#ty for waiting this reply is criminally late

[kyanitesaphire]

Lightning In A Bottle

Spencer × OC

During his morning commute Spencer meets Eclair, an unusual woman with a more unusual past that she has no memory of. A Criminal Minds sub-plot rewrite of seasons 11-15 with original added plot.

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The sky was so dark, the hour seemed late although it was still early morning and the air was charged with the looming promise of a storm like a blood oath from the atmosphere. Spencer waited for what felt like an eternity for the pot of coffee to finish brewing. By leaving for work a few minutes early to avoid the transit rush, he’d made it to the coffee shop just as the morning rush ended and depleted their reserves .

He stood at the receiving counter and watched intently as the dark beverage drained slowly into the decanter. For a brief moment the shop went quiet as he was the only remaining customer before a light energetic jingling filled the air drawing his attention to the entrance. A woman appearing to be about his age came in half skipping half dancing as she approached the order counter. She wore a thick knitted light brown cardigan over a grey-lilac sundress, clunky black boots with thick rubber soles, and a bright blue ribbon with bells tying the crown of her hair up providing the chaotic jingling that filled Spencer’s ears.

“Damn E, what’s got you so chipper on this drab Thursday? Is it your birthday or something?” One of the baristas asked as she began to dispense a hot chocolate into a tall take out cup.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it’s the fine weather.” She replied still swaying excitedly as she placed her money on the counter. Spencer furrowed his brow at the odd remark and looked out the front window. Sure enough the skies had just opened up and the pavement already glistened in the ensuing downpour as the sound of rolling thunder rumbled over the city.

“Here you are, one of your favorite sweets with your name on it.” The barista said sliding a small plate with a chocolate éclair across the counter.

“Well I’d hope it had my name on it, otherwise your giving me the wrong pastry.” The bubbly patron quipped as she sashayed past Spencer to a small table by the window. Spencer cleared his throat to get the baristas attention upon noticing the coffee he was waiting on had finally completed its brewing cycle. He reached into his leather messenger bag and pulled out the umbrella he’d packed before leaving his apartment while the barista filled his cup and vigorously blended the heap of sugar into the coffee before pressing a lid onto it. Suddenly he noticed a rhythmic and repetitive brushing against his leg. He looked over and noticed the peculiar woman bent over the receiving counter next to him bouncing her hips side to side.

“Damn Éclair! You need to cool it with you animal planet mating dance. This guy doesn’t even shake hands, I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate you bumping your hips all over him.” The barista scolded handing Spencer his coffee. “ You’ll have to excuse her. Her brain is like Swiss cheese and she forgets herself.” She continued as she retrieved the hot chocolate from the dispenser.

“Technically I only forgot myself once. I just forgot so hard I’ll probably never remember.” Éclair joked as she turned her head to look up at Spencer, making her platinum blond and electric blue hair to fall to one side and her bells to chime playfully. Spencer gave an awkward and confused smile as he situated his umbrella and grabbed his coffee. He was about to turn and leave when his brain finally processed the unusual banter he was in the middle of.

“Are…are you saying you have amnesia?” He asked partially forgetting the urgency of his departure.

“Yeah, apparently I was in some kinda accident or attack or something. They didn’t give me all the specifics but the psychiatrist said my brain is holier than the Vatican, and I’m lucky to be alive let alone cognizant.” Éclair explained as she cradled her beverage in her hands.

“Now she frequently unnerves my regulars with her lack of impulse control.” The barista groaned as she began preparing more pots of coffee.

“I wouldn’t say unnerved myself so much as perplexed.” Spencer clarified as he checked his watch. “Unfortunately, as curious as I am to hear more about it, I need to hurry or I’ll be late for work.” Éclair's expression started to turn sullen, her stormy blue-gray eyes beginning to shimmer with loneliness before suddenly coming to her own epiphany.

“Oh! I know!” she started as she reached over the counter, snatched up a china marker and a cup sleeve, and scrawled her number on it.

“Hold up! You cant be giving you number out to randos in coffee shops!” the barista chided

“ Why not? You do it all the time.” Éclair rebutted tossing the writing implement back on the counter and handing Spencer the inscribed sleeve.

“I can look out for myself. You cant. That’s the difference.”

“Jeez Nikki, you sound more and more like Lurch every time I come in. How am I supposed to make any real friends if I don’t take a chance and trust people sometimes?” Éclair said like an exasperated teen bickering with their mother. “Now, you go before you get in trouble, and call me when your not running late for stuff. k?” she gave Spencer a couple quick dismissing pats against his chest before sauntering back to her table with a wave. Spencer slipped the sleeve over his coffee for safe keeping with a sheepish smile and a bashful blush as he shuffled out of the shop and into the rain.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You didn’t even get the candy canes name!” Nikki exclaimed shaking her head as she wiped the counter down.

“Well, he’ll just have to tell me his name when he calls me. Also why candy cane?” Éclair asked as she took a generous bite of her namesake pastry.

“Tall, skinny, and full of nothing but sugar. Seriously, have you seen how much that guy puts in his coffee? This much!” she answered holding her thumb and index finger up about two inches apart. Just then her co-worker came out from the back area off his break.

“You talking about that tall nerdy guy with the curly hair?” he said interjecting himself into the conversation.

“Yeah, scatter brain here gave him her number, but forgot to get his name.”

“Oh my god! I would have loved to see that! He’s a cutie but he’s so awkward he couldn’t pick up a cold let alone a girl.” He said reveling in the gossip. “What on earth did he say to make you give him you digits?”

“Nothing! That’s the problem!” Nikki cut in before Éclair could respond. “He mentioned an interest in her scrambled eggs but had to go and she just threw her number his way.” She continued with a swirling hand gesture around the side of her head before scribbling time stamps on the coffee pots.

“You fell for him hard didn’t you?” he cooed with a half cocked smile. “Those warm brown eyes, plump pink pout, earthy brown locks you just wanna root through…” he started to trail off as Nikki tossed down the china marker and perched her hand on her hip judgingly.

“Damn it Tyler, don’t encourage her.” Nikki demanded looking Tyler up and down through skeptical glares.

“What? I said he’s a cutie…that is until he opens his mouth and an encyclopedia falls out.” Tyler admitted defensively. “ But really, if she sees something she likes, I say go for it. Climb that tree girl.”

Spencer wasted no time busing himself with paperwork to take his mind off how uncomfortably soaked his converse had gotten in his rush into work. The rest of the team noticed the amusing displeasure he was forced to endure but Morgan noticed the cheerfully graffitied cup sleeve encompassing Spencer’s coffee.

“What do we have here? Either they’ve started handing out hook-ups with your morning brew, or pretty boy here had an interesting commute today.” Morgan teased inspecting the penmanship before displaying it to the rest of the team. A chorus of ooohs slowly rose from JJ and Garcia as Spencer struggled to defend himself from the ribbing he was receiving from all angles.

“Is she nice? Is she pretty? How did you meet? Tell me everything!” Garcia pestered eagerly. A blush washed over Spencer’s face as he desperately tried to find the words to describe to his colleagues the unorthodox interaction he himself was still trying to process.

“She must be real pretty, look how red he’s getting.” JJ noted gesturing to her cheeks.

“ None of you are going to let me get any work done until I tell you, are you?” Spencer said sounding defeated.

“Nope! So spill.” Garcia answered scurrying closer to Spencer’s desk essentially cornering him and preventing any escape. He let out a profound sigh before attempting to recount the event to his teammates.

“So, wait… you’re telling me there was no smooth pick up line, no cheesy collision encounter, no heroic rescue… just…’amnesia, cool. Love to hear more but gotta dash.- no problem here’s my number call me.’?” Derek clarified in disbelief.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Spencer said in a mater of fact tone, taking his coffee back from Derek.

“Are you actually going to call her?” JJ asked from her desk. Spencer thought back to the sad expression on Éclair's face when he first said he had to go. An all to familiar loneliness apparent.

“I think I might.” He answered inspecting the sleeve. “I doubt it will go quite how you all seem to think it will, but it cant possibly go as badly as my last date.” He grimaced slightly remembering his recent encounter with Cat Adams. Derek placed a firm yet reassuring hand on Spencer’s shoulder. Spencer drank the last swig of his coffee before removing the sleeve from the now empty cup, running his thumb over the lightning bolt shaped accent aigu hovering over the E of her name. He could hear the distinct tapping of Rossi's designer shoes as he approached the gossiping congregation.

“ Éclair? That’s an interesting name.” Rossi said peering over Spencer’s shoulder. “Is she French?”

“Uhm…she didn’t sound French. At least, I didn’t notice any accent to indicate that she was.” Spencer replied, recalling the sound of her energetic voice as his brows furrowed together.

“Maybe she’s a stripper and she can show our genius here a right good time.” Derek joked to which warranted a dirty look from Spencer. “Oh come on, kid, she’s named after a cream filled pastry. How much more provocative can you get?”

“Actually the word ‘éclair’ means ‘flash of lightning’. The pastry we know today as éclairs were actually called ‘pain à la duchesse’ until 1850.” Spencer rambled off in his usual scholarly manner. He immediately rooted himself into his work, rapidly flipping through the mountain of files before him.

[highdio]

Hey! I'm not sure if this is the right place to ask this, but, I have been into JoJo for some time now and never really bought any merch for it because I don't have much space! Do you have any recommendations for something to buy for someone like me without the room for something like a figure or poster? Sorry if this isn't the right place to ask!

Great ask and I feel like I don't have as good an answer, so first off, if someone reading this wants to reply with suggestions in the comments/reblogs with suggestions, feel free to add.

Some ideas:

1. Maybe look for merch that serves another purpose at the same time so it doesn’t need its own designated space - like apparel, glassware/dishes, jewelry, etc. There's lots of Jojo goods in these categories.

2. Small merch. Especially if you don't mind chibis, there's some lines of SD Jojo figures like Chara Heroes, World Collectable Figures, tomonui ('microorganism' Jojos), tsums, etc. (fwiw I don't recommend nendoroids as much if space is an issue bc, like larger figures, they've got boxes you'll want to hold onto plus accessories ... unless you can limit to just a couple of them). Plushes seem to take up a lot less space than figures since they don't need a dedicated location for display.

3. Designate a small space to display a couple of Jojo items (I have a bookcase top that's only 11 x 18 inches that I keep a few of the figures I really love on top of).

4. Hanged-up or keychain merch. Basically, stuff you can carry around with you. Again, there's some good Jojo merch in this category.

4. Artbooks and manga volumes. It's usually easier to find room for books than figures/other goods and there's some really good Araki artbooks.

Hope some of this is helpful.

Also fwiw mfc has a ‘goods’ category and while iirc it’s far from complete, it can give you an idea of what’s available for each character. Since he doesn’t have much stuff here’s Diego’s link as an example: https://myfigurecollection.net/entry/41383. You can see in addition to his figures, he’s got a drinking glass (along with Valentine), coaster, t-shirt, and the infamous cell phone holder (also fwiw, some of these type goods are harder to track down but always rewarding when you find).

[procrastination-queenie]

Still with you || JJK

Pairing: scientist!au husband!au Jungkook x scientist!au wife!au reader.

Synopsis: you were going on about with your boring life until you accidentally meet unexpected guests. Was it accidental though?

Warning: slight angst, the reader has a bad relationship with her parents, one sexual reference, kissing, long-haired Jungkook😂, few swear words, I don't think there's anything else.

Word count: 3k

A/N: italics are the reader's future-self talking.

This is loosely based on a tiktok video I saw on Pinterest.

You puffed, kicking a pebble that was by your feet as you waited for your driver to pick you up from school. You honestly wanted nothing other than going back to disappear in your room for the rest of day. Why you may wonder! Well, you got an A- on your latest exam, and you know how your parents are going to react. To them, you either get an A+, or you're a failure. They want you to become a lawyer like them, and take over their law firm after your graduation. Your whole life has been planned out before your birth; an arranged marriage took place between your mother and father, to merge the most famous two law firms in the country. Now, your family owns the biggest law firm in the country leaving you with no options other than having your whole life planned out for you without getting a say in it. What was expected from you is to excel in your studies, go to the most prestigious university then run your family's firm. Life really sucked, and you were only sixteen years old.

"Good afternoon, Miss. Hope I am not late!" Your driver, Richard, said interrupting your thoughts as he opened the door for you.

You shook your head with slumped shoulders, "No Richard, you're always on time," you said getting in the car, but not before you could feel his gaze that was full of pity.

It was nothing new, the whole staff that worked for your family knew what you were going through, and while many may envy you and the position that you hold within the society, the staff knew better than to think in such a superficial way.

"Young lady, I thought we made it clear concerning your grades! An A-? Seriously?" Your birth-giver whom you haven't seen for the last 6 month, slammed your report card onto the counter as she looked down on you as if you were a disgrace to the family. You sighed heavily in response wanting nothing other than to disappear in your room, nothing seemed to satisfy your parents; it's like you only become visible when grades are brought up, other than that they barely notice your existence. "I am sorry, what was that?" She asked hearing your sigh as she raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow at you daring you to defy her. Sometimes you wondered why did she treat you like that, why was there so much hatred in her tone. You would sometimes think that she hated that her life was planned out for her as well, so she takes it out on you.

"Nothing," you answered quietly, wanting to get this one-sided conversation over with. "Thought so. Go to your room. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night," she said, jaw clenching as she pointed towards your room upstairs.

"And when do you ever want to see me!" You muttered quietly under your breath as you made your way towards Your room.

As you neared your room down the hall, you heard voices from inside, making you wonder who could be in your room, seeing that the maids usually clean it after you leave for school in the early morning. Nearing the door, you tried to be as quiet as possible to eavesdrop. "Jungkook be quiet, and stop fussing!" You heard a girl's voice say. Her voice was somehow familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. "Sorry babe, I didn't know you used to live in such a luxurious house," this Jungkook guy, you assumed, answered back chuckling.

What? Who lives here other than your family? And used to live? What does he mean? Who are these people?

You suddenly entered your room to see two people ,just as you suspected, looking back at you as if they were not expecting you at all. "Shit! When did you set the machine, Jungkook?" The girl standing not far away from the guy asked with a clenched jaw. "Ops!" He replied looking back at her. "Seriously, Jungkook? Are you kidding me? That's when I arrive from school! I told you we need to do this before I arrive!" She whined as she hit his arm lightly. "Hey, at least the machine works!" He shrugged biting his bottom lip. "Yeah, you're right," she said calming down a bit.

You kept looking back and forth between them, backing up very slowly to get out of the room and call the police. Apparently, these two are crazy and you need to call for help. "Get back here missy, you are not going anywhere," the girl said looking at you with a glint in her eyes daring you to take one more step away from them. "Look, I don't want you to panic. We are not here to do anything bad. I promise, but knowing how you are, you probably don't believe me, so I am very sorry because of what we are about to do!" She said sincerely making you panic even more. Suddenly the guy came towards you and lifted you over his shoulder. Welp, this is it, you're going to die, your parents are probably going to be mad for the lack of an heir to their firm, but whatever! "W-what are going to do?" You panicked even more hitting this Jungkook guy to let you down. "Don't worry, we are tying you up, so you won't go anywhere and expose us which will lead to many complications and malfunctions that nor you neither do I need to happen. We've worked so hard to reach this point." She said tying you up with your jumping rope which you didn't know how she found since you keep it hidden in your closet. She oddly seemed to know her way around the room which was very confusing, have these people been watching you for some time?

She sighed in relief after she tied you up as she leaned back to sit directly in front of you. "Don't you recognise me?" She asked looking at you smiling as if she's your long lost sister and that knowing who she is will bring you immense joy. You looked her up and down, tilting your head to the side when it suddenly kicks in your head, she looks very familiar, how could you miss it. She looks exactly like you but older. She looked exactly like how you envisioned yourself to be ONLY if you possessed the freedom to do what you want. "Are you... No, it couldn't be!" You said shaking your head. You're hallucinating, you're sure of it. "I know, right? But it's true … I am you, but 10 years older." You looked her up and down, again. She looked totally different from you right now. Carefree is the keyword. She looks like she doesn't have a care in the world, she's also sporting a style that you have always wanted to try. "W-wha- .. h-how is this possible?" If you were panicking a few moments ago, now you were on the verge of freaking out. Have you gone mad? Is this a dream? It must be! I mean your whole life you're struggling to fight your parents and become what you want to be, but this is absolutely NUTS! It must be the stress taking a toll on you, must be!

"Oh, it's a long story," your older self chuckled as if this situation was funny. It kinda is, if you were in her shoe it would probably be funny to you. You looked to your left side, eyeing the guy standing next to you who was looking around your room with so much interest. Your older self inspecting you as you eyed Jungkook, chuckling again silently knowing how curious you are. "Who is he?" You blurted out looking at him in disapproval. Jungkook suddenly stopped looking around and looked at you smiling and waving at you with his left hand. "Oh, hi I am Jungkook," A silver ring on his left hand caught your eyes, you involuntarily looked at your older self, searching her left hand, but you didn't need to look for so long because a diamond ring glinted back at you, as if telling you yup I am here to confirm your doubts. You suddenly gasped as you looked between them, Jungkook flinched in surprise as your older self smirked at you. "You figured it out, didn't you?" she said amusement dancing in her eyes. "He's your husband!" Your face scrunched in disgust. "Our husband," she corrected you leaning back on her palms still looking at you in amusement. "Ew! No!" You said looking at him again with disapproval. "Now, I am offended," Jungkook said feigning sadness, placing his hand over his chest. "Your hair is so long!" You pointed out, tilting your head to the side. "Thank you!" He beamed at you happy that something about him appealed to you. "That wasn't a compliment, don't flatter yourself," you answered back glaring at him. Jungkook pouted looking back at your older self for help "Well, believe it or not, you'll come to love everything about him even if he dyes his hair red," your older self averted your attention from your supposed future husband towards her. She looked at Jungkook with a smirk; however, you could feel the love in her eyes. You could tell that she really loved him as her smirk eased into a soft loving look making you wonder what did Jungkook do to deserve your love.

A few minutes passed as Jungkook and your older self swiped places, Jungkook sat in front of you making sure that you don't try and break free to run away as your older self kept looking for something around your room. "You have so many tattoos, are you a criminal?" You questioned grumpily. You heard your older self chuckle behind you as she looked at the calendar on your desk. Jungkook's big doe eyes, which you suspected were your older self's weakness since it's already making you feel things, looked at you trying to find a suitable answer. "Umm, well I've never done anything illegal," he said. "Intentionally," he added gulping when you kept your piercing gaze upon him. His eyes looked upwards toward the left side which according to what you've read in the science of body language indicated that he was probably remembering the illegal thing that he has done. Sighing, you tried to take it easy upon him since he was starting to get more uncomfortable under your gaze.

"What's your job?" You asked as your legs swayed the chair, you were tied to, right and left. The situation was starting to become really funny to you; you were tied up like you were going to be tortured for some information that you possess; however, it seems like the roles are reversed seeing that you were swaying the chair as you kept interrogating your future husband. He hummed, scratching the side of his neck with his lips pursed and his right eye closed, "I don't know how to tell you this, but we kinda lost our job," he said calmly, big doe eyes staring back at you as a small smile made its way onto his handsome features. "What do you mean WE? you lost your job!" You stopped swaying the chair, an act that showed that you were trying to process the information. "Nah, we as in me and you," he said still looking at you as if he was telling you something totally normal like how the sun sets from the west. "Yeah, we work together and we kinda got fired," your older self said as she stood next to you resting her hand on the back of your chair. "What do you mean kinda got fired? What do you guys do?" You asked looking up at her. "Hmm, … we're scientists." She said looking back down on you. "Wait, what? You're not running our law firm?" You turned the chair suddenly making her remove her hand from the back of it. "Nah, dude we are not going through this bullshit that our parents planned out for us." She said shaking her heading with a pure look of repugnance on her face. "W-why did you get fired, then ?" You asked trying to understand more. "Well, you see me and Jungkook were developing a time machine, you know how many novels predicted the occurrence of such invention," you nodded eagerly for her to continue "the bastards at the lab made fun of us for being delusional because and I quote "this only exists in fiction and there could never be a thing such as time machines" the pricks! Don't they know that before the invention of ships and aeroplanes, writers prophesied these inventions, I mean that's how usually things start. People come up with crazy ideas and we scientists try to bring these ideas into life." Her outrage was evident in her tone. You nodded agreeing with her. "Anyways, that's not for you worry about, at least for the time being," she said walking away from you to continue looking around.

You tried to change the topic, but for some reason, you were not gifted with the ability to be smooth, "What made you marry him?" You fired the question still looking at Jungkook who suddenly smirked at you. "I am pretty good with a sword," he answered, and you could feel his ego inflate. "Oh my, Jungkook please don't!" Your older self whined rolling her head. "What?" Jungkook asked going back to his baby Bambi-eyed self before he started acting cocky. "A sword!" You wondered in a hushed tone to yourself, Jungkook's eyes looking over your face as if he can see your mind putting two and two together, "Oh!" You suddenly realised what he was implying, apparently something sexual. "EEWW!" you shook your head trying not to imagine anything. "Jungkook for God's sake, She's still sixteen, and she doesn't know you yet. Besides you know that I married you because I love you not because of … that," your older self said shaking her head at her husband's immaturity.

"Anyways, it's almost time. If Jungkook set the timer correctly, we should be getting back in a few seconds!" Your older self said from behind you, untying you from your restraints. "What? Back where?" You asked turning to look at her. "What do you mean back where! Back to our present!" She answered looking back at Jungkook. "What about me?"

"What about you?" Jungkook asked confused. Rolling your eyes, not really knowing how you will actually fall in love with the guy later on, "I mean … what am I supposed to do now that I met you?" You asked looking back at your older self, eyes begging her to guide you, tell you what to do, to tell you that everything will turn out just fine. Her features softened as she neared you, "hey listen kiddo, everything will be alright. I can't tell you how it will turn out exactly, but I want you to know that you wouldn't want it any other way, I promise!" She said placing her hand on your shoulder, glancing behind you at Jungkook and smiling softly. You were sure Jungkook was returning her smile, as well. "I don't know what to do...how do I become you?" She tilted her head thinking about it. "Well, I can't tell you what to do because you'll know that, but you can start by resisting," she winked at you before extending her hand to Jungkook who took it. They both backed away from you. You felt them start to fade, but before they vanished completely, Jungkook winked at you in a friendly manner and told you, "see you soon!" You frowned not understanding what he meant by that.

Two days had already passed since you met your future self. In the beginning, you doubted the whole thing happening, but then you found a small sticky note by your desk with neat handwriting saying "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul. ~ William Ernest Henley" which you realised was a quote from your favourite poem, your older self had written it down for you. It was the only proof that what had taken place in your room was real. It was still the beginning of the school day, and you were already bored. "Attention please, everyone!" Your teacher raised her voice over the noisy chatter of the students, bursting your bubble of thoughts and making you look up as your colleagues started to settle down. "I would like you to welcome our new transfer student, Jeon Jungkook," she exclaimed enthusiastically looking around with a hopeful gaze. Jeon Jungkook? What? No way? You suddenly looked up, a shy boy with a shaggy haircut entered the classroom barely looking up, too afraid to make eye contact with anyone. You gasped quietly, that's what Jungkook meant by seeing me soon? He looks nothing like his older self! You thought, inspecting the Jungkook standing by the teacher. He looked up shyly, and the first person he laid eyes on was you. Your heart fluttered when he made eye contact and averted his eyes quickly as he blushed. Oh how cute! You thought smiling slightly. Oh my God, it's actually happening! You were having an internal conversation with yourself now, realising that this was true, you're already harbouring a crush on the boy. "Jungkook, why don't you take a seat next to y/n," your teacher said averting her gaze from Jungkook to you, nodding her head so you'd raise your hand to let him know where you're sitting. "Y/n, would you please show Jungkook around the school later, and help him with what he's missing. If there's anything you're unable to help him with, you can return to me," she said moving already behind her desk and opening her book to start the lesson as Jungkook made his way to the empty desk next to you.

"H-hi, I am Jungkook," he introduced himself minutes after he sat down. "I know, the teacher introduced you at the beginning of class," you said smiling softly at his rosy cheeks that displayed his embarrassment, you chuckled finding him so endearing trying to make a small conversation with you. You turned your head paying attention to what the teacher was explaining. You could feel Jungkook fiddle around in his seat looking around worriedly with his big Bambi eyes that you're sure are now your weakness. You realised that he was nervous because he doesn't have a pen and was embarrassed to ask for an extra one. You silently nudged him and gave him one of yours which made him flash you a grateful smile making you flash him a soft one.

Meanwhile, you and Jungkook were watching your younger-selves interact shyly just as you did ten years ago. "Kookie!" He hummed not really paying you attention since he was eating an ice-cream. You turned your head inspecting his features that didn't really change that much since you first saw him, "you didn't set the machine on that time by mistake, did you?" You asked referring to the time when you asked him about the time settings after your younger self had caught you both snooping around her, well technically your room. You looked at your melting ice-cream, taking a small bite as you could still see Jungkook from your peripheral vision. His movements stopped for a moment, seeing that you smirked as if you caught him in the act. Sensing your sly smile, he shook his head "I don't know what you're talking about!" He feigned dumbness as if you won't be able to tell that he was lying, but who was he fooling? You knew him like the back of your hand. He sighed looking at you in defeat as you raised an eyebrow at him waiting for him to explain himself. "Babe, I know how you were always anxious during that time of your life, and now that we achieved this together and made the whole time machine thing possible; I wanted the first thing for us to do is console your younger-self. I remember how you had a hard time because of your parents," he explained himself all pouty like a child who had done something wrong. However, Jungkook didn't do anything wrong, far from it actually, he wanted nothing but to make you feel less stressed and less unloved. He knows that his younger self has to overcome so many intricacies for you to open up to him. You were a totally different version from who you are right now, and it hurt him to see you doubting yourself or feeling inferior all these years because of your non-existent relationship with your parents. "Thank you, Kookie," you said placing a soft peck on his pouty lips. "You're not mad at me?" He asked, eyes widening, watching you enjoy your ice-cream as you took in your surroundings. You shook your head looking back at him. "I love you," you smiled holding his hand into yours. His worried bunny features eased into a smile and a look full of nothing but adoration for you, "I love you, too." He kissed you passionately while rubbing his thumb over your cheeks. "Finish your ice-cream. We have ten minutes remaining before we go back." You said looking at your digital watch. "What? We don't get to take the ice-cream with us?" He asked, curiosity glossing in his eyes. You shook your head at your husband whom you genuinely believed is a child trapped in the body of a 26 years old man, but as you said: you wouldn't want to have it any other way.

[supersilversleuth]

I Know You Won’t Believe Me (But Sometimes I wish You Would) by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types  

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Roman Sionis, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Whumptober 2021, Angst, Dick Grayson DID NOT fake his Death, I know I’m not really touching on it in this fic, but it’s important I say that, Post-Spyral, Miscommunication, Betrayal, I mean, Perceived Betrayal, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson, SilverWhump, Protective Dick Grayson, injuries

Summary:

“Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

“Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

Dick resisted the urge to laugh, or explain himself. There wasn’t much to explain anyway, not without revealing secrets that he would rather die protecting. Instead, he forced his expression into something more like shock, and resignation, deciding to play this role to the end. He could feel the instincts of manipulation and deception settling back over him like a very familiar blanket. Playing spy for a while had given him the opportunity to hone those skills. If there was any beneficial thing that could be taken away from that whole experience, it was what good he could now do with the abilities he’d enhanced during that time.

OR Dick is forced to pretend to betray Jason in order to protect the Red Hood’s identity

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

Part 5 of 2021 Most Whumperful Time of the Year - Dick Grayson-centric

Language: English Words: 3,462 Chapters: 1/1 

Dick was tracking down a lead in the northern part of Blüdhaven, snooping around in various warehouses. It was the part of Blüdhaven that was closest to Gotham, so really Dick should’ve known better than to think his day would be uneventful.

 As it was, he was surprised by the sight of the Red Hood tying up the exact criminals Dick was looking for.

 Jason had tensed, glancing up, hand going for his gun—when Dick pushed the creaky warehouse door open to take a peek inside—and then, when Jason realized who it was, the hand went away from the gun, and the eyes away from Dick, but the tension remained. Jason continued about, tying the criminals up, studiously ignoring Dick’s presence as he did so.

 “Hood—” Dick started.

 “I’m just finishing up, Officer ,” he said mockingly, “They’re all yours when I’m done.”

 “I—They’re Black Mask’s people, do you have any intel about what they’re doing in my city?” “Not much,” replied Jason, tone clipped. “You?” “I have a little, maybe we could arrange a time to go over it? This case is clearly turning out to be a problem for both of us—”

 “Nope, that’s not how it works,” Jason cut him off, “You haven’t been forgiven for your last f*** up yet. Maybe we can trade information later, if I ever decide to trust you again.” Dick winced, stepping back. “Well, I’ll be out of your hair then, Hood. I’ll have some people come this way to put these criminals back where they belong.” “Where they belong is a big, ugly a** community grave,” Dick heard Jason mutter behind him just as he walked out the door.

-- A few days after the Hood incident, Dick was heading home after a long day of writing reports and studying casefiles. Being a detective was certainly not all excitement 24/7. Most of the time he was sitting around, wishing for more time in the field.

That particular day, he was distracted, thinking about a very complicated case that had been stumping him for longer than he’d like. He should’ve known better than to take that route home, though it probably wouldn’t have mattered—whoever wanted him was professional enough to have all the streets around the precinct covered.

 Ah, chloroform, he didn’t miss it. It’d been a while since he’d last had it pressed against his face. He supposed he was due for a run in with the stuff. The chloroform appeared at the same time as the wrenching of his arms behind his back, and the restraining of his legs. Dick tried not to fight  too  hard, he was still Detective Grayson, a civilian by vigilante standards, afterall. He had to keep up appearances. For that reason, he also pretended to fall unconscious long before he actually did. He’d built up an immunity to the drug of course, but that could only work with him as Nightwing.

 When Dick woke up, he found himself face to face with Black Mask. The man sat behind a desk, with Dick, sitting, bound to a chair in front of him. With a start, Dick realized that Roman must’ve been watching him while he was unconscious. Dick suppressed a shudder. 

 “Wha—Where am I? What do you want?” He asked, pretending to be groggy from waking up.

 “Well, Officer Grayson, you are the Red Hood’s dirty pig informant, so I’m betting there’s a lot I can get out of you.”

Dick resisted the urge to laugh, or explain himself. There wasn’t much to explain anyway, not without revealing secrets that he would rather die protecting. Instead, he forced his expression into something more like shock, and resignation, deciding to play this role to the end. He could feel the instincts of manipulation and deception settling back over him like a very familiar blanket. Playing spy for a while had given him the opportunity to hone those skills. If there was any beneficial thing that could be taken away from that whole experience, it was what good he could now do with the abilities he’d enhanced during that time.

 “I don’t know who the f*** that is,” Dick said, thinking about the actions of several of his coworkers for reference on how to act like a dirty cop.

 “Don’t lie to me,” snarled Roman. “My people know you spoke with him at the last operation of mine that he busted.”

 Ah, so that’s how he knew. One of the thugs must not have been fully unconscious during Dick’s conversation with Jason the other day.

 “Look man, I’m just his source guy sometimes, and he doesn’t even like me very much lately. So I don’t know what to tell you. Just let me go, and we can call it a day.” Dick made himself fidget, as if he was nervous about the threatening crime boss sitting across from him.

 “So what? You don’t have anything for me? Maybe I should just torture you until you die, how about that?”

 “N—No,” Dick made himself stutter, “I—I can still help you...for a price.”

 “Even now, you argue for your checkbook,” Roman chuckled, “The world goes ‘round, and dirty cops never change.”

 “What can I say,” Dick smirked, “The Hood didn’t pay me enough. I’m sure  you’ll be different…”

 Roman smiled at him, a dangerous smile that said he couldn’t wait to use him up and leave his body in a ditch.

 Dick smiled back.

--

Jason got an alert that the alarms at one of his safehouses had been tripped. It wasn’t one of his favorite safehouses or anything—in fact, it was due for a restock, but he knew it would be better to check it out as soon as he could anyway.

 He swung through the air, making his way through Crime Alley to where he knew the safehouse to be. Any intruders in his territory would be dealt with, crappy safehouse or not. 

 He found that much of his security system had been quietly disabled…except for a single, simple sensor. Whoever did this wanted him to come here.

 The door to his safehouse was ajar, and Jason carefully pushed it open, peering through the crack.

 His lights were on, and there were the sounds of ransacking and breaking glass.

 Jason grabbed the guns from his hips, and slammed open the door.

 There stood Dick, out of uniform, surrounded by several of Black Mask‘s people. 

 Jason snarled at the sight, thoughts of the man’s betrayal swirling through his mind. 

 Dick’s eyes widened, shooting a pleading look at him as if trying to convey something. Jason ignored it in his anger.

 “Let’s go! He’s here!” yelled Dick.

 “Traitor.” He growled darkly.

 Something flickered in the traitor’s expression, before smoothing out as if it had never been there.

 Jason didn’t think. He just lifted his guns, and fired.

 Unfortunately, they were rubber bullets, and he’s pretty sure he only managed to clip the lying b****** in the leg.

 He did manage to take down at least three of the others before the rest escaped quickly through the window.

--

“So, I guess Hoodie really isn’t on your side after all,” said Roman, pacing.

“I—I don’t understand what happened,” Dick sputtered, feigning fear, “I disabled all of his security, he wasn’t supposed to show.”

 “That’s because I had one of my people purposely sabotage you. I needed to make sure you weren’t still on his side. This,” he said, putting his hand on Dick’s leg where the bullet hit him, “is the proof I was looking for.” He pressed down, Dick gasped as if in pain. It really didn’t feel nice.

 “W—What?” He said in indignation, “Of course I’m on your side, that guy hates me.”

 “So I’m told.” Roman said, uncaring. He dug his fingers in.

 “Stop!” Dick strained against the ropes binding his hands behind the chair.

 The man let up, briefly, “You got the package I sent you to get?” 

 He was referring to the fake intel Dick had promised was stashed in Hood’s safehouse, intel that he had planted while no one was looking. The moment Roman plugged that thing in, Oracle would have complete access to all of the crime boss’s servers. “Yes, of course! Don’t forget to plug it into a high powered computer, I’m sure it’ll require a lot of decryption…”

 Roman waved his hand, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, my people have it covered.”

 “I’d like my payment now,” Dick said, glaring at him.

 The man grinned malevolently, “You’ll get your payment, when I let you go and the Hood goes after you. The people he captured have  quite  the story to tell.” 

 Dick slid a look of fear onto his face.

--

Jason didn't even give him the chance to explain.

Not that Dick was surprised about this, of course, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

Roman had released him onto Gotham's streets, and sent several of his people to tail him.  Dick of course, was not supposed to know about that particular detail, but it's not like the low-level thugs had any actual expertise when it came to anything, least of all properly tailing a person.

Ah, so this was one more test, to confirm that he was truly against the Hood, before Roman dared plug in the USB. So it was best that Jason's first reaction upon seeing him was to lash out anyway, and Dick didn't even get a moment to get a word in before Hood was slamming him into the ground.

Well, it seemed these days the only reliable fact was that his family no longer trusted him. It was a good thing he needed Jason to beat him up for the operation, then. Internally, Dick sighed, he wished it didn't have to be like this. He hated lying, detested spying, but he'd learned long ago that sometimes there's no time for debate, and often the situation called for the best solution, not necessarily a good one.

Jason always acted on his emotions, it was something about him that never changed. It was reliable qualities like that, that Dick had been trained to notice, to exploit when needed. Dick did what he had to do, Jason did what he wanted to do. Many times, Dick had had to shoulder the burden of doing what was needed, even if it hurt those around him. He would gladly carry these responsibilities for the rest of his life, if only his siblings didn't have to, if only his family  lived.

And so, Officer Grayson fought with the Red Hood in a back alleyway as the man spewed curses about him and how he couldn't trust someone who'd betray him just to meet their own ends and not even think to tell him about the undercover op—

Dick, of course, was still being watched. So he fought like a random inexperienced police officer, not like Nightwing, professional vigilante. 

Jason didn't seem to notice. 

"Is this the new you then? Huh? You stab us in the back at every chance you get, all for a supposed “mission”? Is this Dick the spy then? Is that who you are now?"

Dick dodged a fist, got kicked in the knee.  It’s probably just the pit rage,  he reminded himself,  another thing I can count on.

"You know, I didn't think you of all people would pull something like this the first time, I don't know why I didn't see it with this one, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now."

Jason punched him in the stomach, causing him to sink further to the ground.

"I don't even know if I'd grieve again, if I found out you were dead. How would I know it wasn't just another lie that you failed to mention to me?"

Dick was just glad his tails were too far away to hear what Jason was saying.

"Do you have any idea what Black Mask is capable of? Have you  forgotten  who the f*** he  is  ? You can't just go undercover to work with him against  me, without telling me!"

His little brother sounded so upset, Dick only wished he had time to explain.

"Whatever happened to communication? Is that a foreign concept to you  spies? And here I thought we were actually family."

Jason headbutted him right in the face, breaking what Dick was pretty sure was his nose. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood on his face, flowing over his lips, past his chin to drip to the ground. Dick's vision blurred, and he collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself, he had to play it up, afterall. Even though the wounds inflicted were mostly just surface ones. They had an audience, and Dick could not fail to perform.

Above him, Jason scoffed, as if he could see through Dick's pretending. Still though, DIck could see his hands shaking, could see as the pent up energy within his little brother's body drained, tension leaving his shoulders. In a moment, Jason was gone, and Dick closed his eyes, giving into the exhaustion of having had to pretend to be someone he wasn't under very stressful circumstances for the past few days. It was alright, nothing...Dick...couldn't handle...

--

Jason felt drained. He hadn't felt that angry since well...the last time Goldie had pulled something like this.

The feeling of Dick’s face against his fist was quite familiar by this point. Each time he’d done it blurred together, echoing in his mind as green tinted his vision.

Jason made it back to one of his safehouses, somehow. He wasn’t sure when he got there, or how, but when he finally came back to himself, it was to the sight of a familiar kitchenette.

He felt too restless to sleep, but too exhausted to do anything productive at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to go out as Red Hood. In this state, he was a danger to anyone around him.

Jason’s mind raced, even as his body collapsed on the couch. He turned the tv on, letting himself get lost in some random sitcom.

He needed to calm down, probably do something like think things through. Though Jason knew that he was most likely going to just go about his day tomorrow, as if today hadn’t happened.

Always running away, still that same self-preserving street kid who only knew how to survive. Well, it’d worked for him so far, minus the dying part of course.

Hours later, technically into the next morning, Jason’s comm beeped. What could Barbie possibly want at this time of morning? Not even villains were awake at 6:00am, usually this hour was sacred.

“Hood?”

Well, apparently not anymore.

Sighing, Jason brought his finger to his ear, “Yeah? How’d you know I was awake?”

“Unimportant,” she said, all business, “I need you to check on Nightwing for me.”

Jason’s mind blanked, and then he scoffed, “You kidding me?” His voice was shaky. “What the f*** did he do this time?”

Oracle had no time for overly dramatic interbat-relations.

“A few hours ago, Black Mask’s servers went online, Dick’s code caught my attention. I was able to get every little bit of data ever entered into one of Mask’s computers. It was more than we’ve been able to get from him in years. Dick’s work really was genius. I tried to get in contact with him, but his trackers aren’t working, his phone’s out of the picture, and I can’t find him on any camera. I’m worried he went undercover without a backup plan for when Mask figured it out.”

Jason attempted unsuccessfully to tamp down his feelings of guilt and concern.

“Alright O, I’m on it.” He croaked, already heading out the door.

Adrenaline flowed through his veins, spurring him on. 

His earlier hate had fled, leaving behind nothing but cold determination. He was angry at his brother, sure, but he didn’t want the guy to  die… right?

And if what Oracle said was true, then it just might have been worth it for Dick to do what he did, just maybe.

Jason headed to where he’d last seen Dick. 

He found him about a block away from where they’d fought, being tortured in a rundown warehouse.

If it weren’t for the screams, Jason probably would have passed it and not even known.

Black Mask stood over Dick, who was bound to a table. Goldie was missing his shirt, and his torso was littered with burns and bruises. His feet were bare too, Roman was in the process of whipping them.

For the second time in twenty four hours, Jason felt the anger rise and the pit take over. 

The emotion was stronger this time, more powerful, Jason thought distantly. 

There were about thirty thugs surrounding Roman, guarding the man’s sadistic torture session.

Jason drew his guns, and tried not to think about the last time he’d used them to pistol whip Dickie across the face.

The first five thugs went down quickly, the next ten following right behind them. Jason reloaded. Some part of his subconscious aimed for kneecaps and non-lethal areas. The pit aimed for whatever was convenient. Nevertheless, if Jason had been paying attention, he’d have noticed that not one of his bullets missed a target.

By the time he’d made his way through all thirty of them, he had two loaded guns left, though they weren’t the same ones he’d started out with.

Roman had fled sometime during the action, like the coward he was. Jason was halfway out the door to find him when he heard a sound from behind him.

It was Dick.

Jason startled, hurrying towards his brother's side. The anger once again drained from his body.

Dick’s eyes were hazy and unfocused, they looked at him without seeing. But as Jason neared, something foreign came into them: fear.

Jason dropped his guns on the floor, trying not to think about how he’d never seen Dick look at him like that.

He bent to untie his brother from the table, and Dick flinched away from him, unintelligible noises stumbling out of his throat.

“Shh, Dickie, it’s alright.” Jason said frantically, “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

He finished removing the last of the restraints just as Dick passed out from what was likely incredible pain.

--

Jason efficiently cleaned and bandaged his brother’s wounds, feeling numb. Dick’s body was covered in scars, the recent--but not too recent ones were what caught his attention. Jason didn’t want to think about when Dick must’ve gotten them.

Instead, Jason thought about something that had been bothering him before, little details here and there that he had missed. Namely: Dick hadn't been wearing his Nightwing suit during all of their interactions in the past few days. In fact, he'd been dressed quite like a detective.

 It dawned on Jason in a moment, and he felt horrified. Dick had been a detective that day in the warehouse with Black Mask's people. Back when this all started. 

 Jason's mind was racing when Dick groaned, eyes cracking open, "Wha—Jay?"

 "Yeah, it's me Dickie. I'm here."

 "What—What happened?"

 Jason sighed, "What do you remember?"

 Dick's brows furrowed in thought, "I...I had to go undercover..."

 "Why didn't you tell me?" Jason asked.

 Recognition flashed in his brother's eyes, He seemed to be getting his energy back.

 "There was no time, Roman kidnapped me, I had to play along."

 "But—there had to have been some time you could have explained the situation to me…"

 "Would you believe me if I had?" Dick's gaze was piercing.

 “I—yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Jason paused, “Were you going to tell me that you went undercover to save my a**? Or were you just going to keep letting me hate you?”

 Dick was silent.

 Jason continued, “I mean, sure. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed you. But maybe I would have. You weren’t even going to give me the choice.” Something occurred to him then. “We didn’t give you the chance to explain about Spyral…was that situation similar to this?” 

 Dick sighed, “I’m not up for having this conversation right now. Maybe later, after I wake up.”

 He burrowed further into the couch, closing his eyes.

 “One more thing,” Jason said, unwilling to let it end just like that. “Those scars…”

 Dick’s smile was bitter and darkly amused, “You didn’t think playing spy was all fun and games, did you? Everyone was out to get me. See here?” Dick half-heartedly lifted up his arm, “A cannibal took a chunk out of it. Congratulations, you’re the first to notice.”

 “I’m sorry,” Jason murmured to him, long after he’d fallen asleep. 

 The two words were long overdue.

[theultimatefanficwriter]

What about Mondo protecting his gf from a rival gang?? I’m livin for protective Mondo™️ rn hahaha ty!!!

Oh hell YES! Dude, this prompt is awesome! Thank you so much for it! I love protective Mondo!

Trigger Warning: Attempted Sexual Assault

Not Yours-Mondo Oowada x Reader

You paced your apartment, chewing worriedly on your nails. You glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was nearly past midnight. “Where is he?” You muttered to yourself. “He should be home by now.”

Terrible thoughts began crossing your mind as you imagined what could have happened to your boyfriend, Mondo Oowada. He was the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, so danger wasn’t new to him. But he usually wasn’t out this late. At least not without telling you.

Just as you were about to call him, you heard the door knob turn. Your gaze shot over to the door and waited anxiously as it opened. You let out a relieved breath as you saw Mondo. You ran over to him and hugged him. ��Mondo! You’re ok!” You exclaimed.

He chuckled and hugged you back. “Of course I’m alright, baby.” He assured you.

You pulled away after a moment and glared at him. “What do you mean, ‘Of course I’m alright’? You were gone for hours longer than normal! And you didnt text me! I thought something had happened to you!”

Mondo chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, right. Sorry, Y/N. We were staking out the rival gang. We think they’re making a move on our terf.”

You crossed your arms. “And you couldn’t send me a quick text to let me know?! I thought you were dead!”

Mondo rolled his eyes. “Babe, nothing can hurt me, let alone kill me. I’m fine, aren’t I?” He walked past you, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it onto the couch.

You clenched your fists and went after him. “Don’t just walk away from me, dickhead!” You exclaimed. “You aren’t fucking invincible! You might be fine now, but what if next time you aren’t? Imagine what that’ll do to me!”

“That won’t happen, Y/N.” The gang leader said bluntly, standing beside the couch with his arms crossed. “I’d never let it.”

You groaned in annoyance. “You can’t control everything, Mondo! Some things are out of your control!”

“And they’re in yours?!” He snapped, spinning around to glare at you. “What fucking use would texting you do?! So you’ll know where to find my God damn corpse?! Jesus, Y/N, just fucking drop it! Even if I do get killed out there, there’s nothing you can do about it, so just get over it!”

Your eyes widened, and you stared at him for a while as tears filled your eyes. “Get...get over it?” You whispered. “How would I be able to just...get over it if you died? Would you be able to get over it if I was killed? ...Do you care about me that little?” The tears began to fall faster.

Mondo’s angry face softened. “Ah, shit. Y/N...I-I didn’t mean-” He reached a hand out towards you, but you turned around and ran out of the apartment, your boyfriend calling your name as you did.

You ran a good distance from the apartment building before you leaned against a wall and began crying into your hands. You stayed that way for a long time.

Eventually you had calmed down enough and you thought about the situation again with a clearer head. You loved Mondo so much. You were always worried for his safety whenever he went out. The fact that he didn’t worry angered you. What if he got reckless, and got himself hurt? Or worse? He was the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader, so you knew he was a professional at this sort of thing, but still. With his hotheadedness he could easily get into a situation he couldn’t get out of.

On the other hand, maybe you shouldn’t have said what you did. You knew he cared about you, and if you died he would most likely blame himself for it like he did with his brother. And he did have a point. You wouldn’t be able to do anything in time even if he did text you. You just wanted to make sure he was alright, but maybe you were a bit too overbearing about it.

You let out a sigh and looked around. It suddenly hit you what you did. You had ran outside.

Alone.

At night.

On streets known for criminal activity.

What the hell were you thinking?

You clung tightly to yourself as you began hurrying back to your apartment.

“Hello there, gorgeous~”

You stopped dead at the voice, and slowly turned around. There you saw a group of men approaching you. You swallowed. “Um...H-hello?” You replied nervously.

They chuckled. The one in front walked closer to you; a tall, muscular man with short brown hair and blue eyes. The rest of his crew stayed back as he continued to approach you, forcing you to back up until you hit a wall. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone, hm?~” He asked, placing his right hand against the wall beside your head.

You looked up at the man, shivering at his smirk. “Uh, I was just walking home...” You answered quietly. “So, if you’ll excuse me...” You moved to the left, trying to get away from him.

But he put a stop to that, slamming his left hand against the wall, trapping you between it and him. He chuckled lowly. “Hey now, there’s no rush. Come on, stay a while.”

You swallowed anxiously, fear slowly taking over. “N-no thanks. My b-boyfriend is waiting for me.”

The man smirked and snickered. “Oh, I know your boyfriend, doll. Mondo and us have a bit of...history.”

It was then you noticed the jackets they were wearing. The emblem on the front was of a dragon breathing fire that then engulfed itself. You paled. “You...you’re the Blazing Dragons...” You whispered.

The leader chuckled. “You got it, babe. And we know all about you. You’re Mondo’s little sweetheart.” He took one of his hands and grabbed your chin roughly. “Dunno how that muscle head got a beauty like you, though.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “F-fuck off.” You snapped at him. You were trying to appear brave, even though you were terrified.

It must’ve been obvious, because the man in front of you smirked and shook his head. “You’re cute, doll.” He told you, before releasing your chin and slapping you harshly across the face.

You let out a surprised yelp and fell to the ground, reaching up to hold your cheek. You barely had any time to react before you were pulled up by your hair and thrown into the wall, causing you to let out another pained cry.

“Don’t talk back to me.” He snarled, pulling your head forward a bit then slammed it against the wall. He leaned in close to your face. “You got that, bitch?”

You were close to tears from both pain and fear. You nodded. “Y-yes. P-please dont h-hurt me...”

The man holding onto you’s intimidating snarl slowly turned into a smirk. He released your hair and instead went back to pinning you to the wall. “See? Aren’t things much better when you cooperate?”

You let out a soft whimper. “Please let me go.” You begged.

The leader chuckled lowly. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s nothin’ personal, but we gotta leave a message to Mondo.” He took one of his hands and slowly brought it down to-

No.

Your eyes widened and you pushed at his chest. “No! Stop!” You exclaimed, trying to get away from him. You didnt get very far before the leader grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards him.

“Get back here, you skank!” He hissed. He looked over to his gang members and pushed you towards one of them. “Hold the bitch!”

You began to hyperventilate as your arms were grabbed by one of the men. The leader began walking slowly towards you with a sinister grin on his face as the sound of a motorcycle engine approached.

Wait....a motorcycle?

You watched as the leader got a metal pipe to the shoulder, causing him to stumble back as the motorcycle engine got quieter.

You saw all of the Blazing Dragon members began looking around frantically. The sound of the motorcycle got louder again, and this time you could see who was driving it.

Mondo.

You smiled in relief as he jumped off of it and immediately whacked the goon holding you with the pipe. As that one fell down and you scurried to the side and out of the way, one of the other members jumped onto your boyfriend, holding onto his shoulder. Another took a bat and hit him in the side causing Mondo to wince. Anger filled his eyes, and he threw himself at a building, colliding the man on him with the wall and knocking him out.

Mondo turned to face the one that had hit him. He growled at the man and swung the pipe at his head. The guy managed to avoid it at the last second. Mondo snarled at that, a vein popping from his forehead as he rushed the guy. The goon’s eyes widened as the Crazy Diamond leader tackled him to the ground, then punched him several times in the face until he had passed out.

About this time, the leader had gotten up. Mondo noticed this, and he slowly turned to face him. He gripped the metal pipe tightly, his breathing heavy, his teeth clenched, and his face red from anger as he stalked over to the man.

The leader of the Blazing Dragons reached for one of the bats dropped from his dropped men, but Mondo reached him before he could and kicked his knee, causing him to kneel. Your boyfriend then raised the pipe and brought it down onto the man’s shoulder, making the man scream out in pain. Mondo then bashed him in the side, then the stomach, then the back when he fell forward from the pain.

He raised the pipe again to bash his head, but you grabbed his arm. “Mondo.” You called his named softly. “Don’t.”

He stopped, and looked down to you, then at the leader, who was breathing shallowly. Your boyfriend paused a moment before sighing and tossing the pipe to the side. He then turned to you and immediately pulled you into a hug. “Babe! Oh, God, I was so worried!” He exclaimed, holding you close. “I felt like such a fucking ass, so I was gonna apologize when you got home, but you were gone for so long I got worried, so I went looking for you and...” He trailed off. “They....they didn’t do anything to ya....did they?”

You bit your lip. “The leader slapped me...really hard. And slammed me against the wall. And they were going to do worse...but you got here in time.”

Mondo let out a low growl. “Those fucking bastards.” He snarled. He cupped your face gently. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, baby. Alright?”

You smiled softly and nodded. “I know, Mondo. I love you so much. I’m sorry for the fight earlier.”

He chuckled and shook his head before kissing your forehead. “I don’t give a fuck about that. All I care about is you’re safe.” He gently took your hand. “Now come on. Let’s go back home.”

You giggled and nodded, following Mondo back to his motorcycle. As the two of you got on it, you wrapped your arms around his middle. You leaned your head against his back and closed your eyes, feeling safe knowing you had him to always protect you.

Oh boy this prompt gave me a hard time! I liked it a lot, but I went through like three or four different ideas before I got one I was mostly alright with, that’s why its not as long as I usually make them. So I really hope you like it. If you don’t, I’m really sorry. I tried. Also, I’m sorry I’m pretty bad at fight scenes. I tried!

[jmnjmnjmn]

Eternal beings | Chapter 8

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Key words: supernatural, vampire.

Word count: around 3,500

Warnings: swearing,  sadness, jealousy, mentions of murder

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Masterlist

I’m also working ona a Taehyung thing right now so please bear with my posting schedule...

You opened your eyes at the abrasive sound of your alarm. Feeling as if you haven’t slept a minute last night you sat up on the bed and looked out the window. The morning was foggy, the light drizzle visible in the rising sun. You looked down onto the street looking for Jungkook, but no one was there. It was half past five, still too early for him to be waiting for you outside. Nonetheless the prospect of him being out there - somewhere, anywhere, coming your way - made you feel uneasy. You picked yourself up from the bed lazily and headed for the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face before applying some makeup. As you approached your bedroom’s door you stumbled over something on the floor. Looking down you noticed the pile of clothes you angrily threw and kicked to the ground last night. The memory of it made you feel even more shitty. Because of your frustration with Jungkook you blew up on Taehyung who wasn’t at fault here at all. You made a mental note to yourself to make it up to him today and went on with your morning routine more quietly than ever not to wake him or his dog.

As you applied your makeup, did your hair and packed your bag you looked out the window onto the street every now and then to make sure Jungkook’s not standing there, waiting for you. His absence made you anxious. It was nearing six when you finally walked downstairs to eat a quick breakfast before heading out. You decided on one of the “1 minute oatmeal” mixes Taehyung had in his kitchen cabinet. You poured hot water over the dusty mixture and scrunched your nose at the strange smell, hoping it looked and smelled worse than it tasted. With the steaming bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other you once again walked to one of the windows on the front of the house. There wasn’t even a stray cat on the street. You stood by that window eating the oatmeal and slowly realising that this is not your kind of breakfast.

“Maybe the reason Taehyung has so many of these is that he doesn’t want to eat them, because they suck so bad…” You said to yourself as you were quickly washing up the dishes after yourself. You dried your hands and rushed to the door, not wanting to be late for work.

As you were tying your sneakers you felt your stomach tighten. You were nervous about what, or rather who, you would see waiting for you outside. You took one more deep breath before opening the door. To your surprise no one was there. The emptiness of Taehyung’s driveway didn’t make you feel any less nervous. You turned your back to the street to lock the door behind yourself and as you pulled the key out of the lock you heard the heavy iron handle on Taehyung’s home’s gate squeak.

“Here we go…” You muttered under your breath and turned around. Jungkook was walking through the gate with his eyes focused on the handle he was gripping. He looked up at you and gave you a half smile.

“Hey.” He mouthed quietly, as though he could wake up the neighbourhood if he spoke with his full voice. You caught yourself starting to become warm inside and quietly told yourself in your mind not to fall for his tricks and do that.

The two of you walked silently all the way to the station. You kept your hands in your pockets clenched in fists not only to protect them from the strange cold of today's morning, but also because of your once again raising frustration. You didn’t know how you should or shouldn’t feel about this whole ordeal with Jungkook. Both him and Yoongi told you yesterday that they were vampires and you couldn’t wrap your head around it. The only way to make it make sense was to believe they’re both insane or ask them for a more detailed explanation. The first option appealed to you the most.

As you stood on the station awaiting your train Jungkook paced around next to you humming something quietly. You glanced at him and almost smiled, but stopped yourself quickly before anyone could see. You avrted your eyes back to the tracks, furrowing your brows.

Usually there were a couple of empty seats on the train at this time, but today it was more crowded so you stopped a couple of steps from the door and grabbed onto a bar for stability. As you pulled out your phone to check the time you felt a weight come onto your shoulder. You looked towards it and saw Jungkook holding onto the sleeve of your jacket. This time you didn’t hold back the smile remembering how you and your friends always grabbed onto each other’s bags, shoulders and jackets to keep balance on a moving bus or train.

You felt silly. He seemed so innocent yet… You couldn’t just forget about what he said he did to (Victim’s name). He was a murderer. He admitted it. The fact that you didn’t call the police immediately after meeting him for the first time after that faithfull night on Third made you no better than him. There was no excuse you could come up with for withholding such important information in an official FBI investigation. You were a criminal. Just like Jungkook. You might have not murdered anyone, but you lied and covered for him. You looked down at your phone with tremendous guilt in your heart. There were so many times you could have called the police, so many opportunities, that you didn’t take, to come clean and make this mess go away.

“Central station.” A robotic female voice announced from the train speakers. You picked up your gaze realising it’s your stop and made your way to the opening door with Jungkook following closely behind.

You walked together, side by side, still in total silence. As you were not more than ten meters from the shop’s doog Jungkook slowed down his pace and stopped. You automatically did the same which made you feel really dumb. He was the one following you to work. You should’ve kept walking and left him behind to get rid of him at least for a moment, but you didn’t and answering the question of “why?” seemed like too hard of a task for the moment.

“What time do you finish your shift?” He asked, stepping in front of you.

“E- Wait, no.” You barely managed to refrain yourself from telling him what he wanted to know. “ Why do you want to know?” You answered his question with your own already knowing what he’ll say.

“I want to pick you up and walk you home.” You exhaled loudly, looking away and giving your head a small shake.

“Don’t.” You replied after a moment, your gaze still resting somewhere far off in the street.

“Come on, (Y/N).” Jungkook said in a teasing manner, putting his hands in his jeans pockets.

“I don’t need a shadow.” You finally managed to look at him again. Your eyes travelled from his chin to his lips and up to his eyes which were a dark shade of brown right now. “Especially from a guy like you.” You added and his smile widened.

“Like me?” He chuckled referring to your altercation from last night.

“Don’t start.” You muttered, feeling your stomach turning at the thought of hearing about vampires again.

“Alright, alright. But just so you know I was asking to be polite.” He said, taking a step back. “I already know your schedule. I’ll be here ten to eleven.” Your eyebrows travelled up involuntarily at his statement. “Have a good day at work, (Y/N).” He added taking another step back still facing you. With his next step he turned around, shooting you a smirk.

Confused about how he knew your work hours you walked into the shop and headed straight for the door marked with a “staff only” sign. Your wonderment was cut short as you set your eyes on the only other person in the break room.

“Jimin.” You said your coworker's name, greeting him as you closed the door behind yourself. He smiled up at you from his phone and went back to typing something up on the screen rapidly. “Did you by any chance talk to Jungkook recently?” You asked him, setting your bag down on the old couch. He glanced up at you from his phone again with his eyebrows raised. Your question must have caught his attention, because he quickly locked his phone and put it in his jeans backpocket.

“Yeah. We talked.” He answered with a cheeky smile you didn’t appreciate. “If he only knew!” You called out in your head.

“And did you talk about me?” You proceeded with the questions.

“We did.” Jimin put his arms across his chest and his grin grew wider.

“Perhaps about my work schedule?” Jimin only smiled at you without a word, but it was enough of an answer. “Jimin, why?” You sighed, not knowing how to knock it out of his head that you were interested in Jungkook.

“I did you a favour. Without me you would never end up seeing him.” You put your palm on your forehead feeling a headache forming under there and rubbed it slowly. “Oh, don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He snickered.

“Did it ever cross your mind that I might not want to see him?” You tried to explain it to him slowly so that you didn’t slip and say something you didn’t mean to say to him. Like for example: Your crazy boyfriend claims he and his friend are vampires.

“(Y/N), you quit being so pessimistic.” He said walking up to you and hugged you from the side. “Jungkook is nothing like your previous crushes and boyfriends you told me about.” Jimin rubbed your shoulder trying to comfort you, but all you could feel right now was helpless and misunderstood. “He’s a good guy.” You exhaled a soft chuckle at his statement. “There’s nothing weird about him, no obsessions or questionable past. Yoongi can vouch for him.” You couldn’t stop a grin forming on your face and looked up at Jimin.

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.” He frowned and thought for a moment before speaking again.

“Well, I know you had a fight last night-” You didn’t let him finish and pulled out  from under his arm. How is it that everyone knows everything about you and yet you are clueless about everything that is going on?

“Wha- Who told you- Taehyung? That-” You struggled to for a proper sentence and before you could succeed Jimin cut you off.

“Don’t be angry with him.” He defended Taehyung. “He just wants the best for you. Like me.” He added with a smile. You couldn’t get angry with him. Yes he meddled and gossiped, but he didn’t know half of what you knew and he didn’t mean to do any wrong.

“I know Jimin, but I think I know best what’s best for me.” You said, rubbing your forehead again to make the impending headache go away. “Trust me and let me make my own decisions, okay?” Jimin put his arms across his chest again, looking at you with sympathy in his eyes. “I’ll handle this whole Jungkook deal myself without you, Taehyung or Yoongi getting involved.” You said, hoping that you just put an end to this discussion.

“About Yoongi.” Jimin perked up and you felt your shoulders drop a little. “He tells me you went to him asking all sorts of questions about your admirer-” 

“Come on!” You cut him off, hearing more than enough. “I just told you not to meddle in this!” Now you had your arms in a knot across your chest as well. “Please, Jimin. Just- Just let me do this at my own pace, okay?” You asked him sincerely.

“Okay, okay.” He sighed. “But remember everything you tell Jungkook he will tell Yoongi and Yoongi will tell me.” As he listed this chain of communication a cheeky smile formed on his face once again.

“God damnit, Jimin.” You laughed and pushed his shoulder.

“I’m kidding.” He chuckled and the two of you, still bickering, went out of the break room to go on with today's workload.

-

Towards the end of your shift you were on checkout duty, googling out all the information about the murder case from last weekend when a ridiculous thought came to your mind. You opened a new tab in the internet app on your phone and  let your thumb hover over the letter “v”, still hesitant whether you should go down this rabbit whole. You were deep in thought when Jimin called your name simultaneously bringing you back to reality. “One that doesn’t include vampires.” You thought hopefully.

“(Y/N).” Before he could say anything more you realised you were covered in goosebumps. You looked at the thermometer on the window to check the room's temperature, but as you turned your gaze towards it you noticed the real reason behind your body’s odd behaviour. “Your boyfriend’s here.” Jimin said, looking through the glass door with a box of blue Fanta in his arms.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You muttered. Jungkook was in fact out there like he promised, walking towards the shop in long strides. He noticed you eying him through the window and waved in your direction with a smile.

“Ten to eleven, (Y/N).” He greeted you as he walked through the shop’s door, ringing the small bell hanging over it. “Hey, Jimin.” He greeted your coworker who still stood by the door with the box of beverages he was supposed to set up on a shelf in the front. “Are you ready?” He asked you.

“It’s ten to eleven. I still have ten more minutes of work to do.” You said emphasizing the word “ten” each time, reluctant to go anywhere with him. Jungkook opened his mouth, but before he could say a word Jimin cut in.

“You can go. I’ll finish up here, (Y/N).” He smiled sweetly at you and Jungkook, but you knew what was really hiding under that expression. “Go on, get your things.” He urged you, but you didn’t move an inch from behind the register. The two of you stood in your places, Jimin with the box of Fanta in his arms and you with your palms resting on the counter, looking each other in the eyes trying to communicate with them and without speaking up.

“I’ll wait. It’s just ten minutes.” Jungkook finally said, glancing between the two of you and breaking the silence. He leaned on the counter and pulled his phone out to occupy himself with.

You sighed and hoped for a customer to come in or something so that those ten minutes really seemed like work and not just you trying to stick it to Jimin and Jungkook. Unfortunately for you no one came in. As the ten minutes were quickly coming to an end you decided to collect your things and get going. You reached under the counter to unplug your phone’s charger when the volume on the worn-out TV above your head increased. When you got up from under the counter you saw Jimin with the remote in his hand, the Fanta box empty under his arm.

“Look, (Y/N). It’s your case.” He said pointing to the screen and turning the volume up even higher. You looked at the screen terrified. 

“Your case?” Jungkook asked from behind you without even a bit of curiosity in his voice. You didn’t have to face him to see the expression he had on his face, you knew he had that smug cocky smile all over it.

“She’s a witness.” Jimin explained to him, clueless of the fact he just outed you as a rat to the killer you were testifying against to the police.You felt your cheeks turn red, but decided to try to play it cool.

“Old news.” You shot Jimin down, trying to talk over the news anchor who was now describing in detail how (Victim’s name) was found that faithfull night you saw Jungkook for the first time. “Nothing really came out of my statement.” You said turning to face the two guys. “I didn’t see or hear much to be honest.” You babbled with your voice being a little higher pitched than usual from the nerves as rolled up your charger.

“Well, you did see the guy.” Jimin said, putting the remote down on the counter. Jungkook raised his brow at you and slowly put his arms across his chest, getting ready to enjoy the show of Jimin and you spitting arguments back and forth.

“It was dark.” You said.

“You gave a description to a sketch artist.” He answered.

“I didn’t have my glasses on.” You kept explaining.

“You told me you would definitely recognize him if you saw him on the street.” 

“After giving it more thought I don't really think I could.”

“You said he was kinda hot.”

“Didn’t!” You yelled and felt yourself burning up.

“Alright, that I made up.” Jimin laughed.

“I’m going home.” You said grabbing the remote and turning the TV off which earned you a resigned moan from Jimin. “I’ve got online classes to attend.” You added slipping out from behind the counter and walking towards the back room.

“You two go. I’ll wait for our switch. Who is late. Again.” You heard Jimin complain in a playful tone behind your back.

You rested your back on the closed door of the back room and sighed deeply. As you relaxed your shoulders you began feeling how tense they were for the past ten minutes or so since Jungkook walked into the shop. You took off your name tag slowly and put it on the pin board on the wall feeling the soreness in each muscle in your arms. You stuffed your jacket into your bag and threw it over your shoulder. As you rested your sweaty palm on the cold door handle you stopped for a second to make the impossible wish of not seeing Jungkook when you step out onto the shop. You exhaled slowly to prepare yourself to be let down and pushed the door open.

“Ready?” He asked sweetly as you approached the front door and also him. You noticed Jimin trying to hide a cheeky smile as he stood behind the checkout.

“Bye, Jimin.” You said, knowing already he must have told Jungkook something you asked him not to. Deciding not to answer him and just kept walking all the way to the door. Jungkook bid his farewell to your coworker as well and swiftly turned as you passed him by.

Together you walked down the street. Shoulder to shoulder. You were about to take the turn right to the train station when Jungkook spoke up.

“Here.” You heard a beeping sound and you averted your eyes to where it came from. Jungkook walked towards a black car parked on the sidewalk leaving you a couple of steps behind as you stood in place unsure of what to do. He reached for the door handle on the passenger's side and opened it for you.

[king-finnigan]

Please do 2 and 49 for the geraskier prompts!

2: Royal AU + 49: Fake Married

Sorry it took me a while, anon! School’s been eating me alive.

***

Geralt’s always loved horses. He loves their elegance, loves their strength, loves their personalities and the way they press their noses against his pockets, looking for treats. 

He’s always loved being around them, he’s always loved brushing them and spoiling them after a hard day of ploughing the fields that surround the farm. 

Today is Wednesday, though, and his dad always forces him to take the day off on Wednesday - he’s not sure why Wednesday, specifically. Vesemir never dignified him with an answer, when he asked.

So, he gets up early in the morning, like he does every day - he’s never been one for sleeping in, anyways - and goes to the stable. He should brush Roach and Beetle, before maybe taking one of them on a ride through the hills - probably Roach, since Beetle is getting a bit older, and she’s never really been the adventurous type. He doesn’t blame her of course, after all the hard work she does day in day out, she deserves to stand around and do nothing all day if she wants to.

He walks out of the cottage, the late spring mist swirling around his feet as he walks through the orchard. He stops by one of the trees, reaching up to pick three slightly-too-ripe apples that would never make it to the market, before he continues walking to the stables. 

“Mornin’,” he greets Beetle, feeding her one of the apples. She munches on it happily, her big, brown eyes looking at him intently. He frowns a bit. She never looks at him like that. He shrugs it off, walking to the next stable, where Roach is. “And good morning to you,” he mutters, giving her the second apple, putting the third one in his pocket for later. 

Roach eats it, but butts him with her nose immediately after, shaking her head when he looks at her curiously. He walks back to the door, taking a brush off one of the hooks on the wall as he talks: “Something the matter, girls? You two seem a bit agitated.”

The horses, of course, don’t reply. He’s always loved them for that.

“Alright,” he mutters, a she turns back around. “Who first?” Roach neighs, shaking her head again. “Alright, alright. Impatient today, aren’t we?” he says, chuckling a bit as he opens the door to her box, stepping inside.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees someone huddled in the corner.

“What the hell?” He’s only aware of the fact that he’s dropped the brush when he hears it clatter on the floor.

Blue eyes shine up at him, red-rimmed, half-covered in a mess of brown curls. He steps forward, towards the young man curled up in the corner, hands balling by his side. He doesn’t care if he gets attacked, he can defend himself, he only cares about the horses. The stranger is so close to Roach’s hind leg, and if he were to break it, Geralt would have to put Roach down - and he definitely does not want to lose his best friend.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

The young man sniffles, wiping his face on his dirty sleeve. His clothes look fancy enough, like they cost a lot of money, but they’re all torn and bloodied, seemingly from a gash in the man’s forehead, and the scratches on his cheeks and hands. 

“Sorry,” the stranger whispers, “it was cold last night, and I had nowhere else to go.”

“Why not?”

“What?”

Geralt sighs, crossing his arms in front of him. This is his only fucking day off in the week, he doesn’t have time to question the stranger that’s broken into his stable. “Why’d you have nowhere else to go?”

The stranger rubs his reddened eyes again, before clasping his hands around his stomach - Geralt can hear it growling from here. “Ran away.”

Geralt sighs again, sitting down on the ground. “Why?”

“It was...” the young man clears his throat “it was... a prison.”

Geralt clenches his fists. “You escaped from prison?” He plants his hands on the ground, ready to get up and get on Roach to find the nearest palace guard - if this man is a criminal, then Geralt does not want to be caught red-handed harbouring him, even if he didn’t really consent to it.

“Nonono!” The young man reaches forward, trying to stop Geralt. “Not literally. I mean- I uh...” He rubs the back of his neck, frowning. “Shit. I’m so sorry, I thought I would be able to leave before you found me, I didn’t know you’d be getting up so early.” He waits for an answer, but Geralt merely purses his lips, jaw clenched.

The young man rubs the back of his neck again. “My dad, he uh... he’s a bit... very... incredibly overbearing. He wants to control my life, and I don’t want that. So I ran away.”

The young man’s stomach growls again, and the delicate features scrunch up in pain. Geralt sighs, and takes the last apple out of his pocket, the one he intended on eating himself, and rolls it towards the other man. 

Wide, blue eyes look at him in wonder and gratitude, as nimble fingers reach for the fruit. “Thank you, uh...”

“Geralt.”

“Thank you, Geralt.” He’s about to take a bite, when he stops himself. “I’m uh... Jaskier, by the way.” He bites into the fruit, face relaxing as he sighs deeply, a soft hum at the back of his throat.

“You’re welcome, Uh-Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes and smiles at him, cheeks stuffed with apple. Geralt can’t help but smile back. Jaskier may be strange, and kind of off-putting, familiar in a way that Geralt feels like he should know the man, but not in a personal way, and he may look like a bit of a poncy prick, with his fancy clothes and neatly cut hair, but Geralt can also see the relief in those blue eyes, see the weight of the world lift off those thin shoulders.

And maybe he feels a little bad, sure. And maybe he decides not to chase Jaskier away the first chance he gets. But he’s definitely chasing the young man away the second chance he gets.

“So, Geralt,” Jaskier says, muffled through the bits of apple, “do you always talk to horses?”

Geralt frowns, shrugging. “I suppose so. Do you always run through the woods like a madman?”

Jaskier frowns, indignant look on those delicate features. “What makes you think I was running like a madman?”

Geralt looks him up and down, in a way that’s clearly saying: Did you even look at yourself? “You’re covered in scratches and bruises and your clothes are ripped. Either you were behaving like an idiot, or you got beaten up.” It’s silent for half a beat. “Though those two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Jaskier gasps at him, nimble fingers on his chest, mouth agape. “How dare you. I’ll let you know I’m-” He cuts himself up, his finger hanging in the air between them.

Geralt pulls his eyebrows up. “You’re what?”

The young man shakes his head. “Nothing,” he mumbles.

Geralt shrugs again, turning around when he hears the thunder of hooves on the dirt, outside. A distant shout: “Julian! Julian Alfred Pankratz!”

Geralt frowns, shaking his head lightly, as he turns back to Jaskier, who’s blushing from his slender neck to his messy hair. “Wait,” he mutters, “are you Julian? Are they calling out for you?”

Jaskier looks at him, wide, blue eyes guilty and sad, so incredibly sad. 

“What’s this noise all about?” He hears Vesemir shout in the distance, probably standing in the doorway to the cottage.

Julian Alfred Pankratz. He’s heard that name before. 

He squints his eyes, raking through his memory. Oh no. It makes sense now. The clumsiness in the woods, the fancy clothing, the familiar-but-not-that-familiar face. Julian Alfred Pankratz. The crown prince of Kaedwen.

He stands up abruptly, heading for the door. He’s not going to get himself and his dad arrested for harboring a runaway prince, for the love of the gods.

“Wait!” Jaskier calls behind him, still on the floor, and for some reason, Geralt does stop. He doesn’t turn back, though, and simply waits for Jaskier’s explanation.

“He was gonna marry me off. My dad. To some noble lady from Nazair. I don’t wanna marry a noble lady from Nazair.”

Geralt sighs, rolling his eyes. “I completely understand. Your life must be so hard.”

He can hear Jaskier sniffle behind him, probably crying again. “I know you don’t understand. I wouldn’t, either. I mean, she’s pretty and she’s nice and she’s a noble lady from Nazair. But-” it’s quiet for a second or two, as the palace guards keep shouting the prince’s name, outside, “but my dad doesn’t understand that I don’t wanna marry a lady.”

Geralt looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t wanna marry a lady,” Jaskier whispers again, tears in his eyes, blush creeping up his neck, hands trembling in front of him as he stares at the floor. “He doesn’t approve.”

“Oh.” Geralt thinks for a second, lets Roach bump his shoulder with her nose, lets her snort against his frown. “And if you go back now, you have to marry her?”

Jaskier nods, a single tear rolling down his cheek. 

“And if you were already married? He can’t break the sanctity of marriage, once it’s completed.”

Jaskier looks up at that, frowning at him. “I guess, but I don’t know anyone who’s willing to marry me right here and now.”

Geralt sighs, and looks at Roach, who looks right back at him. He can’t believe he’s gonna do this. 

He turns around, kneeling in the straw, as the footsteps of the guards approach the stable. It’s only minutes until they find Jaskier. 

Geralt takes a piece of straw, taking Jaskier’s left hand, tying the straw around his finger. He holds his hand out. “You do the same.” Jaskier does as he’s told, eyes confused but realization slowly dawning, hands trembling.

“But- the ritual of getting married takes longer, this isn’t marrying, we’re not-”

“Yes, I know that,” Geralt hisses impatiently, then beckons to the door with his head, “but they don’t know that. We just have to keep pretending.”

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, doesn’t know why he’s basically about to throw his whole life at the farm away for a life at the court, but he feels bad for Jaskier, feels the same anger and frustration and sadness mirrored in himself about not being understood, not being accepted for who you love.

He remembers a summer love, long ago. He remembers Vesemir chasing him away.

“This is just temporary, okay? Just until you find someone you actually love, and then you can marry him and reveal that this was all fake, alright?”

Jaskier’s finally finished tying the straw around his fingers, but his hands clasp Geralt’s before he can move away. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Geralt loses a little piece of himself in those ocean eyes.

He shakes the sudden dizziness away, and pulls Jaskier up, taking his hand, leading him outside.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by guards, their swords aimed at Geralt’s chest. He swallows thickly. “Let the prince go!” One of the guards says, the point of his blade pushing into the fabric of Geralt’s shirt.

“No!” Jaskier shouts, standing between them, clasping Geralt’s hand in his. “Don’t, McKinley. He’s-” his voice catches in his throat “he’s my husband?” he whispers.

McKinley takes a step back. “What?”

Jaskier smiles hesitantly, holding up his hand with the piece of straw around his finger, then holds Geralt’s hand up, showing the matching makeshift ring. “I got married?”

McKinley pales. “Oh, gods, Julian, I don’t want to be the one to tell your father about this.”

Jaskier shrugs. “It’s okay, I’ll explain, don’t worry about it.”

Geralt’s eyes are drawn by Vesemir, standing outside the semi-circle of guards, looking just as confused as they are. “Married?” he mouths at Geralt.

“Explain later.” Geralt mouths back.

Oh, gods, he thinks to himself, as the guards bow to him and Jaskier, one by one, muttering ‘our royal highnesses’. What have I gotten myself into?

[alkae]

Little Criminals

“Hugo?”

Hugo jolted awake at the sound of his boyfriend calling him from the other side of the library. “Huh, what?”

He glanced around, glasses askew on his face and quickly righted them. “Vari? Darling?”

“Over here, Hugh!”

Hugo looked to his left and saw Varian carrying a large stack of books that was so high that he couldn’t see his face. And that couldn’t happen. Hugo stood and took some of the books from him. “Thank you, my sweet,” Varian said gratefully. With the excess books gone, Hugo noticed an addition to his boyfriend: Ruddiger the raccoon, curled up on his boyfriend’s neck. The second the two made eye contact, they glared at each other.

Neither were particularly fond of one another. Both got a lot of Varian’s attention, so naturally there was animosity between them whenever one of them got said attention.

“Hugh?”

Hugo turned his attention away from the raccoon and instead focused on his lovely boyfriend. “Yes, Hummingbird?”

“I’m going out for the day. Corona is in desperate need of their royal engineer. Something happened with the hot water machines, I think. Eugene probably used the water all up again.” Varian laughed. “He does that. A lot.”

Hugo’s face soured. He wasn’t particularly fond of “Eugene” either. He knew him as Flynn Ryder and the guy was a hack. “Well, you’d better get on that Vari. Don’t want his majesty to get pissy about taking a cold shower. How will he ever cope?”

Varian laughed and nudged Hugo lightly. “Don’t be mean. You’d be equally upset if the same happened to you.” He set the books on the table and Hugo followed suit. Ruddiger continued to glare at him from Varian’s shoulder. Hugo glared back. Stupid raccoon. Wait, Varian was still talking. “...need you to watch Ruddiger.”

What. “What?”

“Oh, well, I don’t want Ruddiger near the machines if they’re unstable. Wouldn’t want him getting hurt right?”

“Yes. That would be a shame,” Hugo replied dryly.

Varian glared at him. “Anyway, he’s going to stay with you, here. Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” He leveled his glare at both Hugo and Ruddiger. “Both of you. Please don’t break or touch anything when I’m gone.” Now he just glared at Hugo. “I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Last time was when Hugo moved one of Varian’s experiments, resulting in a pretty nasty explosion. Varian had yelled at Hugo for some time and Ruddiger had watched, amused, in the background. Smug bastard.

“Don’t worry, Var Bear.” He always warmed up when Hugo used a nickname. “There will be no incidents this time. I promise.” He smiled in what he hoped was a charming grin. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

Varian looked uncertain for a second before he softened and kissed Hugo, gently and chastely. “I’ll hopefully be back soon.” He took Ruddiger off of his shoulders and held him out for Hugo to take. Both’s stare was as if the other was a venomous viper. But, just to make his little alchemist happy, Hugo reached over and took him, holding the raccoon under its arms and dangling it in the air. Varian made an unhappy noise. “He’s not a doll, sweetheart.”

Hugo plopped Ruddiger down on the table. The raccoon chittered angrily at him. “There. Happy?”

Varian huffed. “Please be nice to each other. For me, okay?” His gaze was so sweet and innocent that Hugo couldn’t help but give in. He had grown weak.

He kissed Varian again. He could feel Varian smiling. “Anything for you,” he said.

Varian pulled away. “I have to go now. Goodbye, my Golden Dove.”

“Goodbye, my Hummingbird.”

Hugo watched as Varian packed up his stuff and waved goodbye as he disappeared through the gold doors leading to the outside world. A world Hugo hardly visited of his own volition anymore. He was gone for all of two minutes before there was a crash. Hugo turned to see Ruddiger rummaging through their food crates. “Raccoon!” Hugo snapped. “Get out of there.” When Varian realized that he and Hugo would be spending most of their time in the Eternal Library, he had filled several crates with food and stocked up on apples for Ruddiger. But he told Hugo that the apples were for special occasions.

“I don’t want him to eat all the apples,” Varian had said. “He needs to leave some for us, right?”

So of course, when Hugo saw said raccoon rummaging through the food crates, he responded kind of negatively. He rushed over to the crates and plucked Ruddiger out of them. “You’re not allowed to have any.” Hugo stomped away and set him down not too gently. In response, Ruddiger chittered at him in annoyance.

“Come on, raccoon, there has to be something for you to do that isn’t eating our resources.” He shooed him away. “Now get.”

Ruddiger shot him one last glare before vanishing around the shelves. Hugo huffed and leaned against the table. “Good. Let’s hope he stays out of trouble so I don’t have to deal with him,” he muttered to himself. He pushed off the table and stalked off, thinking that he would have the day to himself. After all, he reasoned, Ruddiger was smart for a raccoon. Surely he wouldn’t be that much trouble.

An hour later, Hugo was roaming one of the aisles. It was the spell section, which is probably where Ulla got all of her information on possession and tying yourself to a library for 20 years.

He wasn’t really looking for anything, simply in the aisle for browsing. He slid one book with a silvery green cover off the shelf and opened it to a random page. Lucky for him, he was able to read most languages but sometimes he’d come across something that completely stumped him and caused him to call for Varian.

This was not one of those times. He could easily decipher the text and identify it as Saporian. They did have a memory wand so it wasn’t surprising that they had an entire spellbook written. He flipped through the book halfheartedly, eyes glazed. He could never find a spell that actually intrigued him enough to use it. Plus, Varian would kill him.

Unfortunately, Varian wasn’t there that day.

Hugo landed on a page where the top read “A spell for removing pests.” His eyes moved across the words, saving it to his memory. Just in case. It said it would take the pest to another location, somewhere not near where the user was. He was about to read more when suddenly, he felt a weight on his shoulder and grunted as Ruddiger launched off of him to jump onto the bookshelf across from him. “Raccoon!” he exclaimed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you even want?”

Ruddiger didn’t answer, simply nestling in a spot above a row of books, resting his head on his paws. Hugo glowered at him.

“Raccoon, those are incredibly old and important books. You can’t just use them as a bed,” Hugo scolded.

The look he got was one of skepticism. He suddenly was reminded of the time he used a book as a coaster. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly. “That was one time! Plus, the book was fine.”

The look didn’t go away. He felt his annoyance rise. “Okay. If you’re the epitome of sainthood, you would stop digging through the apples when Varian tells you not to.”

Now Ruddiger looked embarrassed. Hugo grew smug. “Thought so. Now, if you would please extract yourself from my premise and find another place to sleep, that would be nice.” Ruddiger’s embarrassment replaced itself with agitation. He chittered at Hugo, who rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if you normally sleep here. I’m here now, which, therefore, means you can’t sleep here.”

In response, Ruddiger stood as much as he could crammed in between the books and the shelf and knocked one of the books to the ground. Hugo stared at it. “You did not just do that.”

Ruddiger’s next chitter was gleeful. The sadistic little cretin. Another book fell. “Stop that, raccoon!” 2 more books this time. “Raccoon, you better stop this right now or… or…” No threats came to his mind.

Ruddiger chittered. It sounded like he was saying, “Or what?”

Hugo looked around. What could he do for a punishment. His eye caught the book in his hand that he left open to the spell that removed pests. He scanned it again. “Or I’ll remove you! You pest.”

Ruddiger made a movement that was clearly mocking. How dare he mock Hugo? “Fine! You asked for it!”

In hindsight, Hugo wasn’t using his head. He was annoyed and aggravated and he hadn’t read the page fully. He thought the spell was going to take Ruddiger to another part of the library. He thought it would be completely harmless.

When he read the words, he felt the air around him thicken and, despite the lack of open windows in the library, his hair began to blow like there was wind. Ruddiger’s eyes widened as a glowy pink portal opened to the right of him, growing to about the size of Hugo. Hugo stopped speaking when he saw the portal. “Wait! Shit! Go back, go back.” But it was too late. The suction of the portal was too strong and Ruddiger had little to no grip on the shelf. Hugo watched in horror as the portal pulled the raccoon in and promptly vanished without a trace.

He stared at the place where the portal was and then at where Ruddiger had just sat. Then he said, “Fuck.”

He ran around the library calling for Ruddiger, desperately clinging to the hope that he was just in another part of the library.

After 20 minutes of screaming “Raccoon!”, Hugo admitted to himself that Ruddiger wasn’t there and sank to the ground. His panic caused him to continue holding the book in his hand, clutching to it like it was a precious jewel. He sat against the shelf and tried to steady his breathing.

Varian was going to kill him. Varian was going to break up with him if he came back and found out that his raccoon, his best friend, was missing.

Hugo had to get him back. He couldn’t lose the best thing that ever happened to him because of a stupid mistake.

“It’s okay Hugo,” he murmured to himself. “It’s gonna be okay. Deep breaths.” He inhaled deeply, exhaling through the nose. “Alright. Okay. Let’s figure this out. How do I get the raccoon back?”

Something silvery caught his eye. He looked down and gasped. “Stupid Hugo! Of course! The book!” He flipped it open and quickly found the page. He read it outloud. “Warning: if you aren’t careful, you’ll be sucked into the portal as well. Note that the spell is only temporary if the pest is close to where the portal first opened and if it’s undone within 2 hours.” Well. That was just fantastic. “If you wish to undo the spell, say these words. If the pest is not close to the portal, it may be possible to journey into the portal while keeping it open. Such a thing has never been done before.” Then a crossed out word. Hugo squinted and adjusted his glasses. “Impossible? No, no no no. I will make it possible.”

He quickly set to work making a machine that pulled him out of the portal when he needed to leave while simultaneously keeping it open. He went back to where Ruddiger first disappeared and reread the spell. The portal reopened and Hugo wrapped the rope connected to the machine around his waist. He took a deep breath.

“This is for Varian,” he muttered to himself. He leapt in.

The place was basically a junkyard.

Things, random objects, were strewn everywhere. There were also creatures of varying size and color, some bugs, some mammals like Ruddiger. “This place is massive,” Hugo said out loud. “How am I ever going to find that raccoon?”

A low growl surprised him and he turned to see a full sized dinosaur prowling around the junkyard land. His jaw dropped. “No fucking way.” Why was there a dinosaur in here? He watched, stunned, as it glanced around, uninterestedly, and then clomped off. He released a gasp of air. “Alright, I need to get that raccoon, now.”

He untied the rope and then retied it around a particularly heavy object so it wouldn’t go anywhere. Then, he took out the spellbook he decided to bring with him, just in case, and tried to search for a searching spell. Hugo figured that there must be one somewhere. After all, there was this spell, which caused nothing but trouble for Hugo.

There! A spell for finding. He skimmed it and then read it, quietly, so as not to summon the dinosaur. A glowing gray beacon rose in the air, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and began to float away. Hugo followed it, stepping over broken pieces of metal and junk. He glanced around at the world, hoping he didn’t spot a human. That would be awful. It was already bad that he saw animals that looked like pets. He didn’t need to see a child or something.

That brought another question out of him: did time pass at all in here? Because there were dinosaurs, living breathing dinosaurs, here. So time must not pass.

Wow. What an intriguing spell. If he wasn’t so annoyed by it, he’d be fascinated.

He began to call for Ruddiger, but he kept his voice quiet. And he called Ruddiger “raccoon”, which probably didn’t inspire Ruddiger to come out.

There was a rustling to his left. He and the beacon stopped and he turned. Lo and behold, scurrying out of a pile of trash, there was Ruddiger, holding an apple in his paws. Hugo was both relieved and annoyed. “There you are! You’re coming with me, raccoon.”

Ruddiger glared at him. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t need to. His point was clear. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I sucked you into a portal. Happy?”

Ruddiger shook his head. “I won’t suck you in another one. And, uh you can have apples when we get back.” Ruddiger pointedly showed Hugo his own apple. “I know, I know. But come on, isn’t an apple from Varian better than some random apple?”

The expression on his face clearly stated that he didn’t care either way. Hugo huffed. “What will it take you to come back, raccoon?”

‘Leave,’ is what Ruddiger’s face said.

Hugo threw his hands up. “You’re impossible. I’m not leaving Varian. You’re gonna have to get used to my presence.”

‘I’m not leaving either,’ Ruddiger seemed to reply.

The two glared at each other. “Raccoon,” Hugo said slowly. “I will drag you back home if I have to.”

Before Ruddiger could react, a screech interrupted their staring contest. They looked up to see a real life pterodactyl or some other flying dinosaur circling them. Even though Hugo couldn’t see that far up, he could tell that he was aiming for Ruddiger.

He wouldn’t let that prehistoric bastard get him.

So when the dinosaur bolted down to grab at him, Hugo pushed Ruddiger back into hiding and felt sharp claws latch around his waist. He was lifted into the air and he saw Ruddiger peek up at him from his hiding place. “Run!” he screamed to Ruddiger. “Go to the portal!”

If both of them couldn’t make it back, at least one of them should. For Varian. Hugo closed his eyes as the dinosaur took him away to some cave. He wished that he could see Varian again before he was eaten. What he wouldn’t give to redo everything that he did.

As he was dropped into a nest, he realized with shocking clarity how big of a brat he was. All it took was being abducted by a dinosaur to make him see that this was all him. He put his face in his hands. Look at me, he thought miserably. Ready to be eaten by a supposedly extinct creature because I was jealous of a raccoon.

The dinosaur surprisingly didn’t eat him immediately. Instead, it decided to go out hunting again, probably looking for Ruddiger. Hugo curled into a ball. How would he escape? Even if he did leave the cave, he had no idea where he was. And he dropped the spellbook during his flight. Maybe this place was like a circle. Maybe he could get out easily.

He wished he wasn’t so jealous. He wished he realized that Varian had a big heart. He wished he wasn’t so horrible to Ruddiger.

There was a chitter to his left. “Oh great, now I’m going insane,” he muttered. Something hard smacked into the side of his head. “Ow! Hey!” He turned and saw Ruddiger, clutching the spellbook and looking up at him with big round eyes.

He was shocked. “Raccoon? You came back for me?”

Ruddiger shrugged. Hugo decided to take it. “Thank you.” Ruddiger tilted his head in a flippant gesture. “No really. Thank you. You know, I think that all this time, we’ve just been misunderstanding each other and we should-” He cut off when he caught Ruddiger’s annoyed face. “Yeah, you’re right. We should go.”

He stood and Ruddiger made his way onto his shoulders. He decided not to complain about this. While they were heading to the exit, a low growl stopped them. “Shit.” The dinosaur was back. Hugo and Ruddiger exchanged a look. How were they going to get the dinosaur away from them? Hugo hid along the wall and thought to himself. There was nothing in the cave but bones, which was incredibly troubling. He didn’t think to bring his alchemy belt with him.

Ruddiger tapped his neck. He glanced over at him and saw him pointing to the spell book. That’s right! But they had to be smart about this. He couldn’t just spit out spells willy nilly. Ruddiger signaled his plan to Hugo quickly: he would distract the dinosaur while Hugo searched for the right spell to get the dinosaur permanently off their back.

“Will you be alright, though?” Hugo whispered. Ruddiger’s face said he was hopeful yet unsure. Hugo took a deep breath in. “Alright. Just… be safe okay? If not for me then for Varian.”

Ruddiger nodded in affirmation. This was for Varian.

Ruddiger scampered off as Hugo hid behind a rock. The dinosaur crawled back into the cave and scanned the room. When he didn’t see his dinner, he roared and hit the wall, causing the cave to rumble. Hugo stumbled and he opened the spell book. What spell would beat a dinosaur?

As he searched, he heard Ruddiger distracting the dinosaur. Or at least he thought it was Ruddiger. He heard something spit and then the dinosaur roar louder. Just that caused the cave to shake. He flipped through the book as Ruddiger led the dinosaur around the cave.

Teleportation spell… no, because what if Ruddiger was teleported with the dinosaur? Deaging spell? Maybe. But it would take awhile and they might not have awhile.

He landed on the spell that caused him so much trouble in the past. He groaned. No, this wouldn’t help him at all.

The second he went to turn the page, there was a huge slamming noise that caused him to turn. He saw the dinosaur with a wiggling Ruddiger in its claws.

He acted on instinct. He ran out of his hiding place, picked up a rock and threw it as hard as he could at the dinosaur. Hugo was never the strongest person. He was flexible and clever and intelligent but in a heated brawl, he would always come out on the bottom.

But he couldn’t just watch Varian’s first and closest friend be eaten.

The dinosaur turned, growling low. Hugo mustered up all the bravery he learned from Varian and screamed, “Drop him you overgrown, extinct, prehistoric bird creature!”

Of course the dinosaur didn’t drop him but it was very intrigued by Hugo. It eyed him as Hugo tried to stand his ground. He didn’t know if he could distract him enough to read the spell he was on: the spell that got them into this mess.

He had caught the words underneath the spell that said that the world generated was randomized each time. The only reason he got the world Ruddiger was in was because he specialized the portal. If he could summon the spell again, he could suck the dinosaur into the portal. Hugo picked up another rock and aimed it at the claw that held Ruddiger. “Put him down!” he repeated.

The dinosaur did, in fact, put him down. However, it wasn’t in surrender. Hugo was simply a bigger, tastier dinner in its eyes. Ruddiger disappeared out of view as Hugo backed up to avoid the dinosaur. He needed time to read.

And that wonderful raccoon gave him that chance as an apple splattered onto the dinosaur’s eye. Coming from experience, juice in the eye wasn’t pleasant. The dinosaur screeched and reared back. Hugo looked around and saw Ruddiger hurrying over to him and leaping onto his shoulders. He took the chance and, in a loud, confident voice, he read the spell.

The portal was huge and the two watched as the dinosaur grabbed at the ground to hold his place. But it was no use; the dinosaur was sucked into the portal and vanished from sight.

They were silent for all of 2 seconds before Hugo whooped. “He’s gone! We did it, Ruddiger!” He swung him around in celebration, book tucked under his arm. Then he remembered himself and put him back on his shoulders, clearing his throat. “Uh, thank you. Really. For saving me back there.”

Ruddiger patted his face as if to say ‘thank you, too.’ Hugo smiled despite himself. “We’ll call it even. Now how about we get out of here?”

Hugo was grateful that he tied the rope to a big hunk of junk because it hadn’t moved an inch since he left it there.

The two exited the portal, Ruddiger clinging to Hugo’s neck. They were more or less spit out and Hugo collided with the machine, breaking it. In response, Hugo broke it further. “Let’s hope we never have to use that again,” he said to Ruddiger. Ruddiger chittered in agreement.

In a show of comradery, Hugo snuck Ruddiger an apple from the crate and one for himself too. “If Varian asks, I ate both.” He winked.

When Varian returned,the two relaxing on a chair at a desk, Ruddiger curled up on Hugo. “Vari!”

“Hugh!” Varian leaned over Ruddiger’s now awake form to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “How was today? Did you two have fun?” Ruddiger crawled up onto Varian’s neck.

Hugo repressed a smile. “We had tons of fun.” He shared a look with Ruddiger.

Varian beamed. “I’m so glad you two are getting along.” He kissed Hugo again. “Thank you for watching him today. I’m so grateful.”

Hugo released his smile. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”

Varian sighed. “Now. I could go for a treat after the day I had.” He took Hugo’s hand and helped him stand. “Who wants an apple?”

[kaptain-k-pop]

The K-List: #17

MY I

SEVENTEEN

(Look who's back, back again. This-series-of-me-periodically-gushing- about-songs-that-I-like is back, tell your friends)

(Disclaimer: I tried to make this post yesterday 3 times but Tumblr is a bastard and wouldn't display it in the tags so I had to remake it and now it's late and I'm pissed abt that but w/e 😤)

Happy China line day!!!!!

(I am not kidding when I tell you that I first thought of making this post last August and have literally been waiting for months for this day 👀)

It is the 8th of June today so what better day to bring attention to this lovely song from The8 and Jun? 😌

There is both a Korean version of this song and a Chinese version TRAGICALLY only the Korean version of this masterpiece seems to be on Spotify, and if indeed that is the case it's a criminal crime that I am not able to add the Chinese version to my Spotify playlist 😤

But putting aside the sins of Spotify in not having both versions, you really need to actually watch the MVs of YouTube anyway. Because not only is this song beautiful and artistic, but the video of these two performing the acompanying choreography is so beautiful. It's so simple and yet still one of my absolute favorite music videos aesthetically 😌💗

I really recommend listening to both versions and comparing the lyrics between them because they both fit together like two sides of a conversation and it's so beautiful! 😔💗

For example, in the Chinese version Minghao says "I am your future, you are my past " while in the Korean Version Jun says "You are my future, I am your past" (there are more examples but I won't list them all, just go bless your eyes and ears and find them yourself)

I also love the entire ying and yang imagery of the videos, and the special touch of starting out showing Minghao with his dark hair starting out wearing all black and Jun in all white with light hair

Before they switch, and for the rest of the video Jun is the Yin while Minghao is the Yang

I love the whole idea of them having this rope tying them together showing that they're connected and how they're able to use it in so many interesting ways to enhance the choreography while also managing to not get it tangled or twisted? Talent???

And the fact that they have their opposite hands tied, Minghao's left and Jun's right

I LOVE the many possible ways to interpret "My I": my 'I' as in 'myself', my 'eye' and my favorite which I found recently discovered: my '愛'

(Isn't that such a cool fact???? It means my love in Chinese!)

The fact that every time they say "My I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I" there are 13 I's??????

*Mwah* *chef's kiss* beautiful 😘👌

Okay I'm done rambling now bc this took longer than I thought to type and I gotta make sure I post this before it's no longer the 8th 😬😬😬 just... this is a work of art please go watch it if you haven't, do yourself a favor! 😔💗

(I wanted to helpfully add some links here for that very purpose, but Tumblr is a bastard and hated my post for having links so it wouldn't show up in any tags so I'm just gonna put the links in the replies instead of on the post)

[wwjacksparrowd]

Sneak Peek for Ch. 18 of CtNT

Here it is, the 1k excerpt from Chapter 18 of Chase the Neon Throne that I promised... yesterday. Whoops. If it wasn’t at least a day late, though, could you even be sure that I was the one posting it? :P

Warning: Spoilers below if you’re not caught up with Ch. 17. Other than that, I don’t think it gives any real spoilers for Ch. 18.

Mai exited her tent, spotted Zuko, and made a beeline for him. “Hey, Zuko. Can we talk?”

Mai had never once in Zuko’s life actively sought conversation. “Sure,” Zuko agreed, intrigued.

The two of them meandered further down the beach from their camp in the opposite direction of Aang and the others. Mai considered him for a couple of moments, her gaze sharp, and finally said, “I didn’t know you’d been brainwashed.” The statement was such a non-sequitur that for a moment, Zuko wasn’t sure what she was talking about. Seeing this on his face, Mai added helpfully, “Before Azula took over the city and imprisoned you in the Fire Nation. I wasn’t part of the brainwashing in Lake Laogai. All Azula told me was where to go and what to do, and that when her plan was over, Ba Sing Se and the Avatar would have fallen. I mean, I didn’t ask, either. I didn’t care what she was doing.”

Zuko had never truly considered Mai’s role in everything beyond a vague assumption that she had been in on whatever Azula and Ty Lee had planned, so while the revelation did not specifically detract from that assumption, it still surprised him a little. “I see.”

“If I had known that Azula’s plan included capturing you and bringing you back to the Fire Nation where she could do what she liked,” Mai continued ruefully, “I would have done something about it. I don’t know if I could have succeeded without putting my life and my freedom on the line with yours, and I don’t think I would have taken that kind of risk, but I would have done something, for what it’s worth. I would have at least tried.”

“I wouldn’t have expected that,” Zuko replied honestly. “We didn’t see each other for years, after all, and it’s not like we were especially close before I was banished.”

Mai shrugged. “Maybe if I’d thought she would just throw you into a jail cell and be done with you, I wouldn’t have. Once you actively sided against her, though, I knew exactly what would happen if she ever caught you.”

Zuko hummed. “Well…, thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.” Mai snorted. “I didn’t do anything, after all. I just thought you should know that I wasn’t part of any of that.”

“Hey, guys!” Ty Lee shouted from just beyond their camp. “Lunch is ready!”

Zuko and Mai retreated to their friends’ company. Aang waved Zuko over to a seat around the campfire between Aang and Katara which had been saved for him.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Ty Lee asked the group at large.

“I felt some scam artists in the marketplace earlier,” Toph quickly announced.

“No,” Katara rejected just as quickly.

“I thought you were cool with that now! It worked out well enough back in that other city,” Toph complained. “Oh, man, I still wish I could have stuck around long enough for the guards to find out I’d busted out of that metal cell they put me in.”

“Yes, that was fun,” Katara conceded, “and maybe - maybe - we could do it again someday, but do you really think we should be drawing attention to ourselves right now? Here, in the Fire Lord’s old vacation spot?”

“…Okay, that’s fair,” Toph allowed. “What else is there to do in town?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” Sokka exclaimed, hastily withdrawing parchment from his satchel –

“If that’s another schedule, I’m breaking up with you,” Suki threatened.

“It’s not,” Sokka promised, but the sudden gleam in his eyes promised that there would soon be a schedule regardless of Suki’s warning. “Check it out!” He displayed a poster for a play called The Boy in the Iceberg, depicting clear parodies of Aang, Suki, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Zuko.

“Hang on a second,” Ty Lee objected. “Where are Longshot and I in this poster? And Jet? And Smellerbee?”

“We didn’t really travel with any of you guys,” Sokka reasoned. “…The three of them are in the character list, though.”

Ty Lee huffed. “Rude.”

(She would soon come to appreciate her absence from the play.)

“No way.” Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust as he registered the cast that had been credited with the play. “The Ember Island Players? My mother used to take me to see them. They butchered Love Amongst the Dragons every year. I never understood why they were so popular.”

“I can’t believe our options for entertainment are ‘become criminals’ and ‘attend a play about ourselves,’” Katara complained. “Have any of you ever considered subtlety?”

“Absolutely not,” Toph said pleasantly. “I vote for ‘become criminals.’”

“It’s not until tomorrow night,” Sokka pointed out. “We have time for both!”

“Didn’t we rule out ‘become criminals?’” Aang reminded everyone, glancing nervously at the steadily rising frustration on Katara’s face. “Like Katara said, this is a particularly dangerous place to draw attention to ourselves….” His face brightened. “I don’t think it’s too dangerous to go to the play, though! We’re all wearing disguises anyway.”

Sokka turned to Zuko. “Just because they butchered that one play doesn’t mean they butcher every play, right? Don’t you think it’d be fun to see a play about us?”

Zuko did not particularly see the appeal, but Sokka seemed intent on getting a ‘yes’ out of him. “I… I guess…?”

Immediately, Sokka turned back to Katara, eyes wide as he gestured dramatically at Zuko. “You can’t possibly say ‘no’ to Zuko! The poor guy’s never had fun in his life!”

“Wait a second,” Zuko interjected. He hadn’t realized he was enlisting as a weapon in Sokka’s arsenal of persuasion tactics.

Aang eagerly joined Sokka’s argument. “Zuko told me once that the only things he’s ever done for fun are make tea and plot his father’s demise!” he insisted, which was, while not exactly what Zuko had said at the time, true all the same.

“Zuko’s not going to be heartbroken if we don’t see a play by a cast that he doesn’t like,” Suki deadpanned. “That being said….” She tilted her head contemplatively at Katara. “If the Ember Island Players are popular, most of the people around here are probably going to see the play. It might end up being more suspicious if we haven’t seen the play.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” Katara admitted. “Well… if everyone wants to see it, I’m not going to stop us.”

“Great!” Aang exclaimed. He reached past Zuko and Katara to high-five Sokka.

[thisispurpleyam]

Surreptitious Candor part 4

A beautiful lounge singer and Napoleon Solo cross paths during U.N.C.L.E.’s mission in New York. 

Napoleon Solo x WOC oc

I thought that this fic would only need 4 parts, but apparently it calls for two more...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Playlist

*****

Knocking out and tying up the owner of the invitation was much simpler than Gaby and Illya expected. The man was the personification of nervous, awkward, and clumsy. He tripped over his own feet and started sobbing immediately after Illya kicked his door down. When Gaby suddenly appeared behind him, the poor guy just couldn’t take it and passed out. They finished the job quietly and swiftly before their oblivious victim’s neighbors noticed something was amiss. Shortly after, they set off to the rendezvous point the team had agreed on. 

At the soiree, Napoleon was blending in with the crowd perfectly, being the usual charmer he was. Amalia and Bernard didn’t even recognize him, as he had anticipated. So, when they paused to ask him who he was, he flawlessly delivered his story of being Alan Sinclair, the only child of the late Mr. and Mrs Sinclair. Everything else would have gone smoothly if it wasn’t for the gossip filling the room unnecessarily dragging out his job.

“Leon?” he heard a familiar voice call out to him, distracting him from his thoughts. 

He turned around and faced the singer whom he had recently become very well acquainted with. “Ah, Eula. Fancy seeing you here.” 

“After last night, who would have thought we’d run into each other again so soon?” she responded with a suggestive smirk. 

Napoleon knowingly smiled back, taking pride in the secret only they had the privilege of knowing. He took her hand in his and kissed her gloved knuckles. “Fate has its ways.” 

“I thought you didn’t like to dance, though?” Eula slyly asked, making a point of darting her eyes toward the dance floor. 

“I suppose I could make an exception for a certain chanteuse again, considering how well my night ended the last time I did,” he replied with a wink, taking the lead and joining the pairs swaying to the music. 

As the two of them moved in time with the song, it dawned on Eula how much time she had been spending with Napoleon. She preferred to be detached from people, being the independent and self-sufficient woman she was. Every involvement she ever had with a man, and they were very few and far between, only lasted a night. All of them, she either met at the lounge or worked with during one of her side jobs before she became a regular at the diner. She seldom let things get far as breakfast. Yet here she was, in her highest heels and most expensive dress, dancing with the devilishly handsome spy and enjoying his company for the fourth night in a row. 

“Alan,” Amalia Fernsby called out. “I see you’ve gotten comfortable enough to partake in the festivities.”

“Mrs. Fernsby,” Napoleon greeted as he pulled away from Eula, noticing her expression sour the moment they heard Amalia’s voice. He pretended to not notice and settled for an arm around her waist instead. “I couldn’t possibly say no to such a lovely dance partner.”

Amalia turned her focus to the singer and remarked, “you never told us the two of you know each other.”

“I prefer to keep our conversations on a need-to-know basis,” Eula responded curtly, flashing an artificial smile to emphasize her point. 

Bernard sensed the tension and stepped in, “I’m really glad you and Alan Sinclair are getting along well, though. His mother really meant a lot to our family. She was a wonderful tutor to you, and we’ll forever be in debt.” 

“She absolutely was. Maybe you could come over for dinner sometime, Alan,” Amalia excitedly added. “How your mother didn’t talk much about you, I will never understand. If I had a son as handsome as you, I would-“

“Mother,” Eula sternly cut in. “Let’s not make our guest uncomfortable, shall we?”

Before the conversation could get any further, their assistant came to inform Bernard and Amalia that their presence was requested by an important guest. 

Napoleon waited for any woman’s reaction whenever they realized a man had been dishonest with them. He anticipated Eula’s rage or tears, but neither came. Instead, she took her parents’ absence as an opportunity to get away from the crowd. 

“Let’s get out of here,” she said as she grabbed him and pulled him to an empty hallway, leading him to the fire exit door. She looked both ways to make sure the area was clear before dragging him inside the stairwell. 

Napoleon lazily raised both of his hands and offered Eula a sheepish grin, “Alright. You got me.” 

“Relax, Alan,” she said in sarcasm and leaned her back against the door. “I’m trying to help you.” 

Napoleon incredulously eyed the brunette. “You are?”

“Yes! So you better listen carefully before anybody notices anything out of the ordinary,” she responded all in one breath. 

Still doubtful, Napoleon inquired, “but why? Considering you just found out I used you and lied to you, the last thing you should be feeling is generosity.”

Eula rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Leon, I knew. From the moment we first met, I knew you weren’t who you presented yourself to be.”

“Alright, humor me then,” he challenged. “What do you know about me?” 

“First of all,” she started, taking steps closer to him and meeting his piercing gaze, “I know that you’re a conman. You always don designer suits that only the upper class of New York can afford, yet your hands are way too rough to belong to a man of wealth. Hell, even your car is more expensive than any I’ve driven before. As far as I know, no man can get that rich off physical labor alone. Hands like yours could only mean being heavily exposed to either field work or combat. My suspicions were proven right when I saw your scars last night. I’ve had my fair share of men, and I think I can tell the difference between a puny heir with no backbone and someone who had to do whatever he can to survive.” 

Napoleon could only look at her in wonder. None of the women he had been with were as observant. They usually swooned over the smallest things and bought whatever persona he sold to them. 

“I also know that you’re a thief. A good one, I might add, who would have gotten away with stealing my bracelet if I didn’t know the contents of my jewelry box like the back of my hand. After all, how can my bracelet disappear after I first spoke with you and suddenly turn up in my jewelry box after you spent the night?”

Napoleon snickered. “A good thief probably shouldn’t return items they’ve stolen.”

“Even if you hadn’t given it back, I still would have figured you out,” Eula confidently retorted. 

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

“Simple. You’re not at all the type of man to stick around. You’re the type who leaves after you’ve had your fun. And if the object of your desire doesn’t take you up on your offer right away, you move on to your next conquest. With me, you actually waited for three days and even visited the diner despite barely knowing me. What other reason would you have to stay other than the fact that you’d already figured out who I really was?”

Napoleon hated to admit it, but he was impressed. The CIA and U.N.C.L.E. had done a good job covering up his criminal record, yet Eula was able to glean that much information simply by paying attention. She might not have figured out the exact circumstances, but she got pretty damn close. “You’re perceptive, I’ll give you that.”

“Alright, then. My turn to ask now. How did you find out I was a Fernsby?”

“Your bracelet,” he answered nonchalantly. 

“My bracelet?” Eula asked in puzzlement. “But it’s a unique design that never reached the market.” 

“Precisely. At first I considered it was a knockoff brand, seeing as it had an emblem vaguely similar to the Fernsbys’ trademark logo, but the quality was way too high to be that cheap. Then I found out that in every photograph taken of the Fernsby women from different generations, each had that bracelet in common. I gathered that it was a jewelry unique to every woman in the family.”

Eula shook her head and scoffed. “I knew I should have thrown that stupid thing away. It never did quite fit me right.” 

“But there’s just one thing I couldn’t quite figure out.”

“And that is?”

“Every single Fernsby woman of the last three generations have their photographs in the paper, except for you.”

“I don’t really like to associate with my family. That’s the whole reason why I left the day I turned 18. I’ve been working at the lounge since then and even took up graveyard shifts at the diner.”

“So that’s why you’re helping me? Because you hate your family?” 

“Don’t mock me,” she firmly told him. “They’re not as ‘glamorous’ as they make people think. I may not know the exact details, but I was groomed to be the company’s heir and trained to understand the ins and outs. I know they’ve been caught up in human trafficking and drug dealing of some sort. I can’t exactly report them to the cops because even they can be bought by our family name alone. The money from the business my ancestors started deserves to be put to better use.”

“And you think I won’t misuse the money?” he sarcastically asked. 

“I think, you’re not doing this heist completely out of selfish reasons.”

“What makes you say that?”

“When you left the diner, I saw what you did to that young news boy. I saw how you bought all of the papers he had left just so he could go home. I also know that on the evening we met, when it was a really slow night at the lounge, it was you who tipped every single server on duty. Leon, you’re not as terrible of a person as you seem to think.”

“You’re trusting me way too much, Eula” Napoleon warned her. 

“Well, I’d rather trust you than my manipulative and controlling parents. At least I know you’re capable of helping people on your own free will. They only do it for show.” 

“If you hate them so much, why’d you come to the soiree?” he questioned. 

“Because it’s part of the deal,” Eula bit back. “I promised I’d show up to every stupid gathering they’d hold in exchange for them getting their ‘henchmen’ off my back. It doesn’t guarantee my safety from the tabloids, but it’s worth a try…”

Napoleon wordlessly studied the brunette. All the years he spent in his trade taught him to recognize dishonesty, and Eula showed no sign of it. “Fine,” he gave in. “When do we start?”

“We? I can’t go with you. I go on stage in a few minutes. You’ll be on your own, so you have to pay close attention to everything I tell you.” 

“Alright, what do I have to do?” 

Eula looked around the fire exit staircase to make sure no one could overhear and hurriedly instructed, “go into the janitor’s closet at the end of the hall. The wall on the left side of the door is hollow and has a hidden elevator behind it. You’ll need this,” she took off her bracelet and handed it to Napoleon, “because the emblem on the pendant unlocks the elevator doors.”

“Ah, so this ‘stupid thing’ has a use after all,” Napoleon teased.

She let out a dry laugh and answered, “yes, but I won’t be needing it anymore, so you can keep it. The elevator takes you to the most restricted area of the building. When you get there, you’ll see a steel door with a passcode. I would tell you the code, but they change it every 12 hours. You get past that, and then there’s a safe you gotta crack.”

“Lucky for you, safe cracking is a part of my skill set. But I suppose you already knew that otherwise you wouldn’t be telling me all this.”

“I didn’t really know. But considering the magnitude of this larceny, I just figured.”

“Hmm, fair enough. 

“Best be on your way before people start to miss you,” Eula ordered him. “Oh, and the password for unlocking the steel door from the inside is ‘awanggan.’ It’s Tagalog for infinity.” 

“Listen, Eula,” Napoleon began hesitantly, “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s okay,” she interjected with a genuine smile and joked, “I always knew you weren’t a ‘coffee and breakfast in the morning’ kind of guy from the get go.”

Napoleon began to make his way to the door until he paused in his tracks and turned back around. He caught her off guard by pulling her in and capturing her lips with his. After she got past her initial surprise, she eagerly responded almost immediately; each of them moving with an amount of aggression to ensure neither would easily forget the physical memory of the experience. He gave her bottom lip a soft bite before slowly pulling away.

 “Don’t miss me too much,” he smugly teased. 

“Whatever you say, Leon. Now hurry!” 

[blahblahwritings]

When It Rains, It Pours.

A/N: Heres to pumping out bad writing to try and resuccitate the writer inside. This didn’t turn out how I wanted it to because the evidence points aren't really explained but whatever its getting late and I'm too tired to care. 

Words: 2103.

Warnings: Well its a criminal minds fic so murder mentions, drownings, abuse mentions, kidnapping the usual.

The past few weeks had been exhausting for the BAU team, with back to back cases they rarely had time away. Their current case involved an unsub who was drowning women in their 30s one a day for the past three days. With Spencer by your side, you made your way to the medical examiner to look at the bodies for further analysis.

The abrasions around the victims wrists and ankles showed they had been restrained with rope and struggled against the binds. There were scrapes and scratches on the heels that had pieces of concrete embedded into the skin meaning that they were kept somewhere possibly underground in an old abandoned building or factory or even in someone’s basement. Reid, your husband, continued examining the body of the third, most recent, victim as you read over the reports.

“It says here they were drowned and that their lungs contained traces of common fertilisers and pesticides. So we’re looking at a rogue farmer?” Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in question. You glanced out the window, the rain streaming down the panes of glass just as heavy as it had been the past few days.

“Most likely. Given the geographical profile of where the women were last seen and where their bodies were found there are three hundred and twelve point six square meters of farmland but the problem is pinpointing which area the unsub is working in because the fertilisers are so commonly used.” He replied without breaking focus from the body in front of him. A small smile found its way to your face, his knowledge always impressing you.

“Okay, Sherlock, so what are you thinking?” You asked, putting down the report and moving towards the table. He stood to his full height, turning to you with tired eyes. “That we should call Garcia, I’ll tell her what to search for and hopefully she can give us a lead.” He almost managed to finish his sentence without a yawn. Almost. “Well you can do that in the car, you look drained, I’ll drive.” You kissed his cheek as you took the keys from him, intertwining your fingers and guiding him through the office until you reached the exit.

-

The team were taking shifts, Reid, Rossi and Kate were asleep in the hotel around the corner from the precinct while Hotch, Morgan, JJ and yourself worked on the case. You had dropped Reid off before driving through the storm to get a round of coffee to bring back to the rest of the team, your own tiredness starting to set deep into your bones. It was 11:30pm and the white noise of rain wasn’t doing anything for your sleepy state but the promise off coffee kept you from turning around and going straight back to the hotel for some much needed Zs.

You parked up outside the first 24hour coffee place you saw, ordering four of the strongest drinks they had. The lights were blinding in comparison to the streetlights outside but you stood, patiently waiting for your order. The only other customers were what looked to be two construction workers in hi-vis jackets, probably form the road works a little while back. They sat at a table in the corner, almost asleep until the guy at the counter shouted their order, causing them to startle awake. A few minutes passed and your order was called. Collecting the cup holder you jogged back to your car, opening the passenger-side door and setting them down on the seat.

As you started to walk to the drivers side, you shot a text to JJ telling her you’d be about five minutes, getting soaked in the process. Rounding the back of the car you bumped into a man, dropping your phone. Alarms sounded in your head, every muscle kicking into action as you took several steps back, a guarded look on your features. He was in his forties, well-built and had at least a foot on you with a face like clay, pushed and pulled and contorted. His boots were covered in mud and his jeans had dirt on the knees. Your phone was behind him. Your gun in the car.

Three strides and he was on you. As you opened your mouth to scream, he covered your mouth with a cloth, the sound muffling and the pungent smell of chloroform filling your nose. You held your breath and tried to fight, flinging elbows and feet behind you in a futile attempt to break free. Your last thought as you started to go limp was Spencer. Then it was dark.

-

It had been over an hour since JJ received the text from you. After her calls kept going to answer phone, Morgan had left with Hotch to try and find your car, tracking the GPS location of the vehicle to the parking lot you’d been taken in. JJ rang Reid once they had confirmed you were missing with your phone found smashed near your unlocked car. By the time he and the others arrived at the station, Morgan and Hotch had sent the security camera footage to the precinct. Spencer stood staring at the screen, fear manifesting in every fibre of his being as the only image was of your struggle against a man clearly much larger than you then your body drooping as you passed out. His vision blurred, his mind somehow coming to a standstill, unable to move or breathe.

“Spence.. Reid” JJ shook him gently. He didn’t flinch, instead turned slowly to his friend with tears in his eyes, hair messy from his hands running through it over and over. “We’re gonna find her, I promise.” But the words didn’t seem to process in the genius’ mind. Right now, all he could think about was the slim chance that you’d get out of this alive. His jaw clenched, a look of anger took over his usually soft features before he started working on the case again. He wouldn’t let you die like this, he refused. He needed you by his side and he would stop at nothing to ensure your safe return.

-

The first thing you felt was the sting of your feet being scraped against the floor, then the ache in your arms and shoulders as you realised you were being dragged by the rope binding your wrists down dark, cold hallway. You were still groggy from being drugged and couldn’t bring yourself to fight against the unsub but you tried your best, pulling at the binds. Your kidnapper grunted in response, the attempts not concerning him in the slightest. He picked you up, lying you in something cold and smooth then tying you down so you couldn’t escape. You shook yourself further awake.

“Who are you and why are you doing this.” You mumbled, the words tumbling carelessly from your lips. No response. A calloused hand found its way to your face, his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone and a whimper was heard from beside you. “What’s wrong?” You tried showing sympathy but still got nothing in return. The room was pitch black and you could only make out his silhouette. He stood, walking somewhere out of sight before you heard a door shut and lock. Your head lay back against the hard material behind you, arms hanging above and your legs folded over some kind of edge. You felt anything you could get your hands on and found you were tied to a thin pipe of some sort but nothing really became any clearer.  

A loud metallic clang sounded above you and freezing water rained down on you, soaking your already damp clothes. The light from the opening revealed you were lying in a bathtub, hands by the taps and your legs bound so you couldn’t move. You jumped at the sudden drop in temperature. Panic rose in you and you started thrashing around but to no avail. You were trapped. The only spark of hope was that the team would find you. That Spence would find you.

-

“Okay so I analysed the footage and ran it through different software and it looks as though our unsub is about 6’4” and built like a bull but thats all I can find.” Garcia’s voice rang out through the tinny speakers of the phone.

“Alright babygirl, I’m gonna need you to look for men in their mid thirties to forties who possibly works on a farm or lived on one as a kid.” Morgan began. “Yeah that’s only the entire population of the town you’re in, c’mon I need more than that.” She quipped.

“Crosscheck that with a history of violence against women or a history of abuse during childhood, the victims are a surrogate for a woman in his past possibly a parental figure as they all share similar physical attributes.” Spencer added, his brain spitting out words quicker than Garcia could really process. Rapid typing could be heard on the other end of the phone a moment after.

“Oh good doctor you are brilliant, there are two men who fit the criteria and live in the comfort zone, one being Mr. James Bailor, a 38 year old farmer who has been arrested on three accounts of domestic violence against his wife. He lives on the farm, recently ordered a batch of the same fertiliser found in the victims’ lungs and lived on a farm with his aunt at the age of eight due to abuse from his parents.” She explained before continuing. “The other is Mr. Grant O’Connor, a 43 year old farmer with a long list of felonies consisting almost entirely of beating on women and drug use. His mother died a week ago but he was taken into care at a young age because… oh my god… she tried to drown him in a tub when he was just six years old claiming his birth defects were ‘against god’ and he should be ‘cleansed and sent straight back to hell’.” She finished breathless, their backgrounds clearly upsetting her.

“Thats him. Thats our unsub.” Reid declared, grabbing his gun from the table as he stood. “Whats his address?” He asked, shaking with too many emotions to count. There were two, one being his current home and the other being the farm his mother used to live in. The team leapt into action, speeding off to the latter address.

-

The water had reached your chin, the shivering long subsided as hypothermia took over your body. You couldn’t remember when you had begun to sob, the hot tears a sharp contrast against the coldness of your skin. “PLEASE.” You wept, hopeless. “Just let me out.” Your voice broke. Exhaustion had washed over your body a long time ago, the lack of sleep, the drugs and the cold all beating you down and preventing you from fighting with any real strength.

The water continued to rise and as it reached your nose you flailed about in the water, managing to get very little air. Then the unsub came in, wrapping his hands around your throat and pushing you down into the water as you fought. A loud siren pierced the noise of the room, startling the unsub but he kept you under. You held your breath for as long as possible but you could only do so much. The door to the room burst open, slamming against the wall, muted voices shouted but your world started to fade, your hearing going too.

A shot rang out and the water turned red. You kicked your legs and felt someone cut the ropes at your wrists free, pulling your top half out of the water. Coughing up the water you’d taken in, you gasped and clawed at the body lifting you out of the water, horrified cries the only thing left to leave your mouth. Two arms wrapped around your torso which you quickly identified as Spencer’s.

“Sh sh shhh. You’re alright, I’ve got you, love, you’re safe.” He cooed, trying to calm you down as well as himself. You curled into him, sobs wracking your body as you gripped onto his shirt. You thought that you’d die here, never to see him again, never to see your friends or family. The horror and anxiety snapped your chest in two, breathing becoming even more difficult as you broke down in his arms.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again, I love you so much, I’m so sorry. It’s okay now. It’s okay.. It’s okay…” His voice broke as he too cried, repeating those two words as you rocked back and forth.

[achtung-attitude]

CHAPTER 39: Smooth Criminal - Part 1

20 MINUTES EARLIER…

A young man with a dark tan throws his arm around T’onga Kim’s shoulders, excitedly shouting in an English accent, “Hiya love, you wanna be appear on my PRANK CHANNEL?!!” 

In response, she silently clutches the bridge of the guy’s nose and twists it as if turning a key to a lock. It crunches, and a fountain of blood spills forth from his nostrils, followed swiftly by a wail of pain from his throat. No one bothers her after that. 

She had arrived at Anaheim shortly after Shizuka and her friends, having tailed them from Beverly Hills and kept a close eye on them. Shaded under the palm trees while people inside begin doubling over from the effect of Toto’s Stand, she reaches the Arena Plaza.

Before she can head inside the center, something zips past T’onga from behind, like a bullet, which she just barely dodges, before it perforates the pavement in front of her. She heard no gunshot. Upon closer inspection, she sees the object is not a bullet, but a stone. Just a tiny, loose piece of rock you might find in any gravel pit. Warily, she looks behind her to see where the shot came from, and spots the assailant immediately. 

A young black woman leans against a palm tree. Hanging from her right hand by their laces are a pair of knee-high roller skates. Her long dreadlocks frame a cheeky smirk on her face. “Knowles…!” T’onga exclaims, with exaggerated surprise. 

“T’onga,” the younger woman replies, before sauntering towards her supposed compatriot in crime. “What up?”

“‘What’s up?!’ What’re you trying to pull?!” T’onga yells, outraged, “You could’ve punctured my lung with that rock just now! What, you were trying to get my attention?! That’s fucked up!”

Knowles laughs. “Ha! I’m surprised you didn’t notice me ‘til now. Looks like you slippin’. If you ain’t careful, you’re gonna get killed one of these days.”

“Sure, sure, whatever. Excuse me for not being on my toes at all times. I figured that since I got a little time off, I could enjoy the convention without having to worry about work today!”

“You’re here for TubeCon? You?”

“Is there a problem with that? I happen to take an interest in some make-up channels, so I wanted to take a look.”

“Ha! With a face as fucked as yours, I guess you need all the help you can get!”

T’onga’s face turns sour. “... Is that referring to my scar, or my age?”

“Whichever you prefer,” Knowles replies. She saunters to the fountain in the centre of the plaza and sits down, then starts taking off her shoes. As T’onga watches, she replaces them with the roller skates, carefully tying up the long laces.

“... What about you?” T’onga asks after a moment, “Never figured you the type who likes vloggers.”

“I ain’t. But I do follow a buncha news channels,” say Knowles, keeping her attention on tying her shoes. “You gotta keep up to date somehow, and you can’t trust what the media puts out. Doesn’t matter, though, since I’m actually here on assignment.”

T’onga’s face goes pale for a moment, as she feigns surprise, “Is that so? Like, for Brother Dust? Hold on, is… is it safe for me to be here right now?”

“You tell me,” the younger woman replies, glancing up at her.

“Hey,” the scarred woman says, raising her hands defensively, “If you’re working, I don’t wanna get caught up in anything. I know Dust and All-Kill are staying out of each other’s ways at the moment. Last thing I need is an earful from All-Kill, you know?”

“T’onga,” Knowles says, pulling the knot of her skates tightly and standing to full height with a sneer, “I know you killed Phantasma. And I know you’re here to do the same to Dust.”

A cloud moves in the way of the sun, covering everything in shade for a moment. Convention goers continue on their idle path around the plaza, not paying any mind to the two women. Everything in T’onga Kim’s being tenses for a split second, before her composure returns.

“What…? What are you talking about?!” she exclaims, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Knowles demands, a face contorting into a strange kind of smirk. “All-Kill’s been planning to off Dust for years, ever since they first met. Soon as he got his hands on you, it was only a matter of time. I was left out here to wait for you so that wouldn’t happen.”

“Listen,” T’onga says in as benevolent a tone as she can produce, “Whatever Dust has told you isn’t any of my business, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m here to check out the convention, that’s all. What you’re saying makes no sense! Sure, Dust and All-Kill got into some bad shit back in the day, but they’ve been partners for almost 20 years now! We’re on the same side!”

“That’s right. We are on the same side,” the younger woman says, sweeping the dreads off of her face. She rolls towards T’onga, keeping her eyes fixed on her face. “Dust is dealing with the Joestar princess right now in Convention Hall E, underground. Once he’s done with her, he’ll be coming after All-Kill. And he left me out here to guard the way in, for when you showed up.”

“Joestar?… Why are you telling me this?” she narrows her eyes.

“Why? Why? Why else?! Because I’m sick of that high and mighty son of a bitch! Just like you! You gotta be tired of All-Kill pushing you around, right, sister? You gotta be as tired as I am of being used by their kind!”

“‘Their kind’? What, priests?”

“NO, NOT PRIESTS!!” Knowles shouts, the volume of her voice suddenly shooting up, then dropping into a vitriolic growl. “Men. All my life, getting pushed around, hated on, oppressed by one man after another. They're the enemy, girl. They keep us down, because they're afraid of our power. They're so scared, they'll do anything to keep us down. But that's the trick, ain't it? We let them think we're quiet and obedient, prim little ladies. And then, soon as their backs are turned: that's when we hit them. But I don't need to tell you that, right? After your thing in Japan.”

T’onga’s expression turns momentarily into a scowl, but the look disappears almost instantly. “... So what do you want?”

“Same thing you want. Brother Dust dead.”

The scarred woman searches her eyes, and can find no lie in them. No doubt, just pure, hot-blooded conviction. “... Then would you mind checking if all the doors are shut in, where did you say? Hall E? Since it’s underground, there are no windows, but just to be on the safe side… I’m not saying I couldn’t have done it without you, but All-Kill will reward you for your assistance.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“... Huh?” T’onga blinks, then squints, then says it again. “What?!”

“Didn't I tell you?” Knowles says, her smirk turning into more of a snarl, “I'm sick and tired of being pushed round by these men. Even if I helped you now, all I'd get would be a position under All-Kill, another man. I'm done being oppressed. I'll kill Dust in my own time, sister, on my own terms.

Not to mention, you're the one that killed Phantasma. You thought I was just to let that go? I respected that woman more than anyone else in the fucking world. She stood against a world dominated by men, and spat in their faces. I'm gonna make you pay for taking her away.”

T’onga’s mind races. “…This doesn’t make any sense. If you’re going to kill me, then why would you bother telling me all this?!”

“You might be lying, treacherous scum, but you’re still a sister. You at least deserve an explanation before you die!” She rocks into a stance then, balancing perfectly on her roller skates. Knowles crosses her arms in front of her face, fists in front of her face, and yells “SMOOTH CRIMINAL!!”

A pair of white and shiny gloves appear on her hands, bedazzling like crystals, as she swings them down to her feet and slaps the roller skates.

Suddenly, the roar of an engine can be heard coming from her skates, as they blast away, Knowles heading straight towards T’onga. The pure speed and intensity catches T’onga off guard.

T’onga brings out HOUSE OF PAIN, but it’s too late as Knowles slams her fist in T’onga’s gut, the older gang member gagging. As she skates past, she reaches for the ground and turns her body, gearing up for another pass.

As T’onga turns to face her attacker, she gets punched in the face, sending her flying. She lands two feet away, at which point she raises her fists, trying to defend whenever Knowles comes back.

[sunflowergrenades]

A Mile in My Shoes: Chapter One

Tears gathered in the wide eyes of the little green skinned girl as her bottom lip quivered violently. She searched her friends' faces for a hint that they were joking but she was coming up blank.

"Why can't I come with you, Yuki? I'm your friend too, right?"

"We're gonna be inside today. You're too loud and wild. My mom gets mad at me every time you come over." the blue haired girl replied, rolling her eyes.

Hana took a step forward, clenching the stuffed orca in her arms tightly "I'll do better this time! I'll -."

"You always say that! Just go home, Hana. You'll just get in the way."

The other two girls began laughing as Hana's tears poured down faster and she ran off in shame. Her scrawny legs carried her as far as they could to her apartment. As the door swung open, it collided with the wall heatedly which drew her mother’s attention from the kitchen. Hina sighed deeply as her oldest child looked up from his phone with a biting glare.

“If that little shit doesn’t quit making my baby sis cry, I’m gonna -!”

“Stand down. I got this. You just keep my soup from burning.” his mother instructed before going into the living room to find her only daughter curled up on the couch.

“Why am I so annoying?” Hana whimpered into her knee as she trembled under Hina’s loving touch.

“Says who? Yuki Watanabe? That kid is a spoiled brat. Her mommy and daddy can buy her anything but some damn manners.”

“No one at school likes me because I’m so hyper. I try to keep in it but I can’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have to! You’re hilarious, Jellybean! You’re so much fun. You keep me and your brother rolling with laughter. We won’t change anything.”

Hana stayed curled up in her dejected ball until Hina laughed softly. She looked up a little at her mother to see that she was looking at the television. They rarely watched the news but it must have come on while they were cooking. A rescue was going on the screen with a hero she’d never seen before. With his orca features and large frame, he quickly got the attention of little Hana who was wiping the last few tears from her eyes.

“Who’s that hero, Mama?”

“His name’s Gang Orca. I figured you’d like him because you’ve always been into weird stuff.” Yosuke replied from behind the couch.

Hina scoffed as she looked back, “You let my soup burn and I’m tossing you into it, little troll.”

“Cool your jets. I turned it down.”

“That’s what I want to do when I grow up!” Hana exclaimed unexpectedly as she got to her feet.

“What, burn soup? You’re already good at that, JB.” Yosuke teased.

“Huh? No! I meant what he’s doing on T.V! I wanna do that!”

“You want to be a pro hero?” Hina asked, sitting forward with her hands on her cheeks. “Well, you'd be super interesting to watch, that’s for sure.”

“Seriously? Hana, a hero? She’s too goofy. She’s not cut out for -. What am I worrying for? You change your mind every five minutes. You wanted to be an astronaut two days ago.” Yosuke grumbled as he returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t listen to your brother, Sunlight. He’s just mad that his grades aren’t good enough to get into U.A’s support class program.”

“Can’t hear you over the sound of me throwing this soup into the yard!”

“You brat, your laptop’ll follow it out there!” she screamed as she jumped over the back of the sofa to go save her food from her son’s bitterness.

Hana giggled softly as she turned her attention back to the news broadcast. Yeah, being a hero would be awesome. But heroes always had costumes and stuff, right? She pursed her lips for a second in thought before running down the hallway and getting her crayons. Who better than to design an outfit for her Quirk than her.

Time flies when you’re having fun and the hyper seven year old soon turned into a bouncy fifteen year old. To her brother’s astonishment, Hana’s hero dream never burned out like the others. Planning her campaign for president only lasted a week and it was one of the longest run schemes that she had. Despite thinking this was a dim-witted plan, he still determined to make sure that his rambunctious sibling didn’t repeat her bad habit of sleeping through her alarms.

“Hey, are you up yet?”

Hana, who was currently wrapped up in her fuzzy pink blanket, groaned loudly without making any movement. She was absolutely not planning on getting out of this criminally comfortable bed. The deep-toned but noticeably annoyed voice from the bottom of the stairs clearly disagreed with that plan.

"Some hero you are! You can’t even make it to school on time!"

That got a quick reaction as Hana popped up and promptly fell out of her bed with an undignified squawk. Once finally unraveling from her warm cocoon, she darted to the closet to get her clothes and found that her uniform had rudely fallen to the floor. As she dusted it off, she ran to the bathroom and hung it on the back of the door. She quickly brushed her teeth, ruffled her onyx pixie cut with her fingers for some texture, and put in her silver star earrings. She raked her long bang out of her face as she inspected her face for imperfections.

As she got herself presentable, the oldest Ishikawa child stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster before fastening up the Gang Orca lunch on the counter and putting in that ragged, ugly pink backpack with unicorns all over that his sister refused to replace for some reason. Surely, it should be qualified for retirement after all these years, right?

But Hana wasn't one to throw out much of anything. She was the textbook definition of a sentimental fool. Yosuke wasn't exactly sure where she had even picked up that habit but she was almost religious about keeping anything close to 'important'. 

“Hana! Move it or lose it, runt!" he yelled again as he put some strawberry jam on the nearly burnt toast.

"Don't call me a runt, jerk face. I already told you that everyone else is just too tall!" she shouted from upstairs.

He heard something crash its way down the stairs with a loud bang and sighed deeply. "What was that?"

"My shirt!"

"That was way too damn heavy to be a damn shirt." he huffed back, looking at his phone.

As she came around the corner, she was hopping on one foot attempting to tie a glittery silver tennis shoe while standing. "Well, I was still wearing it."

He rolled his eyes before grabbing her leg mid-hop which nearly sent her to the floor. He put the sole of her shoe on his leg and started tying it for her. She wrinkled her nose in frustration, to which he replied with a thump to the forehead.

"You're gonna break your damn neck." he scolded.

"You worry too much. I'm tough enough to handle whatever life throws at me." she scoffed back proudly.

Yosuke looked at his younger sibling with overwhelming skepticism. At an unimpressive five feet tall, puberty had seemingly forgotten to visit the poor girl. She was thin as a rail and still had a baby face with a button nose and big sapphire eyes. All that paired with her narrow frame, small breasts, and a high pitched voice, no one ever believed she was actually her age.

"Whatever you say, kid." He sighed as he gave her the toast and held out her backpack.

She shoved a piece of her breakfast halfway into her mouth, slung her bag onto her shoulder, and headed to the door.

"What? No 'thank you'?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Toast could have been darker honestly." she said, shrugging lightly.

"You can't just eat charcoal, Jellybean."

She blushed slightly, pink lighting up her mint green skin. "I told you to quit calling me that!"

"But you're small, cute, and eat nothing but candy. You're our little jellybean and always will be. It's better than that shit you used to call me."

"And that's my cue to leave." She scoffed as she opened the door.

"Have fun today, JB. I gotta work late tonight so you'll be having way more fun than me." he called out as he waved to her.

"Yikes. Better you than me. Don't forget your wallet this time." she said, exiting the apartment.

"Got it. Love you, brat."

The door clicked but immediately swung back open so she could yell back "Love you too." before finally leaving.

She wasn't sure what she did to get such bad karma but she deeply regretted whatever it was because now she was sprinting to class as fast as she could. She had missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one, so she was even more late now. As she ran, she tried to finish putting the shoe that had fallen off when she tripped down the stairs a moment ago. Seriously, what was gravity's problem today?

She finally reached the door and straightened herself up before grabbing the knob. Opening the door to the classroom, she was greeted by the very unhappy face of her home room teacher.

“Morning, Mr. Aizawa.” she mumbled, ducking her head like an anxious pup.

“Nice of you to join us, Ishikawa.” he sighed deeply. "Now as I was saying, you'll be wearing the hero outfits based on the designs you submitted."

Hana immediately lit up and the second they could get their outfits, she pushed her way to the first and snatched the case with her seat number on it. As she ran off excitedly, Ashido looked at Tokoyami who was shaking his head slightly. He was her designated best friend since the first day of school so he usually ended up playing translator for the jittery girl.

"You'll have to forgive Ishikawa's impatience." He lamented. "From my understanding, she designed that outfit when she was a little girl and she's been talking about it all week."

"That's actually sort of adorable." Ashido tittered.

"I'm honestly curious to see what she’s created." Tokoyami replied, grabbing his own case and leaving the room.

As the upcoming heroes stepped out in their new costumes, Hana couldn't stop smiling and looking down. It was perfectly in line with her drawing.

The black one piece had a turtleneck and featured a cutout of a sun around her belly button. Squiggly cuts around it made the rays. The holes for her legs were cut high and displayed part of her hips. It laid her skinny shoulders bare and was visibly backless with only her backside covered. Her shoes were simple black ballet flats with a thick ribbon around either ankle. Her hands were covered up by a pair of yellow finger-less gloves. Finally, her eyes were protected by a square, yellow visor that faintly resembled work safety glasses. For added flair, she'd topped the outfit with a headband with a yellow over-sized bow that poked up like bunny ears.

She glanced over at Midoriya and giggled as she waved her hand at him eagerly. "Hey, Deku! Look! We match!" She said, pointing from her bow to his suits 'ears'.

He blushed slightly and nodded. "Y-yeah, I guess we do, huh?"

If Bakugou’s crimson eyes could use his quirk, Ishikawa would have exploded three times by now. They were digging into the back of her head. Hana seemed to feel his eyes on her and looked over her shoulder to see him glaring at her unapologetically.

Ah, yes. Bakugou and his famous attitude. She'd managed to be at least on speaking terms with all her classmates. The exceptions were Todoroki who gave her the cold shoulder (pun absolutely intended) and the furious blonde. Every single time she got the least bit friendly with Bakugou, he’d buck like a wild stallion. What he didn't realize was that his bitterness only made it more fun for his ridiculously headstrong classmate. He'd made the mistake of making it a game and she wasn't about to lose.

"Like my outfit?” she asked, twirling around jubilantly.

He scoffed and looked away from her. The answer was… maybe? It was admittedly a cool design. She needed a lot of skin showing to make her Quirk work its best but something extremely revealing would have been out of character for her. She had figured out how to balance the modesty she needed with the design her power required on his own? That was kind of cool. She still looked like a little brat though. That was probably less about the outfit and more about that silly grin plastered on her face.

"Well, I love yours!" She said. "The grenades are super badass."

His eyes widened slightly as he looked back at her slightly. Why was she suddenly complimenting him? She usually spent the majority of her time teasing and provoking him. Their bickering sessions started from the first day at U.A. Bakugou was at his desk with his feet propped up as he insulted pretty much anything that moved when petite little Hana walked by.

As soon as she walked by, he noticed her stockings had cat faces on them. Naturally, he scoffed loudly. "When did they start letting little kids take classes here?"

She stopped mid-step and looked over her shoulder. "About the same time they started letting in annoying jackasses."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU SHRIMP?"

She spun around and slammed her hands on his desk as she tilted her head to the side. He raised an eyebrow at her. Was this girl actually going to try and pick a fight?

Never breaking eye contact, she smiled jeeringly as she replied, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me say it a little louder for you. You're acting like a jackass."

"Keep running that mouth and I'll hang our tiny ass from the ceiling!"

"Sweetie, you'd have to catch me first." she scoffed, poking his nose playfully.

Midoriya, who was watching this train wreck from behind the wall, exhaled deeply. It was their first day and Kacchan was about to commit a felony. Sure enough, the blonde went off and threw around some interestingly detailed threats.

She stood there taking his insults with a genuinely amused look on her face until he took a step toward her. She closed her eyes as her body emitted a blinding yellowish white light. Bakugou covered his eyes and stumbled back a little.

"SHIT, WHAT THE HELL, YOU LITTLE -!"

"My name is Hana Ishikawa." she replied, calmly as if she didn't just flash-bang the entire class. "Nice to meet you. Don't worry, the burning stops after 30 seconds."

With that, she skipped to her seat and sat down. Midoriya watched cautiously as Bakugou rubbed his stringing eyes and growled loudly. From that moment forward, every time they made eye contact, someone usually got detention.

All Might was the teacher today and Hana couldn't stop laughing at just how electrified Midoriya was. She was pretty excited too, but she was always that way about something. She was the kind of person who sat by the mailbox when her package was out for delivery and cheered for the mailman when he showed up.

What really tickled her was how pumped up Bakugou got when the words 'combat training' came out of All Might's mouth. It got an actual giggle out of her.

"Ishikawa will be with Todoroki on team B."

"Yay! Dude, I'm so excited. I love your dad. He's my second favorite pro!" Hana shouted out loudly as she bounced up and down.

Todoroki immediately rolled his eyes at her joyful reaction. Why did he have to get stuck with the class crazy lady? It was going to be a long day.

The first teams up were "villains" Bakugou and Iida vs Midoriya and Uraraka. The other other students were watching from a secondary location on a big screen. Things were already off to a bad start because Bakugou clearly had no intention of listening or cooperating. Like now, for example, he'd run off to find Midoriya and 'deal' with him, despite Iida's blatant disapproval.

"Well, I see Baku is doing whatever Baku wants and I'm sure you're all as shocked as I am." Hana said with a sarcastic tone as she put another strawberry pocky stick in her mouth.

"What is he thinking?" Tokoyami asked, shaking his head. "He's being completely irrational."

"Honestly, Yami, I'm guessing there's not much really going on in that head of his." Hana replied.

On the screen, Bakugou found his prey and was currently doing everything in his power to stomp him into the dirt. Asui made a comment about him being a good villain which unexpectedly grabbed Hana's attention.

"Whoa, that's a little harsh, Froggy."

Bakugou had lost track of Midoriya who had run away for his safety. Even through a screen, his hatred was almost visible in the air.

"That doesn't seem villainous to you?" Todoroki asked, pointing at the screen where Bakugou was apparently screaming some heavy threats at Deku as he searched for him.

"Look, I'm not justifying it but there's clearly something going on there that we don't know."

"Like what?" he asked flatly.

"Heck, I don't know! I'm not a therapist. Everyone's got a demon or two in them though, right?" She replied quickly.

Tokoyami looked over at her slightly and noticed that her eyes were locked on the blonde with a look of what seemed to be growing curiosity.

"Gotta admire his determination though. Even if his cheese has completely slid off his cracker."

"I think you're being naïve." Todoroki said under his breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened as she looked over at him slightly. Her hands balled into fists slowly by her sides.

"I'm sorry? Did I ask for your opinion on my personality?"

"With one as spastic as yours, you should be used to it."

"Spastic?! Listen, I don't -!"

"You'll kill him!"

All Might's thunderous voice made her jump as her eyes shot back to the screen. They quickly widened as Bakugou's hand ripped the pin from his grenade gauntlet with wild abandon.

"Dude, what are you doing?" She asked under her breath.

"How about now, Ishikawa? Does murder count as 'villainous'?" Todoroki scoffed.

"Seriously, Baku? Pull yourself together." She whispered, mostly to herself.

Midoriya used his Quirk to destroy several floors at once and Bakugou looked as if he'd seen a ghost. No, that wasn't enough to describe the level of horror in those wide ruby eyes.

Hana didn't see that uncommon expression as she walked to the back of the room and pulled out another pocky stick. She munched on it as she let her forehead rest on the cold metal wall. The thought of everyone watching her mess up was making her stomach queasy.

"Is everything alright? You seem a bit bothered by what just happened." Tokoyami asked from behind him.

She sighed deeply and painted her smile on her face, but it didn't hold anything close to genuinely positive. "Nah, I'm okay. Just a little performance anxiety. That's all."

"Well, it's our turn so I would try to shake those nerves if I were you." Todoroki stated while walking by.

"Sure thing, Ace." She mumbled as she followed.

She wasn't entirely sure she could handle much more of Todoroki's bitterness today but for the sake of the assignment, she was willing to try. At least, she was before they actually got to the building.

"You stay here. You'll only get in the way."

Her heart started banging on her rib cage angrily as his words unlocked a door in the back of her mind. Once again, she was just a little eight year old on the playground with her feelings on her sleeve. No, no more. Never again. Her teeth grit painfully as she ran to catch up with Todoroki. She grabbed his arm but he quickly shrugged her off.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he looked back at her.

"Just because your dad is a pro doesn't mean that you get to talk down to me like that! I'm a big fan of your dad's but I'm not just going to let you -."

"Let's just focus on the assignment, alright?" He interrupted before continuing toward the building. "You and I aren't on the same level. It's for your benefit that you stay down here."

As he disappeared into the entrance, she growled under her breath. Get in the way? No, she worked like crazy to get here! Some little rich kid wasn't gonna tell her what to do. It was sunny today so her Quirk was working wonderfully. The more sunlight, the more useful she was.The others watched as she created a yoga ball sized orb in between her hands. She processed to climb on top of it as it floated up to the window. Hana had a tendency to whatever she wanted, especially when told not to do something. While that attitude could bring interesting results at times, it also meant that despite her friendly attitude, Hana's teamwork skills were completely terrible.

She attempted to jump to her target window but the ball slipped out from under her. She gasped loudly as she clung to the ledge forcefully.

"I swear if I fall, my ghost is gonna haunt you, Ace!"

"I can't watch! Tell me when she's made it." Uraraka said, covering her eyes with worry.

"I like her fearlessness but that cooperation could use some serious improvement." All Might mumbled as he watched her finally climb through the window.

Her target barely even had time to notice her before the floor froze solid. Ice raced up her legs only to stop mid calf. She stared at it for a moment with rage boiling ever faster in her veins.

"I told you to stay outside for a reason."

She was visibly shaking with anger but was breathing in deeply. Tears stung her eyes as she bent down to melt the ice from her legs

"Man, I won't ever want Ishikawa to look at me the way she's looking at Todoroki right now." Kaminari laughed under his breath.

"She's normally so laid back." Asui noted.

"She's probably feeling a little embarrassed. She went through all of that effort for nothing. That's a bit of an ego bruiser, don't you think?" Tokoyami said, looking at the currently fuming Hana.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. His eyes wandered up to the screen and he noticed that as the ice melted off her legs, she crossed her arms and stormed out of the room. He was having a shitty day to say the least but for some reason, that little pouty march of shame of hers made him laugh.

Okay, maybe not laugh laugh. Just that thing where you blow air out of your nose kinda hard in amusement? She came back into the room and noticed him staring a little. Her left hand came to rest on her hip as she tilted her head to the side.

"Hey there, Baku. You feeling better after all that? I know I always feel bushy-tailed after a homicidal rampage." She said, playfully.

"You expect me to believe a little runt like you can go on a rampage?" He huffed, looking away. "What do you do? Throw your toys?"

"Oh, my wittle heart!" She laughed as she threw her arm over her face dramatically. "You're so cruel to me, dude."

"You're just a pansy, Sunspot." He huffed.

He noticed that lazy, amused grin slowly spread back over her pastel face like butter on warm toast. The second he took a breath to ask what that stupid look was about, she cut him off.

"Sunspot? Seriously?" She snorted playfully. "Oh, I get it! Because of my yellow freckles across my face, right? Dude, that's actually kinda cute."

"Whatever, loser." He growled back at her, sulking over the fact that she made an intended insult into a damn pet name.

She bounced away to go talk to Uraraka. Now that she thought about it, maybe today wasn't all bad.

[inspired-by-the-music]

Chapter 2: An Arrangement 

Ae-Young’s POV

Before I ever left for college, even before my brother, Heechul, enrolled in law school, Dad insisted upon having a weekly family dinner. Ever since Mom left— which happened almost before I could remember— Dad craved some kind of intimacy with us that he could barely fit into his busy work schedule. So it didn’t matter that I was physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted from the journey home— I couldn’t skip dinner in favor of a nap. 

Heechul said unsympathetically, “You should have taken me up on my offer to drive you home after the graduation ceremony.”

I don’t know what prompted him to speak to me. One minute, I had been drifting to sleep upright in my chair and likely drooling onto the white lace placemat; the next, I had to react to my brother’s bug-eyed stare. 

“As if I’d even consider getting into a car with you after that drunken speech you gave at dinner.” I stretched as I talked. 

“Yah!” He kicked me under the table. “Don’t call my heartfelt congratulations drunken!” When I didn’t apologize, he added, “Besides, that night was the first time I drank in my whole life.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t bite back laughter as he chugged a dark red wine he yanked out of Dad’s cooler shortly after arriving. “I see. So now you can’t imagine life without—”

He interrupted to complain. “Don’t you think Dad could be bothered to show up on time? He schedules these dinners, and he’s always the last one here.”

Yes— as fatigue washed over me, I wished Dad would hurry so I could faceplant into bed ASAP— but I didn’t like to complain about him. Heechul wouldn’t want to hear me explain what he already knew (that Dad likely got caught up in something important at the firm and was now probably stuck in downtown traffic) — so I decided to shrug and scroll through Instagram. 

Just as Heechul opened his mouth to tease me for being a Daddy’s Girl, Dad came through the front door. As he took his hat and coat off and walked them and his briefcase to his study, he called, “Sorry I’m late— I’ve told you two countless times the stresses of running the most successful Korean law firm— Don’t worry, I’ll just come to eat in my work clothes— Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer— Ae-Young—”

As he stepped into the dining room, I rose, assuming that he intended to greet me even though I saw him just a week ago for the graduation. He swiftly concluded, “Put your phone away— No electronics at the table.”

Ignoring Heechul’s giggles, which were drowned by another gulp of stolen wine, I tucked my phone into my pocket and promised, “I’m sorry, Dad.”

Heechul’s amusement at my scolding quickly lost to his all-consuming craving for attention. As Dad settled into the seat at the head of the mahogany table too large for three, Heechul said, “Don’t be too hard on our little graduate. She was just gonna perform a little welfare check on you— you know, to make sure you didn’t fall in the office like old folks sometimes do. We would’ve come to help if you couldn’t get up.”

Dad replied, eyes narrowing in either annoyance, fondness, or a combination of the two, “You joke about my age, Son, without realizing that as I mature, you do too. Or at least your body does.”

While I howled at dad’s implication that Heechul was man-child, while Heechul struggled to retort for the first time in his life, the chef Dad hired soon after Mom left wordlessly dropped off some kind of seafood. After piling some onto my plate, I picked at it curiously. I wasn’t picky; I was just the opposite, actually. I couldn’t recognize even my favorite dish to save my life, and I knew better than to ask the chef. He would mistake my innocent question for criticism. Whatever was on my plate, I decided, was delicious as soon as it touched my tongue. 

“Ae-Young,” Dad called. I looked at him and chewed my mouthful as fast as I could. “Why did you take so long to get home?”

I reddened at the reminder that I had graduated a week ago. I hadn’t been ready to abandon my independence. The day after the ceremony, I rejected separate offers from Dad and Heechul to be driven home and focused instead on promoting myself around town in the hope of scoring a job so I could afford an apartment in the city. Jobs for a recently graduated photography student were slimmer than I allowed myself to dream. 

It wasn’t the embarrassment of unemployment that struck me silent. Dad would be proud to hear how I tried, regardless of the results. He would never admit it, but learning that I didn’t want to come home would hurt his feelings. He was a strong man— tall and broad with a strong jaw and permanently arched eyebrows. I always imagined that the criminals he prosecuted trembled at his stern appearance before he ever got to use his sharpened wit against them. So why did I treat him so delicately, as if he would break from something I said? 

I had to say something, though. He was blinking at me expectantly. “I was busy, um, tying up loose ends.”

Kindly, as if merely interested in how I chose to spend my week, Dad asked, “What loose ends?”

Before I could answer that I had been helping my best friend, Key, move into a new apartment— which was a half-truth— Heechul answered, “Don’t you know, Dad? That’s a part of how young people talk today. It’s code.”

“Code?” Dad pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Swallowing some of the fish, he looked and Heechul and questioned, “Code for what?”

I knew Heechul was just running his mouth and that it wouldn’t lead anywhere that interesting, but I cut my eyes at him and repeated, “Yeah. Code for what?”

“Obviously, Dad,” Heechul pointed at me as he accused, “Ae-Young was breaking off some university fling, but not after a few nights of passionate—”

I cut him off by flicking some of my fish— shrimp, maybe— at him and hissing, “Shut up! You’re so gross!”

Dad started with a tired, “Kids, please,” and he ended with an only slightly playful, “You better have broken up with your little fling, Ae-Young.”

Those days, I was too sensitive about my complete lack of romantic life. Defensively, I argued, “There was no fling, Heechul is just stupid. And if there was a fling, why should we have to break up just because I graduated?”

“Yeesh.” Heechul stabbed at his food, grumbling, “What a drama queen.”

Perhaps sensing that my temper was flaring, Dad said calmly, “Heechul— it’s about that time in the evening where I ask you to drink quietly while I discuss serious matters with your sister.”

I knew Heechul thought Dad liked me better. Even now that we were both adults— I was 22 and Heechul was 36— Dad couldn’t decide whether to treat us like the children he knew or adults we were. The inconsistency didn’t bother me so much because I loved Dad as the only parent I had ever really known. When Dad would dismiss Heechul’s silly comments, he would whisper something like, ‘Mom would never.’

He didn’t do that anymore. He took a long sip of his wine and avoided my gaze. 

“I’ve been thinking—” Dad said to me as I flinched out of my memories. “It’s about time you get married.”

Heechul spat out his wine in a spray across the table and spoke when I was speechless. “Well, that’s sudden. Don’t you think she’s too young for that? I mean, I’m not even married yet!” 

“We can’t expect Ae-Young to wait until miracles happen to get on with her life,” Dad responded, and Heechul shrank.

Heechul’s outburst empowered me to say, “Look, Dad, I’ll be on the prowl for a husband if it’s so important to you, but I’m a little more invested in finding a job—”

“You already have a job,” Dad replied simply. “Now that you’re home and Mrs. Choi retired, you can be my secretary.”

Before I could filter my response, I said, “No— I mean a real job.” Thankfully, he wasn’t offended; his brow furrowed in confusion, though, so I said, “I want a job as a photographer. I majored in photography, remember?”

“Yes, I remember.” He shifted slightly in his seat and straightened his tie. “I don’t know much about that field; the law firm has been in the family for generations, and nobody strayed until—” He subconsciously looked at Heechul, whose gaze hardened, but he clarified, “I don’t blame either of you for pursuing your dreams. Your happiness will always be my primary concern— and that goes for both of you.” 

He wasn’t satisfied to continue his speech until Heechul and I swore that we knew that. Then, he told me, “I know everything you dream of will come true. If it doesn’t, it won’t be for a lack of effort, and you’ll still have a family who will take care of you. But I won’t always be around to—”

I shook my head. It was impossible to imagine a world without Dad. Just the thought sickened me, so I begged, “Don’t talk like that.” 

He strictly maintained, “It’s the truth, Ae-Young. As your brother reminds me weekly, I’m not getting any younger—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Heechul interjected, but Dad didn’t acknowledge him. 

“— And what will happen to you two? You can’t inherit the firm since you’re not lawyers. Then what about your children? What will their futures be?” He reached for my hand, but he was too far away as he swore, “I’m not just trying to marry you off to any person in search of a wife. And if my selection is too terrible, I’ll call the whole thing off.”

Simultaneously, Heechul and I shrieked, “You already chose someone?” and destroyed the diplomatic environment our father tried to create.

“Typical,” Heechul seethed and slammed his glass down. “If you were gonna set one of us up, why couldn’t it be me? I’m the firstborn, I haven’t had a girlfriend in, like, six months, my standards are a hell of a lot lower than Miss Graduate’s—”

“You went to undergraduate school too, you moron! We’ve received the same amount of education—”

“Children, please!” Dad never rose his voice, so Heechul and I instantly hushed. “If I knew anybody you liked, Heechul, you naturally would have been my choice for the arranged marriage. You are older and therefore may feel entitled to own the firm—”

Smirking, Heechul disagreed. “No, I just want a hot lawyer wife.”

Dad and I had learned a necessary skill: knowing when to go deaf to Heechul. He continued, “And I worried that at your age, you wouldn’t appreciate your father telling you what to do about something so. . . intimate.”

Heechul didn’t especially appreciate parental guidance at any age, so Dad was right to worry about that. How long has he been thinking about this? I frowned. And why is he only bringing up now? 

“So you chose a husband for Ae-Young just because she’s more obedient?”

Dad wouldn’t release me from his stare as he said, “I don’t take this lightly— asking you to abandon your freedom so I can breathe easy knowing that you will be taken care of when I’m gone. You’ve always been a free spirit. I could see you dancing barefoot in the garden from my study when you were just a little girl. Do you remember that?”

I remembered dancing in the garden, but I never knew he watched me. I nodded quietly. 

He said, “I’m not being completely selfish. I never would have brought his up if I didn’t know the perfect person to protect you—”

Heechul impatiently demanded, “Who is it?”

Dad answered, “Kyuhyun.”

I didn’t get to prepare myself— I didn’t even fully wrap my mind around Dad’s speech— I didn’t know what to say other than “Kyuhyun?”

Heechul relaxed in his seat as if he had been truly worried and the name of that family friend dispelled those worries. “That’s not so bad, Ae-Young. You’ve always liked him.”

My heart was beating me to death. I couldn’t hear as I countered, “I can’t marry Kyuhyun. I haven’t seen him in the last four years— and now our first conversation has to be about this? I can’t believe you asked him to marry me!”

“Now, isn’t four years a bit of a dramatization?” Dad shook his head, disbelieving. “You must have seen him at the Christmas parties!” “For some reason, Dad,” Heechul winked, “I think we should trust Ae-Young. She would remember the last time she saw Kyuhyun.”

My heart thundered at Heechul’s teasing. “Why would you ever ask him to marry me?” I asked again; I stood as if that would make the question impossible to ignore. 

I expected another speech about how Kyuhyun was the best lawyer at the firm, how he was unfailingly honest and morally upright in every sense, how he had always been a great young man, how he had the advantage of being the son of Dad’s lifelong best friend—

I expected to hear him sing Kyuhyun’s praises as he had done my entire life. Instead, he answered softly, “I know you loved him.”

My affection for Kyuhyun existed since the moment we met— which, I’ve been told, occurred a few days after I was first born— and it resided in the innermost part of my heart, in a place I hadn’t visited in years. To be taken there so forcibly and with no warning was overwhelming. Humiliating. I felt naked, exposed, and embarrassed that I was overreacting. 

Because my feet were frozen numb, I slid back into my chair and stared blankly at my half-cleared plate.

Dad’s shoulders fell, and Heechul didn’t say anything.

“I thought you would be happy with him. Did I misunderstand the time you cried to me after the New Years’ party?”

Dad was referring to something that happened when I was a teenager. I can’t remember exactly how old I was, but I have never forgotten the red-hot scalding shock when I found Kyuhyun’s longtime girlfriend kissing some stranger on the balcony. I never wanted to tell anyone what I had seen, but the words tumbled out of my mouth. 

“Well, that’s how these things go sometimes, I’m afraid,” he tried to teach me. He ran a thumb along his empty ring ringer the way he always did when he thought of Mom. “Passion drives people to do hurtful things. Even passionate love can leave scars.”

 I refused to accept it. “Nobody should hurt him like that. He deserves everything good in the world. And what do I do now? Do I have to tell him? Do I have to break his heart when that’s the last thing I want to do?”

“These things always come out in the end,” Dad claimed as he pulled me into his side. “The truth always comes to light, whether good or bad.”

I never told Heechul, and he seemed to know better than to ask. “No,” I admitted, “You didn’t misunderstand. But that was so long ago, Dad. Who knows what has changed?”

“Who knows?” Dad shrugged. Sagely, the thought aloud, “I think if you loved somebody once— and I mean true admiration, not childish infatuations— you will love them always.”

Then Heechul, who had been quiet for too long, asserted his presence once more. “Wait a minute. Isn’t Kyuhyun, like, way older than Ae-Young?”

Without thinking, I answered, “He’s 10 years my senior.”

“I don’t think that matters,” Dad said. Glancing at me, he added, “I understand that like most young women, you want a romance that makes you swoon, but there are many kinds of forever loves in this world. I want that happiness for you— none of the temporary pleasures and scars.”

Dad took advantage of mine and Heechul’s silence as we considered his wisdom to say, “I hope you both adjust to this idea by next Friday evening because Kyuhyun will be joining us for dinner.”

I decided immediately that I would have to reunite with Kyuhyun before then. Seeing him for the first time four years— as my fiancé— with Heechul and Dad as an audience sounded like a nightmare.

The only way I knew to contact him was to call his office on Monday morning. Of course, I was struck by the complete lack of professionalism on my part, but I didn’t actually regret dialing the number until his assistant answered. 

I forget his greeting. All I remember is the terror that seized my body when he asked, “May I receive your name and reason for calling Cho Kyuhyun’s office?”

I stuttered, “I— um— my name is Kim Ae-Young.” I knew he wouldn’t recognize me as the firm owner’s daughter. Even if he did, that wouldn’t explain why I was calling Kyuhyun’s office. There was no option except to breathe deeply and adapt to the situation. “I’m Kyuhyun’s fiancé, and I’m calling to discuss an, uh, urgent personal matter.”

There was a three-minute pause before he said, “Okay. I’ll connect you.”

[yurivil]

Tails of St. Vesperia

Unfinished TOV mermaid AU no one asked for that’s been sitting on my computer for 8 years and I totally forgot about it until TOV:DE was released and I fell back into TOV hell. Will 100% never be finished and if someone wants to take the reins to this fic have at it. I like slow burn Fluri so this is mostly self indulgent. 

Tails of St. Vesperia

Rating: T for language

Characters: PS3/DE main cast (Flynn & Yuri main)

Pairings: Undecided 

Genre: Fantasy/Adventure/Drama

Warnings: AU, spoilers for Patty’s past. 

Summary: Flynn, a student at the University of St. Vesperia, was surprised that Headmaster Dionia wanted to see him. He was even more surprised to find out why. “The Headmaster wants to see me so he can show me a fish?” 

Magic!College AU

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Nets. They entangled his limbs, restricting his flailing attempts to free himself. Part of his panicked mind was vaguely aware of being tugged upwards. No. He couldn’t be seen. He had to get away, back to –Hell, anywhere but here. The man thrashed violently, only succeeding in entangling himself more. A sharp cold was suddenly present on his back. 

‘…Damn!’ 

They had managed to pull him to the surface. The warmth of the water was suddenly completely gone, the chilled air taking its place. In desperation, he used his freed hand to try shoving away from the hull of the boat. His arm was suddenly grabbed and jerked upwards, yanking him into the boat only to land hard on the deck. 

“--ty, get back!” A gruff voice yelled.

Pushing himself off the deck, he managed to glimpse through the net. He caught sight of a small blonde girl with striking blue eyes and a… pirate hat? There was a piercing pain on the back of his head. And everything went black. 

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Flynn was surprised. Never in his years at the University of St. Vesperia had he received such an urgent request for his presence directly from the Headmaster. Well, he had. But only for last minute check ups on things such as arranging homecoming, speaking at ceremonies, and giving financial reports of clubs. Those were to be expected of any student council president.  He walked briskly across the campus, freshly frosted grass crunching under his feet, eager to complete whatever task he presumed Headmaster Dionia would ask of him. 

Rounding a corner, the aquarium facility came into full view. He couldn’t figure out why the Headmaster would ask to see him here of all places. The blond shivered, pulling his uniform jacket closer as he made his way across the parking lot. The facility’s size never failed to impress him. Next to law and medical degrees, St. Vesperia also specialized heavily in marine biology. This was said to be due to the former headmaster Cypher’s influence. Now retired, the man was still in love with the sea, as he often took his granddaughter with him on his weekly fishing excursions. Flynn smiled at the memory of the little girl. 

“Flyyyyn~!” A young girl’s voice rang out in the late autumn air.

Speak of the devil. She was running towards him from across the street, red beret on her head and binoculars slung over her shoulder. 

“Hello, Patty.” He smiled at her as she approached.

A lengthy conversation followed the rest of their trip across the parking lot. It revolved mostly around Patty making him ‘guess what,’ Flynn guessing, and Patty just returning a ‘guess again.’ Approaching the door, Patty had slipped on a small patch of ice, though luckily for her, Flynn had grabbed the back of her vest, setting her back on her feet. She stared back at the patch of ice as if it were from another dimension.

“…Patty?” He questioned.

“Don’t you know what this means? It’s ice fishing season!” She turned to look at him, grinning, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Right, fishing. He should have guessed. Wait a minute… That was it!

“Did you catch a fish last weekend?” 

“Kind of.” She looked to the side, as if unsure how to explain it. 

“Kind of?” He pulled open the glass door, stepping inside.

“You’ll just have to see. That’s why the headmaster called you.” 

Flynn faltered for a moment, before looking at her incredulously. “The Headmaster wants to see me so he can show me a fish?”

“It’s… Well...” Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Not comp—“

“Miss Fluer!”

Flynn’s back straightened automatically at the voice, letting the door close on Patty, who simply stuck her tongue out before running off. Flynn turned and all but saluted to the man. “Headmaster Dionia.”

“Schifo.” The taller man nodded to him. “I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Was his reply, “But, if I may, why the aquarium facility?”

The Headmaster turned and began walking down the hall, Flynn following, before he spoke, “I would presume you know of the previous Headmaster Cypher’s… hobby. Regardless, he and his granddaughter came upon a rather interesting discovery on their last expedition. Cypher requested that it be kept here, and that the public not know of its existence just yet. That said, anything you are about to see or hear is not to leave this building, understood?” He came to stop in front of a door labeled intensive care.

“Y-yes, sir.” He managed. Flynn’s mind was reeling. So he really was here to see a fish? And an extremely rare one, from the sounds of it. Despite feeling flattered to be one of the few people that had the chance this supposedly rare fish, the blond couldn't help but wonder why in the hell that he was here. He was a criminal and justice major, not a marine biology specialist. 

After undoing what Flynn counted as three separate locks, the Headmaster opened the door and they stepped inside. There were no lights on in the room, save for those illuminating a massive tank on the far wall. The water glowed a surreal blue-green, but a flicker of purple instantly caught Flynn's attention. Whatever it been, it darted behind the large coral-head that took up nearly a third of the tank. 

"Was that…?" Flynn trailed off, casting a glance at the other man as he came to stand next to him in front of the tank.

The Headmaster nodded, "It's extremely cautious about anything new. Unfortunately, it also seems to have a very strong dislike for both myself and most of the caretakers here at the aquarium."

As Alexei finished speaking, he raised a knuckle to the glass and rapped on it as though he were knocking on a door. 

The harsh sound made Flynn wince, and he actually felt a little sorry for the fish. "Erm… Headmaster, not to be rude, but don't most fish-"

"I think you'll find this fish to be more intelligent than most." 

There was a loud thunk in front of Flynn that made him start, but by the time he turned to look, he only saw a lone chunk of coral sinking to the flat, sandy bottom of the tank.

"What in the world…?" Flynn stared. 

The taller man chuckled, "Regardless, I'd like you to spend some time here."

"Here, sir?" 

"Simply put, in this room. You may use it as your own private study hall, if you like."

While the idea of a study hall in which he could work uninterrupted was very appealing to Flynn… 

"What exactly will I be doing while I'm here?""I suppose you could say that you'll be socializing. The reason is that this fish is extremely dangerous for the aquarium staff to even feed. Leblanc was almost drowned yesterday. I hope that, through showing it humans aren't a threat, it will allow us closer, so we can study it in further detail. You may read, study, whatever you wish."

A study hall all to himself it was, then.

"I understand. I'll come everyday after classes."

"Good. Any other questions?"

"...You had said Mr. Leblanc was almost drowned?"

"I was told that the fish stole something from him and that he dove in to get it back. Ridiculous as it sounds, Leblanc was never really… Suited to be swim-team captain."

"Aha…"

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It had been about two weeks since Flynn started going to his private study hall at the aquarium. He enjoyed finishing his school and student council work nearly two hours earlier. It gave him time to… Actually have spare time. As per instructions, Flynn wasn't allowed to turn on any lights save a small desk lamp for when he was working. A few times, feeling as though he were being watched, Flynn would jerk his head around, only to catch the literal tail-end of the creature as it dove behind the coral. Rather than stress over not seeing the fish, Flynn preferred to spend an extra hour either reading a book or watching a movie. The blonde had discovered a small TV on the desk near the tank, and also an old DVD player. So, Flynn would watch all of his favorite classics he was lucky enough to have on disk.

 Today was a marathon of John Wayne movies that Flynn never got tired of. Half-way through True Grit, even Flynn couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at the corny movie lines. In doing so, he caught a shadow out of the corner of his eye. It was in the tank. And it was definitely not a fish. Flynn blinked. 

There was a person. Watching John Wayne. From in the tank.

Why would someone- When did they- How had Flynn not noticed? 

Cobalt eyes flickered to the side, as if to make sure Flynn wasn’t looking. Which he was, much to the tank-dweller’s surprise. Their eyes went wide and their mouth fell open, allowing bubbles of air to escape, before they jerked back, speeding away in a blur of… purple? 

Flynn stared to where it -they- had disappeared behind the coral head. They would have to come up for air at some point. The sound of gunshots rang out from the TV. The blond didn’t move an inch, hardly daring to breathe. He kept his eyes on the coral head, not letting his attention falter for even a moment. He was vaguely aware of the clock in the room ticking. 

Minutes passed. Flynn had at some point started counting the seconds of the ticking clock, and had already counted to sixty some twenty times. He was just about to resume his movie marathon when, tentatively, half a body appeared from behind the coral, partially obscured by a sea fan. The face and upper body were most definitely human, but... The lower half was decidedly not. There were scales and a tail and... A mermaid. 

Those cobalt eyes bore into him, and Flynn could do nothing but gape in return. There was a mermaid -merMAN- directly in front of him and his mind was reeling. What kind of creature was this? It seemed intelligent enough to enjoy movies. It was obviously sentient. 

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Sorry not sorry ran out of juice for this AU. My further idea is that Yuri only writes in Russian so when given an underwater dry erase board, Flynn has to take pictures and ask (language major) Judith to translate (or alternatively google translate the hell out of it). The entire Vesperia gang does their best to get Yuri back to the ocean but meanwhile Yuri is internally debating if he’d rather stay with Flynn or return home.