is our mission to minimize those numbers and save not just the patients and staff of the asylum, who are on lockdown, but to save the city from the evil threatening to burst from the schemes of Minho and Jisung. I'll be waiting out here, but know that I, along with every citizen of our city, will be with you in spirit." Jinyoung looked to an officer beside him. "Marley, how much time until 'go'?"

"Twenty-three, twenty-one, twenty..." Counted the man, who held a cellphone. With amazing efficiency, the Stray Kids moved to the front of the mass, the police force behind them in four full columns and a fifth column that had vacant one spot. They marched forward, Marley walking behind them to continue his task. "Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."

Chris felt a pair of eyes staring at him and found the wavering eyes of Seungmin. "Ten, nine..." Chris discreetly moved his hand over Seungmin's and gently tapped his skin. "Eight, seven..." Seungmin swallowed and fumbled his fingers until he held Chris' hand.

"We'll be OK, Seungmin-ie, I promise." Chris muttered. His voice swayed the interest of the other Kids. Seungmin sniffled and nodded. Hyunjin stood on the other side of Seungmin, and he rubbed Seungmin's arm.

"Three, two, one, zero." Marley glanced up from the phone and nodded once to Chris. "Negative one—"

"Go, go!" Shouted Chief Jinyoung. Not wasting time, the group strode forward and entered the asylum. The decently decorated lobby had sky blue walls, a tacky grey carpet and cheap cushioned chairs. The secretary, like all staff outside of medical and security, had already evacuated. The far end of the room were glass sliding doors, emergency steel doors retracted into the wall.

As the force went through the doors and began to pass the huge holding cell on their left, a voice came from the radios of the officers. "Dispatch to Adam, Boy, Charles and David: the city has not caught fire. Repeat: the city has not caught fire. Over."

"That's the immediate danger out of the way, good." Said Chris with a heavy sigh, ensuring his voice could be heard by at least those directly behind him. The holding cell had steel white bars and benches against the far wall and mats on the concrete floor, which continued outside of the cell. The walkway to the white door at the end of the room had several windows that looked into the cafeteria on the right wall.

"What's the time?" Asked Changbin, who was to the right of Chris. Felix was at Changbin's right.

Alley, a female from the second row, answered, "3:53:42, forty-three..."

"It's still too early to be sure that the city is safe." Said Russell, a man from the fourth row.

"I agree." Replied Chris, the other boys and some of the men nodding. It took group about twenty-five seconds to arrive at the door. They stopped, and Seungmin stepped up to the door. He pressed his hands and his left ear to its surface.

"Clear." Seungmin stated. He stepped back into line and Chris took his place to open the door. He had almost put his hand on the doorknob when a spider leapt through the window, its bristles roughly touching Chris' right cheek. The spider flew over Chris' shoulder and landed on the ground.As several officers gasped and began to raise their handguns, only to realize it was just a spider, Chris pivoted and saw the tarantula wasn't moving.

"It's dead?" Chris said, questioningly.

Seungmin nodded. "Tarantulas can't survive long falls. They get hurt even if dropped from a foot high. Though some species are more aggressive, it is mostly because they are Old World species or because of mood. They are mostly harmless. Their bites can hurt, but..." He shook his head and crossed his arms. "They require humid habitats. How did this spider get here?"

"The Devil, probably." Answered Addison, an officer from the fifth row, and a handful of them laughed.

"That's probably not far from the truth, actually." Seungmin said, bobbing his head. He made eye contact with Chris. "Allow me to examine its corpse, before we move on."

"Of course, go ahead." Chris said, nodding. Seungmin gave a nod in response before kneeling before the creature. He gingerly poked it with a finger and sharply held his breath. His breath shuddered, and he swallowed loudly. "Seungmin?" The boy's torso jolted, his eyes whipping up to Chris' and then relaxing. "Talk to us, please."

"S-Sure. This is a South American Pink Toe." Seungmin carefully picked up the spider and turned it over in his hands as he got to his feet. He looked at his peers while speaking. "Its pink colour darkens into maturity, and they live from seven to nine years."

"They are arboreal, meaning they live in trees. This gave them the name Antilles tree spider. They grow up to six inches, and this adult female is five inches. I noticed a strong magical presence from it, when it came through the window. It's gone now, but it stayed long enough for me to intercept how the sender felt, when it was created." Seungmin's eyes lowered. "It was Faith..."

"Wait, that means Jisung and Minho have already changed her." Felix said. "They've already won. So was the whole 3:53 PM thing just to lure us in?"

"Probably, yeah."

"It might not mean they've won, Felix." Said Changbin. "Just that they've done enough to make her able to do this." He pointed at the spider.

"What did you feel when you touched the spider, Seungmin-ie?" Asked Chris.

"Intense throbbing pain where my jaw starts." Seungmin rubbed beneath his ears. "My tongue felt alienated and cold, like it had nothing around it. It felt like I had been crying for hours. I felt so helpless, so small and weak, unable to do anything but obey."

"I'd like to find one of these alive, but I doubt I'll be that lucky. I feel as if something is hiding in our little friend." Seungmin turned his head to Felix. "Felix, would you mind—?" Felix widened his eyes and shook his head. Seungmin, Felix and Hyunjin laughed. Chris and Changbin joined, a few of the officers chuckling along.

"I'll do it, Seungmin." Hyunjin said, stepping closer and withdrawing his dan geom. He cautiously sliced open the spider, from its abdomen to its chelicerae. Its blood colour was normal, but scentless black smoke accompanied the liquid. When Hyunjin and Seungmin saw the smoke, their eyes flew open. Hyunjin took a hasteful step back, and Seungmin quickly put the spider down, keeping his face as far away from the spider as he could.

"I don't smell anything wrong with the smoke." Felix commented, shaking his head. "I do see something that looks an awful lot like a crystal in the front part of its body, though."

"Do you want to get it?" Asked Seungmin. Felix froze up for a second, then shook his head. "I thought so." Seungmin crouched before the tarantula and carefully picked into its body with his fingers to extract the white object. He held it in two of his fingers and rolled it between them. "It sure feels like a real crystal."

"Lemme see." Felix said, coming over to Seungmin, who moved the item into his palms. Felix touched it with one finger and rolled it around Seungmin's palm a little. "Yep, that's a real crystal. I'd ask if I could keep it, but I don't wanna be cursed, or something."

"I do feel a faint magical aura from it," Seungmin said. "But it doesn't feel malicious. If anything, it feels malevolent. Might even be lucky. You can keep it on you for now if you want, Felix."

"Cool." Felix took the crystal and stored it in his pouch. He quietly added, "Yay!" Hearing him, Seungmin chuckled.

"OK, let's move on." Said Chris, as Seungmin stooped down and got a small plastic bag from one of his pouches. He shimmied the tarantula into it as everyone but Hyunjin moved on, and sealed the bag before standing, placing the spider in a different pocket before jogging to catch up with Hyunjin. Chris waited for them at the door, the officers acting upon their order to divide and investigate both ways the hall went. When they passed through, Chris began to pull the door closed, but was shocked to feel the door slam itself.

"Well, that can't be good." Said Chris. Hyunjin and Seungmin laughed. "Come on, this way." He nodded to his right, and they hurried to return to the front of their group.

Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

[hoefortomhoelland]

Red Queen | KOH!Tom X Mob!Reader Part 1

Pairing: Koh!Tom x Mob!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Mentions of violence

Word count: 2,454

Since 2012, you were the leader of a dangerous mafia that was left in your hands after the death of your father. Your mother didn’t want to be involved and as you were an only child, this was in your hands. 

“Did you even hear a word of what I just said?” Your right-hand woman asked over the speaker of your phone. Groaning, you took yourself off mute and set your phone down on your en-suite counter.

“Yes, Liv.” You sighed as you leaned across the sink and slid in your dangling diamond earrings.

“Please repeat then, because I know for sure that you were on mute that whole time and were barely listening.”

“Olivia, you’re my partner not my fucking boss.” You mumbled with annoyance at your best friend, knowing that in fact you were the boss.

“Well I’m just trying to help you.” She replied as you popped your lips a couple times after adding another layer of dark red lipstick to match your ruby red dress. 

“I don’t need any fucking help. I’ve been in the mafia business since I was fourteen and I haven’t missed a single shot or messed up any of my plans. What makes you think you can help me?”

“You mean mine, right?”

“Huh?” You questioned.

“My plans. You haven’t messed up any of my plans.” Olivia corrected.

“Yeah sure.” You briefly replied as you moved the slit in your dress and clipped your holster to the strap that was attached to your upper thigh. It held three switchblades and a handgun that your father had personalized for you when you were fourteen.

“Alright, well do you have your earpiece in?” Olivia asked wearily as you reached into your purse to fish out the earpiece she was talking about. You inspected it before discarding it on the counter.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Good. I need you to have it in, okay? I need to make sure you’re alive and well.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Olivia. You’re like a mother.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear and checked the time. “I’ll talk later. It’s almost half past nine and the event started at nine.” You said before hanging up and sliding your phone into your purse.

You parked your sports car outside of the venue before reaching into the glove compartment and grabbing a black velvet box with a small note on it.

‘Surprise. Olivia.’

“What would I do without her?” You mumbled to yourself as you slowly slid the lid off. A silver diamond lace mask sat elegantly atop of red silk fabric that decorated the bottom of the box. You smiled slightly before picking it up and placing it against your prominent cheekbones, tying a bow behind your head. You grabbed your purse and opened the car door, watching it swing up.

You were immediately helped outside of your car before you tossed the keys into the greeter’s palm. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, walking confidently up the marble stairs that lead to the venue.

You were, by far, the most attractive person at the venue.

“Name, please.” A guard asked you. You raised a brow as you looked over the sea of heads that were mingling.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

He flipped the page over and then flipped it over again so he was on the front page.

“Ma’am, I don’t see your name on here...”

For fuck sake, I have a schedule to kill someone and you’re ruining my plans, asshole, you thought to yourself as you held on to your purse tighter.

“I’m sure I’m on there. There’s no way I-“

“I can’t let you in if your name isn’t on there.” The bouncer replied.

“Fuck me,” You groaned loudly “can you please just let me in? You’re wasting my fucking time-“

Someone approached the pair of you from the venue, a grin plastered on their face. You weren’t sure who it was considering they had a mask on their face.

“Rick, she’s with me. Let her in.” The woman’s voice was calming - you recognised it.

“Uh,” You began while she wrapped a hand around your waist as she lead you towards the crowd.

“Y/N, it’s Julie. Your aunt.” Julie was also the host of the party. She also had an involvement in the mafia and knew exactly what you were doing at the ball tonight.

“Oh.” You exaggerated your response. “Sorry, the mask caught me off guard.”

“You know who you’re assassinating, right?” She whispered in your ear as she grabbed two glasses of champagne and handed one of them to you. You took a small sip and grazed your fingertips over your holster, checking for your weapons.

“Yes, auntie.”

“Three o’clock.” You looked to your right and noticed a man in a dark suit talking quietly with another man. You sucked your teeth and sighed as you looked back at your aunt.

“Right. Him.”

“You’re doing our family a favour, darling. You know that?”

“Yeah, of course.” You smiled and looked at the glass in your hand. “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a second.”

She nodded before approaching someone else, a friend presumably.

You walked closer to the man, slowly, so you’d blend in with the crowd. Your head was held high with confidence as you slid a hand through the slit of your dress and grabbed a switchblade.

You gulped a thick amount of saliva, your heart racing and adrenaline kicking in. He was just a few centimetres. As you approached him from behind, you slid the blade into his back, twisted and pulled out before walking away slowly.

You heard a small gasp, but the chatter throughout the venue continued as if nothing happened. You took this time to make your way over to your aunt in order to look innocent.

“I did it.” You mumbled.

“Great, now stick around me-“

“I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this for years.” You mumbled as you siloed from your glass.

A high pitched scream came from the direction where the man was. A crowd had formed and silence instantly crept into the venue.

“Help! Julie, someone’s dead!” Your aunt ‘panicked’ as she headed over to the scene, you following behind eagerly. You both pushed through the crowd to see the man on the floor, eyes open and face in shock as the blood drained from his body.

“Everyone, leave!” Your aunt instructed as she kneeled down beside him. The crowd instantly emerged and left, leaving you, the man, your aunt and a few guests who were leaving.

“He’s still alive, Julie.” You panicked.

“Not for long he’s not.” She instructed as she checked the guys pulse. “Y/N, you have to leave.” 

“I can’t leave you, it’ll seem suspicious.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, get out of here now.”

You pursed your lips but obeyed her, beginning to walk away as she held an arm around your waist and leading you towards the door.

However, a gunshot interrupted to quiet mumbling between you and your aunt. A sharp sensation filled your body, making you gasp as you rested a hand on your stomach. You and your aunt looked down to see a dark patch of blood that almost matched the colour of your dress.

“Julie...” You gasped as you collapsed into her arms. Her jaw dropped as she struggled to lay you down on the floor carefully. The remaining guests surrounded you, panicking again.

She looked over her shoulder and noticed the guy slowly dropping his gun and closing his eyes, finally dying.

Your aunt looked over to you again and slid a hand under your head, resting a hand on your stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay, love. It’s all gonna be okay.” Right then and there was the first time she cried in years. Watching her niece slip away from her grasp was painful.

“It hurts.” You groaned, your vision beginning to fade. Faces and voices faded and turned into a blur.

“Y/N, stay with me.” She plead.

Darkness.

Your head pounded like you had just woken up with the worst hangover known to mankind.

What the hell did I drink last night?

Sitting up, you noticed you were on the floor in your ruby sparkle dress. Your eyes widened as you raised a brow.

Your purse wasn’t beside you meaning you have no phone to call someone.

“What the fuck?” You thought out loud as you were about to push yourself off of the floor and perhaps find your way back. However, that was impossible as your arms were restricted by handcuffs that were attached to the wall behind you.

“Uhh...” You began as you looked over your shoulder, panicking.

Where is everyone? Where’s the dead man? My aunt? Olivia?

“Hello?” You called out into the darkness. You could barely see anything despite the faint light that was shining through the only window in the room. You grunted as you shuffled onto your knees and stood up, looking through the window.

You cackled as you looked around and shook your head.

“Is this some sort of sick joke? Can someone let me the fuck out of here!” You cried out desperately, pulling in the handcuffs. However, the more you pulled, the more they seemed to burn your wrists.

There was a rattling noise that echoed from the darker side of the room that startled you slightly. All you could do at the moment was stand your ground and stare into the dark abyss, hoping for someone - or something, to appear.

Some sort of door opened and footsteps followed into the room. Two guards, dressed in all black, approached you.

“Where am I? And who are you?” You furrowed your brows as you walked backwards, your back hitting the wall behind you.

They didn’t respond. Instead, one guy held your arm as the other unlocked the handcuffs. You tried to make a run for it - pulling away from their grasps and running into the direction they came from.

But they were surprisingly quick to catch you.

“I’m a fucking mobster, I’ll kill the pair of you in under three seconds-“ you yelled despite struggling due to their tight grasps on your wrists.

“Oh, he’ll definitely love her.” One of them snickered to the other guard. You realised that was the first sentence you’d heard come from either of them.

“Who? Who’ll love me?” You exclaimed as you were dragged down an also dark corridor.

“Shut up.” One growled. There was something about him that put you off.

As you threw your head back out of frustration due to the lack of answers or responses you were getting, you noticed the increase of black chandeliers and glowing torches on the walls. The corridor was cold and damp, the walls were old stone with some sort of dangerous liquid pouring from the crevices.

After what felt like hours, you were finally revealed to two large door that were triple your height. The guards pushed them open and threw you inside, standing beside you and no longer attached to you.

You gasped as the wind was pushed out of you before pushing yourself up. You looked around the room as you slowly stood up. It was also dark, but not as damp as the corridor. There were large black glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Grey marble pillars we’re supporting the infrastructure, as well as grey marble stairs that lead to a throne which held nobody. Finally, there were portraits all over the room, the largest one in particular that caught your eye.

It was a portrait of a young male sat straight, a black suit on but a ruby red cloak around him with black fur. A crown sat proudly on his head as well as an orb and sceptre sat in either hand. He looked miserable - or maybe serious.

His eyes were a calming brown, however as well as his hair that looked curly and soft.

There was a low rumble that came from the ground, the throne erupting in flames to reveal the male you were looking at. The fire burned around his throne softly as you realised he was wearing a similar suit to the one in the portrait. He was in all black, including his shirt. There wasn’t a crown on his head but that made it easier to notice the bouncy curls that sat there perfectly.

His eyes, however, weren’t brown. But black. A jet black that ran a chill down your spine. As a mobster, you had seen a lot of things. But this, this was not on the list.

“Where am I?” You gathered the courage to ask after being shocked from the black eyes. He chuckled as he nodded towards the guards who turned around and walked away simultaneously.

You turned back around to face him, not even remotely scared. Just immensely confused.

“I don’t mean any harm. I just want to know where I am.” You plead as you felt desperate to get back home.

He laughed again and leaned back in his throne, an attractive smirk on his face.

“What’s your name?”

“Um...” you weren’t sure whether to make up a name since you had no idea what he’d do to you if he knew who you really were or tell him the truth. “Hestia.” 

“Hestia, like the goddess of fire and domes-?”

“Enough about me.” You interrupted. “Who the hell are you?”

“The devil himself, love.”

You rolled your eyes and snickered before sighing. “This has got to be some sort of pisstake.”

“Don’t be too thrilled, Hestia.”

“Your name, what’s your name?”

“I can see why you’re named after the goddess of fire.” He responded. “King Thomas Holland. But I’ll let you have the opportunity to call me Tom.”

You furrowed your brows, taken back slightly. “Wait, so you’re actually a king?”

He glanced at the portrait on the wall of himself before looking back down at the girl in the ruby red gown.

“Yes, Miss Hestia.”

“And where am I exactly?” You asked slowly, cursing yourself for acting like a bitch to some sort of king.

“Hell, love.”

Hell was nothing like you had imagined, but then you’d never felt pain in your life so how could you?

Since the age of fourteen, pain had been something for your victims. Strangely, at that age onwards you adored seeing it in their eyes and their helpless screams.

You had never believed in God, in heaven or hell. Perhaps you were going to be honoured in the next life - in hell. You had strangely liked that thought, the idea of inflicting pain without having that one inch of mercy within you.

[lunadiane]

A Happier Afternoon

Summary: Felix has a companion over for tea.

A brief exploration of our canon gremlin.

Read on Ao3

Felix sank into the plush armchair as he leaned his entire weight into it, a porcelain cup of tea in one hand and matching gold-rimmed saucer in the other. Before him, a teapot and accompanying cake stand stood before him on the blue-covered table.

The pastry assortment consisted of petit fours, eclairs, macarons and French-style sandwiches, instead of the usual scones, cakes and English sandwiches he was used to. They were currently in Paris, after all, and although the hands of the grandfather clock read fifteen to five thanks to French schooling hours, it didn’t mean he had to go without his afternoon tea. Now that he had returned to the comfort of his and his mother’s residence, he could also drop the French and converse easier in English.

Felix sipped the steaming hot tea and made a face.

“No milk or sugar? That’s unusual.” His teatime company remarked with amusement. “You never take your tea without them.”

The tea scalded his tongue and he frowned at the bitterness. “I wanted to take my tea your way just this once, to see why you like it. Can’t say I see the appeal.”

The man seated in the armchair across him laughed. “That’s because you didn’t take your time, my boy. Take a breath of the tea before you sip it, make sure you actually sip it, not just take a mouthful – and roll it around your mouth. Bathe your tongue in it and breathe. The scent is half the experience.”

Felix nodded. He carefully inhaled the scent of black tea – which smelled wonderfully of roses, as was its namesake, took another sip and did as he was instructed to, quietly savouring the dark liquid.

He swallowed after a few moments. “There’s hints of…something sweet. Vanilla?” Felix wondered. “And a rose aftertaste.”

The man smiled. “Bain de Rose. Nothing beats a good Earl Grey, though.”

“Of course.” Felix agreed, taking a third sip. “However…in Rome, drink as the Romans drink.”

Felix set his cup back on the table, saucer beneath it, and leaned forward to pluck a brown-coloured macaron, all of the biscuits chocolate except for two mint ones. “And pick your favourites of their local cuisine.” The man continued, his brown eyes crinkling in mirth as he chuckled.

“Mother doesn’t fancy macarons that much anyway.” Felix defended as his companion exclaimed in mock outrage.

“Just because we’re away from our cooks doesn’t mean you can eat anything you want!”

“Really? I thought that was the opposite.” Felix teased, grabbing another macaron and popping it into his mouth.

“I see your mother is spoiling you as usual.”

“No, not really.” Felix smirked. “But she’s been so busy lately, there’s simply no time for her to think about trivial matters. I just decided to step in regarding the menu.” He shrugged helplessly, holding his palms up.

“Rascal.”

A comfortable few seconds of silence passed. Felix drank his tea before reaching for the sugar bowl, metal clinking as he dropped two cubes in with tongs and stirred using the accompanying teaspoon. “What?” He replied to the man’s reproachful look. “I can’t taste anything after eating macarons. The French are impeccable with their sweets.”

“You’re lucky your mother isn’t back yet.”

A second cup, saucer and spoon sat next to the teapot, empty and untouched.

“Speaking of, how is she?”

“She’s fine.” Felix quickly said, drinking his tea. Now it actually tasted sweet, which was to say, good. “She’s got another project, the rings, so of course she’s happier. It takes her mind off…you know.” A lump formed in his throat, which Felix hurriedly swallowed with another gulp of tea.

Kind brown eyes softened as he curled his fingers together on the table, leaning in. “That’s good to hear. I think the change in scenery is really doing her good. She has the French film scene to explore.”

“Exactly what I thought.” Felix nodded.

“What has she discovered?” He asked.

“Mostly shooting locations.” Felix answered. “French architecture’s distinct from London, and she likes to take day trips into other provinces.” He picked up his phone lying on the table and swiped it, opening an image of a quaint cottage in the afternoon sunlight decorated with bright flowerbushes. “From Roussillon. It looks exactly like the ones you find in the English countryside,” He scoffed, “so I don’t know what she was raving about.”

“Don’t let her catch you saying that.” The man smiled.

“It’s about the atmosphere, love!” Felix mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “The French sun is simply better, no dreary English clouds and rain! Why can’t she just wait for summer? It’s not like England doesn’t have blue skies.”  

His companion chuckled. “You know your mother is biased toward her home country.”

“Too biased. Meanwhile,” Felix went on, “I think I’ve found a future costume designer.”

“Really?” The man’s eyes twinkled. “Is that where you’ve gotten your ensemble from?”

Unlike the mourning grey and black he’d worn all of the past year, he was now wearing grey – and predominantly white. A white top hat was perched on his head, a pair of grey vulpine ears protruding from it. He stood and proudly spread out his arms, rotating his wrists theatrically to display his grey-gloved hands and the crisp white fabric of his pants and jacket sleeves. Beneath the jacket was a bright orange vest, gold chain hanging from the pocket, and a grey undershirt. A grey domino mask covered his eyes.

“Worthy of Savile Row, isn’t it?” The boy preened.

“A fox magician?” The man murmured, impressed, eyes tracing the tailored garments. “A bit heavy on the symbolism, don’t you think?”

“I think the symbolism’s perfect. Magic tricks are lies the audience willingly believes, after all.” Felix said. “Besides, what else is best suited to pull rabbits from their hiding places?”

“Was this made by your new costumer talent?”

Felix’s lips curled into a smirk. “It wasn’t, but I would love to see her take on it. She is-”

Outside, the door pushed open. “Felix, I’m home!” came a feminine voice, together with the echoing click-clack of heels.

His green eyes widened. Abruptly, Felix pushed his armchair back with an ugly screech. The man darted out of his own seat to stride closer, moving with his arms outstretched.

Felix flung his arms around him.

“Father.”

At his touch, his father, dark-haired, brown-eyed, clad in his signature white shirt and blue vest, vanished into nothing.

The rustling of paper and plastic sounded from outside. She was obviously setting her purchases down on the counter. For a few moments, Felix stared into the empty space.

“Trixx, hide.” His transformation immediately melted off, leaving him again in grey and black. The fox kwami sprung from the necklace hidden beneath his shirt and zipped into his pocket. The efficacy of the deactivation phrase was one of the reasons he liked this miraculous.

Amelie appeared in the doorway, and he turned to meet her. “Welcome back, Mother.”

There was a healthy flush to her skin and her golden hair slightly mussed from exertion. “I see you’ve started without me.” She said lightly. The smile on her face was playful, but genuine joy and relief exuded from it. For a year, Felix had refused to do anything alone if his mother could be with him. He would wait at school until she came to pick him up, distracted by a book, so that they could go home and take tea together.

She stepped forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, caressing his blond hair. “A year…it’s been a year since he passed.” Amelie murmured, eyes shining. “I suppose we’ve both moving on, aren’t we?”

His chest felt tight.

“Of course, Mother.”