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vanfleeter · 1 month ago

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My Love: Chapter 7

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Sara Warnings: 18+ || Gore. Vampires. Blood. Blood drinking. Mentions of death and murder. Fire. Burning. Angst. Physical violence. Self doubt. Crying. Tears. Yelling. Arguing. Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Cockblocking. Heated make out.

Only a few weeks have gone by since we brought Sara back home and ever since then she has kept herself locked in our bedroom. I’ve tried everything to get her to come out.

Sex.

Blood – human and animal.

Yet nothing has worked thus far. I hadn’t seen a vampire so reserved and so closed off. The guilt of all the humans she killed has been eating at her. And while I’ve been trying to help Sara and coax her out of the bedroom, Danny has been anticipating Nora’s return back home. He’s been getting their house cleaned and ready when she returns. One speck of dust and she’ll never let him hear the end of it. If there’s one thing to know about Nora is that she is a neat freak, even when she feeds. She never wastes a drop of blood and she never gets it anywhere else on her or her chosen victim.

I’m hoping having her here again, she’ll be able to help Sara too. Nora’s been in this kind of situation before, but maybe having another female around will get Sara to talk, or at least come out of the bedroom as a first step. Just something to get her out of her mind and focused on something else.

I tried to be sneaky and have Sam come over one day and infiltrate her mind with anything happy. That only resulted in her causing immense pain to him and him limping away and refusing to ever come near her again until she’s back to her regular self again.

Silently stepping into the room, I watch her as she still sits in front of the window. That’s all she does is sit at the window and stare out of it. What she’s even looking at, besides the same old trees, is beyond me. I slip into the closet and change clothes before going back out to the room and sitting on the side of the bed.

“Are you coming to bed?” I ask, as I have every night since we got back home.

Her eyes slowly leave the scenery outside and focus on me. I brace myself for whatever pain she decides she wants to inflict on me, but instead all I see is nothing in her eyes. Absolutely nothing. Did she flip her switch again? Instead of speaking, she just turns her eyes back to the window and drops her chin into the palm of her hand.

I take that as a no.

“Please come to bed?” I ask, trying again.

“Jake…” I move closer to the edge of the bed, hope festering in my chest. “Do you still love me?”

“Do I..” I slide off the bed and kneel beside her chair. “Of course I still love you.” I reach up and grab her chin in my hand so I can turn her head. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because of what I did..” Her voice shakes and her eyes glisten with tears. “I’m your nightmare..”

“Sara, no..” I reach further up on my knees and draw her in for a kiss. “You didn’t have a choice..”

“How can you still love me?” A tear slips down her cheek and I rub my thumb over her skin to wipe it away.

“I can still love you because I know the real you, Sara. The intense feeling you have right now is remorse. If you didn’t care about what happened, then we'd be having an entirely different conversation.” I crack a small smile and reach back over to kiss her cheek.

“Will I ever go back to normal?” She asks. “How long will this feeling last?”

“It’s all dependent on you,” I say. “You’re in control of your emotions and your mind.” I stand to my feet and hold out my hand to her. “Come lay with me, please?” She meerily nods her head and pushes herself out of the chair.

Together we climb into bed and she instantly curls herself into my body. I still miss feeling the warmth that her body used to give off, I still miss feeling her heart beating. It still beats just differently. One thing though that hasn’t changed is the smell of strawberries. That little red fruit used to make her blood so sweet and so delicious when she was human.

I feel a cool touch to my groin making me flinch. Looking down I see Sara’s hand sliding over my thigh and grasping my length lightly in her hand. “I’ve missed you..” She whispers close to my ear.

“I missed you too,” I say, turning my head to look at her. She looks up at me with doey eyes and I feel myself completely falling to her mercy.

“May I?” She says as she starts to slide the waistband of my sweatpants down to release my now aching dick. I nod my head and she kisses my cheek before sliding her nightgown up her body and swinging her legs over my waist to straddle me. “And when I say that I missed you, I really mean it.”

I chuckle and knead my fingers into her ass. “I’ve really missed you too.”

Within seconds she’s completely sunk down on me, the feeling so intense as if it’s our first time together all over again. Her fingers dig into the skin of my chest as she slowly starts moving her hips. I can’t help but to thrust my hips upwards, driving myself deeper inside and making her moan loudly.

I’m so glad we aren’t still at my brothers’ place. I won’t be teased in the morning because of how loud she is.

I can’t resist the urge to flip us over so that now I’m on top and she’s below me. “For once, let me on top.” She laughs.

“I can’t help it,” I pant before leaning down to kiss her. “You know that I love being in control.”

“Well maybe sometimes, we should switch–” She flips us back over so that she’s straddling my waist again. She pins my arms down to the pillows above my head and gradually picks up the speed of swiveling her hips.

“Fuck.. Sara, don’t do that..”

“Aww, can’t handle not being in charge?”

“Of course.. I can..” I strain against her hold on me, fighting against the throbbing feeling of needing to release. “Fuck..”

I let my head back into the pillows as my orgasm washes over me, my body tensing beneath her. She’s still moving, not wanting to stop even as I feel her own release cover me. But soon she does stop and collapses onto my chest breathing heavily. I feel wetness pooling on my skin and I look down to see her tears leaving wet trails as they slide down my ribcage.

When becoming a vampire, every emotion is heightened, especially sadness. I’ve learned that sadness is the strongest one, and I guess now–so has she..

Carefully removing myself from inside of her, I slid her off from on top and onto the bed beside me. I turn to my side and pull her into my body.

“Why can’t I stop crying?” She says, her voice muffled against my chest. “This sucks worse than when I was human..” I chuckle and bend my head down to kiss her forehead. She swats at my chest before rolling away from me. “It’s not funny..”

“It kind of is,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbows. “Babe, I’ve told you this.. Your emotions are heightened when you transition, they always will be–but you have to learn how to control them.”

“But this sucks!” She cries as she pulls her knees up to her chest.

“This will get easier,” I tell her as I wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

“And if it doesn’t?” She says. “What if.. What if I turn into Sitovo and go bat shit crazy?”

“You won’t go crazy,” I say. “Not if I can help it.” Pulling away from her, I climb off the bed and grab hold of her legs to pull her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” She groans as I pull her off the bed.

“We are going to go hunt..”

“Jake.. I think I’ve had my fill of that..”

“Not humans.. Deer..”

“Ja-a-ake…” She whines. “After everything that I’ve been through, do you really think letting me kill Bambi is a good idea?”

I laugh and kiss her lips. “Just try it..”

“But it’s Bambi..” She pouts. “Can’t I just drink from a blood bag like the wimpy vampire that I am?”

“Wimpy?” I scoff. “Ha! You’re far from wimpy.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. “But I guess since you asked nicely, we can drink from a blood bag.”

“Drink,” I say, handing her a fresh bag of blood that I had retrieved from the cooler in the basement. “I’m going to go out back and take care of a few things.”

“Chris?” She questions as she pops open the bag. I nod my head and pull my hair back into a low bun. “How did you even manage to get his body back here?”

“It’s not that hard..” I say with a smirk.

One thing that I love about living in the middle of nowhere is that I can drag a body outside without any suspicious eyes on me while I do so. I always forget how heavy dead bodies can be. The aching in my shoulders doesn’t compare to the satisfaction that I have knowing that I finally ended Chris. For all these years I was stupid to believe that he ever cared. I was stupid to ever consider him a brother. I should have killed him a long ass time ago when I had the chance to do so.

We wouldn’t be in this predicament if he was already dead. Sara would still be human, still have the option to live a normal life. Of course the Onyx would still be after her, but at least I’d still have a shot to convince them otherwise. Convince them to keep her alive.

I always knew my time with her was limited, she knew that too. If I had to give her up, I would have with no hesitation if it meant keeping her safe. As much as it would have pained me to again lose someone that I love, I would know that she was safe and she could live a life of peace and of love.

The fire ignites after I throw a lit match on top of it. The warmth of the fire heated my body, only causing memories of feeling Sara’s warm body against mine.

Picking up his body, I toss it into the flames. First his clothes catch fire followed by his hair. His eyes are still wide open from when I killed him. Flashes of the day run through my mind as I watch the flames engulf his body completely. I had never seen a lick of fear in his eyes until that day. Never once has he ever shown fear but seeing it clear as day in his eyes, I felt power surge through me like I never have before. For once in the nearly five hundred years of my life, I finally felt strong and I finally felt like I was worth something.

I stayed outside, watching the flames burn until there was nothing left except for the ashes of his body and the kindle of the wood. Putting out what was left in the pit, I turn to look back at the house. Flickering light illuminates the bedroom window. A smile spreads across my face and I make my way back inside.

Getting up to the bedroom, I slowly push open the door and peer inside. Sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her, she looks at me with a devilish grin on her face.

“Feeling better?” I ask as I walk up to the end of the bed.

“I will,” She says as she crawls along the bed. “But it seems like you need a release..”

“Baby, I got mine earlier.” I say.

Her hands skim across the exposed skin of my torso, beneath the unbuttoned fabric of my shirt. “Mmm, but that was for me, and you know it.”

“Did it help?” I say as she brings her hands back around my waist and tugs on the string of my sweatpants.

“A little,” She says. “I’m trying to be in control of my emotions and how I feel.”

“So you’re channeling it all into sex?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Most definitely not..”

I tilt her chin up and connect my lips to hers. Sliding my hands down her body, I grab the bottom of her nightgown and pull it up and over her head. Our tongues wrestle when we reconnect and she pushes my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms.

I got her laid out on the bed when suddenly the bedroom door flew open. “Woah! Hello!” Sam bellows out a laugh as I scramble to get my shirt wrapped around Sara’s naked body.

“Knock much?” I growl as I spin to face him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Apparently barging in on you for the second time,” He laughs. “Maybe you should start locking your front door. Anyways, we need you downstairs.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me..” He says before leaving the room and closing the door with him.

“Oh this better be good,” I say as I go over to the dresser and pull out different clothes for Sara. She gives me a look and I cock my eyebrow. “Uh uh, the last thing I want is for your lady bits to be on display for my brothers..”

“My lady bits?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “So possessive.”

I smile and press my lips to her forehead. “Sam already pushed his limits once, I’m not letting him test the waters again.” I can see her smirk from below the bridge of my nose and I slap my hand across her ass making her gasp. “Don’t even think about it. Now get changed and meet us downstairs.”

Upon entering the living room, I find not only my brothers seated around the room, but Ellis leaning against the mantelpiece and lighting a cigarette with the burning fire. “I do have a lighter,” I say as I take a seat beside Josh on one of the couches.

“This seemed cooler,” Ellis chuckles. “Anyways, you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” He clears his throat and turns to face me. A long cut stretches diagonally down his left cheek. It looks fresh. “The Onyx is on their way here..”

“And why are they coming here?” Danny asks.

“I don’t know,” Ellis says, shrugging his shoulders. “My eavesdropping didn’t go that far.” He falls quiet, his tiny smirk fading. I follow his line of sight and peer over my shoulder to see Sara slowly entering the room. “You look horrible,” Ellis chuckles.

“I’d be careful with what you say around her,” Sam says. “She doesn’t go easy.” Her eyes flash over to Sam and he holds his hands in the air. “I’m only speaking the truth.”

“They still want me dead, don’t they?” Sara says as she steps up to the back of the couch.

Ellis shrugs his shoulders and pushes his black locks behind his ears. “All I know is they’re coming here. None of it sounded threatening–”

“Nothing they ever say sounds threatening,” Danny says as he leans forward on his knees. “Their actions are more lethal than their words.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sara asks. “Let them take me again? Be their fucking puppet again?”

“No,” I say standing up and taking her hand in mine. “We won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t exactly say ‘no’ when they tell you to do something.” Ellis says.

“I did once before,” I say. “I’ll do it again.”

“Oh yeah? Look how that ended up.” Ellis says.

“Whatever it is they’re coming here for, we just need to be prepared.” Josh says. “We shouldn’t jump straight to conclusions without knowing exactly the reason why they’re coming.”

I feel Sara remove her hand from mine and I turn to look at her. “I need to be alone.” She says as she starts to leave the room.

“Hey no,” I say as I go after her. I stop her at the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t lock yourself up in that room again. Don’t shut down again.”

“So what if I do? It’ll make killing me that much easier if I don’t fight back.”

“Would you stop talking like that?” I say as I grab hold of her shoulders. “No one is going to kill you.”

“You should’ve just let me die that day..” She pushes me away and storms up the stairs.

“Sara!” I shout as I go after her. The door slams shut in my face when I get there. Twisting the knob, I throw open the door letting it bang against the wall. “So you’d rather be dead than to be with me?”

“Not everything is about you!” She shouts as she shoves me backwards. “This is about me, Jake! My life–or whatever it is that I’m living–is on the line!”

“And I told you that I would protect you!”

“Oh yeah? And how is that working out for you? I’m dead!” She shouts, flinging her arms around the air.

“I thought that’s what you wanted?!” I shout back. “You begged me for so long to change you and I did!”

“You did it because you were being selfish! You never even asked me!”

“What?!”

She can’t be serious. How can I ask her when she was unconscious and on the verge of death? I cannot deny that I was selfish when I fed her my blood. I did not want to lose her. I did not want to bear that pain again.

“How could I ask you when you were on the verge of death?!” I shake my head, digging my fingers into my hair as I begin to pace back and forth. “The one time that I actually do something that you have been begging me to do, and then when I do it, it pisses you off because I didn’t ask you?! You make my head spin!”

“Get. Out.” She says, her eyes lighting up with fury.

“No,” I say, standing my ground.

“Fine..” She storms past me and out of the room.

“Sara!” I shout again. My voice echoes through the halls and bouncing off the walls. “If you walk out that door,” I say as I follow her down the stairs. “I will not protect you.”

“Well you haven’t been doing a good job anyways,” She says as she throws open the front door.

“Excuse me?” I storm out of the house after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to me. “I have done everything to keep you safe to the best of my ability. Sure it hasn’t always been perfect but dammit, I am only one fucking man who loves you so selfishly that it physically pains me.”

A drop of rain lands on my cheek and before either of us knows it, a downpour begins, drenching us both. We look at each other so intensely, both our bodies fuming with anger and lust. Before I can even get my own hands on her body, she’s pulling me into her with her lips crashing onto mine.

“Your emotions drive me insane,” I say when we pull apart.

“I can’t help it,” She breathes. “You made me this way.”

I smile and lean down to kiss her again.

“Pardon, we seem to be interrupting something..” Pulling away from Sara, I look over to the side only to find the Onyx standing under umbrellas and clad in raincoats. Michael steps forward and flashes his pearly white teeth smile. “Hello Jacob..”

“Michael..”

“Nice pleasantries just are not your thing, are they?”

“Towards you? Never..”

Michael chuckles. “Shall we go inside? It’s quite dreary out here.”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I grab Sara’s hand and motion my other hand towards the door, allowing them to go first. Less of a chance of them getting their hands on her. I won’t take any chances. Josh was kind enough to get us both towels to dry off.

“Relax, Jacob. We come here with good intentions.” Michael says.

“Oh?” Josh speaks up. “That’s a surprise.”

“We put in a lot of thought,” Michael says as he takes a seat on the couch beside Danny. Danny gives him a once over before carefully sliding over to put a little distance between the two of them. The edges of my lips curved slightly as I watched him grow uncomfortable.

“About what?” Josh asks.

“Jacob’s relationship.”

I tighten my grip on Sara’s hand and turn my attention back to Michael. “Around and around in circles..” Josh sighs. “When will this ever stop? Can’t we just move on? She’s no longer human, she’s a vampire just like all of us in this room. Just let it go..”

Michael nods his head. “I completely agree..”

“I’m sorry, what?” Josh says. “Y-You agree?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well that’s a first..” Josh says before taking a sip of whiskey.

“I have thought about what I have done and I am here to issue a formal apology to Sara. I am sorry for all the pain and trauma that I have ordered upon you. I was so blinded by this need to make Jacob realize the mistakes he had made. I wanted him to see the monster he had created and feel regret, because I knew that was his biggest fear and why he was so adamant about not turning her in the first place. We have these rules for a reason and I knew that if I let one slide, I would have to do it for everyone..”

I can sense Josh rolling his eyes which makes my lips twitch ever so slightly.

“So.. I have decided to end this war with you all and wish to start over on a clean slate. I will allow this relationship to continue in its own way. As I can see that Jacob really does love you. I have not seen him so in love since…Vo.” Michael clears his throat.

Danny smirks beside him. “May she rest in ashes..” He mumbles around the glass of whiskey.

“Anyways..” Michael continues. “That was all I wanted to come here for. I believe we can show yourselves out.”

“Please do,” Sam smiles as he motions towards the front door.

“Though I have ended this war, this does not mean that we still won’t be watching you all. You will still be held responsible for any and all actions from here on out.”

“We expect nothing less.” Josh says. “Goodbye. Adios. Hope to never have to see you again.”

Once they were gone, I pry my hand from Sara’s and I turn to look at her. “You can breathe now,” I tell her. She actually releases a breath and I chuckle.

“Well I guess that’s our que to leave now too,” Josh says. “Considering what Sam broke up.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t be so-”

“You better shut up,” I warn.

“Or what? Gonna boil me from the inside out?” Sam laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not scary, Jake.” Sara sits forward and rests her eyes on Sam. “Ow! Ow! Sara!” Sam exclaims as his finger bones crack and bend in odd directions. She smirks a little before blinking and the bone breaking stops. “Why must I always be your victim?”

“You’re just easy,” She says as she stands from the couch. “Now leave.. Jake and I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“You two nauseate me.” Suddenly Sam begins to slowly lift off the ground. I can’t help the laugh that creeps through as I watch him panic. “Sara, this isn’t funny.” He says. “Put me down!”

“It isn’t me.” She says.

“Then who’s got me dangling like this?”

“Hello boys..” Stepping from around the corner of the threshold is Nora with her finger held in the air and pointed at Sam.

“Nora!” Danny exclaims as he runs over to her.

“Nora?” Sam looks below him, only for a beaming grin to spread across his face. “Nora! Hey! Long time no see! Mind letting me down?”

“Sure,” She shrugs her shoulders and drops her hand to her side, effectively dropping Sam to the floor.

He groans in pain and rolls over to his hands and knees. “Gently…” He croaks.

“Oh sorry, I still can’t quite do it with ease.” She giggles softly before pulling Danny in for a kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He says. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was too,” She says before turning to look at Sara. “But she helped me escape. Told me to run or she’d have to break every bone in my body, no fault of her own though. Kind of a bitch, but I liked it. Suits her.”

“Well, she is with Jake.” Sam says, dusting off his clothes. He immediately throws out his hands in defense in Sara’s direction. “Don’t even think about it.”

I smile from my place on the couch and laugh just a little. Sam is officially scared of Sara. Who knew? Standing up from the couch, I walk over to the lovey dovey couple and pry them apart before hugging Nora.

“Glad to have you back, Nora.” I say. “Finally done traveling?”

“Well I wasn’t, technically–then the Onyx practically abducted me and well..traveling is officially over.” Nora explains after we pull apart. “You got yourself a keeper, by the way–and a strong one at that too. Definitely can resist being controlled, great actress.”

I look back at Sara and she shrugs her shoulders. “Fake it til you make it?”

“That’s my girl!” I exclaim as I go back over to her. “You are special.” I pulled her in for a kiss, not caring that they were still around.

“Alright, alright..” Josh sighs. “Now we’re leaving..”

I chuckle against her lips and pull away only long enough to see the front door being closed. Finally alone. Not going to be bothered again–hopefully.

I can feel her fingers walk along my jaw and she’s turning my head back so I’m looking at her. “I love you.” She says.

“I love you too.”

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @thetroublegetssoloud71

add yourself to the tag list in my master list!

#jaketober #my love #vampires #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake gvf #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #gvf #jake kiszka smut

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bloopitynoot · 2 months ago

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Reading SVSSS: Chapter 15

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

It's chapter 15! Time to figure out what happened to SQQ in the latest cliff hangar.

Today no tea- but I did have a blackberry cider that was very tasty.

I also did impulse buy a baby's-first-fountain pen to get into my little writing flow and add to the ambiance of my note taking journey. So, pls ignore the worse-than-usual writing; I am learning to write with it.

let's goooooo!

Well, SQQ appears to be in a coffin? p29

fuck, i'm already smudging the ink with my new pen. The lefty curse of it all. IDK how much of this is going to be legible later. RIP

okay... but how long has he been in here? MXTX is describing everything as dusty as hell. p30 (resolved as I read further- not very long LOL)

and he has his original body! That's exciting! Who did it though?? p30

LOL SQQ has 0 chance with this "advanced level plot" p31. He is totally fucked for sure.

These 'blind corpses' sound like a walking horror show. I would be so scared omg. I don't know how far the animated series got- but if this is animated that would look cool as fuck. p32

okay! they're fueled by breath! that's really neat though! pp33-34 Scary, but cool.

I would die immediately in this situation. When the thing (blind corpses) that are already horrible and unbeatable are scared of something else -> absolutely no hope in surviving. p35

ah, it is our little snake-man. I had a suspicion this was related to him and Luo Binghe's dad. He probably took SQQ's corpse too and brought it here. p35

OMG LOL Luo Binghe's dad is awful, but also feels like a troll AND is serving dad jokes. Re: thinking back to when SQQ knocked on the coffin and he answered from inside LOOOL. p36

Listen. Can we just take a moment to appreciate the absolute DILF that is Luo Binghe's father? I am a whole lesbian but that character art cannot objectively argued as anything else. p37

and now SQQ is going on about Tianlang-jun having BDE (not those exact words but I mean when you say he's working that coffin like it's a Paris fashion week runway and Luo binghe - the man you are obsessed with- could NEVER, it says something.). p38

That fucking power move too! SQQ: seems you've waited a while to meet me, why don't you come out of there and do so. Tianlang-jun: *bats eyes* okay but only if you hold my hand and work for it p39

SQQ has this habit of getting kidnapped "for his own good" but no one ever tells him why it's good for him XD this entire situation is so annoying. Tianlang-jun did this all so that he could get him away from the sects he wanted to destroy. p43

OMG scratch that. He also wants to use him as bait to snatch his sons body as his own. p45.

aside: I'm going to have to organize these notes later- I'm not catching the nuance in the hand written notes LOL my brain is processing faster than my hand (you will notice that the last 2 points here do not match my hand written notes because they were a hot mess).

What an entrance Luo Binghe! p47

Yes SQQ! You rescue your man from his dad (RE: holding Zhuzhi lang hostage) p51

holy shit. Zhuzhi lang is WILD - he really was about to just die instead of be a hostage LOL p52 I want to know what his character motivation is. He's giving the same blind trust energy as The Core Melting Hand in MDZS. Both just so loyal to a fault/their own demise. Do we learn more? or is this it? (genuine question- don't tell me WHAT we learn, just yes/no if we learn more).

That was so smart to hit the anti-theft measures in the tomb p53

aaaaaaaand he snatched the wrong person on the escape. well, that's fantastic. p54

I am loving the traps in this mausoleum though! The face with the magma and then the various rooms. I want to know if this exists as a D&D dungeon crawl/anyone has made one, I think it would be so fun. p59

omg. I don't think that Luo Binghe realizes/knows that that was his own father and cousin. that's so terrible. Truly Luo Binghe was treated so fucking badly literally his entire life. His dad does not even give a shit. Honestly probably only had him for this situation - needing a new body. p61

:((((( Our boy, Luo Binghe is in a bad way rn. gah! so many cliff hangers. p63

MXTX Cliffhangar Lord

And now I have to wait until tomorrow to see if baby Luo Binghe makes it. I'm sure SQQ is going to do something about it but dang, he is not well.

#bloopitynoot reads svsss #svsss spoilers #mxtx svsss #svsss #scum villian self saving system #scum villain #we have left the mushroom bod officially #RIP SQQ's mushroom body

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tommock · 7 months ago

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I DNF'd Mistorn: Here's Why

Disclaimer: You asked for this. Let me start there. Don't get mad at me, Mistborn lover. If you clicked on this link, and that means you are taking the dagger into your own hand. The wound is self-inflicted!

I did not finish Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson. I know, I know, its actually called The Final Empire. The name Mistborn has stuck with so many readers for a reason, so I'll continue to use it as a shorthand. The book didn't work for me, but I think WHY it didn't work for me might be interesting to read about, especially for fellow authors.

If you have read and enjoyed the Mistborn books, or any work by Brandon Sanderson, I'm delighted. I want to applaud any work of fiction that brings people joy (so long as it or its author is not reprehensible in some way (he said, covering his ass)). I don't want you to think this is me taking shots at you or at Sanderson. I'm just talking about a work of fiction and what it did to my brain.

Believe me when I tell you I have no delusions about being some high-handed minister of good taste. You should see some of the anime I watch to destress at the end of a long day trying to be a self-published author, editor, and, well, just an ordinary semi-functioning human being.

I've read many, many books and loved them, only to come back to them later and find they were … less deserving of my matured tastes. Sometimes books meet us at the right time. If Mistborn was, or is, one such book for you, I would be a jerk and a fool if I tried to tell you that you were wrong for liking it. That isn't what this is. But, if you're at all curious why I didn't like it the way you did, here are my thoughts.

Instead of trying to construct some long elaborate essay, I've decided to present my reading notes as I was writing them. If you're at all familiar with my SPFBO9 opening reads thread, this is in a similar, though much protracted style. This is my travelogue of the first few chapters. If these notes are rough or feel stilted in places, I'm sorry. I DNF'd the book a few months ago, and I found in trying to clean up my notes that I was making up commentary to fill in gaps and I don't think that's fair. I've tried to provide some context where I could.

Pages referenced are from the first mass market edition, published August 2007 by Tor

My Notes:

Starts well enough. Interesting introduction to the fantastic elements of the environment (the ash fall) and the enslavement of the skaa. Some neat 2nd world titles “obligator,” etc.

Not great, not riveting, but competent introduction of world and one protagonist, Kelsier. He doesn't know what to do with Vin, though. Disconnect between the characters as we're told they are and their actions. Lacking coherent motivation.

(P.5)The slave that stands and stares defiantly sending a chill through the lord so-and-so is a bit melodramatic. Both actions struck me as over the top.

(writing note)…too many “of courses”

The writing is competent and descriptive. The Mist at night is another interesting setting detail.

(p.6) I immediately dislike Kelsier. “I’ll have to cure them of that (fear of the mist) some day.” This is has an unsympathetic arrogance about it. If this is also the man who stared defiantly at lord-so-and-so, hes blasé about endangering these people, and seems to look down on them, much like lord-so-and-so. I suspect this impression is not intentional. I suspect I’m supposed to think him strong and clever. We’ll see.

(7) rolling his eyes at these people. This seems intentional. But it’s also annoying.

(10) beatings beatings beatings. These “peasants” and their daily beatings. Did I mention the beatings? Their lives are harsh! There are beatings!

(‘) what is this talk about Tepper “leading” the skaa? Leading them how? They’re slaves! What decisions are they making? No, really. What is this forced little conflict? It’s pointless.

(‘) “How do you do that?” “What?” “Smile all the time” - there’s no reason for him to ask this. It’s unmotivated dialogue. How do you smile all the time? How? No. Why, sure. “You keep smiling. Is something about our home funny to you?”

(19-20, ch.1) I’m having trouble with Sandersons storytelling. This is coming across as heavy handed and simplistic. Here’s Vin. She was betrayed. There are betrayals. This boy who came to get her who’s nice enough will also betray her. But the ash is free…

I wonder if we’re going to slowly work through the alphabet section by section. Ash, then beatings and betrayal… who knows what could be next? Crime? I bet it’s crime.

Also - Reen’s sayings and betrayal. I think in general I find it a bit affected when we meet a character and they’re immediately thinking of their backstory … but that’s probably not fair of me. I think what comes across as affected is Sandersons execution. There’s a very light fiction - YA quality about Vin’s angsty introduction. I might have loved it if I read it at 14, but not now.

I’d like to think of an example of what would be more appealing to me - the introduction of a character with similar enough circumstances… Actually, Gideon the 9th might be a good example. We get to hear Gideon’s voice in the prose and the dialogue and get a strong sense of her character as well as the specific and very interesting world building details of how she got into the 9th house. Here, Reen’s betrayal is left completely unexplored, and so I wonder why bring it up at all except for that cheap YA punch in the gut of “my brother betrayed me and now I’m here.”

Maybe Sanderson felt some necessity to move faster here. He wanted to get to the city theiving … but it isn’t working for me, so obviously I think it was a mistake. Obviously he was hoping this would create a sense of anticipation that we would eventually find out HOW Vin’s brother betrayed her, but because he leads with it and then doesn’t explain it, it makes it seem like it doesn’t really matter HOW Vin was betrayed, what’s important is that she was betrayed and now she doesn’t trust anyone. It’s just a bit weak.

THE HEAVY HANDEDNESS (People being mean to Vin - her hard life) (21) the slap in the face (23) Theron looking Vin up and down - “eyes lingered on her … running down the length of her body. … She was hardly enticing (didn’t even look 16); some men preferred such women, however.” (24) “what do you know?” “Enough” - Vin hurts her, expositional dialogue about her brother’s debt and selling her to a whorehouse.

(25) fearing Vin would disappear in a scene she doesn’t have much to do during, we get these unnecessary interjections of her watching the interaction, followed by the explanation of Camon thinking Vin is his good luck charm. This should have been presented earlier, because it just interrupts the dialogue here. But also, it feels inaccurate after Vin made such a useful critique of Camon’s servants. She seems much more useful in other ways than a luck charm, and comfortable offering her criticism without the slightest hesitation.

This chapter ends rather abruptly and without much Go to it. Vin uses her Luck and gets our stuffy official to consider her boss’s mundane business proposal.

The notion that Camon brings Vin along because he thinks of her as his luck charm feels really thin, especially on a job like this where everyone has to look the part. Which raises an important question: what was Vin doing there? I mean literally. Why didn’t Camon have SOMETHING for her to do. Camon didn’t dress her up in any part, she didn’t have any kind of cover story as his daughter or nurse or anything. Just some kid in the room dressed … who knows how while important official business is discussed. She just floats somewhere, doing nothing, as far as anyone is concerned.

VIN’S MOTIVATION Where is it? What does she get out of making this work for Camon if he has no idea what she’s doing? Why is she avoiding him if this is such an important job? Why is she helping him at all?

The pieces are there, but Sanderson doesn’t put them together.

Camon should know about Vin’s ability to “smooth things over” in some capacity. This would give him a serious reason for her being there on this crucial job. Vin should be motivated to help him because if this lucrative job works out, it will go a long way towards paying off her brother’s debt. Now suddenly there is a sense of urgency for her instead of just having a bad time owned by a “crew leader” getting slapped around. The scam itself isn’t enough. Frankly, it’s kind of boring at this point. It’s a slow moving beurocratic swindle.

(32) Kelsier. Sanderson is doing a good job introducing some thieves’ cant here as Dockson and Kelsier are planning their job, talking about how they need a “Smoker.” Someone is a good Tineye. The loss of a man to the Steel Ministry underscores the mortal risk these men are taking. But … there’s something about all this crime play that feels a bit cute, like Sanderson had only a passing, generic understanding of (fictional) gangs/criminal organizations. He’s spent his world building energy on the fantasy aspects of the story - the dystopian Tolkien Lord Ruler and Steel Ministry, skaa, ashfalls, mist - but not on developing the criminal world of the characters, linguistically speaking. They’re all crews working on a job headed by a crew leader. This is the world we’re living in, most immediately, and yet it feels the most underdeveloped.

“Kelsier shook his head. ‘No. He’s a good Smoker, but he’s not a good enough man.’ Dockson smiled. ‘Not a good enough man to be on a THIEVING CREW … Kell, I have missed working with you.”

This stopped me dead. I laughed at the book and put my hand over my eyes. “Thieving crew” is just silly. It’s sixth grade D&D language, but even more ridiculous is the sentiment of Dockson’s statement: that character is somehow a moot point because they are criminals. It’s as if he’s saying: we’re breaking the law, so we’re the bad guys, and bad guys don’t work with “good men.”

Here we see Sanderson’s shallow understanding of the characters he’s portraying. They are stealing from slavers who exist in the service of a brutal, oppressive dictator. But put that aside, and consider we’ve just been told one of their ilk had been caught and beheaded by the Ministry. The risk these people are facing couldn’t be higher. Working with people they can trust, a stand up guy or a “good man,” would be one of the most important things to them. From their point of view a “good man” doesn’t mean a patron saint of the poor, but it means a hell of a lot. If a guy is a drunk who cheats on his wife, you can’t trust him not to turn on you. If he gambles too much, you can’t trust him not to gamble on your safety. He doesn’t keep his apartment clean, how can you trust him to be conscientious about keeping you alive. It all matters - even more so because he’s on a “thieving crew.”

Now, Sanderson probably didn’t give this line more than a moment's thought. He was writing fast and sailed right over it. But that’s exactly the problem. It gives the book a kind of childish, YA feeling.

(33) “Kelsier turned with curious eyes.” I’ve written lines like this, but I almost always revise them because I write about eyes too much. The point is his eyes aren’t curious, Kelsier is, and it shows on his face. I can’t picture curious eyes, and I’m sure you can’t either. And I would cut the next line of dialogue - going to chastise my brother … we already know he was going to do this because he said so, and the line just isn’t very good anyway. A look of curiosity from Kell, and the promise from Dockson “it’ll be worth your time,” gets us out of the section better. Sometimes the best repartee between characters is a look.

(33-34) the scenes with Vin remain heavy handed, and affected. This section adds almost nothing to the story accept for the disappointingly narrow view of a fantasy underworld that the women in it are only ever whores. This from a world crawling with Smokers and Tineyes? I think not. The clumsy presentation of Vin’s awful life is what makes these sections particularly affected. With her particular ability to use her Luck, I can’t help but wonder why she’s even still here. That seems to be the story to me. Not the abuse, but why she remains when she clearly has the power to get out. She can smooth over deals with reps from the SM, but she hasn’t thought to calm some member of the crew and then just … walk? Go literally anywhere in the city and use her Luck to get work where she won’t be whipped and slapped. It seems like the easiest thing in the world, so why hasn’t she done it? This is what the story here could have been, and it would have been so much more interesting.

Obviously she has to be there so Sanderson can have terrible things happen to her so she can be saved by Kelsier just like he saved the other raped scaa girl (let’s all take a moment to roll our eyes) and then her character can have a trajectory from passive victim to active hero - but that’s an excuse, and excuses don’t make good stories.

That said, as is, these two pages could be cut entirely and with very minor revision to the next session, nothing would be lost. It introduces a hideout we don’t need to know about, abuse that is redundant, over the top and unmotivated, and then Camon says “it’s time.” It’s just a prelude, in which nothing happens, before the actual scene. So just cut to the actual scene.

(36) we finally find out what the Camon job was supposed to be, I suspect because Sanderson finally decided what the details were. It would have been much more interesting to know this earlier, just like it would have been more interesting to understand about the particulars of Vin’s brothers betrayal earlier, so we could understand the context of the story being told.

But a LARGER ISSUE continues to emerge. First Camon tells Vin nothing about his plans. She says she is apparently the only crew member who didn’t know what was going on. Then, as they sit in the waiting room, in the vey belly of the obligator beast, he tells her everything. Why? Because Sanderson wants us to know even though he never decided who this character was.

He wants her to be a passive victim of inordinate abuses by a group of irredeemable villains, who only avoids constant sexual assault through the exhausting use of her secret magic so she can be saved and then learn how to be powerful later. But he also wants her to be a smart, capable member of Camon’s crew who is considered as such, because he knows passive protagonists aren’t interesting and because he wants us, the reader, to know what’s going on, and also think that Vin is cool. She can’t be both at the same time. She either needs to be less of an abject, pathetic victim, or she needs to be less involved in this big important scam - and that means she knows less about it and does less to make it work. As is, he’s done too little with either idea of her character and both Vin and Camon are an unmotivated mess.

(42) steel inquisitor. Cool, creepy, disgusting - something straight out of hellraiser.

(43) “Besides, I’m not about to let a possible Mistborn slip away from us” Ah!

Ch3 (45) after the meeting with the obligator (that was a trap), is the first time Vin ever expresses any interest in getting away. Much too late Sanderson gives us a much too thin reason why Vin hasn’t run away (considering the conflicting versions of her character as mentioned before). It’s little more than an afterthought.

(47) in no more than 2 pages Vin goes from never thinking she could make it on her own to leaving for good, telling herself she’d survived sleeping in alleyways before, she could do it again and - “Reen had taught her how to scavenge and beg. Both were difficult in the Final Empire … but she would find a way, if she had too.”

So far, this is all based on a bad feeling. More motivation conflict - Vin has no problem telling Camon directly how his plans won’t work and that he should change the way the servants are dressed, helps him succeed with her luck in both plans, but sees no reason to tell him “I have a bad feeling about this. That was too easy. Why did that obligator suddenly agree. Doesn’t this seem weird to you?”

Sanderson has many of the right pieces, but he hasn’t been able to put them together coherently.

(45)(And, just as an aside, I’m not sure why a girl who has spent to book so far reiterating to herself that EVERYONE WILL BETRAY ME is going out of her way to tell Ulef she has a bad feeling and to get him to come with her. Sanderson says “if he would go with her, then at least she wouldn’t be alone.” But he has also up until this point defined her character by a near constant desire to be alone - when she is introduced sitting in the window of the hideout thinking her brothers word “Vin wasn’t on duty; the watch-hole was simply one of the few places where she could find solitude. And Vin liked solitude. ‘When you’re alone, no one can betray you’- (37) at the “It’s just another betrayal, she thought sickly. Why does it still bother me so? Everyone betrays everyone else. That’s the way life is … She wanted to find a corner - someplace cramped and secluded - and hide. Alone.”

(47) "Bringing Ulef was a good idea. He had contacts in Luthadel." These after the fact explanations are no good. This isn't Vin thinking this, it's the author coming up with more justification for Vin's action, but in order for her character to seem active and motivated, this needed to be revised into the section where Vin decides to bring Ulef. Now it's just tacked on - oh, yeah, and, by the way, if you weren't sure it made sense for Vin to do this, Ulef probably knows people. So, there.

It doesn’t wash. Who is this girl? Can she not stand the idea of being alone, or is it the one and only thing she wants? Is she strong and resourceful in spite of her circumstances, or is she a passive victim? Does she believe everyone will betray her, or does she desperately want to believe otherwise because she can’t live in such an unkind world? Sanderson doesn’t seem to have been able to make up his mind. Maybe some of these details were added in revision on the suggestion of beta readers and the result is a checkerboard character. I’ve seen that before where you make a suggestion to a writer and they add your suggestion but they don’t make the necessary changes to the rest of the book so that the new material earns its place, they just throw it in and dust off their hands - job well done, gotta stay on schedule to publish! But now I’m just writing fan fiction about Sanderson’s process. I don’t know.

(55) Vin’s “weakness” - the contradictions/inexactitude of characters seems to be an ongoing issue for Sanderson, at least for Vin. Is she weak and has to pretend to be strong, or is she strong and often chooses to pretend to be weak (so far she has seemed to be weak and act weak, other than her Luck).

Well, that's as far as I got. Kel shows up just in time to be the wrath of justice for Vin. He's the superman who will make everything alright for this feckless girl. Our hero. Did Sanderson lay it on thick enough? Did you get that these people were all so irredeemably and stupidly bad? Aren't you so glad this strong man has shown up to be Vin's vengeance, just like had been telegraphed all along?

Sorry, I don't mean to be sarcastic. This part of the narrative really isn't so bad, its just been so heavy handedly and clumsily lead up to that there's no thrill in it for me. It isn't a bit satisfying. I'm just glad I don't have to read about any of these shallow side-characters anymore. Except, I have no intention to read on, so I don't have to read about any of them anymore.

Is this book bad? Yes and no. I don't want to read any more, and only read as far as I did as an examination of storytelling, so for me its bad. You only get so many eyerolls before I have to say that. The sentences are very clear and coherent. On their own, they are coherent. Together, they fail to paint of picture of coherent characters who drive the action of the story. If you don't have that, at least in my book, you've got nothing.

The images work. The setting, in its broad strokes, is eveocative. I'd love to set a DnD campaign in a world of ash and a dark lord and all that (I'm not the least mad about the cliché of the dark lord, by the way. Who doesn't love archetypical stories?) But, as near as I can tell, there are no human beings in this book. No one is real. The characters are just that, only characters in a book. They are paper cutouts. They fall flat when the hand of the author isn't pushing them around and making them do things.

Fans often hold Sanderson up as the gold standard of a fantasy author who produces work fast. And having read this far into Mistborn, I can say this about it: It reads like it was written fast.

Yes, Mistborn was an earlier book of his, so I can't judge him by it alone. But it is a work that is so often held up as a favorite by his readers. That's why I picked it up, to see what all the fuss was about. There were many things I enjoyed, but what I enjoyed wasn't the narrative. The story and the characters who moved it were the thing that I enjoyed least. The unique magic and broad setting details and description of places and creepy Inquisitors were what I liked best. The proper nouns were fun.

But proper nouns don't make a story for me. So I did not finish Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson.

If I were looking for a light fantasy read that I didn't have to take seriously and I could pick up and put down whenever I wanted because it was never that exciting or particularly witty or clever, but managed to string along one event after another and kept them going, more or less, whether it made much sense or not, until the end, I think Mistborn would be a fine book to dip into. Lots of people have read it. But then, that seems to me to be its major appeal. It’s a book you can talk about with other people.

It's not enough for me, though. There's lots of fun fantasy books out there that feel more coherent, and, well, INTERESTED in the story they're telling. Interested in violence and revolution and crime in an oppressively totalitarian, dystopian world. Interested in the plight of a young girl who only wants … well, what does she want? To be safe? But the only way she finds she can be safe is to go toward danger and realize how very strong she is? Maybe this story would like to be that, but it hasn't been for the first 60 or so pages.

Sanderson's novel felt more interested in the large and vague story shapes around the characters - a city, a dark lord, slavery, soot snow, bad mist, some kinds of magic, and (I cringe to say it) rape and thieving and beatings - but not in the world of their lives.

I've heard good things about The Way Of Kings from people who did not like Mistborn either, but its safe to say at this point that I have reservations about my reading tastes being a good match for Sanderson's work, at least at this point in time.

If I'm looking for fun I'd rather read another swanky, noir fantasy by Douglas Lumsden any day, or the next gothic gaslamp fantasy mystery by Morgan Stang, or discover my next favorite author, indie or otherwise.

I don't think Mistborn was terrible by any stretch of the imagination. Sanderson has delighted readers for over a decade now! He's prolific, hard working, and he delivers what his fans want, and he and they continue to be richly rewarded for his efforts. He is a Name in the genre, often listed alongside the greats. And why not? Isn't pleasing readers what this is all about? Taylor Swift has oceans of adoring fans, and she's no less deserving of her accolades. Brandon Sanderson is the Taylor Swift of fantasy, you could say. I just don't like her music either.

#books and reading #brandon sanderson #Mistborn #book review #book critique #dnf #fantasy books

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britcision · 2 years ago

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Ahem… anyway… THE GALA BEGINS! Available on AO3, linked in the first chapter

First:

Tag list

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—————-

Party At Brucie’s

Jason had been added to the Team Phantom group chat pretty much immediately on return from the Ghost Zone.

And maybe Danny hadn’t been the most tactful, but he’d sure as shit made Jason laugh.

‘DannyP: New halfa just dropped!! *DannyP has added JTodd to the chat*’

Jason then got to spend a couple hours explaining the situation and watching Sam and Tucker roast Danny to within an inch of his life about it.

He liked the Team Phantom group chat. Definitely preferred it over the Wayne family group chat or the Bat Chat for those few days leading up to the gala.

Fucking Dick sending pictures of him.

Red Hood was NOT cute. No matter what any of them said. He was just glad Dick had been considerate enough to crop it to his own face, not showing Danny’s.

Small mercies.

He’d have avoided Wayne manor until the last second if he hadn’t known he’d then have to deal with them at the gala, in front of Danny.

So, the morning after the photo (and his brief, apparently unnoticed sojourn to another dimension) he made his way back to the mansion, wondering idly what he’d be doing if the pit rage wasn’t a still a soft, gentle ball of calm.

He could see himself being pissed he’d been spied on. Turned it into something dark and nasty.

As it was… well, he was mildly annoyed. Maybe just the tiniest, ittiest bittiest bit touched Dick had come to check on him.

Mostly? Dread. Apprehension, really. They weren’t gonna hurt him or do anything nasty.

Buuuuut Jason remembered being an Extreme Little Shit to Dick when he was crushing on Babs, and while he totally, absolutely did not have a crush on his new king…

Well, it was a cute picture. Smiling, blushing Jason, and even he had a hard time believing it was of him.

It looked like he had a crush.

But really it was exertion from the wrestling just before it was taken, definitely for sure.

He wasn’t gonna argue that though; it’d be admitting the idea had merit beyond just dismissing it.

He’d managed to wake up in time (after chatting with Danny’s friends online into the night) for Alfred’s pancakes, and that’d make up for damn near anything, even Steph being home.

She didn’t always stay at the manor, but there was a chance she’d crashed out for those same sweet heavenly pancakes.

Jason had another mission now anyway, and the good news was that Bruce would be home; no one in business got shit done in the week between Christmas and the New Year.

The bad news was… Bruce would be home, Jason would have to talk to him.

Joy.

But for Alfred’s pancakes Jason would fight the devil himself, with his bangin’ new gun to boot.

(He’d taken the time to have a longer look at that too; a Colt revolver, not quite his usual machine pistols, but classic. It had a satisfying weight in his hand and was a neat matte black, with just the strangest hint of red light flickering across it.

Danny said the sword burned green in its owner’s hand; something to check out at the range. Maybe in the cave. And, apparently, it was definitely non lethal.

Knowing this because Danny’d seen people stabbed with the sword version did not reassure Jason.)

The table was mostly empty when Jason arrived, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Duke was in, and he gave Jason a half shy smile and nodded.

They hadn’t interacted much; Duke was new, and he was Gotham’s daytime hero, while Jason still preferred to patrol at night. Still, he’d helped out a couple times.

They got along, even when Jason was at odds with the rest of the bat clan.

And his phone was on the table, likely with the group chat on it.

Jason gave him a nod and a half smile of his own as he took his seat. Not right next to Duke; the table was big and empty, he didn’t wanna crowd. He sat across from him instead, so they could talk.

“You can ask,” he said by way of greeting, tipping back to grin at Alfred as the man brought him a stack, “and you are the real hero, Alfie.”

Duke hid a grin in his juice as Alfred raised an eyebrow at Jason, not quite in reprimand.

“As you say, Master Jason,” the butler said calmly, setting down his plate. “You were missed at dinner. Twice.”

Jason made a face and shrugged, knowing full well what Alfred actually meant. He hadn’t actually decided how much he wanted to tell them about Danny yet.

Alfred? Alfred he trusted without question or reservation. Even to keep secrets from Bruce, if he didn’t think it would hurt someone.

But if Bruce knew he told Alfred something and not him, he’d pout. And while Jason wouldn’t have to deal with it, the others would, and Jason dealt with them.

For now, it was better to keep anything ghost related quiet. Bruce would want to know absolutely everything, and frankly?

Just once, Jason would like a handle on something first. Just this once, he wanted to know what was going on with his body. With his life.

It wasn’t that much to ask.

So he gave Alfred a sheepish smile, half wishing he could just put a hand on the man’s shoulder. Touching with Danny was so easy, he hadn’t realised how much casual touch was missing from his life.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Wasn’t exactly myself, so I figured I’d keep out of everyones’ hair.” He wasn’t expecting the worried look Duke gave him as he turned back to the table.

Wary? That’d make sense. They were all fucking pros at talking around the pit rage, and Jason knew they all expected him to lose it at some point.

He had. More than once.

“Are you feeling better now?” Duke asked softly, not quite able to make eye contact and poking at his pancakes instead.

Jason took a moment to just. Enjoy the warmth that rose from the simple question. No worrying it was fake, no green hunting for ulterior motives.

His brother cared. It could be that simple.

He spread his hands and smiled, shrugging.

“Good as I can be. Figured I’d come back and socialise since I have a party to go to this weekend. Are you coming?” Fuck, was it really tomorrow?

Duke studied his face for a long moment (being in the detective family was finally getting to him, Jason knew that squint) then smiled back.

“Nah, I’m working before and after. I got a conveniently timed lead,” he added smugly, leaning back in his seat.

Jason made the appropriate noises of jealousy and Duke chuckled, shaking his head.

“Hey, I have another three weeks to go to beat Damian’s record, and I haven’t even stabbed anyone. I’ll come to your next one,” he promised. Paused again.

Coming to a decision, he leaned in across the table and beckoned Jason to join him. Shifting his plate aside, Jason did so, wondering what Duke wouldn’t want overheard.

“It seems like the pit’s been worse lately,” the younger man said softly, finally meeting Jason’s eye, “are you okay?”

And oh, apparently since the pit itself was still in post-Danny bliss, Jason’s regular emotions were going to choke him. Lovely.

He forced a smile, leaning back so there was half a chance Duke might not read it in his face. For half a second, he considered telling the truth.

Buuuuut the truth would get complicated real quick.

“It’s been bad,” he agreed, keeping his voice level with all the stubbornness that propelled him to the Far Frozen, “but it’s gonna be fine. I’ve got a new strategy and it’s getting it back under control.”

Duke didn’t quite follow his lead right away, sharp eyes scanning every inch of Jason’s posture. Fuck, if Dick was here, Tim, maybe even Cass?

He’d be screwed. Just had to hope Duke wasn’t at that level of intrusive bastard yet.

Whatever he saw, it settled him enough that he relaxed as he leaned back, crossing one ankle onto his knee and grinning.

“And would this strategy have anything to do with a hundred pound twink throwing you around?” He asked, suddenly cheeky.

Jason’s cheeks flushed at just the memory and his smile spread, becoming something more real.

“Fuck, I said you could ask, didn’t I?” He groaned melodramatically, letting his head drop back for a moment before getting back to his pancakes.

Letting them go cold would be worse than a sin.

“You did,” Duke confirmed, a hint of laughter in his voice.

There was a lot of laughter in Jason’s life lately. It felt really good to notice that. Swallowing a large bite of syrupy goodness he thought about Danny for a moment.

Danny and everything he’d learned both from and because of him. A soft, sappy smile stretched across his face entirely without his noticing.

“Yeah. It does.”

Duke considered snapping another quick pic for the group chat. But honestly… it was just nice to see, and he hoped whatever it was worked.

Duke had seen people struggle with addiction, some of whom never found out who spiked their first dose. It wasn’t the same, but… he hated seeing people fighting something beyond their control.

On impulse he reached across the table and patted Jason’s hand.

“Then I’m happy for you man. Right up until Dick gets here,” he added as loud steps descended the stairs towards them, debating fleeing the room himself.

Some of the rowdier birds still managed to surprise him, but. Fuck it. He had to get used to it some time.

Jason groaned and shovelled another large bite of pancake into his mouth, speaking as he chewed.

“Dick’s here?”

The eldest usually went back to Bludhaven at the end of the night, to his own place and his cop job and… aaaaand Dick had taken the day off to help Jason get a fucking suit.

Of course.

He’d forgotten, possibly by sheer optimism. He didn’t have time to lament the slip before Dick charged into the kitchen, spotted him, and slammed into the chair beside him hard enough that it skidded over and hit his own.

“Jaybird! I thought I heard your voice! Tell me everything about your new boyfriend, is he nice? Do we get to meet him? What’s his name?” He asked without pausing for breath, resting his chin on Jason’s shoulder and grinning.

Jason stared him dead in the eye and took a slow, deliberate bite of pancake. Across the table Duke snickered, toying with his juice.

Dick groaned as loudly as he could, flopping back into his own seat as Alfred brought him a stack of his own.

“Awwww, c’mon Jaaaaaaaay, you know you wanna tell me everything! Is he coming to the gala? We can bring him suit shopping, I have Bruce’s card and he’ll never notice a second charge,” he wheedled, reaching for syrup without glancing at the table.

Duke pushed the bottle closer to his hand, giving Jason an entirely unapologetic shrug.

“You’re the one who said we could ask,” he pointed out innocently. Dick gasped in delight and Jason pointed his fork at the younger man.

“I said you could ask,” he corrected, stifling a grin when Dick pressed a hand to his chest, feigning injury.

Yeah, he and Danny would get along just fine. Drama queens the both of them.

Shit, Danny had black hair and blue eyes too, maybe Jason should keep him away from Bruce. Could you adopt a king?

“Jason! Little Wing! You’re not gonna tell our baby brother and not me!” Dick proclaimed dramatically, breaking off that train of thought.

Duke grinned wider, leaning over to grab a jug and refill his juice.

“Hey, I’m the cute one,” he said smugly as Dick protested. Jason chuckled, taking advantage of the distraction to finish the last of his pancakes.

He snagged Duke’s empty plate as well while the two argued, Dick utterly insistent that he was still the cute one, Duke calling him cute for the nursing home, and filled the dishwasher.

Alfred gave him a raised eyebrow from the stove, another set of pancakes already underway, and Jason shrugged.

“It’s quieter over here,” he said innocently, turning to lean back against the counter and watch his oldest and newest siblings fight.

Alfred made a low hum of approval, expertly flipping a pancake.

“You were always the quiet one, Master Jason,” the older man agreed and Jason almost argued before looking back to the table.

Compared to Dick? Yeah he kinda was. Jason could semi-reliably be persuaded to sit still with a book. Dick wouldn’t sit still if he wasn’t upside down.

Best to put him out of his misery though.

Giving Alfred a half smile, Jason made his way back to the table and swung back into his seat.

“Alright, fuckwits, you’re both adorable, now shut up or I won’t tell you shit.”

Dick’s mouth slammed shut immediately as he turned, leaning on the table and watching Jason wide eyed. Duke, eyes crinkled with laughter, leaned back in his chair and raised both hands.

Satisfied that he had their attention, Jason opened his mouth to give them some basics, then hesitated.

He’d been planning on asking Bruce if he could add a plus one to the list, so Danny’s friend Tucker could come and say hi. Just a friend.

He didn’t know much about the guy, except that he was fucking hilarious and worshipped the ground Tim walked on, but he didn’t know much about Danny either.

Buuuuut, if his siblings were all gonna be gushing fuckheads… it couldn’t hurt to mess them around a little. Schooling his smile into innocence, he turned his cup between his hands.

“I’m gonna ask Bruce today if he can come. He’s got a suit,” (Jason fervently hoped, but when they’d made the plan it hadn’t come up) “but you’ll all meet him at the gala.”

Duke groaned and flopped back in his chair, dropping his cup.

“Aw fuck, that’s not fair. Just three more weeks, Jason!” He complained, and Jason hid a grin in his own juice.

Tucker’s reaction the night before had been pretty similar; annoyed he wouldn’t get to meet the new halfa with the others. Too bad Duke wasn’t coming. There’d be more of their own class than at any other gala ever.

Dick was about as sympathetic as Danny and Sam had been too, grinning over at Duke and pointing with his knife.

“Hey, no one’s forcing you to go for Damian’s record for longest without attending a gala, Duke.”

Duke stuck his tongue out at Dick and sighed, glancing around.

“Yeah, but you guys don’t exactly make it sound fun. And if I go to one, neither of you assholes live at the manor anymore, and Bruce’ll expect me to show up for more. Can’t he meet you here, Jay?” He wheedled, trying the puppy eyes.

Sucks to be him, Jason spends half his time with the Alley kids and they were smaller, cuter, and more likely to kick him in the shins.

“Sorry Narrows, he’s coming in from out of town tomorrow. I’d bring him after but you’ll be in bed,” Jason teased and Duke groaned again.

Dick frowned, cocking his head.

“Wait, he’s gone out of town? He was here last night, why not stay?” He asked, looking for pieces to put together.

Luckily this was an easy one. Jason just shrugged.

“Gotta go get his suit. Apparently not everyone brings the good three piece to college,” he added and Dick grinned, shaking his head.

“Already going? My you’re certain Bruce’ll say yes,” he laughed and Jason grinned, spreading his hands.

“It’s my party, and it’s not like the venue charges by the head. I just gotta get his name on the list.”

“Hey, if I don’t get to meet him early, I want all the juicy details,” Duke cut in, pointing seriously at Dick. “You gotta tell me everything that happens.”

Dick raised his hand in a boy scout salute, which none of them had been. Jason only barely recognised it.

“Your words, my bond little man. I’ll even get you a pic of Jay and his date all gussied up,” he swore and Jason rolled his eyes.

“What makes you think we’re taking pictures?” He asked mostly rhetorically. Dick shot him a wicked grin.

“What makes you think you’ll know I’m taking it?”

Which, fair, expected, and totally valid. They’d all been just as annoying when Tim and Connor finally got together. Dickie kept a scrapbook.

There was some more noise from upstairs now, footsteps getting closer, and Jason wondered how many people had stayed overnight. Usually the manor just held Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Cass, and Duke.

Maybe half of those would be going to a given gala, so Jason had been reasonably confident he could be in and out. From the sounds of it, either all three missing members were on their way down, or there were extras.

Seeing his expression, Dick shrugged.

“Tim’s bribe to escape the gala was three nights of Alfred-supervised sleep, Steph stayed over with Cass to gossip, and Damian had Jon over. You’ve got a full house to satisfy,” he explained, eyes bright with laughter.

Jason hesitated for only a moment, considering bailing. His siblings were fine, one or one or in small groups. All at once? A little overwhelming.

Someone always managed to set him off eventually.

Almost reflexively he reached for the pit. Felt its warm, gentle peace. And let his shoulders settle.

Why not give it a shot? See how much was just something else’s rage and how much was him not being able to handle them all.

And they were getting close. Leaning in, he lowered his voice and hissed to the other two.

“Wanna pretend I’ve already told you everything?” He hissed, and very much enjoyed watching both of his brothers’ eyes light up with mischief.

“Okay but you actually do have to later,” Duke hissed back, all three now watching the doors avidly for the first sight of bodies. Dick nodded eager agreement, finally making headway on his own breakfast.

Footsteps in the hall. Not long left.

“His name’s Danny, we met at my grave on the 24th, he loves space and puns, he goes to Gotham U and I’ll text you more later,” Jason said quickly, not missing the light that went on above Dick’s head, then pushed back in his chair and sitting casually. “Pretend I told a joke.”

Duke and Dick burst into immediate, mostly genuine laughter as they dropped into similar poses and Jason grinned, a wave of affection for both washing over him.

Like the universe itself was giving him a gift, it was Steph who burst into the kitchen next, Cass and Tim both at her heels. Steph’s eyes gleamed almost unnaturally when she caught sight of Jason.

“You’re here! Did you bring your danger twink?” She exclaimed eagerly, almost tackling Duke when she slammed into the chair next to him even harder than Dick hit Jason’s.

That pushed Jason to cackle as well, even as Cass came and draped herself over his shoulders.

“My fucking what?“ he asked, leaning back to give her more space. Steph stole Duke’s juice and chugged it.

“Your danger twink! Tim said he kicked your ass!” She exclaimed, ducking away from Duke’s revenge smack and grinning unrepentantly at Alfred.

The butler tutted but didn’t say anything as he delivered another two plates of pancakes, coming back a second later with cutlery and a replacement cup for Duke.

Jason shot Tim a Look that went mostly unnoticed by the younger man, who looked still about half asleep as he dug into a stack. Must have been needing those three nights, especially if he agreed to so many.

Before he had to form a response, Dick cut in with a broad grin, dropping his own cutlery on a cleared plate.

“Oh no, he didn’t bring Danny today. Kid’s gotta run home for his tux so Jason can bring him on a fancy date,” he cooed, waggling his eyebrows at Jason.

Steph gasped, slamming her fists down on the table and setting everything bouncing. A quick swipe from Duke saved the juice, Dick dived for the syrup, and Jason kicked back from the table and away from his own falling cup, Cass pulling her feet up to skid with him.

Tim, completely missing an attempted stab at his pancakes as the plate bounced, gave the table a very suspicious look. Alfred gave him a fond smile and started the coffee maker.

Steph ignored all consequences.

“JASON! You already told them about him?!” She squeaked, half way across the table.

“Should have been up early, you missed all the spoilers,” Duke teased, holding the juice up and away incase she turned on him.

Which she did, clearly thinking about tickling, and saw the juice perilously close to over her head. And reconsidered.

Unable to match that firepower, she settled on ignoring the comment as though it were beneath her. Which put Jason back in her line of fire.

Hooking an arm around behind the chair, he scooped Cass into his lap as a human shield. She settled obligingly into place, tapping his shoulder for attention as she signed.

‘Coming to gala?’

Must be a nonverbal day. Not that Jason minded; their present siblings were loud enough for a whole squadron on their own. He liked that she was different; liked that she’d missed touch as much as he had, and the way she’d never move away.

Cuddling with Cass was one of the reasons he’d come back to the family at all. And one of the main reasons he’d stayed.

Alfred didn’t comment, placing her plate and cutlery in front of Jason’s spot as he scooched them both back to the table. Once he was sure she was comfy, Jason let his arms fall around her waist so she could eat.

“Yeah, he’s coming, if I can get Bruce to put him on the guest list. Are you coming, Cass?”

She didn’t bother looking around at him, lowering her knife for a moment to sign a firm ‘yes’ and he grinned, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Steph?” He asked, cocking a brow at the blonde.

Steph narrowed her eyes at him, taking a slow and deliberate bite of pancake.

“This feels like a trap,” she complained through a mouthful of food, accepting Alfred’s withering look as he placed a fresh black coffee in front of Tim.

This did at least serve to bring Tim back to life, even if there was less than no effect on Steph.

“What’s a trap?” He asked muzzily, fighting a yawn and chugging the coffee in one.

“Coming to the gala to meet Jason’s new booooyfriend,” Dick teased, ruffling Tim’s hair as he ran his plate to the dishwasher.

The younger swatted at his hand a full ten seconds too late, then huffed and got back to his pancakes.

Jason wondered if Danny might have some magic ghost powers that’d get the little fucker to sleep. He’d be replacing Jason in a grave at this rate.

And no matter what he might have thought early on, Jason’d die again himself before letting that happen. Or bribe the king of the dead.

The mention of the gala also served to perk him up though, and he gave Jason a suspicious frown.

“So he is a new boyfriend?” He asked, straightening and scooting closer to the table to rejoin the land of the living.

Jason shrugged.

“He’s coming to the gala, once I talk to-”

“Well I know you’re not talking about one of your siblings, not if he’s coming willingly,” the man himself said from the door, smiling when he saw the table full of most of his brood.

Which on Bruce, meant a barely there twitch of the lips. One they all recognised but still.

Brucie Wayne had beaming smiles for days.

Jason stiffened minutely against an anticipated wave of green, and felt almost lightheaded when nothing happened. Nothing but Cass leaning back into him a little more, one hand coming to cover his at her hip.

Of course she noticed. Turning his hand into hers he gave it a reassuring squeeze, then nodded to Bruce.

“Yeah, I came by to ask if I could add a plus one to the guest list? He won’t be arriving with me but I’d like you all to meet him.”

Visible surprise passed across Bruce’s face, which was a fun rarity, and Jason hid a smirk. Which faltered in the face of an almost wistful look, there and gone so fast he might have missed it.

And then Bruce was just his usual stoic self again, taking his own seat at the table while Dick bartered for more pancakes. If he put some work into it he could probably get some enjoyment from the stick up his ass.

“It’s your party Jason, you can add whoever you want to the guest list,” Bruce said calmly, like Jason had had any input whatsoever on the list so far.

Ideally he’d have cut more than half of it, but the whole point was to reintroduce him to “high society”.

He was still semi-seriously considering Dick’s offer to find him a cotillion gown for the evening. Less so now that Danny was coming.

For now he just nodded, giving Cass a quick squeeze.

“Who else is coming from the family?” He asked, mostly to the rest of the table as he turned from Bruce.

It was too weird to look at him, waiting for the pit to rise and not feeling anything. He wasn’t even sure how much of it was his own actual anger and what was just anticipation.

Cass raised a hand again and he gave her a quick jostle with his knees, making her giggle.

“I know you are, smart ass.”

“Just Cass, as far as I-“ Bruce began, cut off almost immediately as Dick swooped in to grab his seat, fresh pancakes in hand. So much for the dishwasher.

“Me too! I’m coming, Jaybird’s been telling us alllllll about his new boyfriend and he sounds great,” he declared firmly, also very much relishing in the flicker of surprise across Bruce’s face.

Steph chewed her lip, visibly considering her options, then sighed heavily.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” she agreed with a huff, “Jason only told those two and I wanna see him too.”

Duke, the other of “those two” as marked by Steph’s fork, grinned and rose from the table, both hands in the air.

“I’m out, I’m gonna be patrolling too close to the party start to get presentable in time,” he said cheerfully, snagging his and Jason’s glasses for the dishwasher.

“You could always come later in the evening,” Bruce offered, the hope in his voice only noticeable to his kids who knew him best.

“Nah, I’ll be out early too,” Duke cut in smoothly, giving Jason a nod, “but I’ll meet Danny later. Want me to go see if Damian and Jon are up?”

“His name is Danny?” Steph demanded, eyes narrowing as she zeroed back in on Jason. “Family name?”

“So you can stalk him?” Jason shot back, sticking his tongue out at her. “Detect it yourself. And nah, either I’ll see them before I go or on patrol tonight. I came by to see who was coming and warn you all to back off anyway.”

“Damian hasn’t said he’ll be attending, but if you’d like him to,” Bruce began, and Jason cut him off again, half wondering how long they could keep the streak going.

“Nah, it’s not like me and Danny are gonna be a one and done thing. He’ll have time to meet the demon brat later,” he added while Steph squealed.

Bruce had his pinchy bitch face on again and Jason had to admit, it wasn’t just the pit. He also did not like the guy.

But seeing as Bruce alternated between treating him like a rabid animal and overbearing “paternal affection”, Jason was giving himself a break on this one.

On his way to the door Duke paused, turning back and grinning at Jason.

“Oh, before I go. Tell ‘em the best part, Jason. What you told me before Dick got here,” he added when Jason looked momentarily confused.

Dick, highly offended, looked for a piece of Jason to poke that wasn’t covered by Cass.

“What! You left out the best part!” He bemoaned as Steph laughed at him.

It took Jason a moment to work out what Duke was talking about. He hadn’t told Duke anything funny or scandalous before Dick attacked. Except…

Yeah, that’d get Bruce’s panties in a twist.

Arms still hooked around Cass’s waist, partially to give Dick less targets, Jason watched the old man from the corner of his eye.

“Oh yeah. He’s been helping me with the pit,” he said innocently.

Silence but for the gentle sizzle of Alfred’s cooking choked the room. And lasted for a whole thirty seconds before erupting.

About an hour later Jason was leaving the manor again, the smile on his face satisfied if not particularly joyful.

Bruce had tried for an interrogation, but with Cass in his lap and Alfred glaring shotguns over his head, he hadn’t gotten far. Steph was declaring it True Love.

Dick had settled down immediately, which Jason had kinda expected. He’d had more pieces to put together than the others after the graveyard.

Tim was speed-googling every Danny in the city, and Jason half considered giving him a fake last name just to see what happened. Buuut Tim had slept last night, which meant they should be nice to him.

See if they could make it a habit. Jason maintained Tim wasn’t a dog to be pavlov’d, but he wasn’t the one who’d dated the guy. Steph insisted it could work.

And once Bruce had been silently threatened by every waking member at least once, Jason told him he’d text first and last name for the guest list. That the first name wouldn’t be “Daniel” might raise a brow, but hey.

It was Jason’s party.

Bruce could research Tucker Foley all he wanted to, right up until tomorrow evening. Maybe Jason’d send the message late.

Pulling out his phone, he shot a quick message off to the Team Phantom group chat.

‘JTodd: Tuck’s on the list. Also, two of my nosey bastard brothers saw us on my bike yesterday, so they think Danny’s my boyfriend. Also that Danny is my mystery plus one. Can we add them to the fuckery list?’

Three sets of scrolling dots appeared immediately, which meant all three were already up. Good to know.

Without waiting for an immediate reply, Jason stuffed his phone into his pocket and hopped onto his bike.

Him having a “secret boyfriend” would only add to the drama they were hoping to cause. Too bad he wouldn’t be seeing any of the gang in person before the gala, but they’d have plenty of time to plot.

***

Danny’s morning started a couple of hours later than Jason’s, and with much less breakfast incentives. No pancakes in this college kid’s life, and who needed them when he had a lifetime supply of Lucky Charms?

Unless he could make Lucky Charms pancakes. Now that would be perfection.

He didn’t bother getting dressed before eating either, secluding himself and his bowl straight back into bed to pull out his laptop.

They’d made a brand new group chat last night, one for just Sam, Tucker, and him. Sam had insisted they’d have some planning to do and Danny, fully aware they meant “grilling him endlessly about Jason Todd”, was more than happy to pop up a chat Jazz couldn’t see.

She’d have So Many Thoughts on them meeting in a graveyard. Hard pass. Hopefully she wouldn’t be able to scroll back through last night’s mess far enough for that part of the story.

They’d also planned a video call for this morning, which was basically why Danny was up before noon. Comfortably tucked into bed, he booted up his laptop and started the call.

Sam popped on first of course, already fully dressed and immaculately made up. She was also looming over her webcam like she was ready to pounce.

“Alright Danny, spill. When the fuck did you learn Jason Todd was a halfa?” She demanded.

Used to her by now, Danny took a noisy slurp of cereal milk. Sam rolled her eyes and pointed firmly at the lens.

“I will ask my parents to lend you one of Dad’s ties Danny, I swear I will.”

And that made Danny flinch. Mr Manson’s “ties” were never just a tie; each one had matching cufflinks, pocket squares, and a forty minute lecture on returning all items in pristine condition.

He wasn’t even sure the suit Jazz and Sam had helped him buy could take cufflinks. Most people in this century used buttons.

Lowering the bowl, he raised a hand in unequivocal surrender.

“Look, Tucker’s not even on yet, I don’t wanna have to answer the same questions twice. I swear I told you guys the truth last night!” He added when Sam’s eyes narrowed.

Folding her arms, she sat heavily back onto her bed and continued to glare, but all looming operations ceased. Close enough; she was willing to wait.

Danny relaxed as well, taking another spoonful of cereal.

“So, how’s Val?” He asked to fill the time.

And grinned when Sam’s expression immediately softened. She had it fucking Bad.

“She’s fine. Swears she isn’t pissed that my parents won’t let her come, but she wants back in the group chat. I didn’t tell her about Jason yet,” she added with another roll of her eyes when Danny opened his mouth, still chewing, “she just has some thoughts on shit you can get up to.”

That last part made Danny frown a little and he paused to swallow before speaking.

“Wait, you didn’t tell her about Jason? Why?” Sure, they hadn’t gotten that far into the full Phantom Personal History last night, but they would eventually. Especially if she went back into the chat.

Sam gave him a withering look.

“Because we ask Jason who he’s happy with learning that he’s half dead,” she said slowly, like he was stupid.

Which, fair. Danny had kept his own secret for so long he’d kind of forgotten it was a secret to keep. But…

“The whole world knows he died, and they’re all gonna learn he’s back tomorrow,” he pointed out, adding more cereal to the dregs of his milk.

Sam pressed her hands together, probably praying to Clockwork for patience.

“Danny I swear I will add Jazz to this call and have her give you the consent rant,” she said sweetly, in her most innocent Manson Party Voice.

Danny snickered into his cereal, fully aware he’d be hearing a lot more of that voice soon.

“You’re swearing a lot today Sam, wake up cranky?” He teased and grinned when she flipped him off.

“Anyway, do you wanna text Jason and check he’s cool with looping her in or should I message the chat?” She asked, already scooping up her own phone.

Danny hesitated for a second, glancing at the clock. Like he had any idea what schedule the guy operated on.

“I’ll text him later, he said he was gonna go deal with his family this morning to get Tuck on the invite list. And speak of the devil!” He cheered as the third window popped open, a sleepy Tucker in frame.

Clearly still in bed too, Tucker wiped drool from his chin and waved.

“Hey, sorry guys, I’m here… slow morning,” he said, like it was an anomaly.

Sam rolled her eyes, then tugged her laptop in and loomed over the camera again.

“So Danny, tell me when you found out Jason Todd was a halfa,” she demanded again, and Danny snickered some more.

“That’d be way more menacing if you hadn’t done it five minutes ago,” he pointed out and she flipped him off again.

“Eat dick, Fenton. Jason’s. Do you seriously expect me to believe you met that guy yesterday? You were sending us selfies from his fucking lap.”

Danny frowned, scooping more cereal into his mouth and swallowing half of it whole.

“Hey, he’s just a touchy guy! Also, his couch is shit and just that small.”

“And Jason himself is fucking enormous,” Tucker snorted, moving momentarily out of screen as he sat up and stretched, then repositioned his laptop.

“And that,” Danny acknowledged, pointing to Tuck. Hoping that’s where Tuck’s feed showed on Sam’s computer. She still didn’t look impressed.

“Dude. You’ve been in Gotham for like, a year. You didn’t know there was another halfa running around?” She asked sceptically.

Danny rolled his eyes back, see how she liked it.

“Yeah, because we all advertise on Craig’s List. He didn’t know he was a halfa until yesterday! And it’s not like I run around in the same social circles as Bruce Fucking Wayne.”

“Yeah, but you kinda do now though,” Tucker pointed out, visibly waking up as excitement flashed in his eyes, “which reminds me, can Jason get you any of the new Wayne Tech? I’d kill to get my hands on their newest tablet.”

“Okay one, no expanding my kingdom,” Danny scolded, raising a finger and then flipping up a second, “and two, you didn’t see this guy’s place. It was kinda a shithole, and I live in a dorm. I don’t think he’s that close to the family.”

Sam gave him her very best deadpan look, only slightly withered by screens and distance.

“We are literally going to a high society ball tomorrow in his honour, Danny. I think Bruce likes him just fine.”

Danny dropped his fingers and just wiggled the whole hand in the air beside his head.

“Eh, unlikely? I dunno, something went on with them when Jason died, or when he came back maybe, Jay won’t speak about it. But he didn’t want me to tell Bruce anything.”

Didn’t want it to get back to Batman, but they were withholding that particular detail from the rest of the team for now. These were the people Danny trusted with his secret, and now with Jason’s, but that one wasn’t theirs to tell.

Tucker rolled his eyes too, throwing both hands into the air.

“Then Bruce is clearly trying to buy back into his good graces, and guilt’s gotta be worth at least two new tablets!” He declared passionately.

Danny snorted most of a laugh through his nose, discarding his now-empty bowl onto the floor beside his bed.

“Look, I’ll ask, but no promises. They probably don’t want hackers cracking them right off the line,” he added with a smirk.

Tucker put on his very best offended face.

“Daniel, you wound me! I am no mere hacker! I am the sweet and loving god of technology, and I neeeeeeed a sacrifice!”

“Ew, don’t use the Vlad-nickname,” Sam hissed, flailing a pillow at the camera.

Tucker obligingly dropped onto his bed like she’d actually hit him, rolling through the sheets.

“Okay but the rest of my point stands!” A sudden thought occurred and he shot back up, snatching desperately at his laptop to keep it from falling to the floor. “WAIT! Danny, can he get me an internship?!”

Danny rolled his eyes, stuffing his fist into the cereal box to grab a dry handful. He was gonna need more sugar for this bullshit.

“Wrong Wayne adoptee, you’re thinking of Tim Drake. I dunno if he’ll even be at the gala, but you could always ask him,” he added thoughtfully, glancing at his phone.

Jason hadn’t known who else would be there from his side, beyond Bruce himself. Danny wasn’t quite sure if he wanted any of his brothers or sisters to come either.

For all they’d shared life secrets and soul underwear, he still didn’t know much about Jason’s day to day life.

Which wasn’t surprising. They’d properly known each other for a day.

It was just that he’d never met a halfa his age, who wasn’t his clone. Of course he wanted to know all about Jason. What he did, where he went, who was important in his life.

It was just regular curiosity. Totally normal.

Tucker was a gasping ball of delight at just the potential chance to meet Tim himself, while Sam lectured them both about “no ethical consumption under capitalism”.

Danny stuffed another handful of cereal into his mouth and looked back at his phone.

Jason was probably up now.

He could probably just text him.

He could ask for Tucker if Tim would be at the gala.

He could ask what Jason was wearing to the gala, and if he knew how the fuck cufflinks worked.

His phone buzzed like he’d willed the message to appear and he snatched it up, opening directly to the group chat. It was Jason!

Tucker and Sam had gone quiet too, both checking their phones at the same time. Sam let out a triumphant laugh and began typing, even as Tucker whooped and joined in.

Probably asking if Tim Drake was coming.

Danny tapped out a couple of emojis before the rest of the message sunk in. They thought he and Jason were dating?

He could feel the heat creeping up his face as Sam looked up at the camera again, at exactly the wrong moment.

“Hey Danny, did you see?” She cooed sweetly, an utter shit eating grin on her face. “The rest of the Waynes sure think you’ve known each other for more than a day.”

Danny dropped his phone, message unsent.

“Yeah but they saw us for like a second, what would they know?“ he asked quickly, shooting for nonchalant and fully aware he’d missed by a mile.

Tucker cackled, sending off a message and then grinning back up at the call.

“I dunno, they might be onto something, those selfies you sent us were pretty cute,” he added slyly.

Danny flipped him off, scrabbling through the sheets for his buzzing phone.

“Cuz I’m fucking adorable. I don’t even know if he likes guys, or anyone at all, he’s just a new friend!”

“And the only member of your whole species that isn’t your clone or creepy beyond belief,” Sam cut in, sending off her own message too, “you might have a social responsibility.”

“To repopulate halfas?” Danny asked, rolling his eyes and finally snatching his phone back up, scanning their messages. “Shame we’re both men and that’s physically impossible.”

‘TechMasterF: Thanks dude! Always down to help fuck with family. Any idea who’ll be there?’

‘2Goth2Glorious: oh that’s perfect, we gotta keep them away from my parents… or let them think Danny’s stringing us both along 😈’

Well, Tucker was being surprisingly discrete. Good for him.

“I dunno, you could just shove more people into those ectoplasm pools that made Jason,” Tucker pointed out thoughtfully, now typing away on his laptop. Clearly had another window open.

Danny rolled his eyes, finally shooting off his own string of emojis. He was. Just not gonna address the dating thing.

“Somehow I don’t think it’s that easy, apparently a bunch of people have gone in and we don’t know how many changed or are just liminals.”

‘DannyP: 🙌🙌🎊🎊🐼🍷’

‘DannyP: definitely adding them to the fuckery list’

He knew the message had reached the group because Sam and Tucker both glanced at their phones, then groaned in unison.

“Dude, way to make him think you’re not interested,” Tucker sighed, wiggling his phone.

“It sounds like you’re insulted they’d think it,” Sam agreed firmly.

Danny stared at them, then down at his phone.

“Fucking how?? All I did was answer his question! And maybe I’m not interested,” he added quickly when Sam began to smirk.

“Give me a minute, I’m gonna work out how to delete your messages,” Tucker said solemnly, attention switching fully back to his phone.

“Hey, fuck off!” Danny half chuckled, shaking his head.

Sam sighed, speaking slowly again. It was her own damn fault for hauling them both up before noon if they were slow.

“Danny, you haven’t sent a message without emojis since you learned about emoticons. For you? It looks like you’re mad,” she explained, and Danny pouted, scrolling quickly back up through the chat.

Fuck. She had a point.

Jason hadn’t popped up on the read receipts yet, so he quickly swiped to delete the message.

“Okay but again, me and Jason don’t know each other all that well,” he protested, now staring at the empty message box and wondering what the fuck to type.

There wasn’t an emoji for “oh ancients your family thinks we’re dating and we’re totally not but not because you’re not a catch”.

Knowing Jason for long or not, those hints of low self esteem were pretty obvious. Danny saw them every day in the mirror. No wonder Sam and Tuck noticed over texts.

Okay, he might have noticed the lack of emojis. Being Robin probably meant overthinking everything when playing detective.

Sam sighed and actually poked the lens of her webcam.

“If I see a laughing emoji I am going to slap you tomorrow,” she said firmly.

Danny quickly hit backspace.

“Well what the fuck do you think I should say to that then?” He asked sharply.

Tucker sighed, abandoning his phone in favour of the laptop again.

“I dunno Danny, have you been flirting?” He asked, tone suggesting it was a rhetorical question.

Which was bullshit. It’s not like Danny and Jason had relayed all their conversations. No reason for him to know they’d been calling their meet ups “dates”.

That probably didn’t count as flirting anyway, they were just fucking around.

“Yeah, right after he read me Romeo and Juliet on his grave,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes extra hard to get his point across.

Tucker had the sheer audacity to laugh at him.

“Okay but you know that move would be a slam dunk on Sam,” he said with a sly look to the left. Must be where Sam showed on his screen.

The lady in question rolled her eyes and flipped Tuck off too, giving the camera a flat look.

“Danny, that is in fact called flirting.”

“It totally isn’t!” Danny argued, at least partially panicking.

Jason wasn’t flirting with him. Jason couldn’t be flirting with him. Danny might have been flirting with Jason, but that certainly didn’t mean the guy was flirting back!

Sam gave him a second secret even flatter look, then sighed and shook her head.

“I will never hear a single word from you about me and Val being “disaster lesbians” again, Danny Fenton,” she said firmly, and Danny huffed.

That wasn’t fucking fair. Sam and Val had been goddamn adorable when they were awkwardly flirting back and forth, both certain the other wasn’t interested.

This just couldn’t be the same situation.

Tuck snickered at both of them indiscriminately, glancing down at his phone.

“Yeah, well, Jason hasn’t messaged back yet so we’ll see. We picking up a Fenton Phone for him tonight too?” He asked suddenly, frowning at the camera.

Danny shrugged and nodded.

“Yeah, gotta come get you and a suit anyway so I figured I’d swing through Amity Park. Mom and Dad promised to take Jazz out so the lab’ll be empty.”

Which wasn’t technically a necessity anymore, since the Fenton parents were in on the secret. It was just an emotional necessity, because if Sam and Tuck were already this bad they’d be so much worse.

Probably try and send some message to Bruce Wayne congratulating him on being their new brother in law.

Nope.

No fucking way.

They had no one to blame but themselves.

***

New Years Eve came.

Jason was beginning to wish it hadn’t.

Dick had been as good as his word, sweeping Jason away to a tailor in the better parts of Gotham who took one look at Dick and told him to fuck off.

Finally, Jason had a suit made by a man with both good taste and the ability to read the room. He didn’t even condescend to either of them, with no witnesses at all.

Jason kept his card. Heavens forbid he need to go to more galas, but at least he could be well dressed now.

He hadn’t worn a proper suit since he was knee high, felt like. Dick insisted he looked fantastic, both at the tailor’s shop and tonight, giving him a sweeping once over and a wolf whistle.

Jason looked in the mirror and mostly saw Bruce, except for the shock of white hair. Kinda hated that.

He’d agreed to come to the manor first rather than going straight to the gala, which was being held at one of the city’s numerous ballrooms. Cheaper for Bruce when the inevitable rogue attack happened.

He was being reintroduced as Bruce’s ward, it made sense for them to arrive together. And Jason was maybe just a little smug that there were now enough of his siblings coming that they had to take a limo.

No sentimental heart to hearts in the back seat while he choked down rage for this asshole.

Cass had her own suit, blacker than black with a black undershirt. She made an adorable baby goth, the only pop of colour the red embroidery on her collar.

Jason hadn’t put it together until she’d tapped it and signed to him, ‘yours’. She was wearing his Red Hood colours, and the urge to laugh just about beat out the urge to cry.

Dick was a little more traditional, black suite, white shirt, emerald green tie. Matching Jason, except Jason had gone for blue. Tim matched them both except for the deeply sullen look on his face.

(Dick confided in a whisper that he’d still spent the night at the manor, even after deciding he’d come to the gala. Alfred had switched immediately from the bribe not to go to threatening not to let Tim go if he didn’t have enough sleep to look presentable.)

Steph had shown up after all, in a long sweeping dress that was almost the same purple as her suit, cut short enough not to get in her way if she had to run. Or go up and down stairs, conveniently, so she had a civilian excuse.

Even Damian was present, looking extremely suspicious of the lot of them. He’d wasted no time telling Jason that he was there solely to assess this “Danny” and determine if he was worthy of joining the family.

Jason kinda considered slipping away to send Danny a warning text that he might be getting a shovel talk. Decided against it.

Watching the boy king of the dead being menaced by an actual baby was just too funny to miss.

Jason hadn’t deliberately waited til most of the family were in the car on purpose, but was rather pleased to find his siblings had been thinking of him.

Bruce was stuck down at one end of the car, Dick and Steph sandwiching him in while Steph talked animatedly to Cass on the closest side seat, Tim and then Damian beside her. Jason would be damn near at the other end of the vehicle.

Obviously Bruce had noticed despite Dick’s passionate and ongoing monologue about how funding Bludhaven’s police might mean less officers fell to bribery (which even Dick knew was bullshit). He seemed resigned more than anything.

The drive was quick and loud, and Jason had to wonder if he could have handled it at all with the pit before.

His… anticipation. Definitely anticipation.

Resignation.

Not fear.

Whatever he was feeling, it had garnered some attention, and the waters were shifting much sooner than they had after the last time he saw Danny.

He’d spent more than half the day on the couch, hugging Frostbite’s ghost succulent to his chest. It hadn’t noticeably helped, but maybe it had done something.

He’d spent the drive gently needling Damian about Cass wearing her suit better instead of fighting down green. That was a result in his books.

Cass wore her suit better than both of them combined. No matter how she felt, she didn’t look like she wanted to shrug her skin off. Jason was getting the hang of that still.

And now… now it was just the red carpet, the flashing cameras, and some asshole in an over starched suit announcing the Wayne Clan’s arrival.

Jason sucked in a breath, trying not to tense as his hand found the door handle. This wasn’t a fight. He wasn’t going into combat. He��d be fine.

Combat was much more fun. Even when he got shot, he was allowed to shoot people back.

His situational awareness was fully shot though, because he didn’t notice Bruce until the taller (fucker) man’s hand covered his.

“Allow me,” the older man said softly, those all too perceptive eyes tracking over Jason’s face. “I should get out first. Let them get a few shots to settle down, and then we all go in and you don’t have to do anything but stand for the speech.”

Jason fucking hated the part of himself that still wanted to lean in. To nod and let Bruce take the lead like a good little soldier.

And maybe he should, Bruce had done this way more than him, had always done his best to shield his wards from it. To his credit, he’d pretty much succeeded.

But Jason wasn’t a little kid anymore, and the one time he’d needed Bruce’s shield it hadn’t come.

He pushed the door open himself and stepped out, pulling on a smile at the last second.

Coming “back to life” meant back to the Wayne name, but let no one think he was still hiding behind Bruce.

On some level Bruce must have understood that, because there was a short pause before he followed him, all wide Brucie smile and fond affection. A warm hand clapped on Jason’s shoulder, almost the least they could be touching and still play happy families.

Then Damian followed, Tim and the girls, and finally Dick, throwing an arm around his shoulders and “coincidentally” tugging him away from Bruce’s hand.

He owed the guy a drink. And possibly some reassurance that he wasn’t actually going to bite Bruce for touching him.

They stayed for a moment for the family photos, then Dick cheerfully messed up Jason’s hair and they made their way up the carpet and into the event. Bruce was taken aside for a moment by an attendant and then they were being announced like it was a fucking Regency novel.

There was the slightest hint of a chance that Bruce had set it up with Jason in mind specifically. Not asked him if he wanted it or checked in, just gone ahead and done it.

That wasn’t what Jason liked about his classics, but the thought was warm in a soft way he hadn’t associated with Bruce in a long time.

They were about to disperse, the rest probably on the hunt for Danny, when Bruce caught Jason’s eye and nodded to a quiet spot. Sucking in a breath, Jason followed.

He’d been prepared to go through tonight with the pit in his ear, back when he thought it wasn’t optional. He could do it as just himself. No sweat.

Bruce waited a moment after Jason joined him, glancing around the room and lowering his voice below easy eavesdropping range.

“Your plus one has arrived, Jason. Would you like to make introductions now, or just go and join him? He seems a little… unaccustomed to these events, apparently,” he added with a sympathetic half smile.

None of them liked these events, but Jason had assumed Tucker would be arriving with Sam and Danny. Apparently not, as a quick scan of the room produced only one signature red beret.

By the refreshments. Perfect.

Jason even managed a smile of his own for Bruce, and felt more sad than angry at the flicker of surprise. He knew exactly how they’d come to this, yet… all he’d wanted was a home.

“I’ll go check on him. We’ll catch up with you later,” he added with a short nod.

He did want to introduce Danny and his friends to his siblings. And maybe to Bruce too. But that could come later.

He still had to officially meet Tucker first.

A slight smile pulling across his lips, he made his way across the hall to that trademarked red beret.

The bat siblings took a moment to put their heads together while Bruce and Jason talked, finalising their plan of attack.

“Alright, I think we need two teams. Tim and I will split so we each have someone who’s seen Danny,” Dick whispered, giving Tim a nod as he scanned the room.

Steph nodded firmly, liking her arm through Tim’s.

“I’ll take Tim and Damian to be my top stealth operative. You take Cass for yours. Stay within around 10 feet of each other but not obviously together, no need to let anyone think something’s up. Tim stay in the middle, so you can signal us if necessary,” she commanded and the others all nodded.

Damian pouted just a little, but he wasn’t about to argue with being put on stealth. It meant less talking to people.

They split apart, all doing their most charming smiles, just in time to see Jason moving purposefully across the room.

“Well shit, here we go,” Dick chuckled, offering Cass his arm. She slipped a hand into the crook of his elbow and let him guide her off in the same general direction as Jason.

Tim, Steph, and Damian split up, meandering gently along the other side of Jason’s path. Dick turned a beaming smile on a nearby couple that were moving in close enough the same direction.

Gala talk never went beyond surface level anyway, so it was easy to keep up the conversation while watching Jason make his way to the refreshments. And… joined someone.

Dick’s brow furrowed.

“That’s not him,” Tim hissed into Steph’s ear, catching her at one end of the drinks table.

Steph stopped, frowned, and looked down towards the middle, where Jason was chatting amicably with a young Black man in an off-the-rack suit.

“Are you sure?” She hissed back, leaning back towards him to reach for a glass.

Tim gave her a flat look.

“The guy at Jason’s was white. I’m not that tired,” he said flatly and Steph stifled a giggle.

“Yeah, okay, I believe you. So who’s that?”

“That would be Tucker Foley, the man Jason added to the guest list,” Damian said smartly, coming to Tim’s other side and passing Steph a glass.

Both turned to face him and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I checked Father’s phone this morning.”

Straightening, Steph took a careful sip of her juice, turning so her back was to the table.

“I checked last night, Jason hadn’t sent anything,” she whispered and Damian smirked.

“The message was from 9am. I believe he wanted to give Father less time to research him.”

“And us,” Tim agreed with a huff, grabbing his own drink at random. And hastily putting it back when it stank of whiskey.

“Apparently effectively,” Damian noted smugly, looking across the floor. Following his gaze, Tim saw Bruce pretending he wasn’t also watching Jason and his new friend.

Fighting a grin, Tim grabbed a glass that matched Steph’s instead.

“Yeah, okay, I’m less mad. Wanna try and get closer, demon brat?”

By the time he’d glanced down, Damian was already gone.

Steph hid her smile in another slow sip, then straightened and moved away from the table.

“I’ll be around. Oooh shit Dick’s moving in, not missing that,” she said suddenly, walking away at speed.

Tim spun back around and groaned. Okay, the oldest wasn’t the most subtle of the bats by a fucking long shot, but they should have at least had a minute.

With a philosophical shrug, he headed away just off Steph’s path to find his own eavesdropping spot. It’s not like they were trying to hide from Jason specifically.

Just his new friend.

Tucker had lit up like a sunbeam when Jason called out, turning to give him a once over and grinning.

“Okay, holy shit, how are you even bigger in person? I’d almost think you were a Fenton,” he exclaimed as Jason drew closer.

Jason didn’t bother trying to hide his curiosity.

“Oh? Danny’s not that tall.” Which had made it all the better when Danny took him to the floor, honestly.

Tucker’s grin widened.

“Danny’s dad is 6’9, and Jazz is 6’4. We think Clocky’s holding Danny’s growth spurt hostage til he takes the crown,” Tucker explained easily, deeply satisfied with the way Jason’s eyes widened.

Okay, the thought of Danny looming over him was not one he was prepared to deal with. Shaking his head like that’d help, he gave Tuck a curious look.

“I thought you were gonna be arriving with Danny and Sam by the way, are they around?” He couldn’t imagine they’d have left Tucker alone.

Tucker did look a lot more comfortable than he’d feared though, grabbing a few more of the delicate canapés.

“Yeah, Danny got me this afternoon, but then we thought it’d be funnier if Sam’s parents didn’t know I’m a guest of honour. Like a one-two punch when Danny’s Sam’s date,” he explained, then waved a hand. “It’s not the worst just waiting.”

Jason took a moment to glance around, clocking all five of his siblings and resisting the urge to wave. Barely. Another fun thought occurred.

“So do you want me to make myself scarce when they get here? Let them see you, and then drop that you’re a guest of honour?” He asked innocently, and Tucker’s eyes gleamed.

If Danny hadn’t told him both his friends were still living humans, he might have wondered. But apparently there was still a whole lot that none of them understood.

Jason had gotten through the entire ghost database Team Phantom had gifted him, and he had questions. But those would have to wait for another, less fun day.

Tucker nodded happily, looking around and back towards the entrance.

“Oh fucking yes, can you just kinda hover and then I’ll say hi? Let them get a couple sentences in before you come say hello?” He asked eagerly, and Jason grinned back.

Today was for fun. And crime. Gala crime, and not the inevitable rogue attack, the fun kind.

Fuck it was nice to have the chance to have fun.

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Also, my older brother is coming up behind you,” he continued innocently and Dick groaned, abandoning the sneak attempt and closing the rest of the distance, Cass still on his arm.

“Jason! I was trying to be cool and discrete,” he huffed, giving his little brother the puppy eyes before moving on to grin at Tucker. “Hey, as Jaybird says, I’m his brother Dick, this is our little sister Cass, and you are?”

And Jason maybe fell the littlest bit in love with Tucker as he turned to Dick, most innocent smile you’ve ever seen in your life on his face, and said,

“Oh hey, nice to meet you! I’m Danny.”

Dick’s sheer confusion lasted just long enough for Tucker to register it too, then he held out a hand to shake.

“Oh, really? Would you be the Danny Jason was telling us about at breakfast the other day?” He asked carefully, eyes flicking between Tucker and Jason.

Jason kept his smile utterly opaque. Tucker took the offered hand, innocent as anything.

“Well I wouldn’t know anything about that, Dick, but Jason did say he’d be getting me on the guest list, and here I am! It’s great to meet you both, Jason’s had only nice things to say.”

Which seemed to surprise Dick again, but not Cass as she smiled up at Jason.

She, of course, was already onto them. It was damn near impossible to get a lie past Cass but she could be quickly persuaded to join in with any fuckery.

Jason tipped her a quick wink while Dick went down some internal pathways and her smile widened, giving just the slightest hint of a nod back.

Sweet angel baby sister.

Dick was doing his best to make innocent, normal, definitely-not-interrogation conversation and Tucker was very happy to oblige him.

Absolutely none of them expected Tucker to turn and cheerfully address his next comment to the table.

“Yeah, well, Gotham’s a beautiful city but I bet this kind of event can get a little dull for the younger crowd, right?”

Immediately Jason scanned the area for Damian while Dick did his very best mildly-confused-puppy face.

“Uh… what do you mean, Danny?” He asked carefully, glancing in the direction Tucker was looking.

Tucker grinned at him and pointed down.

“Someone’s kid is hiding under the table. Pretty harmless way to keep out of trouble, right?” Tuck asked cheerfully.

Jason’s eyebrows shot into his hairline when Damian reluctantly crawled out from under the table, rising to frown up at the taller boy.

It made a kind of sense? Amity Park’s version of the rogues gallery was actual, literal ghosts and Tucker had been fighting them since he was Damian’s age. Being more observant than most went with the territory.

But he really wasn’t shy about outing himself at all.

Dick picked up the trailing question, knowing full well Damian wouldn’t, and pulled on his best Public Relations smile. He’d definitely noticed.

“Oh, yeah, this is our youngest brother Damian! He doesn’t really do parties,” he added by way of explanation when Damian just kept glowering.

Tucker nodded agreeably, giving Damian a nod of his own.

“I’m gonna have to introduce you to Sam, Damian, you guy’s’ll get along great! She hates these kinds of events too,” he added by way of explanation, apparently completely missing at least three bats zooming in on the information.

“Sam? Do you know someone else who’s coming?” Dick asked with very convincing casual curiosity.

Tucker just nodded again, as open as a well thumbed book, picking at his little plate of canapés.

“Oh yeah, Sam Manson, from Amity Park. She should be here soon, she’s a good friend. She always hides behind the fake plants,” he told Damian, winking conspiratorially.

If looks could kill, Tucker would have become a ghost.

Fully aware that at least two of his siblings were about to be doing some frantic googling, Jason took Tucker’s arm and turned him from the table.

“Well, we should get out of the way so the other guests can get at the food. Has anyone given you the tour, Tucker?” He asked, definitely not grinning at Damian.

It wasn’t “getting caught by a civilian” bad, but Damian didn’t know that.

Tucker gave a slightly sad look back to the trays of finger foods but quickly twigged, snapping his gaze back to Jason.

“No, they haven’t. Which way are the bathrooms?”

Five bats reconvened immediately in a distant corner of the ballroom.

“That’s definitely not the same guy, right Dick?”

“He said his name was Danny, he might be some kind of chameleon meta? He and Jason definitely knew each other.”

“Did he just catch Damian? Slipping there, baby bat.”

“There is something unnatural about him,” Damian insisted firmly, shooting Steph a murderous glare that was fully ignored.

After a brief moment, all four turned their full attention to Cass. She was the human lie detector.

Cass gave them all a polite smile and half shrug.

‘Very honest. Very open. Not hiding anything,’ she signed.

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“He prattles like a fool but there is most definitely something off about him. No one as obtuse as he pretends to be would have detected my presence,” he said firmly, eyes locked with Cass’.

Tim rolled his eyes and waved a hand at the pair of them.

“Look, you slipped up Damian. None of us bothered bringing our A game to a party, it happens.”

Damian’s glare promised more cut grapple lines in Tim’s future.

“I did not slip, Drake. Todd and Grayson did not register my presence, but this boy did. And his name is Tucker Foley, not Danny,” he added sharply to Cass, “so he is also an exceptional liar.”

Tim flipped him off pretty much on principle. Dick shrugged, retaining his position as “everyones favourite brother” by not choosing sides.

“It might be a middle name or a nickname, D. He didn’t hesitate or stumble over it.”

Damian shook his head mulishly, turning a much milder glare on Dick. He pulled out his phone.

“Tucker Foley does not have a middle name, Grayson. He does have a Facebook connection named Daniel Fenton, mutual contacts with Samantha Manson.”

The other four convened on the phone screen, frowning. There indeed was Tucker’s Facebook page, which looked to have been dead for at least two years. Annual birthday messages from elderly relatives filled most of the wall.

Satisfied that they were now listening, Damian turned a sharp eyed stare on Tim.

“Drake should be next to engage. Foley is currently a student at MIT in science and technology, and his records are sealed beyond my ability to immediately break. You are the most technologically inclined and may bond with him,” he added, like they’d need an explanation.

The news made the others sit up and take notice. Any records sealed beyond what a Robin could get into, any Robin, meant better than normal encryption.

Steph already had her phone out too, browsing heavily.

“I can’t find any other trace of him,” she chimed in a moment later, frowning at the rest of the group, “the Facebook email’s definitely going somewhere, but there’s no other social media associated with it.”

Tim frowned, leaning towards her phone.

“Any leads on what his other email addresses might be? What’s the name?”

Steph flashed him her screen.

“It’s a private web server, he’s set up his own, but that’s empty too, at least at first glance. Anyone wanna text Babs?” She asked, eyes flashing from one to the other.

Dick sighed and pulled out his phone as well, glancing around the room.

“We shouldn’t be out of sight too long, people will notice. I’ll text Babs and see if she’s busy, then do some laps. See what people have to say about Foley and the Mansons. Same teams?”

Cass, who had no intention of letting anyone at these parties even suspect she could communicate with them without a translator, hooked her hand through his arm again.

Not only were people much more loose lipped when they thought you couldn’t understand them (and a certain type of asshole just knew that mute people were all stupid), she also wasn’t giving up a gold standard excuse to ignore anyone who tried to talk to her.

Tim, Damian, and Steph exchanged quick looks, then nodded.

“I’ll see if I can catch them somewhere on the tour,” Tim volunteered, nodding to Steph, “do you wanna see if anyone in our age range knows anything about Sam Manson? I’ve seen her before but never spoken to her..”

“Ours up to Dick’s, it looks like Foley’s a little younger than Jason,” she agreed, then turned to Damian, “I think you’re gonna have to stay in sight for the rest of the night though.”

Damian’s brow furrowed into its typical deep scowl lines. Boy would have wrinkles by 15.

“I shall find Father and see what he knows of Foley or the Mansons,” he decided sulkily, looking around the room.

Getting caught still stung, even if he was certain Foley was up to something suspicious. The real question was, what were Foley’s intentions?

Damian didn’t believe Todd would be willingly involved in anything that would hurt the family. Hurt Bruce, possibly, but nothing that would put any of his siblings in the potential crossfire.

The question was, what did Todd know about Foley?

Tim considered playing it subtle for about 30 seconds. Something about the look in Jason’s eye when he caught Tim’s changed his mind immediately.

Jason knew Tim and Dick had seen the real Danny. Jason was having fun. Why bother playing subtle when the game was on?

He put himself directly in their path and headed over, a nice, sociable gala smile on his face. Jason could try and duck and weave him, but that’d be obvious.

He didn’t, and even drew to a stop, something wicked in his smile as he turned to his companion.

“And this is my younger brother, Timothy Drake. Tim, this is…” he trailed off, clearly prepared to be absolutely steamrollered by the wide eyed young man.

“Tim Drake?! Hello, I’m Tucker Foley, I’m a huge fan of your work, some of the things coming out of WT this year were just incredible,” he gushed, holding out a hand to shake.

The hand was pretty much vibrating on its own. Tim took it and shook firmly, the smile growing just a little more genuine.

Score one for Demon Brat. He was a tech head. And, he noticed not hearing “Danny”. Jason didn’t seem upset, so this wasn’t the big game.

Tim wanted in on the big game.

“Hey, it’s always great to meet a fan. What kind of Wayne Tech are you rocking?”

Jason coughed suspiciously into his hand as Tucker dived into a pocket, pulling out… a weirdly clunky PDA? Definitely not something Tim had seen off the line.

“Oh, I don’t really go for prebuilt tech, but I’ve incorporated the motherboards from a couple of older WT tablets and got a couple extra gigs of RAM just to make it juicy,” he explained happily, turning it on.

Tim’s eyebrows rose as he moved in to peer at the screen. From the outside it looked like something Alfred might have used during his adventuring days, but it loaded like a dream.

Just from the few screens Tucker flicked through, Tim had to wonder just what this PDA was capable of. And maybe if he should be hanging out more in hardware hacker spaces.

Even Jason looked impressed, leaning in over Tucker’s other shoulder to watch as he ran them through a couple of different functions.

And that, the app they scrolled past super fast? That definitely said SpyWare, which was not something Tim had seen in an app store. Especially not for a device running WayneTech.

It was no Batcomputer, but for something built on older tech instead of better-than-new, it was easily the next best thing.

Tim looked back at the young man, significantly more impressed. This guy might actually be more interesting than the danger twink.

Just so long as he was on the right side.

“This is pretty cool, Tucker, I can’t wait to see what you could do with some of our newer stuff,” he said earnestly, and had the pleasure of watching the guy fucking melt.

“It would be such an honour to have you take more of a look some time, there’s soooo much I’d love to do with some of your newer tech and I have so many ideas,” Tucker absolutely gushed, and Tim stifled a laugh.

Even if he was a supervillain, Tucker Foley seemed like he’d be an easy one to handle. Hell, easy to get in his good books too.

If Jason didn’t mind him muscling in. Which, given the deeply satisfied grin on his face, he clearly didn’t.

“I’ve got some time free tomorrow, if you’re not in town for long?” Tim was genuinely considering giving this guy a job offer, an interview would save him some formalities to gather his paperwork.

And give Tim someone he knew for sure was both competent and willing to speak to him on the team. But…

Well. Jason wasn’t the only one with very few actual civilian friends. It was what made it so interesting.

And speaking of which, before Tucker could bite his hand off for the offer he raised it quickly, grinning. “On one condition.”

Tucker’s face fell just a little and Tim felt like an asshole, but Jason just raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the condition?” He asked for Tucker, who was stuck in some serious puppy eyes.

Tim smirked.

“You tell me who you’re fucking with tonight. And I want in.” No need to ask how if he could just join the game.

Tucker brightened right up too, stuffing the PDA back into a pocket that really shouldn’t have held it. Fuck Tim wanted to see more of it.

“Oh, sure! The more the merrier, right Jason?” He asked, glancing up at the taller man.

Jason shrugged, glanced around the room for a second, then nodded to a corner.

“Perfect timing, actually. Tuck, our mark is here. You go ahead and get started and I’ll fill Timmo in here as I follow.”

Turning as one, Tim and Tucker watched a well dressed couple at the top of the stairs, followed by a sullen young woman who was obviously their daughter and…

Danny. Real Danny. Arm in arm with the young woman.

Tucker’s grin was all mischief as he nodded, making a beeline for the couple.

“See you in five, guys,” he called over his shoulder.

Tim turned expectantly to Jason. Who grinned and linked an arm through his.

“Go have fun, Tuck.”

Was that why Jason was so open to Tim getting closer to his new boyfriend? If they already weren’t exclusive, that’d explain it.

Had Jason gotten himself involved in a polycule?

Danny’s New Years Eve was not going as well, hard as that may seem.

He liked to think he’d found a pretty nice suit for the event, Sam had footed the bill and sent him to her family’s outfitter. It was actually basically a smaller version of the one Mr Manson was wearing.

Sam’s parents had taken one look at him and called it cheap.

Now, the slow dawning horror on her mom’s face when Danny walked through the door? Classic. Incredible. Perfect start to the night.

First sight of Sam and the dress her parents had forced her into today? They might be burning the gala building down.

It was pastel purple. There were ruffles. There were bows. The bows were even still attached, which was an achievement on its own.

One probably only achieved because Sam had already planned her vengeance for later that day. This? This was just fuel for the fire.

He leaned closer while the parents were having their own little moment, trying to work out how they could have known and banned Danny. How they could get away with not bringing him.

“You look like Bo Peep,” he hissed from the corner of his mouth. Sam punched him.

“Shut the fuck up, you look like the Penguin,” she hissed back, eyes narrowed.

Danny snickered, watching the two adults in evening dress whipping themselves into a frenzy. His arrival had been very carefully timed; they had two minutes to get in the car or they’d be more than fashionably late.

“Think the Bat would get confused?” He asked half-interested, half wondering if Jason would save him.

Sam snorted a laugh and gave him a gentle shove, her mom reaching fever pitch in the background.

“Between you and the one person on Earth you’re taller than? Nah. Should we go get in the car?” She was about to move towards the vehicle when Danny caught her arm, grinning broadly.

“Fifty bucks for you to go give them your best baby girl eyes and ask what’s wrong.”

Sam visibly considered it, looking back at where the gesticulations were beginning to muss cuff-lines. Then she rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist.

“Nah, they’ll suspect something’s up. I want them to be surprised,” she added darkly, eyes already filled with a swirling bubbling vengeance.

Danny cackled and followed her to the door.

“Oh, that’s definitely gonna happen. I’m still having a hard fucking time believing this is real.”

The limousine ride had been tense to say the least, the older Mansons joining them just before the last second. They’d still gotten stuck in the winding trail of cars waiting to drop their guests off.

Mr Manson seemed to have resigned himself to Danny’s presence, and spent most of the ride lecturing him firmly on standards of decorum.

Every single part of Danny demanded he slump fully horizontal then and there, but Sam wanted them to be surprised, so best behaviour it was.

He let the older man correct his posture, did his best to answer seriously and respectfully, and charitably ignored Mrs Manson’s long suffering sighs. He could behave, when he wanted to.

He just wasn’t fucking going to.

He’d thought they were nearly at the fun part when the limousine finally stopped long enough for the door to open and let them out, but no. No, now they were in a standing line, waiting to be announced.

Mrs Manson had finally recovered her good mood, gushing excitedly to Sam, her husband, and the empty air above Danny about how this was Mr Wayne’s special request, such a traditional touch.

Clearly it meant the young Mr Todd was a romantic, and might be open to the idea of courting. Perhaps even looking to meet a suitable young lady.

If Danny was actually Sam’s date, he might have been offended. As it was, they were both hiding giggles behind their hands as often as they could raise them.

Finally, finally they reached the top of the stairs overlooking the main ballroom, an attendant checking an actual physical guest list before reading off the names.

Danny was going to fucking die again. The idea that rich people were actually still like this, in the twenty-first century? The laughter he was holding in would stop his heart.

And they hadn’t even gotten started.

Danny’s eyes swept the room automatically as they shuffled into place, their names called to the guests below.

Finding Jason was easy. He wasn’t the tallest man present, or even the broadest; he was in the same boring black and white penguin suit as most of the room.

He drew Danny’s gaze magnetically anyway, walking with a younger man with similar black hair and blue eyes. Probably a sibling. Jason might already be looping him in, they were making their way over.

Which meant… Danny slipped his arm down from Sam’s elbow til he could squeeze her hand, nodding subtly to the crowd.

Tucker Foley, entering stage left. From the corner of his eye he got to watch her grin go utterly feral as her parents reached the floor and Tucker stepped perfectly past the last small group.

“Mr and Mrs Manson! What a pleasure to see you here, it’s so nice to see more Amity Park faces!” He said smoothly, holding his hand out to shake.

Mrs Manson visibly recoiled, both hands snatching back to her bosom.

“You- you’re Sam’s little friend, aren’t you?” She asked sharply, gaze snapping all over his suit and stopping on his beret. She shuddered.

Tucker just kept smiling, turning to offer his hand to Mr Manson instead, who looked at it like it held something dead.

“That’s me! Tucker, remember? Isn’t this a great party? The decorations are just to die for.”

Danny stifled a snicker. No need to let on just yet as he and Sam drifted around to the side. From what he’d seen on the way over, Jason should be here soon.

“Oh, hey Tucker, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said loudly instead, reaching neatly past Mr Manson to shake his friend’s hand.

Mrs Manson very nearly slapped his hand away from it before realising that no, Danny was the other trash friend, he couldn’t be contaminated by touch.

Sam was fucking simmering in satisfaction, her hand now tucked in the crook of Danny’s elbow like a sweet little damsel. Tucker’s eyes shot over the both of them and his grin broadened.

“Yeah, it was a little last minute, but I got a VIP invite so I couldn’t say no.”

Mr Manson’s laugh was just barely on the right side of blatantly insulting as he gave Tucker a sharp once over.

“You? A VIP guest? And who are you here with?” He asked nastily.

Silly man. Tucker’d clearly already gone through the flunky gauntlet. He shoulda known there would be an answer.

And the answer appeared in the far too handsome figure of Jason Todd himself, wearing a suit that at ground level? Yeah, Danny finally understood just how a good suit could fucking highlight a man’s figure.

Jason somehow looked even broader in the shoulders, well muscled but also polished, and Danny was almost too distracted to hear his next words.

“Tucker, hey, sorry I lost you for a moment. Are these friends of yours?” He asked, voice smooth as silk.

For a beautiful, glorious moment Mr Manson drew himself up higher and Danny almost hoped they wouldn’t recognise Jason.

He’d been “dead” a long time after all, and this was his first night back in public. And, y’know, he was about three feet taller than his last gala. And that new puff of white hair, that should have been a clue.

And then the other guy had stepped up on Tucker’s other side, his grin just as friendly.

“Hi, Tim Drake-Wayne, I see you’ve met my brother Jason and his plus one?” He said cheerfully, holding out his own hand to shake.

Something subtle yet twitching pinched in Mr Manson’s face. He shook Tim’s hand, then gingerly accepted Tucker’s still outstretched hand like it was some kind of unpleasant rodent.

Jason, still grinning broadly, shook his hand third, then turned towards Danny and Sam.

“And who is this ravishing young lady?” He asked, and both Mansons immediately perked up.

“This is our daughter, Samantha,” Mrs Manson said eagerly, neatly swiping her hand down between Sam and Danny to move her daughter to the fore.

Danny considered resisting, he really did, but not laughing was taking up a good chunk of his brain. Jason took Sam’s hand, bent over it and kissed her knuckles, blue-green eyes watching her through his lashes.

“A pleasure to meet you, Samantha,” he said but now his voice was low, sultry, and oh dear even Danny was getting a bit squirmy. Jason wasn’t even looking at him!

Sam twitched and her mother’s grip tightened to white knuckled on her elbows, clearly suspecting the temptation led towards violence. Danny and Tucker knew her a little better, knew the smile she put on was being held back from giggles, not forced.

“Same. So, how was being dead?” Sam asked casually, keeping up her usual semi-abrasive front. Mrs Manson gasped, but Jason just smiled wider as he rose.

“Restful. But we don’t all get to rise again, so I intend to take the chance with both hands,” he all but purred, still not releasing her hand.

Sam gently but firmly tugged it free, reaching back to grab Danny’s and pull him forward.

“Great. This is my date for the evening, Danny,” she added, giving her mother a very convincing sharp look.

Danny didn’t really notice anything else. Just that his hand was in Jason’s now, and Jason’s hand was big and hot, and Jason looked big and hot, and he was giving Danny that same smouldery look he’d given Sam. He had to lock his knees against shaking.

They’d had a plan. There was a plan. What the hell was the plan?

“A pleasure to meet you too, Danny,” Jason said softly as they shook hands, his voice still low and just maybe also holding onto laughter. Then he seemed to snap out of it, turning back to the others. “And of course, you’ve met Tim?”

Sam rolled her eyes and shook Tim’s hand too, and flicked Tucker in the forehead when he held his out with a shit eating grin.

“We went to high school, asshole, we do not need a fancy introduction,” she told him sharply.

“Oh, you already know Tucker?” Jason affected great surprise, moving very subtly until it looked like he was gently edging Danny out of the conversation.

It gave Danny a chance to check out his shoulders and maybe sneak a peek at his ass in those pants, so it was a win in his book.

Mrs Manson’s too, obviously, as she was visibly brightening by the second, even bestowing a warm smile on Tucker himself.

“Oh yes, he’s been one of Samantha’s best friends since she was just a teenager! Very close to the family,” she oozed, and Danny bit the inside of his lip to hide a grin.

Even Tucker looked a little shell shocked, but he pulled the smile back up before it became obvious.

“How did you two meet, by the way?” Mr Manson asked, looking calculatingly between Tucker and Jason. “I wasn’t aware you’d visited Gotham before, Tucker.”

Tim swooped in to field that one, so he was definitely in on the act now. What fun.

“Oh, they met through my work. Mr Foley here does some very impressive technical engineering, and I came across him scouting for a very prestigious internship position at WE. Jason came early to meet me after work on the same day as Tucker’s interview.”

And Tucker was right back to wide eyed awe. Quickly scooping his jaw off the floor, he puffed himself up, overcompensating a little in the rush of glee.

“Yeah! I was super honoured to get that far, and then Jason and I got to chatting on my way out. Of course I had no idea who you were,” he added quickly, grinning at Jason.

Jason shrugged modestly, keeping most of his attention on Sam.

“My unfortunate circumstances left my social life the real casualty I’m afraid. I don’t really know many people my own age.”

“Oh, perhaps you and Samantha can spend some time together then,” Mrs Manson gushed, immediately jumping on the opportunity, hand in the small of Sam’s back fully shoving her forward.

Sam narrowed her eyes, giving her mother a reasonably convincing glare.

“Mom, I’m here with Danny,” she stressed, reaching back to grab Danny’s hand and pull him after her.

Danny, still enjoying Jason’s shoulders from behind, nearly bumped into her from the sudden tug.

Jason gave them both another shot of that dazzling smile, stepping to the side like he’d never been blocking Danny. Which was a shame, since it meant the Mansons could see him again.

Mrs Manson visibly soured, then brightened again as Jason spoke.

“I’d love to spend some more time with both of you. I was just giving Tucker a quick tour of the venue, since it’s his first Gotham gala. Would you like to join us?” He offered, eyes still fixed on Sam.

She gave a barely mollified huff and allowed him to take her other arm.

“Fine. I need to show Danny where the bathrooms are anyway,” she declared, letting Jason lead them away from her parents.

Tim gave some quick apologies and hurried after them, all five teens falling silent to hear the Mansons as they left.

Not that it was hard.

“Isn’t that the alley trash Bruce took in?” Mr Manson asked, his voice barely quieter than his regular conversation.

“He is a Wayne now and besides, he has better prospects than that Fenton,” Mrs Manson hissed back, at least pretending to be more discreet.

Danny stifled a snicker as Tim gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Lovely people, your folks. Jason’s filled me in about them not letting you bring your girlfriend,” he said to Sam, and she rolled her eyes.

“They’re the fucking worst. I take it you’re in?” She asked, and Tim nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, always. I get dragged to these things more often than any of my siblings, so anything to make it more tolerable,” he added with a modest shrug.

Jason snickered, keeping Sam’s hand in his mostly for appearances.

“Your own fault for buying in to the family business, Timbo,” he teased and Tim stuck his tongue out at him.

“Yeah, well, it’s your fault I’m here this time, so the least you can do is keep me entertained,” he shot back cheerfully.

“Jason’s fault? How so?” Tucker asked innocently, keeping pace with Tim and trying not to look like an actual puppy. Game number two, Fucking With Siblings, was apparently still on.

Jason rolled his eyes, very intentionally not looking at Danny.

“Yeah Tim, why is it my fault?” He asked, clearly not expecting Tim to fess up.

Tim, of course, grinned straight at Danny.

“He told us we could meet his new friend the danger twink if we came tonight,” he said, entirely shamelessly.

Sam cackled, her grip tightening on Danny’s hand as she shot him a spectacularly filthy grin. Tucker sputtered and nearly tripped.

Danny felt his cheeks heat, but grinned back.

“Danger twink? Really?” He asked, turning and looking up at Jason. Whoooo still wasn’t looking at him.

“They came up with it,” he said stolidly, just the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

Tim nodded cheerfully, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by the next call from the top of the stairs.

“Mr Vladimir Masters!”

Danny actually did trip, stumbling into Sam and pushing her into Jason.

“Holy fucking shit what?!” He gasped, head whipping around a little faster than should be normal.

Tucker stared at him for a long, slow moment as Jason’s hands came up, steadying the pair of them.

“You fucking forgot Vlad was coming,” he said with a slowly dawning awe.

Danny, really doing his best not to beat his head off Jason’s very muscular arm, buried his face in the other man’s suit instead.

“I fucking forgot Vlad was coming,” he mumbled into very expensive fabric.

Sam burst out laughing, letting her weight sag into Jason too so she didn’t have to hold herself up.

He, the unfairly muscular bastard, was having no trouble supporting both of them.

Tucker’s entirely graceless snort of laughter almost covered Danny’s loud groan, and he treated himself to one bonk off a flexed tricep.

Ow.

Solid bastard. His life was just awesome today.

—————-

Next Chapter:

#dp x dc #dpxdc #dc x dp #danny fenton dead and loving it #dead on main #jason todd x danny fenton #the gala begins!!!!#and also is gonna be at least one more chapter #maybe two #i totally never at any point forgot vlad was gonna be there hush #just danny

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detectivereads · 5 months ago

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Delicious in Dungeon vol 5 by Ryoko Kui

4/5

This post is for fan entertainment, I’m not being paid.

Yes! It took me awhile to get the next few volumes but now I have volume 5! I will say that I have watched the anime, that covers the whole of the manga. Keeping Dungeon Meshi Thursday alive!!!!!

Ok starting off on this volume, I did get creeped out with how Falin was going to the Mad Mage under that trance like state and the Mad Mage they are absolute terrifying.

Now I will say this, because I guess there are people who think with what Marcille did to bring Falin back with ancient magic was evil. I honestly don’t believe that Marcille did anything wrong. Marcille knew what she was doing, she did everything correctly to bring Falin back with no issues, however I do think she should have planned ahead a bit.

Being in a magic dungeon with the rumor mad mage running around (granted no one has confirmed that the mad mage was alive) and using the meat of the servant to the mad mage was probably not the smartest idea. (but hey how can you plan for that scenario?)

I don’t think that Marcille deserves the backlash she got from former party members. Marcille learns the forgotten ancient magic so it won’t be forgotten, it’s a part of history that should be remember or at least learn enough about it to see why it was label by the non-magic users as forbidden. (Ok rant over)

Also, I wanted to bring up some of the realistic emotions that Chilchuck showed in this volume. I do remember when Laios, Marcille and Chilchuck agreed to come back down into the dungeon in the beginning that he knew that the group would need his help to scout for traps and the like. But Chilichuck is not a fighter. I was so emotional when he was planning on leaving the group after the run in with the Mad Mage. I am also glad he didn’t.

Senshi is still Senshi and he is awesome and perfect.

In the later chapters we meet back up with Karbu’s group, I thought Laios was a bit odd, but I think Karbu is under that category as well. But I do find the way Karbu interacts with his team a bit more refreshing than Laois and his group.

Also, in this volume we learn some lore about Namari, which I did feel bad that she was left holding the bag for her dad, while he skipped town.

I guess I could understand why she is more brash after learning more about her. I also understand that she needs to make money and can’t be tied down to a situation she can’t benefit from.

I felt bad for Laios’s team when they met the dryads, pollen is horrible.

Throughout the manga we also me back up with the Samuri of Laios’s old group and he is running with a new group as well.

Ok I will say that these new characters are amazing to look at, and they are power houses in their own right.

On a somewhat unrelated note, I think the pumpkin heads are so neat and when I was at the At Home store, I found this and I was tempted to buy it, but I did some thinking, I could find something a little more similar to the picture in the manga. Also, I think this pumpkin thing in the picture is a vase or candy dish, not a bowl.

FYI Code Orange is happing.

Dungeon Meshi Thursday!!!!!!!

#books recommendations #book review #fantasy #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laois touden #marcille donato #chilchuck #senshi of izganda #code orange #dungeon meshi thursday

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spideronthesun · 1 month ago

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OC Deep Dive

Thank you for tagging me lovely @mrbexwrites ! (here)

Rules: answer the following questions for your OCs

Passing the torch over to @satohqbanana @addomfarm-ogf-updates @alintalzin @cain-e-brookman @illarian-rambling

I did a lot of editing today, so I am going to put myself in Adamas' shoes. I worked the most on the chapters featuring him. Putting my answers under read more.

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Drowning. It is not as if he is scared of water, but he doesn't go near it unless he is with someone else. He had an accident when he was younger, and he was never able to face it properly. He still doesn't know how to swim to this day.

Do they have any pet peeves?

No, in fact he's incredibly patient. He doesn't care if someone chews very loudly in front of him, or talks to him when he's studying. He will even give people a second chance when they mess up. And he won't hold it against them. Meanwhile, his brothers are full of pet peeves. Robertas dislikes it when someone plays music on a loud speaker instead of using headphones, Edvardas hates it when people talk shit about other people behind their backs, Nikolas doesn't like it when someone touches them, Danielius loathes being interrupted.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

You're definitely going to find posters on his wall, journals and notebooks on his nightstand, as well as a bottle of cold water every night.

What do they notice first in a person?

Their shoes. He sometimes struggles making eye contact when he's nervous. Please don't hold it against him.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

4 to 5? It really depends. Burning his tongue with hot water or scalding his hand won't probably bother him that much. He will hardly notice that it even happened. But being punched does phase him.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Much to his surprise, he gets into fight mode. But he does hate confrontation and would rather not fight anyone. He hates it when someone in front of him starts fighting. Makes him nervous. But he will also defend those he cares about.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Both. He comes from a big family, as he has got four brothers, and he is the second youngest in the family. But he's also a family person. He's used to people coming and going in his life, but he will always welcome at the doorstep even if they decide to show up like five years later after not speaking.

What animal represents them best?

Bear. He also gives great hugs!

What is a smell that they dislike?

Alcohol. He's just not a big fan of anyone drinking in front of him. It makes him anxious. And he will probably end up spilling the drink behind your back.

Have they broken any bones?

Nope!

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Shy, silent, a little bit awkward, usually keeps to himself.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Night owl. He doesn't even notice that he has stayed up until the sun starts coming out and he hears footsteps of someone getting ready to work behind the closed door.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Love - chocolate, because who doesn't love chocolate?

Hate - tomatoes.

Do they have any hobbies?

He likes to read and write in his own time. In fact, he's a journalist, so he has a very inquisitive nature about him, and he likes to work on his articles. He likes learning about the people no matter how weird they might appear to the outer world. He feels like he always learns something new from the people he interviews.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Happily! While he doesn't like surprises very much, Adamas is still very receptive to them, and he's more than happy to celebrate his birthday with his loved ones. He knows that a lot of thought went into preparations.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Only bracelets. And a necklace his best friend gave him.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Adamas has a neat handwriting. The messiest handwriting in the family belongs to Edvardas after all. No one can ever decipher what he wrote. Not even him.

What are the two emotions they feel the most?

Peace and curiosity.

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Uh... knits? He likes sweater season.

What kind of accent do they have?

He has aukštaitiškas accent, as he grew up in the north-east side of Lithuania.

#wip: tales of the oak and lightning

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incorrect-junji-ito · 2 months ago

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Uzumaki episode 3 review

Spoiler warning for this episode

Okay, so this episode wasn't as bad as episode 2, at least. The animation is a little better, and the impactful moments get a little more weight than in episode 2. But I'm not here to compare this episode to the last. I'm going to talk about it as it is.

This episode covers the hospital arc, as expected. I also expected the anime to combine it with the end of Mrs. Saito. But even though it takes up a big part of the runtime, it still feels like it went by too fast. This is another argument for how this anime should have been given more episodes.

The firing effect section was disappointing for me. It's one of my favorite chapters in the manga because it contains one of the best quotes in the story: "We try our best with human hands, but sometimes nature can create things beyond our imagination. After all, most shapes are really patterns, but we can only see a piece of them at a time." This quote from Mr Goshima is important because Uzumaki is a piece of cosmic horror, and one of the biggest themes of cosmic horror as a genre is forces beyond what humans can comprehend. And it foreshadows that it's already too late to escape town because the spiral is already everywhere, we're only witnessing pieces of it at a time.

It also skipped over some great character moments that are in the firing effect. Kirie forcibly dragging Shuichi to her house is replaced by Mitsuo pulling him along, we don't get to see Shuichi running away and throwing up after eating from the spiral plate, or Kirie yelling at her dad for serving Shuichi food from that plate. And the fact that the clay comes from dragonfly pond doesn't come up in dialogue either. Shuichi calling Kirie because he felt lonely isn't there either. It just felt like they adapted the chapter with none of the depth that it had in the manga.

The typhoon chapter also changes things by having Shuichi being the one coming to Kirie's house in the storm instead of the reverse. It's a change that I don't like, since Kirie going out in the storm to make sure Shuichi has food is part of why I like their relationship so much. We didn't get Shuichi predicting the storm was coming either, or their nice quiet moment at the beach together.

Now for a part that I did like. The way they adapted chapter 13, "the house" was neat, even though a lot of details were skipped. Namely, because in the anime, Shuichi starts living with them in the row house. Though he doesn't speak a lot in this section, it's nice to see that he's included and is staying with Kirie. It makes sense that he would want to stay with the family to look after her, and I'm guessing his house was destroyed by the typhoon in this one. We don't get the Goshimas being temporarily infected with the spiral, but Wakabayashi's transformation is scary and effective.

Then there's Jack in the box. Yeah, he's here too, I guess. He just comes in at the end, does a few bounces and then falls apart. If they weren't going to do his part properly, then he shouldn't have been included, because the ending of the episode would have been fine without him.

Things that I liked:

Junji Ito himself voicing the typhoon was neat. Shuichi having more interactions with Kirie's family was also neat. Though I said the hospital arc went by fast, I actually think it was okay. The pregnant women were creepy, and Shuichi being with Kirie when the "mushroom" twist was revealed was pretty cool.

Overall, it's an okay episode. It's a big improvement from episode 2 at least. And I'm feeling slightly more optimistic about the end of the anime.

#junji ito #uzumaki #junji ito uzumaki #uzumaki anime #uzumaki review

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chuckeroo777 · 26 days ago

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Frieren Liveblog- Chapters 29-32

Last time, we found a new companion. Not sure how long he'll be sticking around, but he should be fun.

I see. So it's been exactly two years since chapter 4. I think you should be a little leniant with him. After all, it was only back in chapter 26 that Stark learned birthday gifts were even a thing.

Sein has only been with the group for a few days, and even he can see the romantic tension between those two.

Good to see Sein and I are basically on the same page here. I don't get what Fern's problem with the pouch was though.

Stop overthinking things. Just talk to people. It's easy.*

*It very much is not easy. But it is usually the correct course of action.

I see they went to the Loid Forger school of helicopter parenting.

Yes! She finally gets her revenge for all of Heiter's unsolicited head pats!

Definitely bigger on the inside.

TLDR: Flying is hard.

Once again, I suspect we are conflating warrior traits with dwarf traits.

Oh. Oh no. I've suspected it for a while, but...

Himmel really did love Frieren, didn't he?

What an oddly specific and oddly useful spell. Does it only work on things that belonged to you, or can it be used as a general loot-finding spell?

I really hope Frieren does get a chance to talk to him by the end of all this. Even if they can't be together, I really want to see them reconcile and bring closure to their relationship.

I think this is the only lingering spoiler. I saw a clip a long time ago of a scene where Frieren explains her deeper motivations when it comes to mimics. It's the same scene that gave me the impression that this manga was more dungeon based.

I think I also remember a clip of Frieren having a wizard duel in a dungeon, but that's such a vague scenario it barely counts.

Was it, Frieren? Was it?

Huh, neat. I was wondering why Frieren wasn't able to cure poison and stuff despite studying so much magic.

A standard round in DnD is six seconds. It'll be fine.

Talking is a free action. Seriously. I've read enough Manga at this point to know definitively that talking is a free action.

Also, Frieren's go-to slaying spell is a varient of Soul Track, so it would probably bypass refection.

That's how it goes with this sort of party. Frieren is terrifyingly OP, so the rest of the squad is tasked with covering her blind spots.

Is this that Yaoi thing I keep hearing about?

Lol, Fern and Frieren barely hesitate to consider selling Stark's body for money.

Ah, I see. Guess Stark gets to keep his innocence for today.

Frieren knows what she's about.

Also, I've long learned to ignore money values in this sort of setting. It tends to come up so infrequently, that there isn't really any consistency.

Could be worse. And judging from this chapter's cover, I think things will work out fine.

Talk about imposter syndrome. Not only is he being forced into a noble position, but the young prince is basically in the same position Stark used to be in.

On the one hand, Frieren may be doing this due to understanding the romantic tension between Fern and Stark. On the other hand, it's just as likely because she's lazy.

Yep, that's pretty much how I've felt at every wedding I've ever attended.

Weird. Outside the cover illustration, we basically don't get to see them dance. I imagine the anime won't skimp out.

And that's a wrap! Not too much of note happened this session, but Sein is quickly establishing himself as a nice member of the team, and Fern and Stark are clearly forming a connection, even if they won't admit it.

#sousou no frieren #frieren #frieren liveblog #manga #manga spoilers #chapter 29 #chapter 30 #chapter 31 #chapter 32

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eccentric-nucleus · 11 months ago

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actually if i'm gonna make a games rec post.

here are some games i have enjoyed recent-ish.

kenshi. an open-world squad-based rpg with base-building elements. get stronger by getting beaten up. lose a fight and get knocked out, have your weapons and food taken by the bandits that mugged you and left you bleeding to death. get rescued by some slavers that capture you and sell you into slavery. free yourself from slavery and limp away until you roll in hours later with a whole squad of overpowered fighters. then head a little bit too far south and get murdered by skin bandits. they take your skin. this is a completely self-directed game; there's no "main plot", although arguably "figure out the history of the world" is kind of the main 'story' mystery. there's also a bunch of unique recruitable characters with custom-written interactions. i usually recruit exclusively from freeing slaves but you can do w/e.

wildmender. a survival gardening game. this one came out recently and the devs are still releasing bugfixes; it's unclear if they'll make large content patches in the future. apparently multiplayer can still be pretty glitchy, and there's a water flow bug that i've been finding very frustrating. the way biomes work is kind of unsatisfying. kind of slim content-wise, but still, i really enjoyed what's there. out of all of the climate change terraforming anxiety games i've seen, this has been the one i've most enjoyed.

hellpoint. a scifi soulslike made by a team of like 12 people. previously i had thought things like "it would be neat if dark souls was less linear". hellpoint is a great example of why that might be a nightmare. the areas are connected in such a complex way, with one-way routes and branching unlock keys and secret paths and hidden doors behind hidden doors that it gets profoundly disorienting. a hint: almost every single hidden door in the game (there are a lot) is the middle panel of the same exact three-paneled-wall geometry. once you notice what it is you will see it everywhere. also, the enemy designs are hot.

crystal project. remember playing fan translations of final fantasy v? remember wandering around in old mmos? crystal project is kind of a... turn-based rpg mmo-influenced platformer. with a job system. you can sequence break the game from the tutorial level and also at basically every other point in the game too, although until you know what to look for it might seem like there's a linear critical path. but there's a lot out there. hint: play on easy mode. the combat gets tough later on and the game absolutely expects you to be finding and exploiting some class combinations.

astlibra: revision. a sidescrolling rpg. it must have been released episodically originally or some of the chapter pacing makes no sense. also it was originally released with a mess of art sourced from all sorts of places; 'revision' is a re-release with a more unified art style. it gets extremely anime all the time. there's a whole obligatory section where you have to ask all the women in a town about what kind of panties they're wearing. it's rough. i enjoyed how chaotic the systems are and how much Stuff there is to pick up and upgrade and unlock. the plot goes some unexpected places though it doesn't quite stick the landing, i still enjoyed what it did. also karon should be the love interest instead.

silicon zeroes. a cpu-building puzzle game. this straddles the line between the tech/code games that are literally just "learn a new language and code in it" and ones that are more structure-themed like, idk, spacechem. connect modules to assemble solutions to problems. it takes too long to get to chapter 3, which is where they start asking you to make entire cpus.

ashen. another souls-like. i just really like the environments in this one. the initial area looks gorgeous and the way it changes through the game is really neat to see happen. the seat of the matriarch is wonderfully awful to traverse and i wish there had been two or three more dungeons like it in the game. you can't level up; you gain stats mostly by progressing sidequests and the name quest. i eventually ran out of things to spend money on AND inventory space to store items. the late-game tuning is a little rough but until then it's great. a hint: there are three weapon types and within that type nearly all the weapons are identical. you get thrown so many weapons that don't matter; don't worry about collecting all of them. see above re: running out of space and things to use money for.

i guess it would be cheating to recommend minecraft regrowth or morrowind but i have also been playing those.

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tala-bez-i · 6 months ago

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At first sight Chapter Sixteen

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 4853

Today is my day off from work, so I decided to publish the next chapter. The next one is on Saturday as usual, so this week instead of two chapters there will be three.

This chapter may not be pleasant to read for some people.

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You couldn't remember the last time you sat in the passenger seat of a car, but you loved it. You were finally able to focus on something other than driving and your eyes wandered around the houses and parks you passed. The street lamps illuminated your path as you approached your destination. To Uchiyama's house.��

There was a smell of tobacco in the car, but it was not as intense as it might seem, knowing who it belonged to. The interior itself was very neat and clean - the blond strategist certainly contributed to this.

“From the next street you can get to the back of the Uchiyama house.” You said in a calm tone and your companion nodded slightly.

“Tell me, L/n... Do you sometimes miss working directly with me and Kisaki?” Hanma asked in an equally calm tone.

You looked down for a moment, remembering the old days when you were still members of Valhalla. It was during one of the fights between the gang you belonged to and Toman that you saw Haruchiyo.

“No offense, but I'm not complaining about the change.” You replied, looking up again. “Basically, not much has changed.”

“Huh? Really?" Hanma laughed, looking at you secretly. “That's something new. And I thought you were more on vacation than at work.”

"Why?"

“Sanzu usually kept you away from riskier tasks.”

"Are you sure? Because acting as his bodyguard and getting rid of the bodies of traitors for him and Bonten is not an easy task." You winced slightly and looked at the tall man pointedly.

“Do I hear you complaining?”

"Absolutely not." You shook your head and Hanma parked the car near a tall fence at the back of the well-kept house. “I like my job and believe me; I have no intention of changing my closest company.”

“The closest company…” Hanma repeated thoughtfully, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips. “Really, Y/n?”

You looked at him colder than you intended, and his smile grew, a dangerous glint in his golden eyes.

"If you say so. Apparently you're more happy with being imprisoned by Sanzu than the freedom Kisaki gave you." He shrugged, and just as you were about to share some sarcastic remark with him, Shuji looked thoughtfully at the house you were planning to break into that night. “The light is on upstairs. Haven't our little ones gone anywhere today?"

You looked in the same direction as him and frowned. The house should be empty...

“Maybe the meeting time has changed?” You muttered, but after a while the light in the window went out and after a few more minutes you saw in the rearview mirror a car driving from the direction of the Uchiyama house. “It's their car.”

"Very good." Hanma said as he got out of the car, and you did the same. “Do they have any free-roaming animals in the garden? I would rather not come across a guarding dog.”

You pursed your lips and looked out of the corner of your eye at the tall man with you.

“I don't know…” You said truthfully and Shuji looked at you coldly before smiling and pointing to the fence you would have to get through.

“So, you go ahead.”

You cursed quietly and easily climbed the fence. You mentally cursed yourself for not wearing much more comfortable clothes than a suit, but it was far too late. Besides, you weren't alone, Hanma didn't prepare well either. You have obviously become unaccustomed to this type of action. After all, you always used the front door...

You looked around carefully and saw no trace of the dog, so you signaled to Hanma that the path was clear and jumped silently to the other side. After a short while, a slim man landed next to you, and you headed towards the glass door.

You looked carefully through the glass into the nicely decorated living room and were about to say that everything was fine when you saw a light turned on by someone in the open door to the room.

“Fuck, someone's home.” You said quietly and Hanma pulled you around the corner of the building.

He did it at literally the last moment, because after a short while you heard the glass door slide open and someone came outside. You and Hanma looked at each other, trying to stay as quiet as possible, and you heard someone light a lighter, and after a second, the smell of a cigarette wafted to your nostrils.

Hanma peeked surreptitiously around the corner, smiled broadly and, like a ghost, attacked the unsuspecting figure, covering their mouth and blocking their arms to prevent them from screaming and defending themself. You jumped around the corner right behind him and the last thing you saw was the tails of a woman's silk robe and they both disappeared inside the house. You quickly followed them inside, sliding the glass door shut and immediately closing the curtains.

Shuji was struggling in the living room with a woman you hoped you wouldn't have to see again.

*slap*

The tall man's head snapped to the side, his face showing surprise and something much darker than anger. His eyes flashed with sadism, and he responded to the petite woman in kind, but unlike Hanma, she fell to the floor with a loud moan.

You looked at all this with complete indifference. It's like you're watching a movie.

“Be good, honey, and no more harm will come to you. We understand each other?" Hanma asked in an artificially gentle tone, grabbing the woman's hair and pulling her up so he could look into her face.

“Fuck you, dickhead.” She shouted angrily, grabbing his hand with both of her small ones to free herself from his grip. “Both of you, fuck you!”

*slap*

The woman moaned once again and your body shuddered in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. You didn't like to use violence against women, but since some of them asked for it...

Hanma grabbed her face with his other hand and twisted her head towards you. Her beautiful brown eyes that you could once stare into for hours widened in horror. She inhaled loudly and froze.

“I guess that's not what you expected, huh?” Hanma asked, smiling cruelly at her, bringing his face close to hers to get a closer look at her. “You're beautiful, darling. Now I understand how someone could lose their head over you.”

“Give it up, Hanma.” Your voice was so dispassionately cold that it even surprised you. “It was so long ago it can't even be true.”

“Y/n…” The woman whispered and Hanma lifted her off the floor by her own hair. “Let go!”

“Oh, no, princess.” He led her out of the living room into the small dining room and sat her on a chair. “We'll talk politely, like adults... And then we'll see.” He looked at you with a wide smile on his face, sadism lurking in his eyes. “Hey, L/n! Search everything you can and I'll take care of Mrs. Uchiyama, what do you say?"

"No problem. Have fun, Hanma.” You said leaving them alone in the room and the woman called your name in a terrified tone, asking you to come back and not leave her alone, which you completely ignored.

You slowly walked away from the dining room, hearing Hanma teasing Emiko. The first room you went to was the living room where you were just a moment ago. You looked around the room carefully and put on the gloves you kept in your inside jacket pocket.

You walked up to the bookshelves and checked if there were any interesting documents on them, but you didn't find anything. You checked the coffee table for any hidden drawers, but all you found was an unfinished crossword with a woman's clear handwriting.

Emiko's wedding photo hung on one of the walls, but there was no groom at her side. She looked phenomenal in a wedding dress decorated with white flowers. Her black hair flowed in curls over her slender shoulder...

You shook your head and moved away from the photo you had walked towards without even knowing when. You looked away from it and tried to calm your racing heart. If Sanzu saw you now, he would probably kill you... You almost started imagining yourself next to the woman who abandoned you five years ago.

You weren't supposed to feel anything for her anymore...

Her scream reached your ears and you felt terrified. Halfway through your step, you stopped and with all your willpower, you forced your legs to take your next steps in a completely different direction than the dining room.

You started walking up the stairs to the first floor where you assumed the master of the house and Emiko's bedroom was. You opened the first door, behind which was the bathroom, and out of curiosity you opened the medicine cabinet. You saw several bottles of pills; the labels had the name Haruka Uchiyama on them. You took one bottle in your hand and found out that it was painkillers, but another... Antidepressants?

You snorted loudly, put the pills back in their place, closed the cabinet and left the room, heading towards the next door. From downstairs you heard the sound of several more blows and the woman's cries of pain.

Another shiver ran down your spine, which wasn't necessarily unpleasant, and you opened another room, which turned out to be... Empty. Strangely empty.

There were colorful wallpapers on the bare walls that had not been completely removed, and a colorful rug was carelessly rolled up against one of the walls. In one place there were traces of a bed on the panels. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you realized that they were traces of the small bed. The room you entered was the child's bedroom. A child that Emiko gave to an orphanage, giving up all parental rights.

You walked to a door in one of the walls and opened it. It was a built-in wardrobe that was empty. There were only specks of dust on the shelves, but when you looked down... In one corner of the closet, you saw a small, tattered teddy bear and children's scribbles on the wall. You crouched down and gently took the toy in your hand to look at it, and your heart sank for a moment.

You recognized it. It was the teddy bear you gave to Emiko when you were still in school and not yet engaged. You got up and left the room, unconsciously still clutching the teddy bear in your hand, which had certainly seen too much with its glassy eyes.

You opened another door and this time you found yourself in an adult's bedroom. It smelled of women's perfume, but the decor was more masculine. You walked over to the desk that was right next to the curtained window and started searching through it.

The first thing you found were documents that might interest Kisaki, so you took them. In one of the drawers, you found a notebook with a leather cover, which, when you opened it, turned out to be written by Emiko's hand. You put it in your jacket pocket and checked the drawer again, looking for the second bottom. You weren't disappointed and after a quiet click, you lifted the plate, underneath which was a key that looked like it fit into a padlock of some kind. You took it and looked around the bedroom.

There were a few photos and two small paintings on the walls that didn't look too expensive. You walked over to the low chest of drawers and started looking through its contents. A few drawers contained some women's clothing and the rest contained men's clothing. Nothing special and apart from a small sum of money, you found nothing else.

Your eyes landed on the large double bed, and you decided to look underneath. On the dusty floor there was a small cardboard box that looked like it had previously held shoes. You pulled it out and lifted the lid. You saw tiny baby shoes and some documents.

You frowned, wondering why Emiko left these things instead of throwing them away, and pulled out a piece of paper folded in half. It was the act of birth. The date was five years ago, and the child's name was Yuuta Miura. It was the maiden name of the woman interviewed below, so the boy did not belong to her first husband.

You continued reading and when you reached the section where the name and surname of the child's father should appear - you froze.

Your heart started beating faster and stronger, and you could hear the sound of your own blood in your ears. For a moment you felt uncomfortably light, as if you were floating in the air, but the pounding of your own heart brought you down violently. Your eyes wandered over the page, constantly returning to father's name and surname.

Y/n L/n.

Father's Name: Y/n L/n.

You felt sick and had to fight yourself not to vomit. You had no idea how long you had been kneeling on the bedroom floor of the Uchiyama’s house, staring at the birth certificate in your hands, when Hanma's slightly concerned voice snapped you out of your trance.

“Hey, L/n. Everything's all right?" He walked up to you and you could feel his searching gaze on you. “Fuck, I'd say you're pale as a sheet, but I don't think I've seen such shades of gray and green before…”

His voice died in his throat as he leaned over you, and you knew he had read the same thing as you.

“Tell me my eyes are playing tricks on me, Hanma.” You whispered without looking up at him. “Please tell me this is bullshit.”

Hanma cursed heavily under his breath and lifted you off the floor by your arm. “Ask that bitch yourself. The document does not appear to be a fake.”

Hearing the disgust in his voice, you looked at him and for probably the first time in your life, you weren't able to read any emotions on his face.

“Did you find anything else?” He asked and you handed him the papers from the desk and the key, which he looked at and nodded in approval. “We're going down. I tied her to a chair, but I want to take her to the hideout so Mikey can talk to her.”

You nodded, putting Yuuta's birth certificate and the teddy bear in the box you took with you.

“Are you taking it away?” Hanma was surprised as he followed you.

“I need to know more.”

“And what next?”

“I have a son, Hanma... I guess.” You started walking down the stairs and Hanma followed you with a heavy sigh.

"And what about this?"

"Seriously? What about this?" You shot him a cold glance over your shoulder. "It's my son."

"Probably. She could have just given your details, you know the paper will accept anything. Plus she never tried to contact you, even about alimony..." Shuji said, taking out a pack of cigarettes.

You grabbed his hand. “Don't smoke here. We don't want to leave any more traces.”

The man wrinkled his nose, but put his cigarettes away and licked his lips without saying anything.

You entered the dining room and seeing Emiko tied up and broken, you felt some kind of satisfaction. Her pretty face was starting to swell on one side, and the lips you kissed so often were cut and bleeding. There was pain in her eyes, and when they landed on the box you held in your hands, there was even more fear than before. A long moan escaped from her chest and turned into a silent cry.

“Please, Y/n... Please, no.” She whispered through her tears, turning her head away so as not to look at you.

Your blood boiled and you placed the box right in front of her on the table before grabbing her face and turning her around with such force that the woman groaned in pain.

“Whose baby was it?” You asked in a quiet, icy voice. “Look at the box, Emiko! Whose son is this?”

Spasms wracked the petite woman's body, and an anger similar to the one you felt when Mina tried to shoot Sanzu rose within you. It was bad...

“Listen, bitch…” You growled, but the woman interrupted you.

"Your! This is your baby, Y/n. Yuuta is your son… God, please…” She sobbed loudly and you felt your hand tighten into a fist and you began to raise it up to punch her right in the face that you loved so much years ago. At the last moment, Hanma grabbed your elbow and moved you away from the sobbing Emiko. All you had to do was pull out your gun...

“Calm down, L/n. Control yourself.” He said in a warning tone and you were about to tell him to go to hell when you saw a dangerous gleam in his eyes. You knew he understood your anger, but this wasn't the time or place to take it out on this woman.

You pulled away from his grip and, taking the box from the table, moved away against the wall of the dining room. Your eyes were fixed on the woman that Hanma was leaning over again. He whispered something in her ear, and she sobbed louder, shaking her head.

The tall man shoved a key in front of her and Emiko gasped. Still furious, you couldn't hear their words, and the muscles in your neck and back tightened and relaxed. You wanted to beat the woman out badly, more than when she left you.

“Give it to me, Y/n.” Hanma said, placing his hands on the box you were holding tightly to your chest. You looked at him with wide eyes, your fingers tightening on the box. You had no idea when he approached you. “Y/n, give me that box, man. I'll take care of it while you go down to the basement and find the door Mrs. Uchiyama kindly mentioned and open it with the key that was hidden in the desk. Do we understand each other?" The man's voice was hard, but there was a certain gentleness in his golden eyes.

You started shaking your head, trying to pry the box from his long, slender fingers, but you let go of it obediently as you looked into his eyes again. You took the key from him and tried to look at the woman tied to the chair, who was effectively hidden behind Shuji.

“The entrance to the basement is at the end of the hall, right next to the toilet door.” The tall strategist instructed you calmly and, placing one hand on your shoulder, directed you to leave the dining room.

Without a word, you followed his instructions and opened the door, beyond which were stairs and darkness. You searched for the light switch with your hand and when you turned it on, you began to carefully climb down.

The temperature was slightly different from the house itself, but a strange smell filled your nostrils, mixed with air fresheners and the chemical smell of cleaning products. You knew this smell perfectly well, and even a layman would know that it was not typical of basements. You knew that if the police looked into the house itself more specifically, they might find some traces of the missing and murdered prostitutes.

At the bottom of the stairs, you stopped and looked around the room. Against one brick wall you saw a small workshop and some tools scattered around, while against the other there was a washing machine and a dryer. The small shelf contained cleaning products, washing powders and an air freshener. You walked over to it and checked to see if it was possible to move it to the side, but the shelf wouldn't budge.

You looked around again and in the corner of the room, behind several crates, you saw a piece of material. You walked over to the spot and without picking up the fabric from the floor, you could tell it was a piece of underwear. Most likely female. Still crouched, you looked at the wall near the workshop. There were several shelves hanging on it with some jars with unknown, suspicious contents. In the very center there was a metal wardrobe, typical of workers' locker rooms or gyms. It wasn't locked with any kind of lock or padlock, so you walked up to it and opened the door.

The hinges worked perfectly, as if they had been regularly oiled, and you saw several hangers with some work overalls, and another two air fresheners. You moved them to the side and your eyes were met with the back wall of the closet, which looked completely ordinary. Too ordinary.

You put your hand on it and pushed it forward slightly. The wall gave way slightly under the pressure and you already knew that you had found a hidden entrance to the next room. You started looking more closely at the shores, looking for anything that would help you open the passage. You certainly didn't need a key at this point because, again, you couldn't see a lock or padlock.

As you began to feel frustrated, you placed both hands on opposite edges of the closet wall and pushed forward. Suddenly, the wall moved slightly to the side, and you realized that it was a type of sliding door, so you pushed it further to the side and an unpleasant smell filled your nose. You immediately felt a metallic taste on your tongue, and the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up so much that your skin hurt.

You've done a lot of bad things in your life, and you've probably seen even more with your own eyes, but something told you not to go into the dark room on the other side of the door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you swallowed hard. You went back to the workshop where you saw the flashlight and went back to the aisle with it. You turned it on and swept the hidden room with a beam of light.

You saw a table, several chairs next to it, and chains attached to the wall. You carefully entered the room and found a light switch on the wall next to the entrance, which you pressed. Lamps started to come on all over the room and you immediately wished you had stuck to shining the flashlight.

Your wide-open eyes wandered around the room, stopping at various pieces of equipment whose purpose you didn't even want to know. Everywhere you saw darker stains on the walls and floor, indicating recent suspicious activity. The entire room smelled of dirty bodies, chemicals, decay and death.

At the end of the room, you saw another door, but this time it was locked with a padlock. You walked over to them and checked to make sure the key fit. It slid into the hole without any problem, and when you turned it, the padlock opened with a soft click. You took it off and opened the door.

You weren't prepared for this sight and your eyes almost popped out of your sockets. Behind the door was something like a warehouse. The shelves were full of neatly arranged small packages. You didn't have to get closer to know what was in them. You've seen them many times when you accompanied Sanzu to pick up large shipments of drugs. There were several crates lined up against one wall and when you lifted the lid of one of them, you saw the guns and your heart started beating faster.

You felt all the blood drain from your face as you realized what you had just discovered and backed out of the room. “Fuck, fuck…” You cursed quietly, your voice shaking with emotion.

“L/n?!” You heard Hanma's voice in the distance and shouted back over your shoulder.

"I'm here! Go through the metal closet!”

After a moment, you heard a surprised whistle and turned around to see a shocked Shuji looking around the room with wide eyes.

“Fuck, Bonten could learn from that bastard Uchiyama.” He said in surprise, and you extended your hand towards the freshly opened door to the warehouse.

“Look there.”

Hanma looked at you confused but moved closer and peered inside through the doorway.

“Fuck me, I think I'm dreaming.” He muttered. “Is today a fucking holiday? Because I didn't look at the calendar, and this..."

“I guess Santa Claus came earlier this year.” You laughed uncertainly, feeling beads of sweat begin to form on your forehead.

"Fuck..." Hanma echoed, amused, taking his phone out of his jacket pocket and starting to record everything. “You broke the bank, Y/n. You broke the fucking bank.”

Just as you were about to answer him, a soft moan came from the corner of the torture chamber and you both almost jumped in place. Your heads snapped towards the sound,and you saw a crouching figure in the darkness.

You stood frozen, but as soon as you heard Hanma pull out his gun, you pointed the lit flashlight at the corner of the room and felt like you were in a horror movie.

A naked girl was cowering on the floor. Her entire body was covered in bruises, cuts and blood, and her hands were covering her face. You didn't have to get any closer to see that every single one of her fingers was broken. Her long hair was tangled and caked with so much blood and dirt that you couldn't tell what color it was.

“Fuck…” You whispered and Hanma slowly started to walk closer to her.

“Hey, little one…” The man began quietly, holding his gun at the ready. “You're safe now, darling. We'll get you out of here. Do not be afraid."

You observed the battered girl, but something about her didn't suit you very much.

“Hanma?” You whispered, but your companion raised his hand slightly, signaling you to be quiet.

He crouched down next to the quietly sobbing figure and lightly tightened his long fingers around one of the girl's wrists, wanting to expose her face. The poor girl didn't resist, but when Hanma managed to push her swollen hands away... He froze.

You stepped closer and shined your flashlight on her so he could take a closer look and you felt sick. This time, the contents of your stomach rushed up your throat and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep from vomiting.

You saw a lot, a lot, but you just realized why there was a sweet smell of rotting meat in the air.

“Dear God, what have they done to you, honey?” Hanma whispered, and for perhaps the first time in your life you heard terror in the man's voice.

The girl's face was in such a state that you couldn't recognize her facial features, and her eyes...

“Those motherfuckers gouged out her eyes.” Hanma growled softly, and the girl let out another moan of pain. “All her wounds are infected. She's rotting from the inside. How are you still alive?” He got up from his crouch and aimed the gun at the girl's head. “Sleep peacefully, honey. No one will ever hurt you again.” He said gently and pulled the trigger, ending the girl's unimaginable suffering.

You turned on your heel and quickly left the torture chamber. You ran up the stairs, fell into the toilet and vomited. Your body racked with tremors worse than during those rare moments when you overdose on alcohol. You felt terrible, you felt dirty.

You vomited again and fell onto the cold tiles with a groan. You lay there for a while, feeling your head spin and gasping for breath.

“L/n?” You heard Shuji Hanma's voice again as he anxiously poked his head between the door and the frame to look at you, and you gave him a thumbs up to let him know you were recovering. “I'll call the boys. The entire house and warehouse need to be secured.” He withdrew his head from the room, but then put it back inside. “Are you sure you can do it?”

“Yes, I'm fine. I'll just lie here for a while, okay?" You replied in a weak voice and after a few seconds Hanma told you that it was no problem.

“Don't worry, I won't tell Sanzu about this.” He said calmly and you heard the outgoing call.

You rolled over on your back, glad that the toilet room was larger than normal, and you stared at the ceiling, wondering in your mind whether Emiko Miura would be capable of all this. You closed your eyes and sighed heavily. No, not Emiko... But her name was Haruka Uchiyama now, and she was a woman who probably didn't really have much in common with the girl you once loved.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #male reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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detectivecarisi-1 · 2 years ago

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The Senator’s Daughter Chapter 2 (Bodyguard! Dave York x Female Reader

AN: Lol I am alive. Honestly, I am even surprised this took as long as it did, but I transferred from my old job teaching at a middle school (after a student threatened to stab me lol) and moved to a high school, so I had to completely restart my curriculum, which, if you’ve been following me, is why I’ve been having a bit of a mental breakdown as of lately. But being at the high school has been so much better for me, so I am finally back to writing! I appreciate you all for your patience, and if you’re reading this, thank you for coming back :) I am currently figuring out how to make a masterlist, so hopefully that gets up soon. I have alot of oneshots in mind for Din Djarin (my beloved) and Joel Miller… But we’ll see if I ever have the time to write those. I know there’s a ton of new people to the Pedro Pascal fandom so... that makes me a little nervous. But, stay tuned! Thank you again! - Megan

Rating: M for language, and discussions of drugs and alcohol. Future chapters will be explicit, so 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS DNI\

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: A lot of language (sorry, I have the mouth of a sailor, it’s hard to write without it), Eventual Smut (18+ FOR THE WHOLE SERIES), AFAB! Reader, HUGE divergence from canon, MeanDom!Dave York, Dom/Sub undertones, Brattysub!Reader, legal age gap relationship, Enemies to lovers, Mentions of drug/alcohol abuse, self-destructive behaviors, corrupt cops (probably only in this chapter), Politics lol, Minor violence (probably?), eventual mentions of parental abuse.

Tags: @fatimaisabelpascal

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, feel free to dm me!

________________________________________________________________

“Sir, yes, sir” she says before slipping into the connected bathroom to shower. Dave starts to turn away, to give her some form of privacy, but Senator Leland grabs him by the arm before they could leave. Dave watches, as the strict father act Leland was putting on earlier melts away, as he slumps against the wall near the bathroom door.

“I just… I wanna make sure she gets in okay.” Just like his daughter, Senator Leland looks completely different than how the news channels show him. Where she looks younger, and softer than the washed-up party girl TMZ shows, Till Leland looks more exhausted, and unsure of himself, compared to the confident, perfectly styled politician he saw on MSNBC. Dave, after years of service in the CIA, has a certain skill for reading people, and Dave doesn’t see Mr. Leland as a slimy, sure of himself politician, he just sees a tired father. His shirt is wrinkled, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks exhausted, like he has been up all night. Mr. Leland stands, close to his daughter private bathroom, waiting for the sound of the shower to turn on, with one of his hands pinching the bridge of his nose.

Dave takes his time to look around the girl’s room. Just like the girl herself, her room is nowhere near what Dave would’ve expected. Despite the shoes in her bed, and the mascara stains on a pristine white pillowcase, her room is perfectly kept. She has a makeup desk, with a few photos of her smiling next to a small white dog. On a shelf above her bed, she has a collection of stuffed animals, each one seems to be placed carefully, with the smaller ones in the front and center, while the larger ones are arranged in a neat row behind them. He spots a bookshelf in the corner, with a few cookbooks, The Great Gatsby, and War and Peace, Dave raises his eyebrows, genuinely impressed when he spots a tasseled bookmark, sticking out of the book, she’s almost finished with it. Dave had expected her room to be a complete mess, with dirtied clothes, bottles of pills and alcohol, and the trash overflowing, but this is the room of a normal girl. She continues to defy his expectations.

Finally, the shower starts, and Dave watches the senator’s entire body relax with relief. Senator Leland turns to Dave, “You have kids, Dave?” Dave nods, “two girls.” The senator nods… “so you… understand what I’m trying to do. I just want to make sure she’s okay… I don’t know what else to do.”

Dave doesn’t respond. Dave would stop at nothing to ensure their safety and their health. Dave has killed for much less, but for his daughters? He would make anyone, anyone who even looks his daughter’s direction with a sense of malice, suffer until they are begging for him to kill them.

He looks at the senator, he sees a distraught father, desperate to save his little girl from her own self-destruction. Dave thinks… If this was his child, he would burn down every nightclub in the state and nail her door shut. Perhaps Till Leland’s plan is just a little more level-headed. Dave has never been the best at controlling his temper, so a he understands the Senator, sure, however, he still questions how things could’ve gotten this bad with the girl.

Dave simply sets his jaw, and nods.

The senator runs a hand through his hair, sniffs and turns to Dave, shifting back into the smooth-talking senator Dave met earlier that morning. “Let me show you around the house. I can show you where you’ll be staying.”

They leave the girl’s room, and Senator Leland leads Dave to a room, only across the hall from the girl’s room. Leland opens the door, revealing a simple, but still beautiful bedroom. There it’s painted a soft gray, with dark wood floors, clearly original with the house, Dave can tell they’re aged, even though they had clearly recently been polished. There is an oak desk along the front wall, and a queen-sized bed with a white comforter on the opposite wall, with a simple nightstand beside it. Senator Leland breaks the silence “It’s not much, I know. Before my dad passed he stayed here full time.” Leland opens a door in the back corner, “You have your own restroom, shower, bath, anything you need. Dave don’t hesitate to ask for anything else. I know this job isn’t the same as a simple celebrity escort. I want to make sure you are well taken care of, so you can take the best care of my daughter.”

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

You step out of the shower, confused, and more hungover than you’ve been in your life. You look in the mirror, and oh great you look just as fucked up as you feel. Incredible. Thinking back to the mysterious “Mr.York” in your room, you feel the heat of embarrassment warming the back of your neck…

No big deal, just saw the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and what a great first impression, vomiting in a trashcan… things could be worse… hopefully.

You look in the mirror, trying to piece together the night before, attempting to shake the weight of shame, and embarrassment that’s currently making you want to melt into the cool tile of the bathroom floor. It only worsens when you remember the look on your father’s face, he hasn’t looked that disappointed since… well ever. Some shit went down last night and its driving you crazy that you can’t remember a thing.

“Whatever… can’t get worse than this.”

You throw on some clean pajamas and stumble downstairs.

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

As you enter the dining room, you spot Mr. York and your father, facing the stairwell, looking like something out of a sitcom’s “intervention” episode. If you weren’t so nervous, (and not insane) you would consider looking for a camera.

You get your first, clear-headed look at Mr. York, and, somehow, he's even more attractive when you’re (mostly) sober. You feel a little insecure, seeing him so perfectly put together and unaffected, and here you are, with your knees turning to jell-o.

Despite your distraction with Mr. York, you can still feel the tension in the air.

You walk up to your father and wrap him in a hug, that he doesn’t return, “Morning, old man. What’s the deal? Polling numbers down?” Your dad chuckles dryly “yeah, well, they’re about to be at least.”

His voice is raspy, he sounds exhausted. You hate that he feels like this, and, although you’re not exactly a genius, you know it’s somehow because of you.

You raise an eyebrow, and plop down on the seat across from your father… You pretend to think deeply for a moment, before gasping, “Oh, shit, they found out you did acid at a Nirvana concert in 91’?” you ask, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“It was the Smashing Pumpkins, sweetheart, you know this. But no, that secret is locked away.” He smiles, and for a moment, he seems like it's just a normal morning, and that everything, deep down, is okay. But his face falls again, and he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “Honey… I love you very much, you know?”

Oh shit. This is bad, this is really bad.

You feel the color drain from your face, and your blood turns cold. You don’t trust your own voice to come out without squeaking, so you just give your dad a nervous smile.

“You… you got arrested last night. You were found passed out in front of a nightclub, and when the cops came to help you up… you dropped a small bag of pills.” He refuses to meet your eyes, he’s chewing his lip, and takes a deep breath before he continues, “If it weren’t for the fact that Office Benson was on the scene, you would’ve been charged. Benson owes me a favor so, he confiscated the pills and let you off the hook, but honey… you had Percocet on you. Where did you even get them?”

Your head is swimming. This makes no sense, you would never, ever, get hooked on meds like that. Alcohol? You admit you tend to overindulge, but opioids? No. No way, never in a million years. You’re trying to make sense of this situation in your head, trying to figure out how to explain to your dad that you would never, you could never do that to yourself, or him. You’re shaking your head, and tears you refuse to let fall start to burn your eyes… All is made a little worse when you look up at Mr. York, who is staring at you with the coldest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man. He’s judging your every move, he looks disgusted by you. You make eye contact, hoping he’ll soften up, but no, he just stares you down until you nervously look away.

You turn to your father, hoping that he starts laughing and this is just some sick tactic to make you straighten up, but he instead looks at you with red eyes, and “Honey, I’m just so worried about you… I can’t lose you.”

Fuck… you need a drink.

Everything, from the very moment you woke up, has just been too much. You want to leave, go to some shitty bar downtown, take a couple shots, numb these feelings that are currently making that sour taste at the back of your throat return, and maybe then you can have a civil conversation.

But it's 9am and your dad would probably die of a broken heart in front of you.

Or worse, Mr. York looks like he could kill you himself.

Instead, you resort to trying to talk, your voice warbled the tears you apparently can no longer hold back, “but… I don’t do drugs, dad, you gotta believe me I… I don’t do drugs.” Maybe if you weren’t so overwhelmed, things may have been a little more eloquent, but all things considered, you’re pretty proud of yourself for getting through that in one piece. Considering how much you feel. You feel like a child, you’re embarrassed, and scared, and… you can’t even begin to figure out how to process this.

Your dad straightens up a little, and he clears his throat a little.

“I know, honey, I know. They did a drug test, last night at the station, you’re cleanBut someone gave these to you, and you took them. You’re losing yourself, honey, you may not see it now, but I have to watch you slowly destroy yourself, I can’t do it anymore.” He stops for a second and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, takes a deep breath, and like he’s presenting a new bill to the Senate floor he says, “honey, you have now made it clear to me that you cannot control yourself. This is no longer a simple rebellious phase.You may not see it, but I know are going to end up killing yourself and dragging me down with you if you keep going like this. You have shown me that I cannot trust you to stop, and that you will push things further and further with no regard for yourself or others. So, this is Dave York, he’s going to be your bodyguard until after the election.”

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

Okay, so maybe you could have handled your response better. But fuck this. Fuck Percocet, mega-fuck the person who gave them to you, and seriously fuck Mr. York.

After your dad broke the news that Mr. York was essentially going to be following you around, no privacy at all, to make sure you’re in, what your dad calls, “in a better place mentally and physically”, it’s all a blur of you screaming, “fuck that”, “absolutely not”, “I’m not a fucking child”, and “I’ll do what I fucking want”. Your dad, during your (admitted) tantrum, argued back trying to reason with you, but even more infuriating, Mr. York just sat, watching you with those cold, judging eyes. His lack of response only makes you angier, you want to affect him, you want to see him get up, and tell you to get over yourself, or explain why him being your bodyguard is great, hell, even if he just laughs and agrees with you, that would’ve been better than him sitting, completely still, while you have a complete breakdown in front of him.

After your dad yelled “I won’t let you kill yourself this way, you hear me?” you just… gave up. Stormed upstairs, where you are currently screaming into your pillow.

You fuck up one time, and all of the sudden you lose all your privacy?

Okay, sure, maybe this isn’t the “one time” you fucked up. But you’re 21 years old living in Virginia Beach, where there’s literally nothing else to do except go out and drink till you blackout, but, who even cares?

You’re losing your mind. You’re shaking, and crying, and, screaming in the pillow did nothing to help the very apparent emotional break you’re currently experiencing.

Nah, fuck this.

You walk over to your dresser and pull out the flask you take with you to clubs sometimes, you’re not even sure what this is filled with anymore, and honestly? You don’t even care. You need to calm your nerves, and you’d take a shot of fucking rubbing alcohol right now if it was offered to you.

You’re about to take a sip, about to let whatever this mystery liquor is burn down your throat, to soothe your nerves…

“I’m going to need you to put that down.”

That’s… definitely not your father’s voice. And of course, as if he appeared torment you further, you see Mr. York casually standing in the entrance of your room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

How did he even get in here so quietly?

“Fuck off, Mr. York.” You roll your eyes, “I’m in my own room, I’m not hurting anyone, get off my back.”

He doesn’t respond, just stands and watches you, like he knows that enough to make you break.

He’s right.

“Jesus Christ! I don’t need this! I don’t need a ‘bodyguard’! I don’t need you! What I need is to just… fucking calm down I can’t think straight, and I’d be a hell of a lot better if it weren’t for you standing here like a fucking serial killer. Get out!” You’re screaming at him, of course having your second temper tantrum of the morning.

And just like always, he just stands there, his arms crossed, not the slightest bit moved by your outburst.

“Are you all done?”

You laugh bitterly, “fuck you. Mr. York.” You look up at him, challenging him to say something back to you, to finally acknowledge your frustration.

He shrugs, “the little temper tantrum you put on downstairs not enough for you? Had to do it again? Are you so pissed off that you didn’t get your way? You think you can just scream your way out if it? Keep trying, maybe eventually it’ll work.” He’s leaning against your bedroom door, and he said that all like he was just reading the forecast for the week. He doesn’t even sound mad, just annoyed, as if the very fact he has to speak to you is an inconvenience to him.

Okay… so maybe him just standing there is better than him being affected by you, when he just stood there, it was a lot less embarrassing, hurt a little less. He’s staring at you, with his hand held out, waiting for you to pass over the flask, “you gonna hand that over to me or do I need to take it from you.”

You hand him the flask and get back in bed.

#Dave York #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fanfic #dave york smut #dave york x afab reader #bodyguard!AU #Pedro Pascal #enemies to lovers #dave york fluff #slow burn #The Equalizer 2 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #my work #My writing #smut #pedro pascal smut

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sweetestofchaos · 6 months ago

Text

BNAA | Stay Close - M.YG x K.SJ

🔪Pairing: Alpha Gang Boss!Yoongi x Omega Maid!Seokjin

🔪 Rating: 18+

🔪 Genre: gang au, dead dove, parent au, a/b/o, angst, fluff, smut, mxm, mpreg

🔪 Warnings: time skip, mentions of blood, torture (described), physical violence, semi-public sex, handjob, light bondage, sensory play (blindfolding), body worship, crying, breeding kink, unprotected sex, knotting, fingering, spiting, slick/cum eating, anal sex, oral, nipple play, dacryphilia, brief depictions of childbirth, seokjin has a lot of emotions, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, pet names/terms of endearment, strong language.

🔪 Word Count: 12k

Four years later and Yoongi is still in love with his mate, Seokjin. Their pup, Miyoung is thriving and now the family of three is ready to grow by one more.

a/n: this story is completely fiction. it was written for the daddy’s home fest hosted by @btsfests. if i missed any warnings, please let me know. if you would like to scream in my ask box, feel free it is open. for the sake of time, i did not have this fic betaed, if you see any major mistakes, please let me know. it has been a long time since i finished any kind of fic...so i am very proud of myself. i love this story and i truly hope you enjoyed it as well. thank you so much for reading and your support!

fest masterlist 🔪 ao3 🔪series masterlist

🔪chapter one 🔪chapter two

Four Years Later

“Find him!”

Everyone in the room looks at the man standing in front of them pacing back and forth. Min Yoongi, the boss of the underground, is pissed. His usually neat hair is disheveled, messy from running his hands through it repeatedly. His smokey thyme scent is burnt. Someone has stolen something very important from him and they will pay with their life. Four sets of eyes watch as Yoongi slowly starts to lose his composure little by little. His chest is heaving, his eyes are scarlet red, wide and wild like an animal. He is going to kill whoever stole from him with his own two hands.

Hoseok, an alpha and Yoongi’s second in command, sits in a large chair. Out of the crew, Hoseok has the least amount of injuries. He was hit in the back of the head with a vase from behind. So, there is a nice sized egg hidden by his dark hair. His heart shaped mouth is turned down into a small frown as he recalls the mess he ran into. He went down for a few moments from the attack, unaware of the aftermath that it would cause.

Namjoon, a beta as well as the hacker of the group and Taehyung, the other beta and sniper, sit on the love seat that is in the middle of the room. Taehyung is nursing his bruised jaw with an ice pack while Namjoon picks at the blood that has clotted on his knuckles. His hand hurts like a bitch and he is sure that his hand is broken from how discolored it has become.

“I want every fucking person on the streets, ears to the ground. You hear me? Find him!”

Yoongi’s eyes are merciless as he scans over the room of his subordinates, ghosting right over the five men closest to him. Useless, the whole lot of them! All these bodies and yet one of the people he swore to protect was taken in the blink of an eye.

“Yes, sir!” Come the shouts of the others in the room and Yoongi glares at everyone just standing around.

“Get the fuck out!” He snaps, his patience hanging on a very thin thread and the men in the room all scramble over themselves to clear the room.

As the door slams shut loudly, Yoongi is left alone with his five most trusted friends and the in-house doctor, Jackson, a beta. The youngest, Jungkook, an alpha, pushes himself off the wall. His face is boyish with large doe-like eyes but the hardened muscles on his body and the full sleeve of tattoos displayed for all to see on his left arm tells another story. There is a cut above his right eyebrow and his bottom lip is split as well. Like Namjoon, Jungkook’s knuckles are bloody and bruised.

“So, what are we doing boss?” Jungkook asks as he walks over and parks himself on the arm of the couch, right next to Jimin, the only other omega beside Seokjin, who is being looked over by doctor Jackson. Out of everyone, Jimin got hurt the worst since he was inside the nesting room where everything fell apart.

Jimin is passed out cold thanks to the drugs that are pumping through his blood stream. Jackson is currently stitching a rather large gash on Jimin’s chest which makes Taehyung frown. Jimin and him have been through thick and thin together. They are soulmates, blessed by Luna to always find each other. He was supposed to keep him safe and he failed. The younger’s golden skin has lost its glow, now pale and bruised. His face is untouched much to Taehyung’s disbelief but the gash across his chest is cause for concern.

Yoongi clicks his tongue as he looks around at his friends; his pack. Namjoon’s indigo hair looks darker thanks to the dried blood from someone else. Taehyung’s bangs hang in his eyes as he sits up with a wince. Namjoon raises an eyebrow and Taehyung waves him off, his freshly dyed blond locks curling from the blood that ran from his temple. The room is filled with bitter, sour scents. No one is happy with the night’s outcome.

Yoongi’s alpha is at the surface ready to draw blood. His pup’s screams still ring in his ears and he grinds his teeth as he jaw clenches. He wants to go to her right now, his inner wolf is howling to comfort Miyoung but Yoongi needs to handle business first.

“I didn’t get a good look at the fuckers, but we got one of ‘em.” Taehyung states and hisses as he starts to grin. His lower lip is split, his temple has two stitches and four of his ribs are bruised, nothing he can’t handle.

Yoongi’s ears perk up at the mention of a survivor and something wicked comes to life in everyone’s eyes as Yoongi’s lips twitch. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at Jackson, who is still working on Jimin.

“Wang?” Yoongi rolls his tongue in his mouth as Jackson looks over his shoulder. “We good here?”

“Joon needs to stay-”

“Bullshit! Doc, I’m-”

“Not doing shit with a broken hand!” Jackson glares, his eyes flashing a striking gold and Namjoon grumbles knowing that Yoongi will not go against the doctor’s words.

Nodding his head, Yoongi jerks his head towards the door and one by one the others all stand. Taehyung and Jungkook pat Namjoon on his shoulders, scenting him quietly with their wrists as they walk by and Yoongi rolls his shoulders.

“Joon, hop on the trail. I want these fucking bastards found in the next three hours.”

“Already on it, Min.” Namjoon waves his phone in his unbroken hand and Yoongi nods before he steps out of the room.

Out in the hallway, Yoongi cracks his knuckles and shoves his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. He looks at his pack, they all look fucked but at least they are alive.

“Kook, you good to deal with ‘em?”

“I won’t kill him…much.”

Jungkook’s eyes glow red and Yoongi nods his head before he looks at Hoseok, “Keep tabs on the men. Let me know if they find anything.”

“Should I let BamBam know what’s up?”

Yoongi sucks his teeth. He really doesn’t want to involve the Got7 pack. Jackson’s mate, Jinyoung is the pack alpha and they are useful. Bambam is an omega with his hands in a little of everything; he is a good ally to have. Yoongi gives a stiff nod of his head and Hoseok is walking off down the hall to the main office. Now it’s just Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi. Yoongi and Jungkook follow Taehyung to where the only living survivor of the attack is being kept, the library. Yoongi makes a mental note to scold Taehyung for not bringing the guy into the basement.

Taehyung opens the door to the library and Yoongi sees a younger man tied to a chair, he is passed out and bleeding from his broken nose. Yoongi closes the door and takes a seat in the large leather reading chair that is a few feet away from the unconscious man. He notices the blood that drips from the man’s fingertips and splashes onto the fancy rug. Damn. Yoongi thinks to himself. Seokjin is going to chew his ass out if he finds out they got blood on the rug. He wonders if Seokjin would notice a replacement or not.

Jungkook and Taehyung share a look before Jungkook walks over to the man with all the bone chilling confidence of an apex predator. He is a shark, waiting for his chance to strike in bloody water. Taehyung pulls a hair tie from around his wrist, the very one that he keeps in case Jimin wants to tie his hair up and hands it to Jungkook. Quickly, Jungkook takes the hair tie, holds it in his mouth and gathers his hair into one hand. Grabbing the hair tie from between his teeth, Jungkook easily pulls his hair into a messy bun and cracks his neck. Taehyung walks over to Yoongi’s chair and stands behind it, leaning against it with his arms crossed in front of him over the back.

“Get on with it.” Yoongi orders, his voice a low rumble that fuels the sick and twisted pleasure in Jungkook’s heart.

Reaching into his pocket, Jungkook’s fingers wrap around the cool metal of his favorite switchblade. He pulls it out of his pocket and flicks it open, twirling it around on his fingertips for a few seconds as he looks the man over in thought. What is the best way to wake the man? He could stab the man in the chest, he knows enough body anatomy to not kill the poor guy right away. Or maybe he should cut off a finger? No. No, he needs his tools from the basement for that. Pouting, Jungkook stares at the man’s thighs and nods to himself.

Clasping the knife in a fist, Jungkook squats in front of the man’s spread legs and plunges the sharp blade into the man’s upper thigh. The man jolts awake with an ear splitting howl. Jungkook giggles, his red eyes gleaming in joy as the man stares wide eyed at the knife sticking out of his thigh.

“Wakey, wakey asshole! Boss has some questions for ya!” Jungkook sing songs and Taehyung fights off a smile at the display of collected insanity. He always knew that Jungkook was unhinged and that is why he makes the best bodyguard for Yoongi out of all of them. The man is a blubbering mess as the pain burns deep in his veins and Jungkook cackles. The high grade silver will do that to a wolf. He rises to his full height and flicks the hilt of his knife making the man cry out.

Yoongi clears his throat and Jungkook takes two large steps to the side, giving him a clear view of the man that should know where his mate is.

“If you don’t want to die, I highly suggest you answer my questions, ‘kay? JK over there falls into blood lust easily.” Yoongi warns with a blank face as the man before him trembles. Yoongi leans forward slightly in his seat, elbows pressed into the top of his knees as he steeples his hands, resting his chin on top. “I asked a question, kid.”

The young wolf nods his head quickly and Yoongi can see the way his body sags. The guy won’t last long. He must be new. Yoongi thinks to himself as he smirks. Easy, prey. Licking his lips, Yoongi sighs and leans back against his chair, snapping his fingers. Taehyung steps from behind the large chair and goes over to the mini bar that is tucked in the corner. He fixes Yoongi a whiskey neat silently, the sound of glass clinking every once in a while. Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off the man who is silently crying and he is honestly a little disappointed. He knows that Jungkook won’t have that much fun with the guy.

Taehyung returns to Yoongi’s side with the glass of amber liquid and Yoongi takes it without a word. Thanking Taehyung with a small nod before he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip. The smooth bittersweet liquid warms his throat on the way down.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The man glances at Jungkook who is standing stark still, his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles flexed and bulging. His eyes flicker back to Yoongi and he stumbles over his own name. Yoongi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“You know, you’re the only one alive right? All your little friends refused to talk…JK had a lot of fun with them.” Yoongi is lying through his teeth of course. The other attackers were slaughtered on the spot. “Now, if you want to make it out of here alive-” Yoongi takes another sip of his drink and narrows his eyes slightly, “tell me who you work for and where they took my mate, Kim Seokjin.”

Stars in the sky kiss the horizon, sparkling in the night, tiny shiny jewels pinned high. Seokjin stares out the tiny window of the room he is being kept in. The grime on the window distorts the view, turning the outside world into something from a twisted fairytale. A regretful smile pulls Seokjin’s lips into a frown and his eyes start to burn as he thinks about Miyoung’s favorite story.

A sob crawls up Seokjin’s throat and he covers his mouth with a hand to muffle the sound. He wonders if Yoongi is out looking for him or if his alpha is holding their pup close, whispering comforting words into her ears as he plays with her hair. Seokjin prays that Miyoung is okay, he wishes on all the stars above that she hasn’t realized that her daddy is missing.

A gust of air blows past, making Seokjin’s body shiver as he pulls his limbs in as close as possible. A feat truly impossible with his six month swollen belly in the way. He buries his face in his hands and cries as silently as he can. He misses his pup. He misses his alpha. He misses his warm bed and clean clothes. Seokjin hates this. He hates that everyone tries to hurt Yoongi in some way or form. Seokjin was foolish to think that no one would take advantage of Yoongi’s love for him. He doesn’t even want to think about the shirt storm that’s about to hit once Yoongi finds him. It’s not even a matter of if but when. Seokjin trusts his alpha and his pack. They will come for him and Yoongi will rip out the throats of every person who dared to lay a hand on his pregnant mate.

Seokjin isn’t sure when he fell asleep but he is woken up by the sound of shouting and guns. Someone screams in the distance and there is a thud against the door of his locked room. Seokjin knows better than to shout for help. Not all break ins are rescues. He would be a fool to give his location away, in fear that he can end up in worse hands.

“Open the fucking door, now!”

Seokjin knows that voice and his inner wolf is howling.

“Y-Yoongi!” Seokjin cries, tears streaming down his snotty face as he forces himself to sit up.

The door to the door splits open, wooden splitters going everywhere in a cloud of fine dust. As everything settles, Yoongi stands in the doorway, his body a perfect silhouette outlined in the light from the hallway. His eyes are ruby red, his fangs hang over his lower lip and his hair is wild, falling into his face. Seokjin’s eyes burn blue, a beautiful contrast to the alpha he is reaching out for. In the blink of an eye, Yoongi is in front of Seokjin on his knees, cupping the omega’s face and latching on the swollen scent gland on the side of his neck.

Yoongi pulls the spiced peach scent into his lungs and drowns in it. Smoked thyme is heavy in the air and Seokjin whines as he fists the damp material of Yoongi’s black shirt. He can smell the blood that sours Yoongi’s scent but he doesn’t care.

“A-Alpha!” Seokjin whimpers, pressing into Yoongi’s chest, trying to hide himself and his pup away from the cruel world.

“Shhhh, no more tears nae sarang.” Yoongi whispers as he preppers kiss after kiss to Seokjin’s skin. “Alpha is here. Alpha will protect you.”

“Y-Yoongi?”

Yoongi’s blood freezes in his veins at the sound of the voice. His arm is stiff, pin straight with his fingers wrapped tightly around the butt of a 1911 pistol. His back faces the door along with the man that is tied in the chair before him. The room is a little too warm with the fireplace going, sweat collects at Yoongi’s temples and gets lost in his sideburns. Yoongi doesn’t take his eyes off the man that sits with a gage shoved in his mouth as blood dribbles from his broken nose and cut up face. He refuses to turn around and face the omega that stands in the doorway. Not in his current state, covered in someone else's blood and smelling like death. Ready to get even more blood on his hands as he takes the life of the man before him. He cannot face the omega that takes up the space in his heart.

“Go back to bed yeobo.”

Yoongi’s voice is clipped and icy as he turns his lover away. It makes his lover frown as he’s reminded of their past when they first meant. Yoongi hears the shuffling of slippers on the hardwood floor before the click of the door closing echoes in the room. The man in front of Yoongi whimpers and begs, fat tears roll down his face as he shakes his head back and forth.

“Miyoung is-”

Yoongi jumps at the sound of the voice, not expecting his lover to still be here. The scent of blood is so strong in his nose, that he can’t even smell his mate. His jaw clenches as he tries not to spin around and shout.

“Omega,” Yoongi warns one final time.

“Don’t omega me, Yoongi-ah!”

Yoongi’s shoulders pull upward towards his ears. Footsteps come closer and he is quick to bend his arm and tuck the pistol into the waistband of his pants. Yoongi spins on his heels, ready to shout but the look on the other man’s face makes him pause and his shoulders slump. Standing a few feet away, his husband, his mate, Seokjin cradles his round and swollen stomach, heavily pregnant with their second pup.

The light blue fabric of the sleep shirt he wears makes his tanned skin glow and Yoongi’s mouth water. The shirt stops at the back of Seokjin’s knees but with his stomach in the way, the shirt raises in the front, only covering his mid upper thighs. There is a large bow tied loosely at Seokjin’s throat, covering his mating mark and Yoongi wonders for a second if it comes undone will the shirt slip off Seokjin’s body? Yoongi vaguely recalls Seokjin shopping online for cute and sexy maternity sleepwear to help himself feel better about his body. Seokjin’s face is twisted up in displeasure, his full lips pulled down into a frown and the tip of his ears are flushed as he glares at Yoongi.

“You promised! You said no more killing inside the house!”

Yoongi swallows the moisture in his mouth and takes a step forward, “Nae sarang-”

Seokjin shakes his head, his dark chocolate hair flies about his face, it’s longer now, hanging past Seokjin’s ears and barely touching his jaw. It is the longest that Yoongi can remember ever seeing it. Seokjin doesn’t want to hear Yoongi’s excuses and he will not allow him to try and make any.

“Out!” Seokjin snaps and Yoongi’s body deflates a little. Seokjin rubs his tummy, his eyes starting to burn blue with unshed tears as the next words leave his mouth. “Both you and your fucking pack, get out!”

Saying what he has to say, Seokjin turns and rushes out of the room, not giving Yoongi a chance to fight him in fear he will change his mind with sweet words and sweeter touches. Yoongi stares at the door as it closes and as the click echoes in the room, his heart shatters and his wolf howls.

Yoongi sits alone in the kitchen of one of his safe houses. Seokjin kicked him out a little over a month ago and he is missing his family. He misses little hands squishing his face and tiny lips whispering in his ear to wake him up. He misses the feeling of quick kicks hitting against his side as he cuddles with Seokjin in one of many nests. He misses the warmth of little arms wrapping tightly around his neck and words of love showered down on him. Yoongi really, truly misses his family.

On the counter, his phone rings, the screen lighting up with Seokjin and Miyoung’s smiling faces. Yoongi’s heart beats quickly in his chest, is this the call he has been waiting for? Can he go home? Grabbing the phone, Yoongi takes a deep breath and answers.

“Yeobo,” Yoongi breathes out and he can hear laughter in the speaker.

“Hi, Yoongi.” Seokjin’s voice is music to Yoongi’s ears. A song that makes his whole body flout and drown in endless love.

“Appa!” The voice of his daughter, Miyoung, makes Yoongi smile.

“Would you like to join us for a picnic at the river?” Seokjin offers and Miyoung is in the background singing happily.

Yoongi chews on his bottom lip. Of course he wants to join his family but is it what Seokjin wants? Should Yoongi turn him down?

“I don’t want to make you upset, wangjanim.”

“Miyoung asked for you.”

Yoongi’s heart is at war with itself. He is thrilled that his daughter is asking for him but it hurts knowing that Seokjin wasn’t calling because he missed Yoongi.

Seokjin sighs and speaks into the phone softly, “Don’t make this about us, Yoongikkeo. Our pups miss you and that’s all that matters.”

The pups miss him? Yoongi smiles to himself, “What time?” he questions and Seokjin rattles off the time and location that they will meet. “See you shortly.” Yoongi hangs up and curses. It has been a month of living on his own. Sure, he has seen Miyoung since he left the house. Seokjin isn’t cruel enough to keep her away but it isn’t enough for Yoongi. He wants to go home. He misses the warmth of his mate’s nest and body.

Namjoon and Jungkook keep tabs on Seokjin and give Yoongi daily updates. They let him know that his family is safe at all times. Not being at home puts Yoongi on edge, so he makes sure that two of his men are keeping guard at all times. He isn’t going to put Seokjin’s life nor his daughter’s life at risk just because he fucked up. Scrolling on his phone, Yoongi shoots Jimin a quick text, asking him to stop by Seokjin’s favorite bakery to pick up an assortment of treats along with a strawberry boba tea for Miyoung.

Once off the phone, Yoongi hurries to his room and changes out of his loungewear into something more suited for the park. Yoongi pulls on a pair of light blue wide leg jeans, a white button up and throws a soft, pale yellow cardigan over top. Looking in the mirror he styles his hair to show off his forehead by parting it in the middle and letting his bangs frame his face. It’s a look that Seokjin loves and has told him so many times.

He replaces his contacts with glasses and brushes his teeth quickly for that extra kick of freshness. Spraying Acqua di Gio cologne on the inside of his elbow and running them down the length of his torso, Yoongi is ready to head to the park. He grabs a pair of light tan slip-on shoes on his way out the door and double checks he has his phone, wallet and gun.

On his way to the park, Yoongi meets with Jimin four blocks away and takes the baked goods from his friend. Jimin teases Yoongi for looking like such a dilf and Yoongi flips him off, his neck flushed in embarrassment. He knows he looks good and he hopes that Seokjin thinks so too. Finding a parking spot at the park isn’t too hard. Yoongi spots Seokjin’s car and parks beside him, smiling to himself when he sees Miyoung’s car seat in the back. Stepping out of the car, Yoongi grabs the box of treats and Miyoung’s drink before he scans the area for his pack. He spots Namjoon in the distance setting up a bunch of blankets and pillows while Seokjin sits in a foldable chair.

Jungkook is on the playground chasing Miyoung around while making what sounds like a dying cat (or maybe dinosaur?) noise. From this distance, Yoongi can’t help but grin. It seems that the three of them are dressed in matching colors. Seokjin has on a yellow and tan ombre sweater with light yellow pants and tan slide-ons. Miyoung is dressed in blue flared jeans with a cute chain belt and a pale yellow shirt with tan and white sneakers. Shaking his head, Yoongi walks into the park and the smile on his face turns gummy when Miyoung screams for him.

“APPA!!!”

She rushes at him as fast as her little legs can go and Yoongi braces himself for impact. Thankfully, Jungkook is there to grab the box of treats and drink so that Yoongi can squat down and catch his pup in his arms.

“Appa, I’ve missed you!” Miyoung whines and starts to giggle when Yoongi stands up and swings her around in the air.

“My little angel, Appa has missed you so much! Look how big you’ve gotten.” Yoongi sets his daughter on his hip and kisses her cheek a million times, rubbing their noses and cheek together to scent his pup. He can feel a pair of eyes on him and when he looks in Seokjin’s direction, sure enough his husband is staring at him with the softest of smiles on his face. Yoongi doesn’t miss the darkness in Seokjin’s eyes and licks his lips as his gut starts to roll. Now is not the time to think about taking his husband against the nearest tree, though the idea is hard to shake off.

“Have you had fun with Daddy?”

Miyoung nods her head and pouts, “Can you come home now? I miss playing with you and Daddy doesn’t make good voices when he reads.”

Yoongi chuckles and hugs Miyoung a little tighter in his arms as he heads over to the picnic blanket where Seokjin, Namjoon and Jungkook are now waiting. As he gets closer, Yoongi notices that Seokjin’s stomach has gotten bigger and he frowns. A month away felt like a long time but looking at Seokjin, Yoongi feels like he had not seen Seokjin in over a year.

“How are you feeling, yeobo?” Yoongi finds himself moving on auto pilot, leaning in close to touch Seokjin’s belly and press his lips to Seokjin’s. Seokjin turns his head and Yoongi’s lips graze the soft skin of his cheek. The scent of Yoongi’s cologne, bergamot, tangerine and patchouli tickles Seokjin’s nose. But it is the smoky thyme that makes Seokjin clear his throat as he grabs Yoongi’s wrist and slides it a little more to the right where the baby is kicking.

“We’re fine. The pup is fine and I have a little more energy this month. The next appointment we can find out the gender.”

“Can I come?” Yoongi’s voice is tentative, shaky in a way that Namjoon and Jungkook have only heard when Yoongi is speaking with Seokjin, vulnerable.

Seokjin nods his head with a sigh and motions for Yoongi to put Miyoung down. “You’re still her father, Yoongi. Stop acting like the world is ending.”

Yoongi carefully puts Miyoung on the ground and offers his hand to Seokjin to help him sit on the pillows stacked around on the ground from Namjoon’s half-assed nest.

“You are my world,” Yoongi admits and Seokjin rolls his eyes as he places his hand into Yoongi's palm.

“Could have fooled me.”

Yoongi ignores Seokjin’s harsh words and watches as Namjoon holds one of the pillows in place for Seokjin to sit on. Once Seokjin is seated, Yoongi sits down and Miyoung crawls into his lap with her bobo tea clutched in her hands. Yoongi kisses the top of his daughter’s head and wraps an arm around her little body.

“Are you hungry my angel?”

Yoongi enjoys the time spent with his family, not even minding that Jungkook and Namjoon are with them. The two men are just as much his family as Seokjin and his daughter. Seokjin rises to his feet, holding the underside of his stomach with a small grimace.

“What’s wrong, yeobo?” Yoongi jumps to his feet and Seokjin waves him off.

“I’m fine. The pup is sitting on my bladder weird.”

Yoongi turns to his packmates, “Keep an eye on Miyoung, we’ll be back.”

He wraps an arm around Seokjin’s waist and supports his stomach with his other hand; Seokjin doesn’t protest.

“Bag,” Seokjin manages to grunt out as the baby kicks him rather hard. Jungkook holds up the carrier that Seokjin totes around filled with necessities that Miyoung often needs like hand wipes, bottles of water, band-aids, pain medicine and snacks. Yoongi quickly takes the bag and hikes it onto his shoulder. Together, the two of them head to the public bathroom, the bag bouncing against Yoongi’s back a little as they walk.

“You didn’t have to come with me, Yoongi.”

“Stop pushing me away, please?” Yoongi pleads as they reach the bathrooms. “Let me take care of you.”

Seokjin sighs and Yoongi pulls away, pushing open the door to the family restroom. Once Seokjin is inside, Yoongi locks the door and slides the bag down his arm. He digs inside, pulling out the hand wipes and motions for Seokjin to give him a minute to clean the stall. Yoongi wipes down everything that he thinks Seokjin will touch and hands his husband a roll of toilet paper that was tucked away in another pocket of the bag. Seokjin steps into the stall and shuts the door, grunting as he tugs down his pants and underwear. Standing with his bare ass out, Seokjin inhales sharply as the baby kicks him again.

“You okay?!” Yoongi reaches for the stall and stops himself at the last second.

“I’m fine!” Seokjin snaps, his scent bitter as he sighs deeply. “Can you get out? I don’t need you listening to me take a piss.”

“No.”

“Yoongi-”

“Just pee already, Seokjin.”

Seokjin? Hearing his name fall from Yoongi’s lips stings but Seokjin bites his tongue. He is the one that kicked Yoongi out of their den. He is the one that won’t let his alpha come back…

A sob breaks the silence followed by the sound of Seokjin relieving himself and the scent of rotten peaches proliferates the air; Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. He looks up at the ceiling and frowns. He wants to kick down the bathroom stall and hold Seokjin in his arms but he knows better.

“I didn’t mean it, nae sarang.”

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, ever since they started their relationship, Seokjin hated being called by his name. He was Yoongi’s darling, his love, his omega…his everything.

The toilet flushes and Yoongi takes a step towards the bathroom stall, waiting for Seokjin to unlock it. Inside, Seokjin weeps, tears dripping down his face as he struggles to pull his pants back up. It is a stupid reason to cry but hearing Yoongi use his first name hurts deeper than any pain Seokjin can recall feeling.

Yoongi sighs loudly and thumps his forehead against the stall as he tries to speak. “Yeobo…I-I-”

What can he say? How can he fix his mistake? All of them.

“I love you, yeobo. You hear me? I fucking love you, Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin manages to tug his pants up and turns around, staring at the stall door.

“You love me?” Seokjin’s question is a knife to Yoongi’s heart but he nods his head nonetheless.

“I would do anything to prove it to you, nae sarang.”

“Anything?”

The lock clicks out of place and Yoongi nearly falls as Seokjin opens the stall door. They stare at each other in silence, Seokjin’s eyes are red and puffy from crying while Yoongi’s are tinted pink from holding his tears back. He takes a step forward, standing toe to toe with Seokjin, looking up slightly at the older man.

“Anything.” Yoongi repeats, his voice firm as he stares Seokjin right in his eyes.

Yoongi’s hands rest on Seokjin's tummy, the warmth seeping through the material of his sweater and Seokjin places his hands over top of Yoongi’s. The pup kicks a few times and Yoongi smiles. He has missed this, missed everything about his mate.

“I miss you, ‘mega.”

Seokjin allows Yoongi to slip his hands underneath his sweater; the skin of his stomach is tight and smooth. The pads of Yoongi’s fingertips scratch against Seokjin’s skin, making goosebump rise and Seokjin shiver.

“Do you miss me?”

His hands trail farther up Seokjin’s sweater, the material loose enough for Yoongi to freely move around. The bottom of Seokjin’s tummy peeks out and he gasps when Yoongi’s thumbs graze the underside of his pecs before they brush over his sensitive nipples. They pebble up, hard and stiff, making Yoongi lick his lips and smirk.

“Always so sensitive around this time…” Yoongi whispers and Seokjin gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing harshly as he inhales shallow breaths of air. Smoky thyme becomes heady and threatens to suffocate Seokjin.

“Do you miss me, yeobo? Miss my touch?” Yoongi pinches one of Seokjin’s nipples teasingly and Seokjin whines, the ache shooting right to his groin and making him chub up as slick starts to wet his underwear.

Leaning in, Yoongi ghosts his lips along the column of Seokjin’s throat. He licks a wet strip with the tip of his tongue at Seokjin’s scent gland, tasting salty flesh and cinnamon peaches before he kisses just below Seokjin’s jaw.

“Say it.” Yoongi orders softly, his breath washing over the wet strip of skin on Seokjin’s neck. “Say you miss me and I’ll do anything.”

Seokjin struggles to find his words, the scent of Yoongi mixed with his touch and words is fogging up his mind. How can Seokjin respond when his mind is nothing more than a warm syrupy puddle?

Yoongi pulls away, his eyes a deep red and merciless as he stares up at his mate from under his lashes.

“No?” Yoongi teases Seokjin’s nipples as he speaks softly, his thumbs tracing small circles on the pebbled flesh. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods his head, humming to himself. “As you wish, omega.” Yoongi slowly pulls his hands from under Seokjin’s sweater, making sure to touch every inch of skin as he goes.

Seokjin’s hands grasp Yoongi’s wrists and Yoongi raises one eyebrow, his face lighting up as one side of his lips quirks upward in an amused smirk. Seokjin’s face is flushed, his chest is heaving up and down and his pupils are dilated, making his eyes look almost black with a thin blue ring. Yoongi knows what that look means. Ignoring Seokjin’s hands on him, Yoongi reaches up and cups Seokjin’s cheeks gently.

Not taking his eyes off his husband, Yoongi pulls him down slightly and tilts his face upward as he leans in again. Their lips touch and Seokjin’s eyes flutter shut as his fingers dig into Yoongi’s wrists. Yoongi allows for Seokjin to control the kiss at first, giving his husband the out he might need if he really doesn’t want Yoongi. Seokjin deepens the kiss, pressing his body as close to Yoongi’s as it can be with his stomach in the way. He is needy, hungry for Yoongi’s touch as he licks at the smaller man’s mouth and nibbles at his lip.

Yoongi gives into Seokjin’s silent begging and lets his mate explore his mouth, taste every bit of himself. Seokjin moans into the kiss as Yoongi slips one of his legs in between Seokjin's and presses up against his fully erect cocklet. It isn’t enough. Seokjin wants more and he starts to rut against Yoongi’s thigh.

“Easy, lovely,” Yoongi whispers into the kiss as he places his hands on Seokjin’s hips. He pulls his mate into his body and presses him against the stall, resting his forehead on Seokjin's shoulder.

“Let me take care of you.” Yoongi shoves his hand into Seokjin’s pants and relishes in the sounds pouring from Seokjin’s mouth as he wraps his fingers around the little cocklet that is squished against his thigh.

“Feel good, yeobo?” Yoongi questions as he smears Seokjin’s precum and slick along the tip of his leaking head. Seokjin throws his head back and gasps as Yoongi’s finger presses into the slit before spreading more of his precum. “Tell me ‘mega-”

Yoongi’s head snaps over to the door when he hears footsteps coming and he slaps a hand over Seokjin’s mouth to muffle his moans. A knock at the door makes Yoongi smirk while Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“Just a moment!” Yoongi calls as he quickens his strokes on Seokjin’s throbbing member. He smiles wickedly at Seokjin and licks at the taller man’s neck whispering hotly in his ear. “Better come quickly. Unless you want everyone to know what a needy little breeding bitch you are.”

Seokjin groans against Yoongi’s hand and his eyes fill with fresh tears. He grabs at Yoongi’s shirt and before Yoongi can say anything, a warm wetness coats his hand. Yoongi’s eyes soften as tears spill down Seokjin’s face, wetting his other hand.

“Oh, yeobo. You really missed me, huh?”

Carefully, Yoongi pulls his hand from Seokjin’s pants and steps away from his husband. He grabs the toilet paper and helps clean Seokjin up before he flushes the evidence down the toilet and washes his hands. He helps Seokjin change into a fresh pair of panties and tugs up his pants, tossing the soiled underwear into a baggy and shoving it at the bottom of the bag.

“I still can’t believe you carry around extra underwear,” Yoongi chuckles and Seokjin’s face flushes.

“S-Shut up!” Seokjin stammers and Yoongi kisses his cheek. They have learned from Seokjin’s first pregnancy that it doesn’t take much for Seokjin to get horny, and they are safer packing a few changes of underwear in case Seokjin gets a little too excited and leaks. Seokjin washes his own hands and splashes his face with cool water before he cuddles into Yoongi’s side feeling tired. Yoongi sprays a small amount of scent neutralizer in the air to mask their scents for anyone who comes in after them. Seokjin’s stomach growls and Yoongi kisses his cheek.

“Come on, yeobo. I think our little one is getting hungry.”

“One day, a little blue fish followed after him. “Rainbow Fish,” he called, “wait for me! Please give me one of your shiny scales. They are so wonderful, and-”

“She is sleeping, naekkeo.” Seokjin’s voice is the softest of whispers as he stands in the doorway of their daughter’s room.

“You know she plays pos- ”

Yoongi is cut off by the sound of a soft snore and he looks over the top of the book in his hand. Miyoung is sound asleep, curled up around one of her bear stuffies that Taehyung got her on her fifth birthday. Yoongi smiles and places the bookmark on the page he is reading before he closes ‘The Rainbow Fish’ and slowly gets up from the seat beside the bed. Setting the book back on the bookshelf, Yoongi walks over to the doorway and takes in the sight of his mate. Seokjin is fresh out of the shower, his hair looks darker since it is still damp and brushed out of his face. He wears a black paisley matching two piece short set that shows off his legs, making Yoongi’s mouth water and dry at the same time.

“Should we head to bed, yeobo?” Yoongi questions as he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Seokjin’s ear. “I’ll give you a massage if you want.” Yoongi wraps his arms around Seokjin’s waist, his hands resting low on Seokjin’s hips, fingers touching the top of his butt. “Rub the sweet almond and grapeseed oil into your skin? Massage your feet and worship your body the way it should be?”

Yoongi takes small steps forward as he speaks and Seokjin steps backwards until they are out of the room. Reaching behind himself, Yoongi pulls Miyoung’s bedroom door shut and taps Seokjin’s hip twice with gentle eyes. Seokjin hums in agreement, a massage sounds like a lovely way to end the night. Nodding his head, Seokjin jumps up and Yoongi easily supports his pregnant mate as his long legs wrap around his waist. Yoongi smiles as the baby kicks away and Seokjin giggles.

“Will you let me do that, yeobo? Let me care for you? Worship you?”

Yoongi presses Seokjin against the wall, trapping him mid air unable to collect his thoughts. Yoongi sprinkles kisses to Seokjin’s neck, shoulders, collarbone and hollow of his throat. His thumb rubs soothing circles on Seokjin’s sides, the warmth a welcoming and promising feeling.

“Would you like that, omega?”

Seokjin’s eyes are half closed, his lids too heavy to keep open as Yoongi whispers everything he wants to do against his skin. He is a weak man. One that feels wanted and loved.

“Y-Yoongi…”

Yoongi sinks his teeth into the side of Seokjin’s neck, a shallow bite but a bite nonetheless. A warning that goes right to Seokjin’s dick. He gasps and slaps a hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

“Are we back to first names, Jin-ah?” Yoongi’s eyes are red, daring as he stares at Seokjin waiting for his answers. Seokjin shakes his head and Yoongi grins, all teeth. “Can’t wait to hear all the pretty sounds you’ll make for me.”

Yoongi wastes no time in carrying Seokjin to their bedroom. He keeps his hands on Seokjin’s ass, squeezing the globs of flesh and teasing the puckered ring of muscle through the fabric of Seokjin’s shorts. It is a sweet torture that Seokjin has craved since Yoongi left. Now that his husband is home, Seokjin will take everything that Yoongi is willing to give him. If he wants to worship his body and play his body like his personal instrument, who is Seokjin to deny such a request?

In the bedroom, Yoongi kicks the door shut and locks it behind him. He walks over to the bed and sets Seokjin down gently. Yoongi doesn’t want to upset the little one that should be sleeping right now inside of Seokjin’s tummy.

“Strip for me, wangjanim.” Yoongi’s words are a soft order and he leaves Seokjin’s side to grab the massage oil, pink silk wrist restraints, the matching silk blindfold and lube. If Yoongi is to worship Seokjin, he is going to do it right. Yoongi hears the ruffling of fabric as he moves around in their shared closet. He steps out and Seokjin is just now stepping out of his sleep shorts. Yoongi smirks when he sees that his husband isn’t wearing any underwear.

Standing by the side of the bed, completely nude, Seokjin wraps his arms around his stomach, rubbing the sore and stretched skin. His eyes are downcast, staring at the new stretch marks that zigzag on his stomach and hips. He has a love, hate relationship with his stretch marks. They show just how much of himself Seokjin has given for his children but they also show the changes his body has gone through. They are a consent reminder that his body will never be the same ever again.

Pale hands come into Seokjin’s vision, flushed and dark at the knuckles and warm as they smooth over Seokjin’s tummy.

“Get out of your head and focus on me, yeah?” Yoongi demands softly as he caresses the tummy that holds his growing child. “You are so beautiful and I can never thank you enough for the life you have given to me. Miyoung and our new little one…they are my blessings.” Yoongi cups Seokjin’s cheek in one hand and runs his thumb over the apple of his eye.

“You are my greatest blessing in this hellish world I live in.”

Leaning in, Yoongi captures Seokjin’s lips and Seokjin’s body relaxes into the kiss. His body follows every order that Yoongi gives and soon, Seokjin is lying at the top of the bed, his back cushioned by soft pillows while his hands are held down by silk restraints tied to the headboard. Yoongi sits beside him on his knees, a pink blindfold held between his hands with that all too familiar smirk present on his face.

“What’s our safe word darling?”

“B-Borahae,” Seokjin stammers as he shivers under Yoongi’s unblinking gaze. He feels like Yoongi is appraising him, trying to relearn and memorize every inch of his body before he is devoured. It makes Seokjin’s tummy tingle with a hot heat that sits low in his groin. For a moment, Seokjin worries that maybe the baby is sitting on his bladder but as Yoongi moves forward with the pink blindfold in his hands, Seokjin knows that he is okay. The material is cool and smooth as it rests against his eyes and presses lightly into the start of the apples of his cheeks.

Yoongi’s hands are warm and rough, calloused from years of killing and never learning the meaning of hand cream until Seokjin came along. Fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they map out paths for Yoongi to follow later on. From the bottom of Seokjin’s jaw, down the length of his neck, across his collarbones, into the hollow of his throat and down over his chest before his nipples are twisted, pinched and pulled until they are stiff and puffy. Down farther, circling his stomach, up, over and around, again and again, Seokjin shivers. His hips are traced and squeezed, his thighs are kneaded like dough and yet Yoongi goes further still.

Seokjin is on cloud nine, his mind a happy mess of cotton candy caresses and syrup sweet seduction as Yoongi’s voice floods his very being. With his eyes covered, Seokjin’s pleasure is completely up to Yoongi and he makes that known with his heated words, whispering into Seokjin’s ears a low ember just starting to burn.

“So good for me ‘mega, showing me everything that you like.” Yoongi hums as he inhales, his nose pressing against Seokjin’s temple as he speaks. “Will you show me more? Humm? Will you show me everything I've missed?”

Seokjin nods his head, a whimper falling from his lips as Yoongi’s blunt nails scratch over the stretched skin of his tummy. Yoongi shushes him before a wet kiss is placed on his shoulder and Yoongi shifts on the bedding. A cap clicks open, ringing loudly in Seokjin’s ears as he tries to guess what Yoongi will do next. Something is squeezed out of the bottle and from the pleasant sweet and nutty scent that wafts into Seokjin’s nose, he knows that it is his sweet almond and grapeseed oil that Yoongi has promised to rub into his skin.

Skin on skin rubbing together, not dry but moistened by the oil makes Seokjin’s stomach flutter in anticipation. Yoongi’s hands are a wonderful torture when he isn’t killing someone. He always applies just the right amount of pressure to pull the sweetest of sinful sounds from Seokjin’s lips. Seokjin jumps as oil slicked hands press onto his calves and start to massage the warmed wetness into his skin. His muscles flex and tremble as they are rubbed, pressed and rolled into malleable mounds of flesh that tingle in relief. The pressure of carrying a baby no longer strained the overworked tendons and Seokjin sighs in content.

“Feeling better?”

Seokjin is sinking fast as Yoongi’s hands skim upwards, now his thighs are the victims of tender touches while feather light kisses cover his tummy. The baby kicks, not enough to hurt but enough for Yoongi to huff out a laugh. The pressure of Yoongi’s forehead pressing into Seokjin’s stomach is soothing as Yoongi mummers to the little one that should be asleep by now. In the quiet of the room, Seokjin smiles to himself as he listens to Yoongi’s secret words. He thinks that his lover might have forgotten that with his eyes covered, his hearing has gotten better.

Yoongi speaks of the days to come, of tiny hands, chubby cheeks and toothless smiles. He promises protection, never ending love and ceaseless laughter. Seokjin believes him, it is a dream that has taken root in his heart. A kiss to the skin where the baby is resting against makes Seokjin’s eyes well with tears and he sniffles a few times trying to get his nose to unclog.

“I haven’t shown you my love and you’re already crying?” Yoongi’s voice is a teasing coo as he rubs Seokjin’s stomach. “Cry if you must. I will not untie you just yet wangjanim.”

Seokjin’s fingers wrap around the bounds at his wrist and he bites his lower lip to quiet his cries. He is filled with so much love just from Yoongi’s words alone and it isn’t enough. His heart craves more. He wants Yoongi to smother him with his love and brand it into his skin again and again. Though if Seokjin really thinks about it (he doesn’t), Yoongi already has branded his skin with his love. The darker zig zag lines that cling to his hips are proof of his love outside of Miyoung and the little one that continues to grow in Seokjin’s stomach. The faded red ring of teeth is another brand, one so loud that it screams in the silence.

More and more kisses are pressed to Seokjin’s skin, following the path that Yoongi’s hand created. Seokjin’s skin is tingling with need, he tries to cross his legs, press his thighs close together to maybe offer some relief but Yoongi is quick. He swats at Seokjin’s left thigh, the skin becoming flushed with the sudden strike. It isn’t hard but enough for Seokjin to gasp as his cocklet twitches. Yoongi shifts on the bed and Seokjin holds his breath as he strains his ears. What is his dear mate up to now?

Hands touch his stomach and Seokjin relaxes into the warmth of Yoongi’s very existence. Invisible shapes are traced onto his skin, his stretch marks are grazed over with so much love that Seokjin struggles to breathe. Yoongi’s breath is cool as it washes over Seokjin’s chin and soon lips are on his. He can taste love on Yoongi’s tongue, unspoken words that are swapped in between split slick tongues and bitten moans.

Yoongi easily settles himself between Seokjin’s spread legs and snakes a hand between their bodies. Having Seokjin sitting up opposed to laying flat on his back, makes the move easier for Yoongi to slide his hand below Seokjin’s swollen stomach and allow for his fingers to pet the dark curls of hair that Seokjin hasn’t had groomed since Yoongi left the house.

Yoongi grins against Seokjin’s mouth as the older gasps, his cocklet again twitching at the promise of getting attention. Yoongi licks into Seokjin’s mouth, hungry and ready to suck down anything that Seokjin will give him.

“Mmm!” Seokjin breaks the kiss panting against Yoongi’s mouth, “P-Please, wanna…wanna feel-” Seokjin’s words fall into messy whines as he tries to grind against Yoongi’s hand, the head of his cocklet just kissing the tips of Yoongi’s fingers.

“Tell Alpha what you want and I’ll give it to you. Tell me what you need.”

“You!” Seokjin sobs, his tears soaking the blindfold and turning it a dark pink. “I w-want you, Alpha!”

Yoongi huffs, his lips pulling into a smirk as he presses his mouth against Seokjin’s once more as he wraps his fingers around his husband’s leaking tip. Seokjin cries harder and Yoongi starts to circle the messy tip with his thumb. It isn’t enough, it isn’t nearly enough but Seokjin will take it. He knows that Yoongi will give him what he wants soon enough.

“I hate it when you cry darling.” Yoongi whispers as he pulls his face away from Seokjin’s and rips the blindfold off his face. Seokjin blinks quickly, his vision blurred with tears and spotted with darkness.

“But, fuck! You look so pretty when you cry for me though,” Yoongi coos as he wipes at Seokjin’s tears with his free hand. He leans forward and licks a missed tear from Seokjin’s cheek and kisses his temple. “Will you let Alpha fuck you, ‘mega? Knock you up with twins this time?”

Seokjin whines and pushes at Yoongi’s chest, “S-Shut up. I’m already p-pregnant!”

Yoongi laughs and licks his lips as he looks down at Seokjin’s large stomach. He is much larger than he was the last time with Miyoung. He slides back and fixes the pillows around Seokjin, placing another at his lower back to help him sit up better since he slid down slightly.

“You have enough room yeobo,” Yoongi teases as he rubs Seokjin’s stomach. “What’s one more?”

Yoongi knows his words don’t make sense but they have the desired effect on Seokjin. His husband will not say it out loud but they both know Seokjin has a breeding kink. And what kind of mate would Yoongi be if he didn’t indulge his heart every once in a while. Yoongi strokes Seokjin slowly, gathering his precum before he slides his hand away, between Seokjin’s ass and teases the fluttering hole. Seokjin’s fingers are pale, his knuckles nearly white from squeezing his restraints so hard and Yoongi grins, all teeth and gums as he pulls his hand away and holds up his palm to Seokjin.

“Sp-”

Yoongi doesn’t even get the chance to speak before Seokjin spits right into his hand, his lower lip glistening from the saliva. Yoongi hums in delight, he loves it when Seokjin is just as nasty as him.

“That’s my good omega. So perfect for me, yeobo.”

Yoongi angles his hand downward and lets Seokjin’s split slide towards his fingers before he reaches back down between Seokjin’s ass. The mixture of spit, slick and precum is messy, slippery and just the right amount as Yoongi slips his middle and index finger into Seokjin with no resistance. Seokjin’s moan is high pitched, almost a keen as he tries to sink down farther onto Yoongi’s fingers. He knows that Yoongi is only two knuckles deep, he can go deeper.

“Easy, darling.” Yoongi teases, his cat eyes trained on Seokjin’s hole sucking his fingers in as he tries to pull them out. The tug of war between the two has Seokjin’s head spinning and Yoongi is unable to look away. He adds his ring finger as well and now Seokjin is falling apart on three of Yoongi’s fingers. The space is tight with a little burn that leaves Seokjin wanting more. Tears once again stream down his face, as Yoongi starts to tug at his flushed and leaking length.

“Make a mess for me to clean. Wanna treat you right, wangjanim”

Seokjin nods his head at Yoongi’s words, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he tries to verbalize his response but it’s no use. He can’t form any words yet alone any sound other than his long drawn out moans as Yoongi pulls him apart. Blood rushes behind his ears. His face, neck and ears are flushed and his heart is pounding so loudly.

“Y-Yoon! F-Fuuuuk!”

Seokjin’s body tenses for a moment as Yoongi’s fingers brush against his prostate. Yoongi grins to himself, this is what he wants. Seokjin is a babbling mess, unable to think of anything but the need to come before he begs Yoongi for his knot. Seokjin’s head is spinning as he paints the underside of his stomach white as his cum shoots out and dribbles down the sides of Yoongi’s fingers. His heart is pounding harshly and so loudly that Seokjin is sure Yoongi can hear it. Yoongi keeps a tight grip on Seokjin’s softening member and eases his fingers out with a smile on his face.

“Too much?” Yoongi muses and Seokjin shakes his head quickly. “Still want more?”

“Want your knot, Alpha!” Seokjin’s eyes are large and wet as he begs for Yoongi. What pretty words he says, always knows just how to get Yoongi to do what he wants.

Not taking his eyes off Seokjin, Yoongi licks at his fingers. His tongue collects the spilled cum and he makes a show of swallowing it all down, humming in delight at the sweet and salty taste. Seokjin bites his lip and watches in awe, his eyes blown wide with a thin ring of blue as Yoongi licks his lips before smacking them. He shoots Seokjin a wink and slides down the length of the bed, his face now between Seokjin’s leg and he licks his lips again.

“Made such a mess for me ‘mega. Let Alpha clean you up and then I’ll give you my knot.”

“Yes!” Seokjin mewls, his legs spreading farther apart and Yoongi chuckles.

Wasting no time, Yoongi licks and sucks away the spilled cum making sure not to miss any. He would hate to waste such a treat. He carefully moves Seokjin’s legs until they are bent at the knees and spread wide apart before he grabs Seokjin’s ass and spreads his cheeks. His slurps up the mess he made, Seokjin spit and slick mixing together on Yoongi’s tongue. From the sounds that Seokjin is making, Yoongi is sure that he could come again without his prostate being touched. Wordlessly, Yoongi grabs Seokjin cocklet and wiggles the tip of his tongue on the slit of the head where a clear bead of precum is already starting to drool out.

“Yoongi!” Seokjin yowls, his pitch high and frazzled.

Yoongi pays him little mind as he wraps his lips around the flushed tip and sucks Seokjin deep into his mouth, his lips and nose tickled by dark pubes. He sucks and swallows around the short length, using his split slicked hand to fondle Seokjin’s balls, silently daring the man to deny him another taste of his cum. Seokjin is sensitive and horny, this pregnancy is worse than his first and with Yoongi between his legs all he can do is come again with his mate’s name on his lips. Yoongi purrs as he gulps down Seokjin’s release and lets the softened member slip from his lips. Licking his lips, Yoongi shuffles back up the bed, still settled between Seokjin’s legs but now hovering over his sweet husband.

“Did so good for Alpha. So fucking perfect for me,” Yoongi whispers as he leans down and captures Seokjin’s lips that are swollen from how much he has bit them.

Seokjin pulls at the restraints on his wrists and nips at Yoongi’s lower lip before he pulls his face away and widens his eyes. From above, Yoongi looks so much larger than he really is. Strands of his dark hair stick to his damp face, his lips are a deep mauve color from spending time between Seokjin’s legs and stealing so many kisses. Yoongi’s shoulders are powerful, wide and tempting. Seokjin wishes he wasn’t pregnant only for a moment just so he can throw his legs over Yoongi’s shoulders as his husband folds him like a pretzel.

“What are you thinking about yeobo?”

Seokjin blinks slowly as he focuses on Yoongi’s face, he looks so natural looming above him and it makes Seokjin’s mouth water as his omega rolls over willingly. He swallows thickly and nuzzles his face into Yoongi’s forearm, littering small wet kisses to the bulging veins that stand out against his pale skin.

“Want you to fuck me A-Alpha,” Seokjin moans, throwing his head back to show off his long marked neck. “Need you so bad.” Seokjin makes his voice airy as he rolls his hips, pressing himself flush against Yoongi’s thick cock. It was a no-brainer when Seokjin found out he was pregnant with Yoongi’s pup. He couldn’t even deny it if he wanted to. Yoongi was made to breed and Seokjin was his to use.

Seokjin’s needy words go right to Yoongi’s cock, the tip is already flushed and angry, drooling clear, honey like precum just from Seokjin’s words. Nodding his head, Yoongi sits back on his knees and strokes himself twice before he lines himself up with Seokjin's puffy hole. He presses the tip of his dick in slightly and the moan that fills the air makes the hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck stand up. God, his husband is so fucking loud and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“You’ll wake the baby…” Yoongi teases as he pulls away and Seokjin whines, turning his head to bite into the meat of his bicep to silence himself.

Knowing that he locked the door already, Yoongi isn’t worried about Miyoung barging into their room, but it is still fun to tease his husband. Plus after Miyoung turned one, Yoongi had their room remodeled so that no one could hear Seokjin’s sinful shouts as Yoongi took him again and again. Narrowing his eyes, Yoongi reaches out and strokes the side of Seokjin’s face. He digs his thumb into Seokjin’s lower lip and pulls slightly, making Seokjin release his bicep from between his teeth. Yoongi makes a scolding tisk as he sucks his teeth and groans as Seokjin sucks his thumb into his mouth.

“That’s it, darling. Stay nice and quiet for me.”

Easing his hips forward, Yoongi’s cockhead is meant with the slight resistance before he slides right in, the warm walls greedily sucking him in little by little. Yoongi nearly forgot how tight his husband is, the way his walls squeeze him like a vice that refuses to let him go. Seokjin’s moans are muffled as Yoongi presses down on his tongue with his thumb. Yoongi’s brows knit together as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush against the back of Seokjin’s thighs.

“M-More!” Seokjin pleads around Yoongi’s finger and Yoongi does as he’s told.

He circles his hips, grinding against Seokjin’s thighs, refusing to move away just yet. He sits heavy inside of Seokjin, carving a place for his cock as he starts to roll his hips like he’s dancing. Seokjin whimpers as he tries to move his own hips but Yoongi is quick to grab hold of them and pin him to the mattress.

“Let me do the work. You just relax and enjoy it, wangjanim.”

Yoongi keeps his eyes on Seokjin’s face, watching as his nose scrunches up in pleasure, his mouth parts and eyes slip close once Yoongi finally starts to really move. He rocks his hips back and forth, the lewd squishing sound nearly drowns out his balls slapping against the wet skin of Seokjin’s ass. It is loud, hot, sweaty and intoxicating. Yoongi wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world and as Seokjin moans his name over and over, Yoongi knows that this is where he is meant to be, forever.

“W-Wait!” Seokjin cries out and he tries to close his legs, pushing Yoongi away.

Yoongi stops all of his movements and raises an eyebrow to which Seokjin inhales a shaky breath.

“Borah-aae.”

Yoongi immediately pulls out and rolls from between Seokjin’s legs. He crawls up to the headboard and unties Seokjin’s wrists, pulling them up to his face and kissing the discolored skin.

“Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

Yoongi’s eyes are wild as they dart around Seokjin’s body trying to find the source of his discomfort but Seokjin shakes his head as he pulls his wrists from Yoongi’s hold.

“I-” Seokjin’s ears burn hot and he wiggles to the edge of the bed.

Yoongi is right there by his side, helping Seokjin stand up on his own two feet.

Splash

Seokjin’s eyes widen and he stands frozen while Yoongi’s eyes drop down to the dark spot of water on the area rug. Slowly, Yoongi’s eyes widen in realization and his head snaps up to look at Seokjin who looks more embarrassed than concerned. Yoongi carefully moves Seokjin away from the mess on the floor and leads him into the bathroom with steady steps, one after the other.

“Any pain?”

“A two?”

“Cramps? Do you want to shower or take a bath?”

“A shower would be nice. I don’t want to go to the hospital smelling like sex, naekkeo.”

Yoongi huffs a laugh and settles Seokjin on the toilet before he starts to set up the shower making sure that the water is warm enough to steam up but not burn Seokjin’s skin. He helps Seokjin into the shower first before he joins him and quickly washes.

“Stay in here and relax. I need to call the guys and pack the car.”

Yoongi moves to leave the shower and Seokjin grabs his arm. He turns around and Seokjin smiles, taking a few steps forward. Seokjin wraps his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and hugs him as tightly as he can.

“I love you, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi hugs Seokjin lightly and rubs his hands up and down the small of Seokjin’s back as he sinks into the love.

“I love you too, Jin-ah.” Pulling away, Yoongi cups Seokjin’s cheek and presses his lips to his. “I’ll be back for you in a minute.”

Yoongi exits the shower and grabs a towel, not bothering to wrap it around his waist as he towels himself off as he walks. In the bedroom, he finds his phone tangled in the clothing on the floor and grabs it. He calls Namjoon first and informs him that the baby is coming and it is time to get shit rolling. Once he is off the phone with Namjoon, Yoongi gets himself dressed in a pair of black sweats and a black t-shirt. He grabs a loose pair of blue sleep pants for Seokjin and a pretty white and blue silk top that will hang down past Seokjin’s stomach.

He grabs the hospital bag from the back of the closet and tosses it by the bedroom door before he goes back into the bathroom to check on Seokjin. Yoongi’s phone dings and it’s a text message from Taehyung, letting him know that he is on the way to his house to stay with Miyoung until it is time to bring her to the hospital to meet her newborn sibling. Yoongi heads down stairs and packs a smaller bag with snacks since he knows that the hospital will not let Seokjin eat before his delivery. A few snacks on the way to the hospital is the best that Yoongi can do outside of the ice chips that they will give to Seokjin.

Yoongi sets both bags by the front door and rushes up the steps to his room. He enters the bathroom again and this time, Seokjin is crying in the shower. Yoongi turns the water off and wraps a towel around his mate’s shaking form.

“Pain level?”

“F-Five,” Seokjin cries and Yoongi’s brows pull together in confusion. “W-What if something is wrong?” Seokjin starts to go down that path and Yoongi shakes his head.

“We are fine, yeobo. The pup is fine. They just got a little excited to meet us.” Yoongi’s voice is as reassuring as it can be. Sure the baby is coming early, a full month early, but Yoongi is sure that everything will be okay.

He helps Seokjin out of the bathroom and gets him dressed. He brushes Seokjin’s hair and tosses it into a claw clip to keep the damp strands out of his face. The sound of footsteps catches Yoongi’s attention and stands behind Seokjin rubbing his shoulders as the older man rubs his tummy soothingly. There is a knock at the door before it opens and Taehyung walks in with Jimin behind him.

“Miyoung still sleeping?” Taehyung questions as Jimin pushes past him to walk into the room and drop down onto his knees in front of Seokjin.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and nods his head as Jimin starts to rub Seokjin’s tummy while speaking in whispers to the baby. Taehyung walks over and gives Yoongi a hug before he pats Seokjin’s head and kisses his cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” Seokjin mummers with a smile as Yoongi and Taehyung help him up from his seat. He is wearing a set of old maternity underwear along with one of the few pads that he had left over from Miyoung’s birth.

“We would do it again in a heartbeat,” Jimin beams as he leans in and wraps his arms around Seokjin kissing his cheek. “Now go! I’m not ready to see the little one just yet.”

Yoongi takes hold of Seokjin’s hand and the two leave the room with Taehyung and Jimin right behind them.

“Hoseok is in charge until further notice. Namjoon will keep everyone posted.”

“You got it boss man!” Jimin and Taehyung both salute Yoongi and he flips them off before he leads Seokjin down the steps.

Yoongi grabs the bags by the door and swings them over his shoulder before he heads outside and to the car with Seokjin. He opens the passenger side and helps Seokjin inside before handing him the snack bag. The other bag is tossed in the back seat and Yoongi jumps into the driver seat. As he puts his seatbelt on he looks over at Seokjin.

“Level?”

“Still a five.”

“How far apart are your contractions?”

“Fifteen minutes...maybe less?”

“We got this darling.” Yoongi backs out of the driveway and heads to the hospital. Halfway there, Seokjin starts his breathing exercises and Yoongi puts on one of Seokjin’s favorite albums on the radio. Seokjin keeps one hand on his tummy, rubbing it in small circles, where Yoongi thinks the baby is and his other hand is laced with Yoongi’s in Yoongi’s lap. Raising their joined hands, Yoongi kisses the back of Seokjin’s hand and grins, all teeth and gums.

“If it’s a girl?”

“Micha.”

“A boy?”

“Youngtae.”

Yoongi’s smile widens. He loves the names that they picked out and he cannot wait to meet his little one. At the hospital, Seokjin is every bit of a monster. Gone is Yoongi’s sweet and gentle lover, now replaced with an angry omega who wishes death upon Yoongi a thousand times over for causing him so much pain. Since Seokjin’s contractions hit all at once so quickly, they missed the cut for an epidural and now Seokjin has to have the baby without one.

Yoongi’s bones feel like they will be ground into dust with how harshly Seokjin’s is squeezing his hand. Both of them are sweating but only Seokjin is sobbing, his face puffy and nose snotty as big fat tears roll down his face. He is screaming, cursing Yoongi for ever tempting him into his nest. He doesn’t say that he hates Yoongi but with how he glares, Yoongi thinks a little part of him might.

A little wail shatters the tension in the room and an urgency like never before floods the room. Seokjin is sobbing into Yoongi’s chest as doctors and nurses run around with different things in their hands. Yoongi smooths a hand over Seokjin’s hair and kisses the top of his sweaty head.

“You did so good, yeobo. So good. Our pup is okay…”

“Wan-wanna see them.” Seokjin whispers, exhausted from childbirth. He just wants to sleep for a little bit but he cannot do that until he sees with his own two eyes that his baby is okay. Yoongi watches the doctors as they move about and soon a nurse walks over with a tiny pink blanket in her arms.

“It’s a girl,” she informs the couple and a new set of tears falls from Seokjin’s eyes. Yoongi’s eyes start to mist over but he clears his throat and helps Seokjin take their daughter from the nurse.

He slides the side of Seokjin’s hospital gown down and eases the baby onto Seokjin’s bare skin. His own hand rests on the baby’s bare back and he finally cries when his little girl’s cries quite right down now that she is safe in her parent’s hold.

“Micha…our beautiful daughter.” Yoongi leans down and presses a kiss to her little head before he kisses Seokjin’s temple. He presses his nose into Seokjin’s sweaty skin and inhales deeply, “I love you. I love you so much, yeobo.”

#yoonjin fic #yoonjin smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #bts angst #yoongi fluff #seokjin fluff #bts gang au #bts a/b/o #bts mpreg #fic: before now and after #soc yoongi #soc seokjin #divider by benkeibear #divider by saradika

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briefhottubcoffee · 1 year ago

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Hello! This is the very first story I have ever put out into the world! I am very nervous and have ~social anxiety~ so please be kind!

This story came to me looking at all the stuff my friend with kids has on her fridge and I thought it would be perfect for the Forgers. My husband helped me brainstorm ideas so it may be multi-chapter. I’m waiting to make an AO3 account. Again I’ve never done this before lol. Apologies if formatting is weird, I only use tumblr on mobile.

Refrigerator Magnets

Loid is grocery shopping with his daughter one Thursday evening, the sky cloudy and gray. He’s so tired. He was assigned two extra side missions this week, dull and mind numbing, but then a patient at the hospital actually did kick him in the stomach! It wasn't just an excuse! Leaving a bruise and a slight wince to appear on his face occasionally when he inhaled. But they needed groceries for this weekend and Anya was still bustling with energy when she came home from school, Yor working late. So out he went, robotically putting ingredients in the cart and leaning his body on it far more than he usually did. Anya was skipping beside the cart, humming a tune, the exact opposite of her father. He could never get on her level.

And then she spotted them, hanging from an endcap as Loid browsed the juices, a package of refrigerator magnets, different colorful animals.

“Papa!” Look! This looks just like Agent Penguinman! And this one is like the lion I saw at the zoo!”

He reaches for the pack, handing them to her for a closer look. She coos at them before putting a cute, purposeful look on her face, flipping the package and standing on her toes for him to see.

“Neat,” he says mildly, gesturing for her to throw them in the cart, and letting her help him steer. He grabs his ingredients and her favorite candy bar before heading to the front. I am a normal, tired father, he thinks, apologetically smiling at the cashier as Anya, pushing the cart she can’t even see over, lightly crashes into the corner of the register.

******

Another Thursday evening, this one a little brighter with Yor’s pretty smile directed at him and the refrigerator magnets bringing some color to their kitchen. She’s helping him start dinner, when the front door bangs open and Bond shoots up from his nap. “Anya has returned!” their daughter shouts, grabbing for her dog.

“Welcome home, Anya. How was your day?” Yor asks, taking her hat from her head.

“Oh! Guess what?” Anya says. She unzips her backpack and rummages through before pulling out a rose pink envelope. “Anya was invited to a birthday party!” She lifts the invitation high above her head, before Loid grabs it.

“Oh? I’m glad you're making more friends.” An excellent source of information for Operation Strix. The parents of this child might be important in Ostania. It might be crucial for her to attend.

“Well, Hannah isn’t really Anya’s friend. She took the last cookie in the cafeteria,” Anya pouts.

“Well… she invited you to her party.”

“She invited the whole class,” Anya shrugs. “But can we go Papa? Can we? I’ll be nice to Hannah! She said there would be ponies! Ponies that we could ride?! And a big slide and an orch-ee-stra, and a magician!”

“My goodness! What an elaborate birthday party!” Yor says, opening the card and marveling at the beautiful, ornate invitation inside, fit more for a formal wedding than a seven-year-olds birthday party. Loid blinks. He supposes this is the norm for rich, pompous people, to spoil their children with extravagant birthday parties and ponies. Anya’s attempts to befriend her more wealthy classmates have not gone particularly well, Damian Desmond in particular, which caused Loid intense stomach pains, but this party could indeed be a big opportunity for the mission. He could meet some upper-class parents, perhaps gather intel, and then, of course, since this girl invited the whole class, Damian Desmond himself might attend. Could his parents even show? His reclusive target? Surely not, but this is still a good chance to get another foot in the door with his young son, a chance for Anya to play nice outside of school, a positive step forward!

“Alright, we can go,” he says. “But you’ll need to get her a present.”

“Ooohh lets go to the Big Toy Store! I can get Hannah a Mega Elephant Circus!” Anya squeals, spreading her arms wide. Loid turns to watch Yor with her pretty smile tack the pricey, shimmery invitation on the fridge with the elephant magnet. This birthday party is going to be a big expense for Operation Strix.

****

The invitation stays on the fridge for weeks, a reminder of the upcoming party and ooting for the Forgers. Before the party, the family heads to the toy store, the huge, expensive toy store, with giant stuffed animals and a freaking merry-go-round in the center.

Anya and Yor spend time checking out all the toys, Anya pointing out all the ones she wants. Loid trails behind, tired again. They settle on getting Hannah a doll tea set, reasonably priced, but still, hopefully, expensive enough to satisfy a rich family. Loid then sits on a bench to rest, watching Anya bounce up and down beside Yor, both waiting to ride the merry-go-round. Yor is such a huge help at times like these. He’s grumpy and worn down. Side missions pile up, patients pile up, and he feels a gnawing frustration at his lack of progress with Operation Strix. Yor’s pretty smile and cheery disposition make up for his failures with their daughter. She can get on Anya’s level. She can match Anya’s excitement about riding on a merry-go-round. She can marvel at a giant stuffed kangaroo with her and come up with a silly name for both the mama and the baby in her pouch. She can crouch down and help Anya snap blocks together as they build a castle complete with a watch tower for Bondman. Present and engaged and sweet all the time.

Last night, Anya was fussy when it was time to go to bed, too wound up to be sleepy. She wailed at Loid as he helped her with her pajamas and tried to tug the covers over her, rolling around in bed instead and kicking her feet up on the wall. Loid felt impatient and drained as he sighed at her. This is impossible. Bedtime seemed like a straightforward task but was so draining in reality. He felt like he would never get this parenting cover right. Yor came in after hearing their bickering, and laughed softly, kneeling down next to Loid.

“Let’s try to hush a bit,” she calmly said to their daughter, smoothing her hair down. Loid watched as Yor pulled out a book and began reading to Anya, and what an idyllic picture they made. Yor’s voice came out in such a tranquil way, her eyes twinkling in the dark room. He couldn’t look away. She kept stroking Anya’s hair, her voice like a melody, her presence like a soothing light. Like a miracle, Anya yawned and her eyes became heavy, and Yor shot Loid a smug look and he felt like he was flying. She was magic. She could do the impossible.

In the present, Loid watches with a frown as the pair climb aboard, Anya tugging on her mothers arm and pointing to the two horses she wants to ride.

“Will the ponies at the party be green and pink like these?” he hears his daughter shout.

“I doubt it,” Yor replies with a giggle, helping the girl on to her horse. The music starts and the ride begins to spin, daughter and mother sending exuberant waves to Loid as they squeal with excitement. Loid feels pensive and melancholy. Cranky. I am no good at this, he thinks. Appearances are everything for a spy, and he supposes he is a good father at surface level, to the bystanders who see him wave to his wife and daughter each and every time they make their way around. But he feels lacking. Anya is a sweet girl and Yor is a lovable mother, he feels another painful kick of guilt at the thought of using them, deceiving them. They deserve the real thing, a matching father to complete their pretty picture, something perfect enough to tack on the fridge and admire everyday. Not someone playing pretend.

It’s what needs to be done, he thinks with finality. He centers his thoughts, reminds himself of the mission, of war, of the invitation on the refrigerator with its elephant magnet, of what this seven-year-old’s birthday party means for world peace. Pull yourself together. He has rich parents to schmooze with, he must appear charming and affable, he must ask all the right questions, not too probing, not too demanding. He has to appear engaged and interested. He has to fit in with the other good fathers. They will be charming and affable, they will laugh with joy at their kids, walk next to them with their hands on their backs as they ride ponies, they will wipe their faces when they're covered in icing. He has to remind his daughter to play nice with Damain Desmond, to be on her best behavior, to not eat too much cake.

He has to crush this child's birthday party. World peace depends on it.

****

The party is too much. It’s so extravagant and pink. There are balloons and peonies everywhere, the birthday girl sits on a gold chair in a pink tutu with a crown on her head. Loid sighs. Next to him, Yor frets with the pink gift bag she’s holding, her lips in a thin line and a crinkle between her brows.

Loid leans towards her. “Rich people,” he scoffs with an eye roll and Yor looks up at him and giggles, swats his arm.

“Hi Becky!” Anya shouts as she pelts across the perfect, giant lawn.

“Anya, don’t crash into anyone,” Loid warns looking around. He immediately hones in on his main target for the day, a young boy with dark hair and a pompous arrogance about him, surrounded by two other boys and glaring at Anya as she twirls around, showing Becky her dress. Loid thinks of a way to move his mission forward, a way for Damian to bring up the Forgers to his father, who is definitely not here, so that he is interested. Perhaps there is a servant or even the boy's mother present? Someone closer to the man in question. Loid and Yor are then approached by the mother of the girl of the hour. Hannah’s family are rich socialites, the father a bank executive.

It’s time to schmooze.

The shmoozing goes well, the birthday party is in full swing. There’s a damn violin quartet in the corner, and waiters dressed as princes and princesses serving hors d'oeuvres to the parents. Loid has gotten a little useful information to bring back to Wise; the fathers had retreated to the mansion shortly after the party began. Loid had joined them for a bit, engaging in a game of poker and listening to the men complain about their wives and their jobs, gathering intel in a room full of cigar smoke. But he grew tired of it.

I have to make sure she and Damian are getting on well, he justifies to himself as he ventures back out to the lawn. He is the only father out there. He sees Yor standing awkwardly with the other mothers and slides next to her, resting a hand lightly at her waist.

“What are you doing back here, Dr. Forger?” Hannah’s mother asks, surprised.

“Oh I wanted to check on Anya. And I missed my wife,” he replies with a charming smile and Yor stiffens and flushes as the other women aww at them.

Anya and Damian are not interacting, at least not in any friendly way. Loid watches as Damian shoves past Anya and Becky in line for the pony ride.

“Rude!” Shouts Becky as Anya sticks her tongue out at him. Well… their relationship hasn’t improved much.

Loid blinks. There are at least ten ponies and only one handler, he seems a little overwhelmed at the task at hand, monitoring young children on little ponies trotting in a circle.

“Is no one going to help?” Loid asks Hannah’s mother, gesturing towards the pony ride.

“Well the boys are busy inside,” she replies with a sniff. “He’s got it covered.” And that’s the end of that.

This isn’t going to go well, Loid thinks as he rushes over, just as Damian Desmond tries to climb on to a pony alone. His foot gets stuck in the saddle, and he falls over. Tears well in his eyes as the other kids laugh at him. All except Anya who walks over to him.

“Here you go!” Anya extends her hand to Damian. He frowns at her, a bright red blush on his cheeks. “I don’t need your help, dummy!’ He shouts in reply. Despite the kids reaction, Loid is proud of his daughter for being caring and kind, compassionate and warm. Yor is raising her well.

“I’ll help you up,” Loid says, picking up the boy and placing him on the horse. Damian looks at him suspiciously. “You’re shorties- I mean- you’re Anya’s pops right?” he asks.

“Yup! Horses can be a bit intimidating at first, but you’re up here now! Just hold on tight to the reins and you’ll do great,” He says. His mind is running a million miles an hour. Don’t overdo it, this may get back to Desmond, be kind and fatherly, I am a good dad, I am a normal dad.

Damian is still blushing but mutters his thanks. Loid realizes this kid is alone. No guardian for him, he must have attended with friends. The ponies begin their circle. Loid stays nearby and straightens up the kids as needed, teaches them how to tuck their shoes into the saddle, how to hold the reins correctly. The handler shoots him a grateful look. The mothers are looking at him curiously. Maybe he messed up. Maybe he should be inside with the other men. Maybe it’s not normal, but it didn’t seem right to him to be like the other fathers. The men smoke inside while the women gossip outside, helpers and nannies monitoring the kids. It was so detached. He had felt something unsettling in his gut, something he couldn’t ignore. Maybe he actually did want to check on his daughter, maybe he actually did miss his wife. She’s looking at him now, her pretty smile back. He feels like he’s flying again. Anya is laughing with joy on her pony, the sound like bells, waving at her father.

No good, this is no good. This isn’t going to go well. He tries to center himself, remind himself why he’s actually here. But he can’t. He’s going around in circles. He’s flying high.

****

They return home from the party, everyone exhausted. Anya is quick to settle for the night, he considers nights like these where she is actually tired a miracle indeed.

“Night, Papa,” Anya mutters, closing her eyes and snuggling with her chimera. Loid hums and smiles, affection rising in his stomach. Anya is a good kid. Disruptive and loud, but sweet and happy, reminding him of the good in the world.

Once she is tucked into bed, he sighs and settles on to the couch, petting his dog on the head. Yor’s quiet tonight. She shuffles around the kitchen making tea, he sees her take down the party invitation from the refrigerator and tuck it into a box they keep on a shelf. She hands him his tea and he shoots her a grateful smile, but she’s looking away, her lips in a tight line and her frown back between her brows.

“What’s up?” He asks, letting the steam from the tea settle on his face. She looks at him and blushes, his heart stutters in his chest.

She sits with her tea and shakes her head. They stay silent. He listens to his dog snoring softly and the clock tick, as he and his wife watch each other with their tea. It’s a good night. It was a good day. He spent time with his family, for the mission, he reminds himself. He feels calm and warm, his mind slow, helpless, thinking of the picture they make in this living room, an idyllic picture.

“You’re a good father,” she says finally. “One of the best, I think.”

She blushes pink and her eyes twinkle and her pretty smile is back and Oh. I am flying again.

#spy x family #twiyor #loid x yor #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #damian desmond kinda #there’s no plot #and I thought it’d be fun to give Loid some anxiety about being a good father and husband instead of Yor #my first fanfic!!#spy x family fanfiction

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onemeangreenbean · 1 year ago

Text

Anything Ch 3

SUMMARY: On the precipice of death Wynter does the only thing she can think to do to save herself. Something that is forbidden in her practice….to summon a demon and make a deal. The demon that answers her call ask what Wynter is offering and in her delirious state she answers with the only thing she can think of “Anything”.

PAIRING: Demon!Yoongi x BlackWitch OC

GENRE: Demon AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Soulmates, Smut, Fluff, Angst, slowburn

WARNINGS: violence, gore, murder (maybe), eventual smut, panic attacks, honestly my brain has stopped but promise each chapter with have individual warnings!

WORDCOUNT: 5,550

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Anything Masterlist | Masterlist

Sunlight filtered in through the crack in the blinds. Slowly waking Wynter out of her sleep. Her body heavy and sluggish as she rolled over and to grab her phone. It was 7:45 am, meaning that she was already running late to work. While Namjoon did get to the store extremely early, he was usually busy prepping and maintaining all the spells or rituals that were working overnight. Though if she called and told him she wasn’t feeling well, he probably wouldn’t mind. Wynter had never called off since she started working, but knowing Namjoon he would stop by to check on her and that was not something she could afford with Yoongi posted up on her couch.

Head pounding Wynter pulled herself up and texted Namjoon.

Wynter: Good morning best boss in the world! I will be a bit late. I’m feeling a bit under the weather but I’m fine to come in.

Joonie: You don’t need to come in if you’re not feeling well. I can handle the place by myself today. I actually think Tae might be able to come and help today. I’ll stop by afterwards to check on you

This is exactly what she didn’t want.

Wynter: Really I’m fine to come in. Nothing my mama’s secret tea can’t fix. I promise I’m fine. If I show up and you think otherwise you can kick me out!

Joonie: Okay…..but don’t push yourself too hard.

With some extra time added to her morning. Wynter removed herself from her bed and made her way to the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Yoongi was still sprawled on the couch asleep, feet hanging off the end. Only a little tuft of long black hair poking out of the blanket. Wynter smiled a little at the sight before closing the bathroom door behind her.

Quickly showering and going through her morning routine. Wynter threw on her green silk bathrobe and went to go make her tea. When she exited she saw the Yoongi was no longer asleep but awake. Wrapped in her blanket he was watching tv and eating a bowl of cereal. Cheeks still puffy with sleep and hair a mess. His eyes slowly dragged their way over to her form in acknowledgment before going back to the tv. “Good morning.” Wynyer greeted as she made her way around the couch and to the kitchen.

She pulled open the drawer where she kept her teas. The 1 oz mason jars were organized in neat little rows labeled clearly on the top. The joys of having an herbalist as a mom was that Wynter never had a shortage of tea for any occasion or aliment. Finding the mason jar labeled “For Mama’s Baby” in her mama’s neat handwriting, Wynter plucked it up and opened it. The scent of peppermint and lavender filled her nose and instantly reminded her of home.

It was a special blend that helped with illnesses of all sort. Really a catch all tea for when you didn’t know what was wrong - 9 times out of 10 it worked. Yoongi watched her from the couch as she walked around the kitchen and made her tea. When she made to turn around he fixed his attention back to the random show that was on and stuffed his face with more cereal.

“Is it good?” Wynter sat on the other end of her small couch, leaving enough space for a person between them. Her floor length rope falling open a bit showing her smooth leg, while she sipped her tea.

“Yeah,” Yoongi mumbled with his mouth full. They sat in comfortable silence and watched the anime that was on. Wynter wondered if this was what it was gonna be like for the next five years. That was honestly still crazy to her. Five years was so long. She watched Yoongi as he stared intensely at they screen, he brow furrowed in thought, pulling his lips into a pout as he tried to understand what was happening on the screen. Cute.

“Do you plan on just staring at me all morning or do you not have work today?” Wynter chocked a little on her tea as he called her out. Feeling her face warm a bit. Yoongi smirked at how cute she looked flustered.

Averting her eyes she took another sip of the calming tea before she spoke. “I wanted to say thank you for last night. You didn’t have to help me.” It had taken her by surprise that he took the time to help calm her panic attack down. While he was still aloof and cold his touch had been gentle, grounding her.

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to feel flustered. Scratching the back of his neck, he placed the empty bowl on the small coffee table in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna do some digging into this Jiyeon girl and see if I can find out anything about her or what her motive could be. What all do you know about her?” He needed to change the subject, because thinking about how Wynter being upset had also upset him brought more confusion to his mind than he cared to admit.

“Well, before she tried to kill me, allegedly, she said that she was a university student studying linguistics. Lives alone, single, interested in the occult. She herself doesn’t have a lot of power. I could barley sense it when we hung out.” Wynter rambled about what she knew, which honestly wasn’t a lot. Jiyeon had said that she was adopted and after some digging realized that her birth parents were shamans. She had confided in Wynter that she wanted to cultivate whatever magic she did have.

Magic was something that needed to be cultivated, practiced, and maintained, or it was lost. Which is way training usually started early. But depending on how strong your bloodline was you could cultivate at any age, it would just take more work.

Yoongi hummed and ran his hand through his hair. If what Wynter was saying was true than this girl shouldn’t have been able to place this curse. Though it could also just be beginners luck. “Okay. I’ll look into it. In the mean time you go about like nothing is wrong if you run into her. Were you able to find anything yesterday?”

Taking another swig of her tea. Wynter could feel her body starting to feel lighter, her mama’s tea working. “Um, no. All the books in the store are rudimentary at best. I’ll have to look through Joon’s personal collection in the back if I want to find any info of use.”

Yoongi still didn’t like the shaman that Wynter worked for. Still hadn’t ruled him out for trying to kill her but if he expected her to trust him he’d need to extend that same courtesy to her judgment as well. “Okay. Just don’t tell him what’s going on.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Wynter said as she downed the rest of her tea and finished getting ready. Throwing on a bright yellow sundress since it was sunny and warm outside. The yellow popped against her skin making the brown deeper and richer like velvet. The low cut neckline made her boobs look great and gave the allusion that they were probably bigger than they actually were. The hem falling a little below her knee. Her mama always told her that if she didn’t feel good, at least look good. It’ll trick you into thinking that you’re fine. Now was that good advice. Probably not but it worked for Wynter.

When she walked out of the bathroom Yoongi felt that pull in is chest again. She looked absolutely delectable. He felt his mouth water as he watched her put her bag together and throw her sandals on. Her curls hung in loose coils around her head, trailing down until about mid back. “Let me walk you to work.” Yoongi languidly got off the couch. For some reason he did not want to be out of her presence just yet.

“You don’t need too.” She shook her head and walked out the door, with Yoongi trailing after her. “Don’t you have to go and spy on Jiyeon?” Wynter playfully whispered as she made her way out of the apartment building.

She was right. He should get started on figuring out what Jiyeon was up to but he also wanted to hold on to what little time he had left with Wynter this morning. No, that’s not why he was following her. He was just making sure that his “investment” made it to work in one piece. He needed to keep that distinction straight in his head. He would check back in with her later that day. Probably grab another coffee at the cafe across from the store. To make sure that she doesn’t get herself killed.

Wynter walked stealing little glances at the pale demon who was clearly having some intense internal monologue. While his face remained pretty passive, he had a small twitch in his right eye that was giving him away. She figured he didn’t even realized he had the tell. “I’ll try to be back around lunch. Try not to die.” That was all he said before he disappeared into the ether.

The rest of her walk went by without incident and when she made her way into the shop there were a few patrons milling about. Namjoon was over by one of the bookcases restocking the shelves. Wynter was gonna leave him to his own devices until she saw the look of clear confusion on his face. She placed her tote in the little space under the counter. “You look like you’re solving the world toughest problem over here.” She walked around some of the smaller shelves over to him.

“I feel like I am. Is there a reason-” Namjoon turned around and let his sentence trail off. His mouth hung slightly open as Wynter tried to watch him reboot his brain.

“Is there a reason why what?” Wynter suppressed her laugh as Namjoon clicked his mouth shut and cleared his throat. Pushing up his glasses he turned around and grabbed the tablet with the spreadsheet of the shops stock.

“Why are these not in alphabetical order. It’s impossible to figure out where any of these books go.”

“Well, Boss Man Namjoon, you said and I quote ‘No one knows who any of these authors are they just know what they’re looking for’” Wynter dropped her voice and did her best impression of Namjoon. He stared at her owlishly from behind his glasses.

“First off, I do not sound like that.” He pouted while Wynter laughed at him. “Second off, how do you even know where to place things.”

Still laughing Wynter just grabbed the book from Namjoon's hands and began shelving. “Just go back to your hideout and make potions. Leave the front of the house to me.” Wynter began shelving the books that he had placed on the cart easily. Her slender hands making quick work of the clearly offensive books categorized by topic. With her back facing him, Wynter missed the fondness and longing the filled Namjoon’s eyes at her referring to the shop so familiarly.

Her yellow dress swished around her as she went about helping costumers and cleaning. Wynter had never been more thankful to her mama then at this moment cause she felt nothing like she did when she woke up. Full of too much energy for how slow today seemed to be. While that meant she had enough downtime to go pursue the shelfs in Namjoon’s backroom. She was still trying to find a viable way get back there without drawing suspicion.

The door bell chimed as she was on the ladder stocking the top shelves. “Noona!” Taehynug’s baritone voice called out over the low hum of the desk fan Wynter had on. He bounded over to her his chocolate hair flopping around him. “Hyung, said that you weren’t feeling well! You shouldn’t be up that high.”

He stared up at her with his puppy eyes, big and round in concern. Scoffing, Wynter continued to work. “You worry to much, Tae. I’m fine. Just hot.” The day had gotten increasingly hotter as it progressed, the large storm from the past two days making Seoul feel like a sauna. She wiped some sweat from her brow, suddenly regrating wearing her hair down. The curls clinging to the sweat slick skin on her back.

“I worry the perfect amount. Jin hyung is the one the worried too much.” Wynter hummed in agreement as she made her way down the ladder. Tae held out his arm for her to grab onto as she took the last few steps. “He’s been making you his famous get well soup all morning. Been fussing over it not being right.”

Wynter wasn’t surprised that Jin was making her something to eat. The oldest of the Kim’s was a master healer, much like her mama. Jin’s mode of choice was food that contained potent healing properties. He had really perfected the art, even opening up his own restaurant down the street. Namjoon excelled in many things but particularly spell work. He could generate a spell out of nothing, always pushing the boundaries of what is and what could be. Did it help that he was a magical prodigy who picked up on most things quickly? Probably. Taehyung, was a seerer, able to have prophetic visions. According to him some events and futures were set but most were in flux. He helped out a both of his older brothers places when he wasn’t painting murals or commission pieces.

She considered herself lucky to have found and been taken in by such a loving family. They treated her as one of there own. “Are you actually helping today or are you going to keep distracting me?” Wynter smirked as she walked over to plop in front of the fan, grabbing a wayward flyer to fan herself more.

I would never distract you, noona,” Tae feigned innocence as he came and pulled himself onto the counter.

“You’re brother doesn’t pay me to sit around and talk to you all day.” Tae furrowed his brows and looked around the empty shop.

“I can see you’re so busy today.” Laughing Wynter hit Tae in the arm with the flyer He clutched his shoulder pretending as if she had given him some grave wound. “Besides, Joon hyung would pay you for just -”

“Tae!” Namjoon stalked out of the backroom and up to his younger brother. “Stop harassing, Wynter.” Tae held his hands up in surrender as Namjoon’s ear began turning red. “I’m glad it’s slowed down so I could talk to you about why Taehyung is here.”

Wynter turned slightly to give Namjoon her full attention. Noticing that he had taken off his sweater and was only donning a thin white button up. “I didn’t want to worry you with it but a few days ago someone summoned a powerful demon.” Wynter hoped the deep breathe she took came off as anxiety about the big bad demon and not as anxiety about getting caught that it was her. “It’s nothing we can’t handle but we’re having a hard time tracking him. He seems to be highly guarded this time, but Tae has been able to track him to the area.” Tracking demons, was one of Taehyung's specialties, as he was able to catch glimpses of after images in time.

“I’m telling you this in case you come across him. I don’t want you to be unprepared and defenseless.” Wynter took in Namjoon’s demeanor and could see that he was really worried about this. She couldn’t tell him that said demon was living in her apartment and that he was “highly guarded” because of her protection wards. “I made you these.” He handed her some bottles filled with a thick green looking liquid. “It won’t do a lot but it’ll give you enough time to get to safety.”

Nodding, Wynter placed the small bottles in the pockets of her dress. It would be good to have them for later use. She still needed to find a way out of this contract after all was said and done with the Jiyeon situation. “Do you know who the demon is by any chance?” She tried to keep her voice as even as possible.

“Yeah,” Tae answered. “He’s name is Min Yoongi. He’s a nasty demon too.”

“Oh,” Wynter responded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Oh yeah. He was this tyrant king who was so powerful that it took our clan teaming up with three others to defeat him.” Wynter felt herself shiver at the thought. It took four powerful shaman clans to defeat him. It somehow didn’t surprise Wynter that he was a king, since he looked like he’d never heard the word no a day in his life. “He’s bloodthirsty, cruel, and a different level of evil altogether, so we’ll have to take out whoever summoned him too so they can’t do it again.”

Wynter knew that the brothers came from a long line of shamans. The knowledge from every generation was passed down to the next. Passing their memories and experiences down to the next set in order to keep the knowledge that they gained as pure as possible. Namjoon had explained it once. He had said that it was like looking through water. He could see everything his ancestors had been through, their love, their losses. It was a unique from of ancestor worship that the Kim clan had perfected. So if they had fought Yoongi before it meant that he was more powerful than Wynter gave him credit for. The Kim clan really only ever got involved with demons that threated the balance of good and evil in the world.

They were going to kill her. Literally and figuratively, when they found out. She was fucked either way. “But,” Namjoon cut Tae of before he could continue seemingly taking her spariling for fear. “We have it under control. With him only being in our realm for a short time he shouldn’t be at his full strength yet. So, please don’t worry too much about it. You’re too pretty for that,” he said softly as he moved a piece of her wayward hair out of her face.

“Yeah. I’m totally not worrying.” She said tersely as she fanned herself harder.

Yoongi had been trying to locate Jiyeon all day with no luck. He had tried the university where Wynter said she went and thought he caught a whiff of her essence but lost it. He knew what it he was looking for because all magic had a signature of whoever did it, no matter how rudimentary. What was irritating him was it was like as soon as he picked up on it and got close, the trail would slip through his fingers like smoke.

It felt as though he would make it to a place moments after she had left. If what Wynter said about Jiyeon’s power level was true then she should’ve been easy to track and locate. He’s found more powerful folks with less effort. Yoongi had been hopping across Seoul all day and was beginning to feel irate. He stood in a park next the the Han river. Watching as it meandered by slowly. It hadn’t really changed all that much from when he was ruler. A little ruddy, but that was it.

The breeze ruffled Yoongi’s black hair causing him to run his hand through it to tame the flyaways once again. He needed to think. If he couldn’t find Jiyeon then that meant that someone or something was protecting her. Another demon or entity more powerful than him, which was a small but scary list. Something about the whole thing felt off because even if that was the case why attack Wynter. He needed to figure out where and when this death curse came from so he could narrow down who all would be involved.

Yoongi inhaled at Han park and exhaled in front of an abandon monastery. The location was nestled deep within the Baekdu-daegan mountains in North Korea. The mountain range was known to pool massive amounts of spiritual power. There were many Buddist temples and monasteries along the range but Yoongi had discovered this one a few decade after becoming a demon.

As far as he knew he was the only one that knew about it and he wanted to keep it that way. Yoongi was sure that Jungsoo had his underlings looking for him. He honestly didn’t need the headache. The stone steps were eroded and beginning to crumple as he made his way up the large staircase. It was a long walk but not too difficult, he couldn’t just apparate into the place itself as the Buddist monks had done an excellent job of putting up a barrier that lasted long after they had died.

The wooded door opened with a loud creak as he slipped inside the long abandon halls. He made quick work of making his way to the library and going through the ancient scrolls. The only sound filling the space was the rustling of parchment and the wind coming in through the cracks. He was looking for any information that fit the bill for this death curse.

Yoongi had seen his fair shares of death curse, and delt them out. They ranged in effects but were pretty fast moving. Draining the victim of their life essence through fear or brute force. From causing the victims to go mad and kill themselves, to creating vivid hallucinations of their worst nightmares, to causing a physical malice that ended in a horrible and painful death. Either was it was a shitty way to go. He had never come across or even seen the one that Wynter had.

At the end of the day with folks who possessed magic a death curse would kill them, as well as destroy whatever magic they had. Tossing it into the void to be dispersed and reconfigured into later generations. It was complicated and many beings, including demons had me trying for millenniums to beat the system with deadly results. But someone had figured it out. The curse that Wynter had was not just killing her but filling her up. Pushing her soul out until whatever could inhabit her vessel. Keeping her magic in tact.

Yoongi had to give it to whoever created the curse, it was innovative and good. Definitely not the work of a beginning practicineer. He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the scrolls. He wasn’t really getting anywhere just that it had to be a combination of two separate curses, but which combination was the problem. The ancient script on the scroll he was reading was beginning to run together. He was about to chuck it into the ever growing pile of useless shit that was behind him, until her saw something that made him pause.

While rare it is possible for demons who were once humans to develop latent soul bonds that should have been formed in their lifetime.

Yoongi readjusted himself at the stone table so that he could study the writing better.

These bonds can be anything from parent to child, eternal enemies, eternal friends, but the most common form we see this happen with are soulmates. Humans who became demons renounce these soul bonds in order to tap into demonic power which is void of these bonds. Though if a bond is strong enough it can be reformed when the two are in proximity to each other. These bonds will feel distinct from contractual bonds that demons make with humans.

Soulmates. Yoongi fell back in the chair in disbelief. He had made his fair share of bonds in his lifetime as a demon. They all usually felt the same. Soft and brittle forged from the fleeting expectations that comes with the contract. Always sat in his stomach for some strange reason. But the bond her had with Wynter was solid. It filled him with warmth and hope, and it was bright. If he really concentrated he could see the little golden string that bounded them together in the ether as it came out of his heart.

Yoongi didn’t have a soul so it shouldn’t even be possible, but still. He rubbed the offending part of his chest, willing the connection to tamper down. “Is there a reason you’re here in this dump?” The sound of Hosek echoed through this temple. He was walking through the door and towards Yoongi. His bright red hair and equally as colorful outfit standing out against the dark room.

Rubbing his eyes, Yoongi sat back up in his seat. “Trying to get some piece a quiet clearly. How did you even find me?” Yoongi knew those wards were tough so he was honestly a bit concerned the Hobi had found him so quickly.

Sitting on the bench across from him Hobi simply shrugged his shoulders and smirked. “I’m always gonna find you, bro. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your grumpy eternal life.” Yoongi just rolled his eyes. Hobi had been his head general, as well as his closest friend, when Yoongi was king. He had followed behind Yoongi without questions becoming a demon, along with two other men of his trusted inner circle.

“I wanted to give you a report on what’s been happening. I’ve been able to round almost a legion of demons to fight. Jungkook almost half a legion. Jimin is having some problems with Shindong in the south but for the most part he’s holding his own.” Hobi waited for Yoongi to respond but when all the former king did was stare at the table he continued.

“ We have almost ten thousands demons backing us. We’ve been trying to keep things as quiet as possible for planning but Jungsoo has his bitches attacking us from every direction. He’s sent Eunhyuk and Heechul to search for you. What are your orders?”

Letting out a deep sigh Yoongi ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t want this. Any of this. In no way, shape, or form did he want to lead this rebellion. He truly just wanted to get out from under Jungsoo, the current king in the underworld, thumb. Didn't realize that everyone shared that same thought. “I don’t know. Why don’t you lead it? You seem to have everything under control.”

“Because you’re my king and where you lead I follow.”

“Hobi.” Yoongi sighed. “I haven’t been your king for over a three centuries. I keep telling you that we’re equals at this point.” Hobi just leveled a stare at Yoongi. His lips pulled down into a frown. Yoongi knew that he was going to get nowhere with this conversation anytime soon. With resigned breathe Yoongi ran his hand down his face. “Look, continue what you’re doing. We’ll need to have as many demons as we can on our side if we even have a chance at winning this. Also, tell Jimin to lead Shindong to Solar’s realm. I believe that she has a bone to pick with Shindong anyway so she’ll be able to help.”

Humming, Hobi nodded in agreement. “What are you doing anyway?” He looked at all the scrolls that were surrounding Yoongi. Pulling another scroll over the one he was reading about soul bonds, Yoongi cleared his throat.

“I took a contract.” Hobi raised an eyebrow for Yoongi to continue. “Some foreigner accidentally summoned me to remove a death curse. I was going to just leave her but saw her magic and I’ve never seen it before. Figured it could be useful to fight Jungsoo.” What he said was true, for the most part. Yoongi went on to explain the death curse and why he was looking at all the scrolls.

“I’ll keep an ear out for who’s experimenting with curses.” Hobi said. Yoongi’s shoulders sagged in relief. Hobi was great at gathering intel which was what made him Yoongi’s best general. “What’s her power?”

“I’m unsure, honestly. It’s dark in nature, like it’s absorbing light and energy around it. I haven’t gotten to see her use it in person.” Yoongi mumbled. “From what I can tell she doesn’t seem to want to use it or is scared of it.” Yoongi thought back to the dinner that they had and how Wynter’s brain went silent at the mention of failing her test. He figured it had something to do with her power.

“Okay. I’ll leave you to you’re precious alone time and research. Be on the look out for those two assholes.” Hobi waved has he apparated out of the library leaving Yoongi in silence once again.

Wynter closed the shop up while Namjoon and Tae worked in the backroom trying to come up with a game plan to find Yoongi. It was still wild to her that they knew who Yoongi was. She needed to boost up the wards at the apartment so she could keep him hidden for a bit longer. Wynter really hated having to lie and hide things for Namjoon. It felt like a betrayal, even though she did not mean to summon a demon as powerful as Yoongi.

She still had to get to the books that Namjoon had tonight. She couldn’t afforded to lose another day of research because she was scared Namjoon would see through whatever lie she came up with. As Wynter cleaned she did her best to hype herself up to talk to Namjoon. The sun was just beginning to set casting a orange hue within the shop by the time she had finished. After making sure everything was straight she ventured back towards his workspace. Knocking twice on the wooden doorframe, Wynter heard Namjoon let out a low “mmm” signaling that he was listening as he worked on a potion with Tae.

Tae gave her small smile as walked in. They looked exhausted from working on this. “Is there a way I can borrow one of your books, Joon?” He looked up from whatever he was concentrating on to look at her. She swayed on the balls of her feet, hands clasped behind her back as she waited for his answer.

“Yeah,” he says curiously. “Are you looking for books that will be helpful for controlling your power?”

“No.” Wynter tone was clipped as she forced a smile on her face. “Um, no. I don’t think I’m quite ready to deal with that yet.” Both Namjoon and Tae’s face morphed into ones of pity. It made Wynter’s skin crawl know that they pitied her and her fear of her power, but if they knew what it could do they’d be scared of it too. “It actually has to do with that dream I had a few days ago. It’s just stayed with me you know.” She tried to sound as non chalant as she browsed through one of Namjoons many shelves.

“Dream?” Tae’s interest was piqued. He was great at dream interpretation.

“Yeah,” Namjoon answered. “She mentioned it two days ago.” Wynter could see the wheels in Namjoon’s head turning. Making connections. “What was your dream about again?”

He sat down the vial that was in his hand on the table, giving her his full attention. She started out slowly trying to piece together the right words to not alert Namjoon or Tae. “In it I was in a really dark room lying on the floor and there was a figure standing over me. It became really hard to breathe like my lungs were collapsing in on themselves, honestly it felt as though my whole body was being crushed and pulled apart at the same time.”

Now that Wynter was recounting it she felt as though her body was reliving the trauma. “It was so hot, it felt like my blood was boiling out of me. I could even feel blood coming out of my mouth and ears and eyes. It –” Wynter felt her throat begin to close as the room begin to close in on her, fading to black along the edges of her vision. She didn’t even notice that Namjoon had stopped working all together and was standing in front of her, trying to get her to refocus, or Tae frantically searching for something on the shelves of potions.

She didn’t even notice that blood had began to drip from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “Hey hey hey,” Namjoon spoke softly. “Wynter can you hear me? Wynter I need you to look. Baby, I need you to focus on me.” She could barely hear him through the ringing in her ears. Wynter could see his eyes franticly searching hers as she tried to focus like he was asking her.

Looking at his lips she could see that his was saying something but the ringing kept getting louder until suddenly it stopped, and Namjoon can into focus. The chocolate eyes searching hers, to make sure that she was with him. The fear that his gaze held scared her. “Namjoon, I don’t feel good.”

#bts x reader #bts smut #bts x black reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x black reader

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