#why must you point out that there were more vials of the serum

[peteypiessuperfamily]

"You were never meant to be alone, Steve."

[keire-ke]

Why is Way of Water

Avatar Way of Water was terrible, but in very interesting ways. It's better than the first one in that it's less paint by numbers, less white-saviory, and less boring (also less voice-over, thank god), but also worse in that it's a hot mess of everything under the fucking sun. It should either be one hour shorter or five hours longer, and it's not a good thing.

IDK maybe someone should go and check in on James Cameron, because this movie felt like he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make all seven sequels, so he tried to cram all of them here. As a result I'm not even sure what the movie wanted to be about, because we had, in no particular order, protecting family, rich are evil, difficulty of dealing with change, family: nature or nurture, humans are bad, but also humanity is in a crisis, also some humans can be good, is it better to run from conflict or to face it, the curse of being the middle child, Jesus was a lil' weirdo when you think about it, killing can be good, actually, societal consequences can be unfair, marines just gotta punch something.

None of it was done with any depth or well.

There were things I found absolutely enraging:

You have two parents: the father, who is thy commanding officer, and also the sapient planet that encompasses all

Neytiri was underutilised to the point of pain. I don't recall if she was even allowed to have a relationship with her own children beyond screaming for them occasionally. The movie starts with a voice over by Jake Sully, which eh, if you must. However, most of the events of the movie affect Neytiri much more profoundly than they affect him, so centering on weakens the overall impact. Most of the attempted themes are about family, but throughout Jake treats his family like a precious resource he needs to protect for himself, so it's pretty shallow, giving me serious John Winchester vibes. Every time one of the kids said "sir" to their father I was expecting something to come out of it, like "I'm the chief, so it's appropriate in battle, but now I am no longer that, we need to re-examine our relations". Spoiler: nothing did.

Meanwhile, Neytiri, a member of a species whose community ties are reinforced by their very real deity, is there upending her whole life and severing ties to her community, she's dealing with the inclusion of aliens in her family, as the (prospective) shaman it should have been her role to be the spiritual leader, alas.

Colonel Evil Marine

Are you fucking kidding me, what the fuck. That was some bullshit, start to finish.

The technology to upload memories into avatars kinda... invalidates the whole program from the first movie? If that's possible (and there was no indication this was something only just invented), shouldn't this be done for all potential avatar operators? In case they die from, IDK, extreme mental strain and/or random bar fight.

Why would he want to be cloned as an alien in the first place?

It's not entirely unbelievable he went from a commander guy who was willing to do everything to get his job done, to a single-minded revenge machine (although... yikes), but the fact that somehow he was able to commandeer all the resources for his personal revenge?

The subplot with the son... I mean. What a weird, heavy and meaty plotline to shove onto a background character and a two-bit villain.

Unobtainium 2.0

Yeah... what. What was the point. That ties into nothing, does nothing. I swear it's like James Cameron heard about whaling for the first time during brainstorming phase, and just needed to add it.

The unobtainium from the first movie is mocked as a MacGuffin, but for however clumsily it's explained there, it's a synecdoche for the source of conflict: humanity needs resources, Pandora has resources. Even without the background information that it's apparently for space travel and magnetic properties we can understand the idea.

Here it's a magic anti-aging serum worth millions for a small vial, ergo it's for rich individuals, but that's not the conflict we get introduced to earlier, which is, to wit, "Earth is dying, humanity needs to move".

The space Jesus and the rape jokes

So run this by me again: Sigourney Weaver was not uploaded into her avatar because she died during the transfer, avatars are not transferable, so instead of burying both bodies they... put the avatar... in storage...? Also she got mysteriously impregnated? And the kids joke about their (presumably) friends and mentors... raping the corpse?

The resulting child is able to straight up control the planets biosphere with her mind. Cool.

The kids

I rather liked them, which is impressive! Child characters are hard to pull off. Aside from the smallest one, that one was entirely pointless. Certain aspects were unclear, like at some point we're expected to believe that the middle child feels like he's a disappointment to his family because... why exactly? He gets the others in trouble, sure, but it's not like he actively fails at something, other than following (somewhat arbitrary) rules. He's already a warrior by the tribe's standard (I presume, by the fact he is involved in the attack early on), but he gets grounded like a child? His subplot with the whale suggests he's uncomfortable with societal rules, doesn't understand them and wants to do his own thing, except he very clearly isn't and doesn't, he gets in trouble for disobeying the letter not the spirit of the rules. He doesn't even get a proper "well done son guy", and his "reconciliation" with Jake is teaching him the water tribe skills, which would matter more if a) Jake was at any point having trouble with adjusting to living in the water, b) the skills were what was the problem.

Spider was fascinating. First, who did his manscaping? I demand to know! But jokes aside, if not about Neytiri the movie should have been about him.

The whale

Go whale! I'm team whale.

The way of water

Sure would be nice if we got to see more of the practices of the water tribes, instead of montage skipping to action scenes.

Aesthetics

Very beautiful. My only complaint was the Sigourney Weaver character, her face was too uncanny valley for me.

Music

Present.

Overall

I was really mad when I walked out of the cinema, and I had a hard time enjoying the visuals because there were just too many concepts to be absorbed and then disappointed by. There's so much in here that could have been a great movie! Or three! But like so many current blockbusters it feels like this movie was written by an AI, words slapped on a page, superficially connected and making sense, but the number of fingers does not add up to a hand.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

Had to jump in since I’ve done a couple metas on this subject before ��(here) & (here)👈 

to point out something which it took me a while to notice, that emphasises what a nasty piece of work Zola really is:

We presuppose that Red Skull knew about and ordered Zola to do these serum experiments, but if you actually look closely at the movie again...

There is zero sign Red Skull knew anything at all about Zola’s experiments, or ordered them, and in fact a few things which suggest he very much wouldn’t approve.

Examples:

it’s explicitly stated that Red Skull wanted serum for himself alone (classic MCU villain behaviour) to become a ‘superior man’ so that he could seize the power of the Tesseract -- which he promptly did.

IIRC there’s no mention of Red Skull wanting serum to make a superior army, in the way Phillips says the US Army does.

Zola and Red Skull have been discussing Erskine at some point very recently, because Zola walks in and says ‘I understand you’ve found him?’ (without needing to specify who he’s talking about.)

Zola can immediately pick Erskine out from a series of surveillance photos of random men on the street, despite it being taken from a distance, and while Erskine is wearing a hat (I’d say baldness is his distinguishing feature, wouldn’t you?) Both Erskine and Zola were, until recently, Hydra scientists... To me, these things together suggest that Zola was part of the serum team when Erskine was there.

Zola hears that Red Skull has been looking into Erskine’s work post-Hydra... and then comes in acting all cagey about it, wanting to know more but trying to act like he’s not bothered, and despite Red Skull being a scary mofo he tries to dissuade Red Skull from looking into it any more. ( 'You disapprove’ /  ‘I just don’t see why you need concern yourself. I can’t imagine he will succeed... again.’)

Red Skull says he wants the serum destroyed, has ordered Erskine killed and his lab destroyed, and yet somebody high up in Hydra has told the spy Clemson to retrieve a vial of the serum in the process of blowing up the SSR lab. Why?

When Zola hears that Red Skull has already given the order for Erskine to be killed and the serum destroyed, he looks dismayed and tries to leave in a hurry...

In the 3-4 months after this moment with Red Skull, Zola is given control of a tesseract-weapons factory and, despite Red Skull specifically telling him he wanted the serum destroyed, starts doing serum experiments on American soldiers.

(Think how quickly he’d have to set up that factory and then get all the components for serum before he could start doing this; he must have been on this from the second he and Red Skull had that conversation... if not before?)

Zola is very clearly in charge alone at the Krausberg weapons factory, because there’s a scene where Red Skull takes an inspection and is given updates about their productivity (which wouldn’t be necessary if he was based there himself; we know he isn’t, because his main base is elsewhere in the Alps). IE. Zola has a secret place he can do things without Red Skull knowing.

Red Skull orders Zola to work the POWs harder, and Zola looks dismayed (then mentions he doesn’t think they have the... strength).

Red Skull orders Zola to work the POWs to death and then replace them

if Red Skull had ordered Zola to do experiments on them, why would he be treating these valuable subjects as if they’re expendable? 

why would he lace the factory they’re all housed in with explosives? (which Zola clearly doesn’t know about) 

why would he be so blase about blowing them up? 

(Red Skull doesn’t treat the POWs as if they’re important; ergo, shows no signs of knowing about Zola’s experiments at all.)

On two occasions (including in the factory) Red Skull meets Steve and is very visibly pissed off to face another supersoldier. He asks Steve what’s so special about him, that Erskine gave him ‘everything.’ Like other characters who greedily seize serum power for themselves, Red Skull is an egomaniac. He very clearly has it in his head that he (like Steve) is a special, unique, Great Man, great enough to harness the power of the Tesseract, and it should be he alone who gets to outdo ‘mere mortals.’

This outraged interrogation is not the behaviour of a man who: 

a) happily ordered for other supersoldiers to be created, or 

b) already knew what kind of person serum works on (Bucky). 

If Red Skull had known about Bucky, he’s the kind of guy to taunt Steve about Zola experimenting on his best friend; or about Steve not being special after all, since Bucky has serum too. But there is never any indication at all that Red Skull even notices Bucky, or knows anything about him or Zola’s serum.

tl;dr: IMO, all these human experiments with serum are entirely Zola’s baby, done  secretly / without Red Skull’s orders, and/or Zola doesn’t want Red Skull finding out about them.

So it’s very plausible that Zola had his own side plot going to recapture Bucky. Maybe even intended to be caught by the SSR all along...? 🤔

Time for some more rambling. I’m not sure if this is something that’s already been touched on in the fandom, but I was rewatching the The First Avenger recently and I’m pretty sure the train was set up by Hydra to be a trap for Bucky… 

Let’s start by looking at the scene where Steve rescues Bucky from the Hydra munitions factory. When Schmidt sees that Captain America has infiltrated the facility, he sets the building to destruct. Zola sees what Schmidt is doing and he freaks the hell out.

Now, Zola is normally a groveling worm when it comes to Schmidt. He knows better than to stand up to him; but there’s something that tips him over the edge here–if just for a second.  

We already know there are a handful of other munitions factories across Europe (which is part of the reason Schmidt can be so casual about blowing up this one). Wanting to save the weapons might be part of Zola’s reaction here, but that really isn’t reason enough for him to risk Schmidt’s anger (which can be deadly). At this point in time, there’s nothing in the factory they can’t afford to lose. 

Except for Bucky. 

Sergeant Barnes is the first one to show signs he might survive his stint in the isolation ward. He’s the first one to show signs that he might be responding to Zola’s attempts to create his own super soldier. That research is only located in one place, and Schmidt is about to send Zola’s breakthrough up in flames. The moment Zola realizes he can’t stop Schmidt, he makes a break for the lab to try to rescue his notes. Of course there’s no way he can carry Bucky out of there, so he has to make do with what he can get.  

In a painful twist of fate, Steve does Zola a favor by saving Bucky. 

Take a look at this standoff on the scaffold. Here the audience is meant to focus on Steve and Schmidt going head-to-head for the first time; but pay attention to Bucky and Zola. This is their standoff, too. Follow their line of sight. They’re not looking at Steve and/or Schmidt through most of this scene. They’re looking at each other, and you can almost see the realization on Zola’s face that his experiment might just be saved. 

Don’t you dare look at Bucky like that, you asshole. 

Also, can I just point out the look on Bucky’s face when he spots Zola?

If looks could kill. 

Not to mention his face when he sees what Schmidt looks like under the mask. Sure, Bucky’s line asking Steve if he has “one of those” is meant to be a joke for the audience; but I think Bucky’s experience as a character is a lot different from our experience outside the fourth wall. He’s genuinely scared–for Steve, for himself. You can see the trace of tears in his eyes. 

Bucky knows something awful has been done to him at the hands of Hydra, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to lose his humanity, too. 

Jump ahead and Captain America and the Howling Commandos are now laying waste to anything and everything Hydra. Things are looking bad for our villains.

This is an interesting line, because the movie doesn’t exactly tell us what Zola’s mission is. Maybe we’re supposed to think his mission is to make sure the weapons are finished in time to meet Schmidt’s timeline for world domination. Or maybe it’s to kill Captain America. And maybe those things are part of his job, but as Zola himself says, “I merely develop the weapons. I cannot fire them.” His primary job is research and development, not tactical planning and defense. 

Now that Hydra is up against a super soldier, it’s likely that Schmidt is anxious to get his own super soldiers into combat. The easiest and fastest way to complete that research, of course, is to retrieve Sergeant Barnes. (In theory, Zola could use Steve for experimentation if he caught him; but he would have to start the experiment from scratch. Peggy made it clear earlier in the film that it would take them years to find out the formula using Steve’s blood. Chances are good the same would apply to Zola. The work on Bucky is already underway, it’s Zola’s own handy work, and Bucky’s still weak enough to be an easy catch compared to Steve.)

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that, directly after Schmidt gives Zola the ultimatum to “finish his mission,” we cut to the Howling Commandos laying in wait for the train. They’re hoping to catch Zola, whose location has somehow been leaked, and it quickly becomes clear that the scummy doctor hasn’t been caught by surprise. In fact, everything indicates that Zola was the one laying in wait for them. He’s surveilling the entire train from a command center and issuing orders to strategically placed Hydra soldiers.

When Steve and Bucky board the car, Zola deliberately separates them.

Divide and conquer is a tried and true tactic, but look at the difference in the opponents sent after them. Steve is given a huge opponent armed to the back teeth with a Tesseract energy gun. But Bucky? Bucky faces off against one traditionally-armed guard. (EDIT: In a subsequent viewing I noticed he actually faces off against two guards, but the second one is barely seen and is removed from the equation fairly quickly.)

Why wasn’t that guard given an energy weapon too? My guess would be because Zola didn’t want his guinea pig harmed too badly. Bullet wounds can heal, but disintegration is forever. 

It might also be telling that when Steve and Bucky are back in the same compartment together, Zola screams “kill him” not “kill them.” It’s up for debate who Zola meant for the guard to target; but since he was initially sent after Steve, it’s my assumption that’s who Zola meant for him to shoot.    

As we all know, the plan goes horribly awry on both sides and Bucky falls to his seeming death. Zola is captured and, when Colonel Philips tells him that “the last guy you cost us was Captain Roger’s closest friend,” Zola barely acknowledges it with a creeptacular grin. 

He knows. He knows whatever he did to Bucky would keep him alive. And, as it turns out, even as a captive Zola will gain the means to finish his little experiment. 

Fucker. 

[mionie]

Punishing Gray Raven (PGR)

-- Fanfiction

Twilight: Watanabe x f!reader

(WARNING: unedited, slight angst)

Fluff! Enjoy! 🥰

"Commandant of Gray Raven, get out of there as soon as you can. The level of the Punishing Virus is rapidly increasing.” Celica said through the communication device, the usual friendly tone was replaced with a hard one. (Name) bit her lip, glancing at the horde of dead corrupted bodies at the foot of the building she was hiding.

“My team members are not yet here. I lost connection with them a moment ago, and the streets are filling in with Heteromers.”

“The more of the reason of your escape, Commandant of Gray Raven. Retreat now. Lucia, Lee, and Liv will be fine.”

“I know.” She whispered. The three of them were strong and she knew, she witnessed their strength even before she became their commandant but with the situation getting worse, how could she even abandon her team? Knowing if they were with her, they would be scolding her on where she stood. Liv would deprecate and blame herself, Lee would shoot sharp truths to her face as he drag her away, and Lucia would sacrifice herself to ensure their commandant’s sake.

Clenching her fists, she sighed, “okay. Roger that.”

“Good. Be careful, (Name).” Celica’s hologram disappeared, leaving her alone in the rubbles of the destroyed infrastructure. They will be fine, I know. I trust them, and they trust me.

She crawled out of the side of the marching Heteromers, making her way at the base of the building. After checking whether she was spotted, she dashed away from the Heteromers as quietly as she could. She was a mere human, commanding three members of constructs. If she were to fight alone with the corrupted bodies, her rate of survival would not even reach five percent. Until she was united with the rest, she had to be careful. For their sake and hers.

Navigating through the increasing number of the Corrupted were not as easy as the training back in Babylonia. It was thrice as dangerous and risky. She paused, hiding herself behind a pile of defeated Heteromers, readying her guns as three of them approached her hiding spot.

She tried to reconnect with her missing members, only to hear the beep that indicated a failure in the reconnection.

Clicking her tongue, she steadied her arms pointing at the leading Corrupted, shooting the shining red eyes of the robotic body. This alarmed the Corrupted with it, rotating their heads to the source of the attack, but (Name) was faster, avoiding the searching eyes and ran past them.

Trying to reconnect again, she cursed at the beep. Her senses were dulling and the familiar feeling of nausea was appearing, along with the itchiness and boiling of her blood.

With the streets in front of her swarming with Corrupted, she went inside an abandoned store and hid herself from the patrolling Corrupted. They must have been alerted by the Corrupted she encountered before.

She fished out a bag filled with vials and a syringe, shooting herself with the serum and her vitals slowly stabilized. She may not be as good as Liv in medical care, but she could take care of herself with the basics. One time when they were on a mission and (Name) lost her bag of vials in the fight with the Corrupted, the white-haired girl kept on apologizing and blaming herself for her ‘shortcomings’. It was her fault why she lost her bag that time, not Liv’s, but knowing the female construct, she would put all the blame on her. She sighed at the memory and measured her vital rate, making sure she was stable enough before she left and going past the flying Heteromers’ radars and finally out of the city.

She released a sigh she was unaware she was holding in. Although she was out the city, she should still be on guard. Keeping on reconnecting with the others, she carefully crossed the desolate bridge.

Before their mission, Lee had mentioned of the Corrupted evolving into new variants. It was eerie to think about. Fighting against normal Heteromers were difficult enough, but with the addition the evolving Corrupted, doubt crept up her thoughts.

She slapped her cheeks, gaining back her waning courage. She should not be easily swayed by the negative influence of the war. She had to be strong for the people of the past, present, and future. Claiming back Earth from the deadly Punishing Virus and rampant Corrupted were not impossible. It may not be in her generation, or the next, what mattered was it would be possible, and everyone was working hard into making it into reality.

A crash brought her back from her reverie. She quickly hid herself on a beam and readied her gun. She took a peek and her eyes widened at the familiar people. With their bodies covered with white coats and robotic limbs slaying Heteromers while still maintaining human intellect.

The Forsaken were fighting against what she assumed as a new variant. With the Forsaken busy with the Heteromers, she was temporarily safe… from both.

As quietly and as quickly as possible, she rounded a corner away from the busy parties, only to feel an icy blade on her throat.

“Babylonia rat. Drop your weapons if you want to be killed by me only.”

The low and serious voice was relieving and daunting at the same time. She dropped her weapon and raised her arms, turning slowly to meet her favorite heterochromatic eyes. The corner of her lips quivered up, wishing internally that they had not, “hi, Watanabe…”

“(Name)? Sh*t!” He quickly recoiled his knife and dragged her away into an old car from the Golden Age.

He shut the door from inside and turned to (Name), glaring at her (e/c) eyes. “What are you doing here, Commandant of Gray Raven? You should know that this is part of the Forsaken’s patrol routes.”

“I didn’t mean to. I was… lost?”

His mismatched eyes softened and looked away from her. They were silent inside the car as (Name) stole glances at the construct brooding beside her. It was not as if she was oblivious to his worries. She was a mere human AND a Babylonia agent. If she was only a human person, she would at least be spared by the Forsaken, but being affiliated with Babylonia, they would kill her on the spot.

He finally turned back to her and looked her in the eyes, tilting his head up. Confused, she whispered, “what?”

Watanabe sighed and tilted his head up again. Understanding his cues, she tilted her head as he brought out a mini-medical kit. He pressed a clean gauge on the thin line on her throat, sighing as he did his work. “You were being reckless again, Commandant. Where are your members?”

“I lost them.”

“… I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened and waved a hand, “oh no! I didn’t mean that they were dead! I meant we got separated.”

“… Tch.” She chuckled awkwardly at his obvious disappointment.

It was silent once more, as he was busy tending the wound he caused himself. Their close proximity bothered her. His warm breath fanning her exposed neck and his fingers sending shivers down her spine. She averted her eyes, focusing on something aside from the pleasant sensation she was feeling.

It was approaching nighttime and still there were no news of her three members. With the foreboding news from Celica, she had to evacuate immediately and her constructs could be remaining in the city to search for her.

But I trust them. With the amount of the Corrupted invading the city, plus the increasing level of the virus, they would know that she had to leave. The remaining problem was their meeting point. The Gray Raven Squad had already prepared for these circumstances, but they would not know (Name) was currently with the Forsaken leader.

Watanabe’s fingers stopped, resting on her collarbone. Her eyes shifted as to him, confused as to why he stopped, but she herself froze at the intensity of his eyes. It was… foreign. Foreign, but welcoming. She knew at the back of mind what it was.

The warm light of the sunset framed his face perfectly, casting shadows on his eyes that pulled her towards him. Watanabe’s fingers ghosted up the side of her neck and into her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut. It was involuntary. But how could she not if he had this effect on her? It was fine for humans and constructs to form intimate relationships, even in Babylonia, but it was rare. It was only twice when she saw human-construct couples out in the streets of the spacecraft. However, the reason why it was rare because their concern with the future.

When their squad had their missions on Earth, there would be times when they would run into the Forsaken. Sometimes, they would work together to defeat the Corrupted, and sometimes there would be scuffles between the Gray Raven Squad and the Forsaken. And in those moments, (Name) was not immune to the growing affection to him. She would always keep it professional. Knowing that it would get in the way of their missions, she reminded herself that it would soon pass. Nobody should know how she feels, not even him.

That’s right. In the end, I’m a human and he’s a construct. Humans have limited lifespan compared to constructs that can live on for centuries. It was fear. She could die very easily and leave the next torch to those who lived. With the war against the virus and Ascendants, maybe in the next day she will die. But that was the reason why she was hesitant.

She could be sprawled out in the open, drenched in her own blood as life slipped away from her. Lucia, Liv, and Lee would be in front of her begging her to stay and breathe. She heard that before somebody dies, life would flash before their eyes. All happy and sad memories would surface to be remembered before she left. If that was true, then she would reminisce the moments she spent with Watanabe.

She would regret it if she were to avoid it, and she knew he was feeling it, too.

His other hand gently brushed the bandaged wound. He was always gentle with her, no wonder she fell for the Forsaken leader. He would offer her good wisdom when she needed one, and he would reciprocate it with accepting her own advice. It was something little that bloomed into something more.

He drew closer, tilting her head and resting it on the tattered headrest. He stopped before anything could happen. (Name) opened her eyes, looking straight into his loving gaze. Watanabe was asking for permission. It was endearing, it brought a smile to her lips.

Though she said nothing, her gaze spoke volumes. Then he dove in and captured her slightly parted lips in a lock. Her heart thumped loudly and she felt as if her energy left her, leaving her to Watanabe’s care. Though she could not trust her body now because of excitement, she trusted the male construct. He drew back a little, watching her reactions through half-lidded eyes. Soft pink dusted her cheeks as she tried to make sense of the brief kiss they shared. He chuckled, going in for another but this time, much deeper and more passionate.

(Name)’s eyes widened, finding herself pushed further into the car seat. She was making noises she would not expect she would make. His lips moved against hers in fluid ease and need, stealing more of her sense of rationality. With shaky hands, she tried to push him away.

This is too much! As if sensing her plea, he released her and pulled her in his arms, letting her catch her breath. It was hot. The car was hot. His body was hot. Her face was hot, but she did not care. She buried herself deeper in his chest, inhaling the scent of tea and desert on him.

Although he no longer has a human body, his heart resided inside him. She could not hear it, but she imagined it to be beating as fast as hers. She looked up at him and he kissed her brows.

Just for a little longer, she wanted to spend more time with him. For a long time since she hid her feelings, her chest swelled with happiness as they finally acknowledged their love for one another.

“Ooohh! Steamy!”

“Nanami!” She gasped, pushing Watanabe away and scrambled out the car with him following behind.

Outside was the energetic construct, bouncing on her heels with her hands cupping cheeks, “kyaa! Commandant, that was sooooo intense! You could pass for an actress!”

“N-No, Nanami! Keep your voice down please…!”

(Name) successfully calmed the gray-haired girl, sighing as she calmed her erratic breathing, “anyways. Nanami, what are you doing here?”

“The pretty girl and friends were looking for Commandant! They asked Nanami if I happen to see you, and BAM! I did! Nanami leads them here, but they were sooooo sloooww. It was a shame they missed the show…” she pouted.

“T-There was no show, Nanami,” (Name) whispered in her ears, “Nanami, I’m begging you, please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Aww, but Commandant, they wouldn’t know your amazing skill!”

Her face turned hot again, hers and Watanabe’s kiss resurfaced, “they don’t need to know, Nanami. Uh, i-it’s an exclusive… show, so only it will known by one person.”

Nanami squealed and pirouetted, “eeee! So Nanami is that exclusive person? Okay! Nanami can keep secrets! Commandant’s the best!” Nanami glomped (Name), almost taking them to the ground.

“Haa, it’s you again, Chainsaw-hacker. Don’t tell me you were giving my men nightmares again?” Watanabe came from behind, pulling (Name) away from the shorter girl. (Name) blushed at the worried glance he was giving her. She nodded softly and Nanami grumbled, “old man, give Commandant back!” She lunged to take (Name) back but he carried her easily and dodged.

He sighed, “I told you, I’m not old.” He set his lover down and led them away to the entrance. They could see in the distance three silhouettes approaching them in fast speed.

“Commandant!”

“I better go or else they would get the wrong idea,” (Name) smiled ruefully, tugging discreetly at his fingers before jogging to meet her missing squad.

Watanabe could still feel the softness of her fingers as he watched (Name) being bombarded by three constructs. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but it was all real. The kiss they shared was still fresh in his M.I.N.D. and it would remain like that always.

“Hurt Commandant and Nanami will hack you to pieces,” Nanami poked his side with her chainsaw, and he pushed it away.

“Even without you saying so, I wouldn’t.”

“Hmph! You better be, or I’ll come and play with you and your friends every single day!” She stuck a tongue at him and sauntered off, joining the reunited Gray Raven Squad.

Under the peeking stars and last light of day, the group bid their goodbye to Watanabe, although one of them was sour about it. They turned and started walking away, but (Name) stood still, offering him a smile and a wave then joined the leaving group.

The lips that smiled at him hid their little secret. It was dangerous, what they did, but they chose to. So until the day when they win the war, he will work twice as hard to achieve his dream of Eden, and have her part of it and spend the rest of their lives together.

I promise you a world without the war, my Eden.

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

This is my 1st fanfic of PGR and English is not my first language so there bound to be grammatical mistakes. But I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading 🥰

[army-author]

jungkook scenario | the alchemy of amor

❝ jungkook is the arrogant son of the duke. you’re a humble alchemist just trying to make a living. unfortunately for you, jungkook seems to have taken a strange interest in you. when a dangerous wager involving a love potion spirals out of control, you find yourself flung into the deep end of emotion, and it becomes difficult to decipher genuine attraction from magical aftereffect... ❞

➝ prompt: i’m a witch who’s been experimenting with love-potion formulas, but there’s been a bit of a mix-up, and now the love-potion has somehow ended up in your hands, and you’re drinking it, and - no, please stop!

➝ pairing: jungkook x female reader

➝ genre: fluff, fantasy au, enemies to lovers

➝ requested by anon | 15.5k words

➝ warnings: profanity, mild injury, implied smut, some characters express misogynist sentiments

➝ author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! i had a lot of fun writing it. as you can see from the word count, i got a bit carried away. i can’t help it, i love enemies to lovers!

Oh goddess above, please not this. Anything but this.

You are not wont to pray, but in circumstances such as this, with your life unravelling before you in tattered ribbons, your mind recalls the goddess you so often forget. Watching in horror, your supplications come thick and fast, as Jeon Jungkook downs the phial of rose-gold potion, and with it, swallows the hours of work you had invested into those shimmering contents.

Normally, you would not be so perturbed by the wasting of a potion, even one as rare as Impetus Amor. Ingredients can always be re-bought, potions can always be re-brewed. But something about Jungkook’s cocky expression as he sets down the vial, and raises a brow at you, overwhelms you with the heat of irrational fury.

“Mighty goddess above, what is wrong with you?” you spit venom more potent than your potions. “You know very well how long that took to brew!”

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, “Tough.” He smacks his lips together, “Looks like the potion doesn’t work anyway. And on top of that, it tastes bad. Like dried roses and soap.”

How does he know what dried roses and soap taste like?

“It wasn’t intended for you,” you retort through gritted teeth.

You know that the potion does work. After all the work you invested - collecting rose-petals, gold shavings, and pegasus feathers, all to be brewed on a blue moon, and then carefully distilled – there was no way that the batch of Impetus Amor was unsuccessful. But every alchemist worth their gold knows that the finicky love potion takes a few minutes to take effect after ingestion.

Which means that in a few minutes Jeon Jungkook, the man you hate most, will involuntarily fall in love with you.

How could I let this happen? You cast your mind over the unfortunate events that had led you to this low point, while you stifle a scream.

✽ ✽ ✽

[Several days ago]

It starts when one of your customers steps into your potions shop, in the town of Sientha, with a peculiar order.

She wears a red hood that covers most of her face, and clutches a purse tightly in her gloved hand. Glancing furtively around the shop, she walks over to your counter, and slips a note between the demijohns and ampuls that crowd the area where you work.

Upon unfolding her note, your eyes widen. The note reads: ‘One vial of Impetus Amor’. You focus your eyes on the client, who keeps her head down. You can just make out shapely lips and a dainty chin below the lowered hood.

“I know it’s a difficult potion to make,” she says in a hushed tone, “But I’m willing to pay whatever you need for it.”

You study her intently. Below the cloak, you can see an expensive dress, and jewellery sparkling at her neck. It’s clear that she has the means to pay. In most circumstances, you would object to the use of Impetus Amor, but it is not your responsibility to tell your customers how to use your potions. You simply get on with brewing, and ask no questions. That’s how you make a living. This case wouldn’t be any different.

“Okay,” you say, “I must warn you that it will take quite a while to make, and most of the ingredients are quite rare, so the wait may be long.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

You nod, leaning against the counter, as you tally up how much the potion will cost in ingredients and labour. When you finally name your price, the woman is silent for a moment, contemplating, before she nods, and rummages in her purse. She takes out a small brown sack, heavy with coin, which she places in front of you. Counting up the money, you nod in satisfaction. “You’re in luck. There’s a blue moon soon, and the potion should be ready not long after. Roughly five weeks,” you advise, “Come by to collect it when you’re able.”

Satisfied, the woman leaves the shop, while you gape at the sack of coins on your counter top. You hadn’t had that much money to your name in a long time.

Impetus Amor – the potion is infamously difficult to create, but you’re ready for a challenge. Spinning around to the shelf of tomes behind you, you scour the tittles until you find the one you need. You pull the tome down from its shelf, holding your breath as a fog of dust descents around you. So it begins.

✽ ✽ ✽

The first mistake you make is accepting the request from the mysterious woman who came into your shop.

Your second mistake is letting Jungkook into your shop. Or letting Jungkook anywhere near you at all.

Jungkook is the only son of the duke of Braewyth, the duchy you reside in - a hobbyist alchemist and your tormentor in his spare time. When he had first barged into your potion shop, and declared that he wanted to learn the art of alchemy, you were led to the conclusion that he was a pretentious prick. This suspicion proved to be correct, as after a few lessons from you – out of the goodness of your heart, and the impossibility of saying ‘No’ to the heir of the duchy – Jungkook believed himself to be better than you with your fifteen years of experience. He was now convinced that the two of you were rivals, and you were convinced that he was a pain in the arse.

As you work on crushing down dried rose petals for your new project, Jungkook barges into your shop once more. He doesn’t seem to know of any other way to make an entrance into your tiny business. He leans over the counter, his eyes burning on your skin as you work.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Preparing ingredients for Impetus Amor.”

His nose wrinkles as he leans back on the counter, crossing his arms over his overcoat, embroidered with the emblem of the duchy, a snow white stag on a blue shield. “Ah, the potion of love,” he muses, “I’ve heard that one’s incredibly difficult to make.”

“I know,” you grimace, as you continue to grind rose petals to a fine red dust in your stone mortar. “What of it, Mr. Jeon?”

The duke’s son gives an impartial shrug. “I’m merely stating that it’s a laborious potion to perfect. I’m surprised you’re attempting it.”

You bite down on your cheek to stop yourself from speaking indecently to Braewyth’s heir. “My customers respect me, and know that I’ll carry out any requests with the utmost care,” you cut back with thinly veiled anger.

Jungkook leans back lazily, his elbow brushing dangerously close to a decanter filled with Verum Serum, a silver truth potion you’ve been working on. “Well then, my little apothecary, why don’t we make a wager?”

You raise an eyebrow, setting down your mortar, and waiting for him to continue.

“I’m willing to bet that you won’t be able to finish the potion,” Jungkook says, “In fact, if you finish it, and it works, I’ll pay you in gold.” He grins.

“And if I can’t?” you enquire. It’s an unlikely option, but you need to know what you are dealing with. You find it difficult to refuse the offer of money, especially if it’s a loss for Jungkook, but you’re wary of the consequences on the (very low) chance that you are unsuccessful.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook raises a hand, “I know you can’t pay much gold.” Your cheeks heat up. “But if you lose, then I demand a kiss from you.”

Biting down a retort, you take a deep breath, and remind yourself that it is unacceptable to call the son of the duke a ‘Bastard’, no matter how much you want to. Instead, with your fists balling, you reply, “Very well, Mr. Jeon. But please be prepared to lose.”

His eyes glitter under your gaze, “Okay.”

You know that there is no way you can lose. Still, the very thought of admitting defeat and letting him kiss you has your blood boiling as it churns through your heart. You ought to show more respect to the son of the duke - to most a kiss from him would be an honour - but your find respect hard to muster when he does nothing but flirt with the ladies about the town of Sientha, strutting arrogantly down the streets with a different girl handing off his arm each night.

It’s Jungkook’s loss for certain. You’ll make sure of that.

✽ ✽ ✽

Despite your confidence, Jungkook does everything he can to get in your way.

The next morning you raise yourself early from your bed to head into the mountains in search of pegasus feathers. Jungkook catches you on your walk between your shop and the stables, with your satchel slung across your back, and a grenadine-coloured cloak covering your riding boots and trousers. He saunters across the cobbled street to greet you. “Look at you. Out and about. It’s not often I see you step out of the comforts of your shop.”

“Perhaps if you were up earlier, it wouldn’t be such an irregular occurrence for you,” you chide, as you make for the bridge to the east, leading out of Sientha, “I often go out in the morning to track down ingredients.”

“My apologies that I don’t know your schedule by heart, little alchemist,” Jungkook ripostes, keeping pace with you, short steps for his longer legs, “I’ll have you know that I have many duties that keep me in the Braewyth manor until later in the day.”

Uninterested, you reach the stables where your ebony mare waits, whickering in recognition when you reach her stall. You begin saddling up, annoyed by the presence of Jungkook behind you, which you try to ignore – but like a fly buzzing around an empty room, it gets too irritating too quickly. “Are you planning on following me around all day like a cur in heat?” you ask, and Jungkook smirks, clearly amused to have scratched at some deep seated vexation inside you.

“That’s no way to talk to me, little alchemist,” he reminds you, waggling a taunting finger.

You sigh, adjusting the bridle on your mare. “Please excuse me, my good sir,” you lace your voice with sarcasm, “It wan’t my intention to offend. I was simply surprised to see someone like you showing an interest in my humble activities.” You offer him a sickly sweet smile, before hoisting yourself up into your saddle.

Ignoring your mockery, Jungkook looks up at you from under your dark lashes, “Well, where are you headed today?”

You bite down on your instinctual reply, thinking better of telling him it’s none of his business. “I’m going to the mouth of the River Waye. It’s rumoured that a pegasus has nested there, and I need its feathers.”

“For the Impetus Amor?” Jungkook’s eyes gleam.

You bow your head in a nod.

“Excellent. I’d love to come with you,” Jungkook sates, “I’ve never seen a real pegasus.”

As you open your mouth, ready to deny him, he interrupts, “You offered to tutor me on alchemy after all. Ingredient collection is a vital part of the hobby.”

I never offered to tutor you, you simply thrust your cumbersome presence upon me. Before you can say any of this out loud, Jungkook is calling for one of the stable hands to saddle up one of their horses. “Mr. Jeon, need I remind you that this hobby is a source of income for some,” you’re left to respond, somewhat hopelessly, as Jungkook stares up at you in your saddle.

Your mare shifts restless, unsure why she’s still cooped in her stable.

“If it’s such a burden to earn a livelihood, then I’m sure you could find some kind husband who’d be more than happy to take care of you,” Jungkook responds, “With looks like yours, you’d never have to work another day in your life.”

Your blood boils in frustration. You bite down on your lip, watching in cold silence as the stable hand brings a chestnut stallion over to Jungkook, handing him the reins. Your horse senses your unease, and with a prick of your heels in her side, she’s all too happy to trot out of the stable and into the harsh sunshine of the winter morning.

Jungkook follows behind, his stallion’s horseshoes clacking on the cobblestones.

“I’ll have you know, Mr. Jeon,” you say, controlling your tone as best you can, “I’m perfectly content making a living for myself, and am in no need of a husband.”

“And what of it?” Jungkook spurs on his horse, overtaking you as you reach the bridge out of Sientha, where the town guards immediately part, recognising the duchy crest on Jungkook’s overcoat.

As you follow over the bridge, Jungkook casts a look over his shoulder at you, “You wish to spend your whole life brewing potions, and die an old maid?”

“I know of worse fates,” you say, “I would rather live as a lowly alchemist than the chattel of some rich cretin such as yourself.”

Jungkook falls into silence, face frosty, and you wonder if your pushed things too far.

As you continue down the road, the quality of the surface worsens, with more potholes appearing the further you travel from Sientha. Fallen mute, you and Jungkook pass fields, appearing empty after the harvests of autumn.

It’s a long way to the mouth of the River Waye, which lies in the valley between two mountains, Mount Cantre and Ayn Blanch. The two peaks rise above you in the distance. As you branch off the main road onto a dirt track, you allow your mare to break into a gallop, and Jungkook urges his horse on to keep up with yours. You cast a glance over to him as he keeps stride beside you, his jaw set and his brows furrowed over dark eyes. With your gaze fixed, you almost miss the shouting, until the ruckus is directly behind you. Snapping your neck around, you see a group of Braewyth soldiers approaching on horseback. You pull on your mare’s reigns, attempting to bring her to a halt, but the soldiers are already upon you, passing by on the narrow track. Your skittish mare rears as the soldiers rush past, and you find your view turned upside down. Thrown from the saddle, you land on your rear in a soft pile of moss. You’re lucky to have nothing but your pride bruised.

Jungkook brings his horse to a halt next to you, and leaps down from his saddle, catching your spooked mare’s reigns, before she makes to bolt. Soothing the black horse with hushed murmurs, Jungkook leads her to a nearby tree, where he ties the reigns to a low hanging branch. “Are you alright?” he turns his attention back to you.

You wince, and take his hand, allowing him to pull you up. “Yes, I’m okay. Just a little shaken.”

“Good.��� His voice is gruff, “Those bloody soldiers. I wonder if they realise who they just overtook. I’ve a mind to report them to my father.”

“Don’t bother,” you dust down your cape, “Everyone knows the Braewyth soldiers are bloated with pride after the last success in war.”

Jungkook snorts. “That war was three years ago. Their only responsibility now is to protect the people of the duchy, and they can’t even do that!” He heaves a sigh, eyes cast to the sky, where the harsh sun shines down from an empty winter sky. “No matter, we’re wasting time here. If you’re sure you’re alright, then we should crack on.”

You walk over to untie your mare, who has now calmed down and is happily grazing on some grass by the side of the road. Hoisting yourself into your saddle, you edge her on with a soft nudge of your heels. Ahead of you, Jungkook has already mounted his ride, patting the neck of his stallion. You’re almost in a mind to apologise to Jungkook for calling him a “cretin” earlier, but you bite back the words, pride getting in the way.

You continue the journey in silence. The path is long, and as your altitude increases, the temperature plummets. Shivering, you pull your cloak closer around you. Your mare huffs out puffs of warm breath as she trots down the winding track, weaving between the smaller hills that spread towards the Braewyth mountains. Further ahead, Jungkook is hunched down in his saddle, looking cold, but staying stubbornly silent.

At last, you come to the edge of the valley, and begin to follow the track next to the shallow section of the River Waye. The banks are padded with moss, and you spot the sleek shining bodies of carp flickering in the crystalline water.

Slowing your mare, you slip off your mount, and tie her to a barren tree at the edge of the water. Ahead of you, Jungkook, having noticed you have stopped, dismounts as well. “Are we there?” he asks.

You nod, putting a finger to your lips. With a hushed voice, you respond: “Nearly. But we need to proceed on foot. Pegasus are incredibly skittish. We’ll be quieter without the horses.”

Passing Jungkook, you follow the winding path next to the Waye, stepping on the spongy moss to silence your footsteps. The two mountains rise up on either side of you – on the left, Ayn Blanche, its peak capped with snow, and on the right, Mount Cantre, sitting squat in Ayn Blanche’s shadow. The valley in between is adorned with scree; clumps of heather dot the otherwise drab landscape.

You slow to a stop when your sharp eyes catch sight of what you were hoping for – hoof prints and loose white hairs caught on a bramble. Leaning down, you pick up a strand of hair, running your fingers over it. Course and thick, there’s no denying it. The hair from a pegasus’ mane.

“There’s a pegasus somewhere around here,” you inform Jungkook in a hushed tone, pointing out the hoof prints to him.

Staying silent, oddly obedient, Jungkook nods, eyes scanning the area.

Carefully, you make your way along the trail of hoof prints. Ahead of you, you spot an opening on the steep flank of Ayn Blanche, a few meters from the base. It appears to be the perfect spot for a pegasus nest, tucked away from the wind that normally sweeps through the valley. Walking to the base, you search for a good foothold, and begin to hoist yourself up the craggy slope to the opening.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Jungkook breaks his unofficial vow of silence.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you huff, “I’m getting up to the pegasus’ nest.”

“Isn’t that dangerous work for… well...” Jungkook trails off. Probably for the best.

“I’ve climbed my fair share of rock faces,” you assure him, “Alchemy isn’t just about sitting daintily at a table stirring tiny beakers and keeping one’s hands soft and free of callouses.”

“But won’t the pegasus be angered if you enter its nest?” Jungkook worries from below.

As you stretch to reach for a rock that juts out above you, you grunt, “You know, Mr. Jeon, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were concerned for my wellbeing.”

You’re disappointed that you cannot look down to see the pout that is so evident in his voice as he retorts, “Well it wouldn’t look good if I were to go out with a young maiden, and return back with her maimed. People might talk.”

“People will always talk, regardless,” you say, pulling yourself up to the ledge at the front of the opening. “Don’t fear, Pegasus are only aggressive to those they deem to have a wicked soul. Which means I’ll be fine. But you might need to watch out.”

Before Jungkook can shoot back a reply, you turn your attention to the opening that houses the nest. The space is large, big enough for a pegasus. Peering in, you see that the nest is empty of any life, but the small cave is filled with exactly what you need – feathers caught on the rocky outcroppings. Pulling out a bottle from your satchel, you scoop up a few feathers, and preserved them in your glass. The feathers sparkle slightly in the sunshine that throws slanted rays into the cave. Satisfied with your find, you get ready to climb back down.

Just then, you hear a shout, and peer down to see Jungkook waving his hands at you from the bottom of the steep rock face. He gesticulates wildly, pointing downstream. You look in that direction, a spot the white shape of a pegasus, just before it plummets down with a splash into the Waye.

Quickly, you scramble down the rocks, and sprint to the river, where you see the water running red. An arrow is sticking from the flank of the pegasus, which raises its head above the water, straining to get up, before it flops down again. Horrified, you scan the area, trying to figure out where the arrow was fired from. It doesn’t take you long. Two poachers approach, a net swinging from their hands.

“Oi, get away from that creature,” one of them shouts upon spotting you.

“What are you going to do with it?” you ask, moving your body to block the pegasus.

“We’re going to make a fortune peddling off it’s body parts to alchemists,” the shorter of the two informs you, “Those occultists pay a hefty price for hair and feathers you know, not to mention a fresh heart, or a vial of blood.”

You grit your teeth, standing up straighter, “It’s a negative stereotype that alchemists use blood and hearts in their potions. And the hair and feathers are only useful if they’ve come from a living creature. You’re wasting your time if you think you’ll make money killing and harvesting this animal.”

The taller one laughs – an ugly sound that sends a shudder through you. “And what would you know about alchemy, wench? If I have questions about my cooking, or my laundry I’ll come to you.  So how about you keep your mouth shut on things you know nothing about?”

Stifling your rage, your bite back, “I’m not letting you near this creature. Not one step further.”

“Oh, well, aren’t you just a darling bloody saint. Protecting the innocent fauna of the land. I don’t remember asking for a sermon on the morality of killing dumb animals.” Your eye catches the movement of the taller man’s hand to the hilt of his sword. “Now, I would suggest you get out of the way, before I make you get out of the way.”

You size the two men up, and swallow. You have a small dagger on your hip, usually used for cutting plant shoots. Not much use against two swords. Still, you bring your hand to your hip in anticipation, unwilling to back down.

“I order you to stop!”

You glance towards the source of the voice. Jungkook is standing behind you with his rapier raised, his stance indicating years of training in fencing. With two calculated blows he could puncture the stomachs of both poachers. The two men blanche.

Nonetheless, the shorter of the two poachers blusters on, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m Jeon Jungkook, son of the duke of Braewyth. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you two gentlemen that pegasus are considered an endangered species, and it’s a criminal offence to poach them, punishable by a good flogging in Sientha square.”

The shorter poacher swallows, his hand wavering.

The taller of the two is only all the more incited. “I don’t give a fuck. You’re not a king. Not even a prince. Just some lesser noble with a silver spoon shoved up your arse. What are you going to do, report me? We’re out in the middle of fuck-knows where, and you’re outnumbered, two to one.” He raises his sword.

“Actually, it’s two against two,” you correct him, unsheathing your dagger.

“Well that seems fair then, doesn’t it,” Jungkook purrs, “Fine, I suppose I’ll just have to punish you myself, seeing as we’re in the middle of “fuck-knows where”, as you so eloquently put it.”

The shorter of the two gulps audibly, and then turns tail and begins running in the opposite direction, slipping over the mossy rocks by the Waye’s bank.

A wiser man would have retreated, but it appears that the taller poacher is somewhat lacking in cognitive ability. With a roar, he lunges at Jungkook, who easily pirouettes out of reach, leaving the lanky man to swipe at thin air. Growling, the man rights himself, and launches at Jungkook, but the duke’s son easily parries the blow with his blade, a metallic clang echoing in the valley. The poacher stumbles back, grimacing. Seeing that he has underestimated the “lesser noble”, the poacher makes a grab for you instead.

You attempt to duck out of the way, but slip on the wet rocks, and feel a clammy hand grab around your wrist, pulling you into the hard body of the poacher. Up close, he smells of onions and beer. You struggle against him, but upon feeling cold steel at your throat, you freeze.

“Not another move,” the poacher growls, “Or this wench gets it.”

You glance at Jungkook, who stands poised, with rapier raised. An expression of fear flashes across his face, like a fleeting cloud on a sunny day, passing so fast, you could convince yourself you imagined it.

The poacher’s plot could have worked out for him, had he not underestimated your strength.

As he leers at Jungkook, you grasp at the advantage of surprise. With a sudden twist, like a striking viper, your hand – still holding the dagger - snaps up, and strikes the man on the side of the head with the hard wooden hilt. The man crumples with a screech.

You leap away. At the exact same instant, Jungkook jumps forward. You turn to see the son of the duke standing over the poacher, his rapier raised to the tall man’s stubbly throat. The poacher whimpers, with one hand clutching his face where you struck him. A trickle of blood trails down the wrinkles of his face.

“Now listen carefully,” Jungkook says, his voice low and dangerous, “I could kill you right here. But I’m choosing to spare you. I would suggest you get off your sorry arse, get up, and run away. Take your possessions, your wife and children – if you have any – and flee this duchy. Because know that you are a wanted man while you remain in the borders of Braewyth. I know your face, and soon ever guard in our troops will know it too. The punishment for poaching endangered creatures is flogging. The punishment for an attempt on the heir of the duchy’s life is the gallows. There will not be mercy the second time. Do I make myself clear?”

The man nods, slowly and carefully, his throat strained below the point of Jungkook’s rapier.

Jungkook lifts the blade. “Go.”

The poacher does not need any more prodding. Scrambling to his feet, he flees, glancing behind him every so often, as if he is scared that Jungkook will change his mind and follow after him.

Jungkook breathes a sigh, sheathing his rapier. The sweat on his neck is the only indication that he was at all shaken by the encounter. Your return your dagger to the holster on your hip, and turn your attention to the pegasus which still lies in the shallow portion of the river, breathing heavily. You carefully walk over, and inspect the damage.

There’s one arrow lodged in its side, but from the other gashes on its white coat, it appears that several other arrows hit, but subsequently fell out, leaving the creature to bleed from multiple open wounds. The pegasus lets out a distressed whinny as you approach, and makes an attempt to get up. Its legs shake, and it collapses back with a splash, too weak to run away. It has already lost a lot of blood.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I’m not going to hurt you.” You know the creature can’t understand you, but you hope your tone is at least soothing. The pegasus thrashes in the shallow water, but realising it is too weak to move, it resolves itself to its fate, and lays its head down.

You crouch next to it, ignoring the cold water that soaks into your boots and riding trousers. Carefully, you pull a bottle from your satchel, and uncork it. You are thankful that you often carry first aid potions around. Wafting the bottle under the pegasus’ nose, you watch as it inhales the scent of your soothing potion and relaxes. With the creature sedated, you pull the arrow from the skin, and apply pressure to staunch the flow of blood that follows. Hunting in your satchel, you pull out a second potion, filled with healing balm. Pouring the thick green liquid onto your palms, you begin massaging it onto the pegasus’ open wounds. The smell of lavender and sage emanates from the balm, covering up the bitter metallic smell of blood.

Straightening up, you back away from the pegasus. The creature tentatively stands up, taking a few hesitant steps forward. Strengthened and emboldened, the pegasus canters forward with a whicker, its large wings ruffling as it takes flight.

“What did you give it?” Jungkook asks, watching the pegasus soar towards its nest.

“A simple Salutare Decoction,” you tell him, “Made to soothe and heal wounds, and-”

“And restore vitality. Yes, I know the one,” Jungkook interrupts, “I’ve never seen it used in practice.”

You flash him a cocky smile. “There’s no shame in admitting you’re impressed by my talents, Mr. Jeon.”

The heir of the duchy grimaces, “I’ll be impressed if you can actually make the Impetus Amor.”

“Oh, you of little faith. Are you allergic to admiring anyone who isn’t yourself?”

“Don’t get too arrogant, little alchemist.” Jungkook tramps back to his horse, his back a silhouette of irritation with shoulders hunched and head lowered. “Don’t forget who saved you from those poachers, you ungrateful wench.”

You snort,  walking back to your mare, “Some help you were when I had a blade held to my throat...”

“If you had been alone, you would have been slashed to ribbons,” Jungkook parries, hoisting himself into his saddle. With a dig of his heels, his stallion canters forward before you can get another word in.

By the time you’ve swung yourself into your saddle, Jungkook is far ahead, and you know there’s no way your mare can catch up with Jungkook’s brawny stallion.

Clucking at your ebony horse, you encourage her into a trot, muttering insults that Jungkook will never hear while you weave down the path back to Sientha.

✽ ✽ ✽

With the necessary ingredients, you’re finally able to start work on the Impetus Amor once you return to your shop. There’s no sign of Jungkook as you work throughout the rest of the day, and of that you are glad.

If you never see his cocky face again, it’ll be too soon for you. Yet, as you crush down thin sheets of gold into fine dust, his visage clouds your vision. Even as you watch the pegasus feathers steep in rose water, the shimmering sheen slowing leeching from the feather into the liquid, you cannot shake his sure smile and steadfast gaze from your clouded thoughts.

Dazed, you extract the feather from the liquid, leaving behind the opalescent rose water. The ingredients are ready. You simply have to wait. The next blue moon will be soon – a lucky coincidence.

Your luck is sure to run out eventually.

✽ ✽ ✽

On the night of the blue moon, once your shop is closed for the evening, you begin to prepare for the brewing of the potion. You start by getting your ingredients together, setting them up in a semicircle around your caldron. While you may have no control over your own life, you can easily command ingredients to do your bidding, controlling the brewing process and modifying as you go. The whole process is a soothing ritual for you.

At least it would be, if it weren’t for an irksome knocking coming from your door.

Sighing, you leave your ingredients by the caldron, and go to the door. You slide back the wooden latch, and outside you see -

“Jungkook?”

He stands, illuminated in a halo from the lanterns outside.

You wrinkle your nose. “What do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet the heir of the duchy?”

Rolling your eyes, you open the door to him, “Mr. Jeon, what an honour to see you at the threshold of my humble shop. Please make yourself at home. Is that any better?”

“A little,” Jungkook steps inside your shop.

You’re already seething, and he hasn’t even been in your presence for more than a minute. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I needed your expertise on something,” Jungkook says, sauntering over to your counter, and leaning against it.

You snort. “I find it hard to believe you think anyone besides yourself has any expertise.”

“Your words sting, little alchemist,” his eyes drag across the supplies lined on the shelves of your shop, before finally coming to rest on you. “I came here for some advice. Yes, yes, take time to gloat if it makes you feel better.” He waves a dismissive hand.

The gloating wouldn’t feel so good with his dark eyes piercing yours. You swallow, and stay silent.

“I need a potion to help me stay awake,” Jungkook admits.

You raise your brows. “It’s not healthy to stay awake for long periods of time, Mr. Jeon.”

“Well of course. It’s a one-off, naturally,” he shrugs at your concerns, “I’m just a little tied up you see. I promised a lovely lady that I’d take her dancing this evening, but I also have a commitment to the duchy, and that means being in attendance at an early morning meeting tomorrow. I was quite hoping to spend some quality time with the lady tonight, if you understand my meaning.”

“Are you sure it’s not an aphrodisiac you’re after instead?” you quip.

Jungkook raises his brows in feigned surprise. “What do you take me for? Some kind of cad?”

“Are you not a cad?” You examine him skeptically, “I see you around town with a different lady each day. What conclusions am I supposed to draw?”

“Well, perhaps you’re not so wrong,” Jungkook grins, “Just don’t tell the ladies that.”

“Don’t worry. They’re all too posh to speak to me, let alone believe my accusations that Jeon Jungkook is a good for nothing bounder who only cares about the delicacies that hide beneath their petticoats and pantaloons.”

“Can you help with the potion or not?” Jungkook has grown bored of your jokes.

Stepping behind your counter, you begin to rummage around the shelves. “Luckily for you, Vigil Concoction only takes a few minutes to brew.” You grab a jar of rhodiola rosea, along with a fine iron powder, and the scales of a mermaid. Crushing the aquamarine scales to a fine dust, you mix the ingredients together with a drop of lime juice. Jungkook watches, fascinated, as you pour the ingredients into a clean caldron, and bring the concoction to a boil. The smell of brine mixed with lime cuts through the air.

Jungkook's eyes wander over to the ingredients set aside for the Impetus Amor. “I see you’re finally going to be brewing it tonight,” he nods at the ingredients.

“Yes, I was about to before you interrupted,” you say, stirring the Vigil Concoction.

“So if it’s brewed tonight, it should be ready in a few days, correct?”

You sigh, and affirm, “Correct.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to wait until then to see if you were actually successful.”

You wince. You had been hoping that Jungkook would forget your wager. Instead of continuing that train of thought, you change the subject. “If you don’t mind me asking, why not cancel your plans with this maiden, and attend the meeting. Any lady would be more than willing to change her plans for you.”

Jungkook sighs, “Actually, meeting with her was my father’s idea.”

You pause stirring the concoction to eye Jungkook with curiosity. “I didn’t take the duke to be the type to encourage copulation with fair damsels.”

“Wether I have sexual relations with the women does not matter,” Jungkook blushes, “My father is insistent that I find a wife.”

You splutter, and his dark eyes flash.

“Did I say something that amused you?”

“No, sorry,” you focus your attention on the potion, “It’s simply difficult to imagine you settling down with a woman.”

“What can I say. Most of the women I meet are a bore. Perfectly satisfactory in the bedroom, but useless outside of it. I struggle to hold a conversation with any of them. I need a lady with more substance if I am to wed her, not just bed her.”

“It must be such a chore being forced to spend time with all those beautiful women,” you tease, decanting the potion into a vial and corking it. Handing it across the counter to Jungkook, you warn, “Wait until it cools down before you consume it.” Your hand brushes against his as he takes the vial.

“Listen,” his voice is quieter, and despite yourself, you find you are trapped in his gaze, “I do not want you to think less of me for this conversation. When I find the right lady, I’ll settle down. I won’t be a cad. I..” he trails off, pocketing the vial. “I… well. Thank you for your help.”

You nod, unsure how to interpret his words. Taking on a professional tone, you say, “The concoction will work for about twelve hours, and will keep you alert and sleepless in that time. Once the twelve hours are up, you may find yourself dozing off quickly, so do be mindful of that.”

“Thank you.” With that, Jungkook leaves your shop. You stand in your empty store, thrown off by the unexpected distraction he caused.

Shaking your head from your hazy thoughts, you get back to the business of brewing Impetus Amor. You sit down in front of the cauldron, with enough ingredients to make several batches. You carefully measure each ingredient out, pouring them into the caldron’s black maw, while the light from the blue moon shines in through the shop window. You murmur a few words as smoke begins to rise from the caldron. The words come from an ancient civilisation, now long dead. The accent is strange and heavy on your tongue. It is the words that are the most demanding part. One wrong inflection, one stutter, and the potion’s strength will wane, or even fade completely. You’ve practiced each phrase thoroughly, just to be safe. As you stir, the liquid in the potion changes from pale translucent to an opaque pearlescent pink. A success. Working quickly, you pour the mixture into an alembic to distill.

Now all that’s left to do is wait.

✽ ✽ ✽

The days pass quicker than you expect, with nothing much to note, apart from the weekend, when a young lady wanders into your shop with a tear stained face, asking for a potion to mend a broken heart. You could have sworn you had seen the lady with her arm strung through Jungkook’s the previous day. You do not comment as you hand her a bottle of Cor Integro.

At last, the Impetus Amor is ready, and right on cue, so is Jungkook. He walks into the shop as you are bottling the love potion.

“Is that it?” His eyes flash over the contents of the glass bottle.

You nod.

“May I?” He holds out a hand, and you hesitate, before relinquishing the bottle to him.

And so concludes the list of bad decisions you made concerning Impetus Amor.

He holds it up to the light, inspecting intently. “Well, it certainly looks convincing. But I suppose we won’t actually know if it works unless we test it.”

The bad feeling forming in your stomach has arrived too late to warn you. Jungkook is already pulling out the cork, and downing the contents of the bottle.

This is how you end up with Jungkook, the one man you cannot stand, drinking your love potion. The first person he looks at will be the one he falls for. He’s looking at you.

Oh goddess above, please not this. Anything but this.

“Mighty gods above, what is wrong with you? You know very well how long that took to brew!” Your attempt to restrain your tone is unsuccessful. Anger pours freely from your words.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, “Tough. Looks like the potion doesn’t even work anyway. And on top of that, it tasted bad. Like dried roses and soap.”

“It wasn’t intended for you,” you remind him. “In one hour, it will begin to take effect, and you will be reduced to a fawning dolt, drooling over my every move.”

“That will only happen if the potion actually works. Which it may not.” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at you, so sure of himself it makes you want to scream. “I cannot have you selling snake oil to the people of Braewyth.”

You are physically trembling with anger. “That potion is incredibly expensive. You’ll have to pay for it.”

“Fret not, you’ll get your money… if it works.” He swivels around, and is about to make for the door, but you dash in from of him, blocking off his means of escape. “I won’t allow you to leave,” you say, “You’ll make a complete fool of yourself if you’re free to roam the streets under the influence of a love potion.”

Jungkook blinks – innocent – and then laughs, “Come now. It won’t be that bad.”

“Yes. Yes, it will be that bad,” you insist, “I’m keeping you here until I can cure you. The last thing we want is for you to cause a scandal.”

Jungkook’s Adam’s apple bobs, finally realising that you’re being serious. “What will the potion do to me?”

“You should have asked before you drank the potion.”

“Perhaps,” he concedes, “It might not work. We still don’t know.” His eyes are wide, like a deer that’s spotted a hunter with an arrow aimed at its heart. “What will it do?”

“It will make you fall in love with me,” you say, “Of course. On top of that, it will cause you great physical pain any time you are not close to me. It will make you desperate for physical contact.”

Jungkook swallows thickly. “Well… let’s… uh… hope you got it wrong then, hmm?”

You frown. “I’ve half a mind to throw you out into the street to make a complete fool of yourself, screaming your love for all bystanders to hear.”

“Surely you’ve got a cure,” Jungkook pleads.

You grit your teeth. “You can’t expect me to simply fix every problem with a magical potion, Mr. Jeon. Alchemy doesn’t always work like that.”

“I’m sorry!” Jungkook blurts, “There, I said it. I’m sorry! I know I’ve cocked up. And I know I take your abilities for granted. I underestimate you all the time. I’m sorry, alright? But you have had it out for me from the moment you met me. You hated me before you even knew me. I don’t know why, but I’m sorry for that too. Now can you please stop piling on the blame and help me?” He holds up his hands, plaintive, “Please. I can’t do this by myself.”

Your shoulders slump. You want to be angry. All you feel is pity.

“Aright, Jungkook,” you concede, “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” his voice is soft.

You set the sign on your shop door to ‘Closed’, and bolt it. Then, you move across to your shelf of books. You know that one of these tomes must contain an antidote for a love potion. It’s not something you’ve made before, and you cannot remember which volume it is in, but you know it must be there. You scan the indexes, the pile of rejected tomes towering taller as you search through each book for any help it may provide.

Meanwhile, Jungkook sits on a stool by the counter, fidgeting awkwardly. 

At last, in your copy of Payne and Nash’s Antidotes for Advanced Alchemy, you find a potion called Aphrodite’s Cure – an antidote for love potions and aphrodisiacs.

Your finger mechanically runs down the list, checking off each one.

Extract from a siren’s tongue

Sap from a cherry tree

Crushed topaz

You have all those items in your shop. If you believed in the goddess, you would be praising her now. Your finger stops, hovering over the brewing time, spelled out in black ink. Two hours.

“Well, Jungkook...” The duke’s son looks up at the sound of your voice. “I’ve found a cure I can brew, but it will take two hours.”

Jungkook’s hopeful expression falls. “Well, I suppose I can bear being in love with a pain in the arse like you for two hours. Even if you are… the most… the most... beautiful maiden I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He leaps up from his stool.

Your heart pounds, animalistic instincts telling you to run far away.

Still you remain frozen to the spot, while Jungkook makes his way around the counter to grab at you, pulling you close. Your chest presses against his, while his hands grip your waist.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jungkook murmurs, “Forgive me for not telling you earlier.”

Your curse silently, caught in Jungkook’s ardent gaze. Your potion had worked wonders... unfortunately. “Does this drivel normally work on the maidens you woo?” you ask, pushing him away.

He winces as you part. “Please, my dear, it hurts when you force us apart.”

You remember the side effect of Impetus Amor embodies itself as physical pain when a couple is not  close to one another. Despite your disdain for Jungkook, you feel a pang of pity for him. “Okay,’ you say, “You may stay near my side. But you can’t get in my way while I work on an antidote for you.”

“But I don’t want to be cured,” Jungkook retorts, “I’m in love with you, and it feels wonderful. I never realised how good it would feel to experience true love. You truly wish to part me from this happiness?”

“Yes. You asked for this. Remember that.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “My past self did not know what he was talking about. I wish to stay by your side, forever..”

“No matter what I do,” you say, “The effects will wear off in a week. I’m merely expediting the process to save you the embarrassment that will follow.”

Firmly, you move away from Jungkook, fetching a bottle of siren’s tongue extract from the top shelf behind your counter, before you dig out your crushed topaz and cherry tree sap from a cupboard. You sit down in front of your caldron and let Jungkook take a seat beside you. His hand comes to rest on your knee. You startle at his touch.

“You said I could stay close to you,” he says, “Sorry, is this too much?”

You shrug. “Do what you need to. Just don’t get in my way.” As you pour the potions into the caldron and begin stirring over a low flame, you try to ignore the heat in your body, shooting up from the spot on your leg where Jungkook’s palm rests. The ingredients begin to bubble in the caldron. You watch carefully, smelling the steam that rises, hoping to discern clues on the quality of the brew. When the scent of caramel begins to waft from the caldron, you remove it from the heat, and allow it to sit for a few minutes before you transfer it to a flask where if will sit for two hours, allowing the ingredients to cool and fully incorporate into Aphrodite’s Cure.

“Well, Jungkook, now we wait.”

He huffs, “I already told you, I don’t want to be cured.”

“Tough,” you tell him. “Eventually you will be, whether you like it or not. Then you’ll be on your own to deal with the shame that follows. I’m not helping you with that.”

He bristles. “I don’t find being in love with you shameful. Not at all. After all, you’re strong-willed, and intelligent, not to mention beautiful! You have more wit and personality than most other women I have wooed. If I were to be embarrassed at the idea of loving you, I ought to cringe at the idea of having bedded the other women.”

“Well, you shan’t be ‘bedding’ me,” you say, “You can’t get between my legs just by flashing me a favourable look.”

Jungkook’s face falls, “You wound me, my dear. You truly believe I only have carnal pleasures on my mind. Do not worry. I know you need respect and commitment before you would allow a man to  crawl between the sheets with you.”

You feel your cheeks burning with a blush. “Let me guess – you wish to be the man who will show me that respect and commitment, and will crawl between the sheets with me?”

“Listen,” Jungkook diverges from your pointed question, “I know I need time to prove myself to you. I haven’t shown you my best side while I’ve been around you. I can only ask that you forgive me, and let me show you how much better I can be.”

“I’m used to the way you treat me.” You move away from Jungkook, but he grabs onto you, hands desperate.

“Please don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving. I just need to get on with work. You may have forced me to close my shop, but that doesn’t mean I can sit and twiddle my thumbs for two hours until you’re cured.”

“But I want to sit here with you,” Jungkook whines. The potion doesn’t seem to have just struck him down with love, but also to have turned him into a pouty brat with the attitude of a spoiled toddler.

Give me strength. “Let me guess,” you say, “You want to hold me, and kiss me? Am I right?”

Jungkook’s face turns red. “You shame me my dear, for it seems you have been reading my thoughts. Forgive me, but how can I help but dream of such things, when you are so comely.”

You try not to roll your eyes. Men under the influence of Impetus Amor are intolerable.

You catch a hold of his hand, which is grabbing your right wrist, and wrench him off you. “Jungkook, I am refusing you for your own good.”

“I do not believe that to be true,” Jungkook says as you pry yourself from him, and begin to scour your shelves for any bottles that appear to be running low. The duke’s son follows you around like a lovesick puppy while you pull out a piece of parchment and begin walking along the shelves taking note of vials and containers that are running empty, so you can get fresh ingredients at the next opportunity. Your hands need to be busy. You feel hapless otherwise.

“I truly believe,” Jungkook pipes up behind you, “That even when this potion wears off, I will still be in love with you. I believe that I have been in love with you for a while.”

You snort a laugh, “You truly do amuse me, Jungkook.”

“Is it so hard to believe I could fall for you?”

You spin around to face Jungkook. He is much closer than you anticipated. A gasp breaks your lips.

“Listen, little alchemist,” his eyes bore into yours, as you step back, your spine pressing against the shelf behind you, “I’ve been trying to fight these feelings, for I know my father would not approve of a woman who is not noble-born, yet I still find myself drawn to you. I wander aimlessly to your shop, just to catch a glimpse of you, just to feel the warmth of your company. And you would scoff at this?”

Your mouth goes dry, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. The words are difficult to get past your teeth. “You’re lying. It’s just the potion talking.”

“Why would I lie?” Jungkook’s eyes are troubled, “I’ve been falling slowly, ever since I met you. I tried to push off the feelings by treating you harshly. I tried to forget them in the arms of another lover. But still… I always find myself coming back to you.” He lifts a hand, fingers gentle against your cheek. You shiver at his touch. “It’s always you, little alchemist.”

Your lips curl in amusement. “You almost convinced me Jungkook. You speak so earnestly…” You take his hand in your own, pull it away from your face, and let it drop to his side.

His eyes cloud over. “Being unable to touch you, it hurts me physically, you know.”

“I know.” A shard of sympathy embeds in your chest. “It won’t last long though, I promise. I’ll cure you soon.”

“While we wait,” Jungkook’s eyes are dark, “Could you spare me one kiss? Just to ease the pain?”

“Jungkook,” your hand goes to his chest, rising up to rest on his shoulder, “The potion worked. You lost the wager. You were only to get a kiss if you won.”

“Please,” the word falls soft from his mouth.

You stand transfixed, stuck between your shelf of potions, and Jungkook’s body. His face is mere inches from your own. A dreadful curiosity sweeps over you, one that you know you should ignore. Yet, Jungkook is here before you, eyes urgent, and you are tired of fighting him.

“One kiss,” you murmur, “That’s all I’ll allow.”

His hands find purchase on your waist as he moves closer. Your eyelids flutter shut as his breath fans your cheeks, smelling of rose and gold dust. His lips are warm as they settle on your own, mapping out your mouth. You fall captive to the sensation, and suddenly, you understand the appeal that draws countless women to Jungkook’s side. He may be a pain in the arse, but he is wonderfully skilled when it comes to kissing.

Pressed against the shelf, you give in to the affections from a man you were sure you hated. You promise yourself, as his lips part from yours, that you will wipe this feeling from your memory. Yet, even as Jungkook draws back, the ghost of his warmth haunts you.

Lost for words, you blink in the dim light of your shop, suddenly too bright after the dark of closed eyelids. Jungkook leans back against the counter, eyes fixed on you. You struggle, unsure what to say. Instead of saying anything, you simply return to the chores you had assigned yourself, mechanically checking off ingredients on your piece of parchment.

At the counter, Jungkook is suspiciously silent. After a long pause, he finally asks, “What will happen to me when the effects of the potion are cured?”

You turn back to him. “You will forget most of this. It will all feel hazy, like a dream. And you’ll feel a little unwell. Headaches are normal after such strong potions take effect. Some people also suffer nausea, but that depends on one’s constitution. You’ll only suffer for an hour or so, then it should wear off.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Jungkook says gently.

You swallow, understanding, “Your feelings will depart. Whatever you are feeling for me now will be replaced with your genuine feelings, so you’ll go back to hating me I suspect.”

Jungkook’s face falls, “I don’t hate you.”

“Well then you’ll go back to mild indifference,” you say, turning back to your shelf to continue working, while Jungkook sits down at the counter, silent.

The hours drag on, with Jungkook’s eyes following your every move. Occasionally, he expresses a desire for physical contact to stop the pain. When he does so, you return to his side, and gently press your palm to his. The action seems to be enough for him.

At last, the hour glass has run through twice, and the potion is ready. You carefully decant it into a vial, and set it in front of Jungkook.

He catches your gaze, “I… I don’t want this.”

“Jungkook, please,” you press your hand to his one last time, “You need to. No matter what, the Impetus Amor will wear off. I’ll still be here when you’re cured.”

His face firms into an expression your don’t recognise, and with a resolute, swift motion, he tips the contents of the vial into his mouth in one go, swallowing with a groan. “You did not warn me that it would taste repulsive.”

“You were already reluctant to take it.”

Jungkook groans again, lowering his head so that his forehead rests on the wooden counter top, “By the goddess, I feel like death. Do you have a potion for a headache?”

“Not one caused by the after effects of Impetus Amor,” you say, “But I do have herbal tea.”

“Yes please.”

Glad to have a task to distract you, you busy yourself with boiling the water and fetching tea leaves.

From his spot at the counter, Jungkook moans, “I embarrassed myself greatly, didn’t I?”

Watching a pleasing golden red spread out from the tea leaves into the boiled water, you reply, “That depends on what you deem to be embarrassing.”

Jungkook grimaces as he lifts his head slightly, then, upon reconsideration, lowers his head again. The colour has drained from his face.

“I imagine you were acting the way you normally would around any fair lady you intended to woo. You were fine. Quite respectful, actually.”

“Please, I don’t wish to remember,” Jungkook moves his head so that his cheek now rests on the counter.

You pass a cup of fresh tea across to him, ‘That should make you feel a little better,” you say.

“I owe you a ‘thank you’,” Jungkook raises his head to blow on the steam rising from the tea cup, “And an apology as well, I fancy.”

You pause, not expecting to hear those words from him.

“I’ve been an arse,” Jungkook says.

“It’s not often you and I agree on something, Jungkook.”

He laughs wryly. “Well, I can’t deny it, can I? I wasted your time and energy today, and for that, I am sorry. From, Jeon Jungkook, son of the duke of Braewyth, to you, master alchemist and potions-brewer extraordinaire, as my equal, please accept my sincere apologies, and my humble gratitude.” He bows his head.

You are unsure how to react, throat tight. All you can muster is an insincere chuckle, and a feeble “No need to be so formal... If you really want to apologise you can give me the gold you promised since it would appear I won this wager.”

“Oh, right!” Jungkook digs in his pockets.

Suddenly, strangely, you feel unsure of yourself. “Listen, I was just joking. I don’t need the money. Really...”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook dumps a sack of coin on the table. “It’s yours, fair and square.” He grins at you and takes a sip of his tea. “This brew really seems to be helping.” As he downs the rest f the cup, you busy your hands with the bottles on your shelf, straightening them so they stand in a tidy row. Jungkook glances through the window of your shop, where the sky above the roofs of the town is turning gold with the setting of the sun. “I’d better head off,” he says, “My father arranged a ball for the eligible women of Braewyth to attend, and he’s hoping I’ll meet someone there. And by someone, I mean specifically Lady Antille from the province of Armestice.” He grimaces. “I’ve heard she’s a dreadful bore. Not to mention there’ll be lots of business men at the dance, hoping to make a good impression, and get funding from my father’s treasury. So overall, I have a very pleasant evening ahead of me.”

“Do you think you’ll ever find a woman you’re happy with?” you ask.

Jungkook wavers on the question, “I’m… not sure. I think I’m cursed by the fact that most noble women are not at all appealing to me.”

You shrug, “It’s all just a pantomime isn’t it? Performing the proper etiquette. Perhaps once the women have a chance to drop the pretence of politeness, you’ll get to know them for who they truly are, and you’ll realise they aren’t as bad as you think.”

“Perhaps,” he looks unconvinced, “But I doubt I’ll have the time for that. My father is hoping I’ll drop down to one knee and propose as soon as I lock eyes with the right woman.”

“Maybe Lady Antille will be the lucky one,” you say.

“The longer this goes on, the more I worry my father will simply pick a lady for me, and force me to marry.”

“I hope not.”

He nods, “Yes. So do I.” He turns for the door.

“Enjoy your evening, Jungkook.”

He pauses at the door, and turns back to look at you, with a gentle smile. “You’ve started calling me Jungkook instead of Mr. Jeon,” he notes.

“Oh, sorry,” your hand springs to your mouth, “Is it improper?”

“A little bit improper,” He smiles, “I like it.”

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Goodbye...” He looks into your eyes, sunshine bathing him from the windows, and your name is soft on his lips. Not ‘little alchemist’. Not ‘wench’. Not ‘my dear’. Just your name. A warmth spreads from your stomach through the rest of your body.

You smile as he closes the door behind him, leaving you alone with the smell of herbal tea filling the shop.

✽ ✽ ✽

As darkness descends on your shop, the sun sinking lower, a lady enters. You recognise the red hood, lowered over her eyes and nose.

“Good evening,” you welcome her as you would all other customers.

Rather than greeting you, she simply asks, “Is the Impetus Amor ready?” Her tone is hushed, despite being the sole customer in your store.

Thankful that you had the foresight to create more than one batch of the potion, you fetch it from your cupboard and place the vial on the counter top in front of her. The potion shines, pearlescent in the fading sunshine.

The lady pushes back a blonde lock from her face, and her shapely lips smile below her hood. “Wonderful. Thank you.” She tales the vial, and places it into her purse. You notice her splendid gown beneath the folds of her red cloak. Only a rich lady could afford such a potion. And such expensive silk. You sigh, despite yourself.

The lady tosses another pouch of gold onto the counter top. “I trust that you will not tell anyone of this exchange.”

You pause, wondering what she means. “All my customer’s orders are confidential,” you assure her.

She nods, satisfied, and swivels on her heel, exiting the shop. As she leaves, she bumps into an older lady who is making her way into your shop. You recognise the older lady, Myrrh, who is one of your regulars. The younger lady’s red hood slips down as she passes Myrrh, revealing a head of golden curls.

“Oh, sorry dear,” Myrrh says.

The golden haired lady bows her head, quickly pulling up her hood again. “Think nothing of it.” With that, she slips into the darkening evening.

Myrrh approaches your counter, while you retrieve her order from the shelf behind you – Fons Iuventae, for aches and pains afflicting old joints. “Well, I never realised you got such fancy clientele in your store, dear,” Myrrh observes, as she counts out her silver coins for you.

You smile, “Her appearance here surprised me as much as it did you, Myrrh.”

The older lady chuckles, ‘Imagine! Lady Antille, in this shop! The store will be the talk of the town soon, I’m sure.”

“Lady Antille?”

Myrrh gives you a strange look as she hands her coins across to you. “You didn’t recognise the Lady of Armestice?”

You shake your head.

“Ah, well now you know,” Myrrh says, “Imagine, me bumping into her like that.” She takes her bottle of Fons Iuventae and heads for the door. You follow behind her, and flip over your store sign to ‘Closed’ once she leaves. The last dregs of sunlight seep through the window. With the shop shut for the night, you go and sit behind the counter, thoughts running at a thousand miles a minute. You know that you should not concern yourself with your customer’s potion usage. After all, you simply provide. You are not responsible for the actions that follow. Yet, you cannot help but have your suspicions.

Before you realise what you are doing, you pick up a vial of Aphrodite’s Cure from yoru counter. Your body leads you to the door, grabbing your satchel, and your cloak, pulling it around you before you step out onto the cobbled street. Your feet lead you to the stable, where you quickly saddle up your mare, and spur her into the dark of night.

The road that leads out of Sientha winds down towards the large mansion where the duke of Braewyth resides. Everyone in Braewyth is familiar with the sugar white house that stands tall, behind a maze of rose bushes. As you ride towards the mansion, rain begins to pelt down, stinging at your cheeks. You continue regardless, pressing your heels into your mare’s side, encouraging her on. You push her harder than you’ve pushed her before, hurtling down the road at a frantic gallop. The mare’s breathing is hard, foam flies from her mouth. Dirt flies from her hooves, kicking up the mud washed onto the road.

Ahead of you, past the sheets of rain, you spot the lights of the Braewyth mansion. Reigning in your mare, you stop her a few paces before the gate, and tie her by one of the trees. She’s breathing heavily, and you give her a reassuring pat before you make for the gates.

A guard, who was leaning lazily against the gate, stands to attention when you approach, raising his spear. “Halt.”

“Please,” you hold up your hands to him, showing that you are unarmed, “I wish to speak with Jeon Jungkook.”

The guard squints at you through the rain. “And who might you be?”

You hesitate. “I’m his alchemy tutor.” Technically not a lie.

“I wasn’t told you would be arriving,” the guard says, “Do you have an invitation to the ball that you can show me?” He sweeps a skeptical gaze over your trousers, flecked with mud, and your fur hood, soaked with rain.

“Please, it’s urgent,” you say.

In the gloom, you see the guard raise his eyebrows.

You wrack your brain, “I have a potion for Jeon Jungkook. He asked me to deliver it to him personally before the ball began.”

“He never told me of this plan.”

Just then, by the mercy of the universe – or perhaps the goddess – Jungkook appears at the other side of the gate.

“Ah, Mr. Jeon,” the guard smiles at you gleefully, hoping to have caught you in a lie, “Have you met this wench before?”

Jungkook walks up to the gate, “Of course. Let her in at once.”

The guard’s mouth hangs open for a slit second, before he quickly corrects his expression, and bows to the heir of Braewyth. “Yes. Right away!” He opens the gate, and scurries to get out of your way.

You hurry over the threshold, and begin walking with Jungkook towards the Braewyth mansion.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asks, once you are out of earshot of the guard.

“What about you?” you say, “Do you make it a habit to walk around the garden while it’s tipping it down with rain?”

“I needed some fresh air, and I heard a commotion from the gate,” Jungkook explains, “But I really think you’re the one who ought to be explaining yourself.”

“I...” you’re unsure where to begin, “Has Lady Antille arrived yet?”

“Not yet,” Jungkook says, “Now, will you please stop answering my question with more questions.”

“Sorry,” you swallow, suddenly realising how silly your reasoning will sound.

Jungkook waits, while you remain silent, walking down the path through the rose bushes.

You take a deep breath, “This may sound mad, but I have reason to believe that Lady Antille plans to use Impetus Amor on your tonight.”

Jungkook’s expression turns frosty. “You’re not jesting?”

You nod. “I could be wrong. But the lady who purchased Impetus Amor was Antille. I did not recognise her at first. I suppose it could merely be coincidence, and she is using it for someone else, but I wanted to warn you, just in case.”

Jungkook is grave. “I suppose it would make sense. After all, a marriage into the Braewyth duchy would be beneficial for the province of Armestice.  The province is too small to defend itself, so would be willing to seek the protection of a more powerful duchy.” He turns his eyes to you. “Will you be able to stay here with me tonight? I must be in attendance at the ball, and avoiding Lady Antille there is out of the question. If she does try anything, will you be ready to help me?”

You nod, “I have the cure in my satchel, just in case.”

Jungkook nods, taking your hand, and leading you up the marble steps to the mansion door. “Alright, if you’re staying, then you need to get changed.”

“Excuse me?”

“I do not mean to offend, but your trousers won’t be acceptable attire for the ball.”

You swallow as you step into the house. The hallways are greater – both wider and taller - than you had anticipated, with lush white carpets that your feet sink into. You wince at the mud trailed in by your boots.

“Whyn!” Jungkook calls, and a flushed looking maid appears on cue, bowing before him.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

“Can you help my lady friend? She needs to be cleaned up, and needs more appropriate attire for the ball.”

“Of course, Mr. Jeon.”

Before you can even get a word in, you are being herded down the corridor by Whyn, who appears overly eager to do Jungkook’s bidding. You’re pushed into the bathroom, and the last you see of Jungkook is his smile as Whyn closes the door on him.

The bathroom is lavish, tiled with white marble. Ornate sculptures depicting gryphons stand at each corner of the room. Steps lead down to a pool of warm water, from which steam rises, smelling of lavendar. A statue of a stag stands proudly at the centre of the water, with a beautiful woman depicted standing beside him, naked. She holds an urn above the pool, and water pours from the urn into the large bath.

Without any warning, or any chance to protest, Whyn strips you down, and pushes you to the water’s edge. “Quickly, m’am,” she urges, “The ball will be starting soon.”

Grumbling, you step down into the water. However, it’s impossible to continue complaining as the warmth envelops you, easing all the aches in your body. You sink down with a sigh, dipping your head under, and letting your hair become fully soaked.

However relaxing the bathing experience is, you know you need to get back to Jungkook quickly, so after a quick once over with soap, you reluctantly leave the embrace of the sweet smelling water.

Whyn is ready and waiting with a warm towel. She starts drying you off, and you complain that you can dry yourself, but she shushes you stubbornly. “Please, ma’m, let me do my job!”

Once your hair and body are towelled dry, Whyn helps you into the ornate dress she has picked for you. You’ve never worn a dress this fancy before, and until this point, you never understood why ladies needed maids to help them get dressed. Now, as Whyn scurries around you, lacing up your corset, and adjusting your petticoat, you understand. The dress has so many buttons, clasps, and ribbons, that it would take an eternity to dress yourself.

The maid finally helps you pull back your hair, pinning it off your face, so it curls elegantly to frame your cheeks. She steps back to admire her handiwork, allowing you to take in your full reflection in the mirror beside the bath. It’s surprising what a maid’s touch can do. You barely recognise yourself. A regal lady stares back at you from the mirror in a shimmering sapphire-coloured dress, with golden stitching around the bodice, detailing embroidered roses.

“Is it alright, m’am?” Whyn asks, “If you don’t like it, I can find another dress.”

“No, thank you, Whyn,” you smile at her, “It’s perfect.”

The girl flushes and bows her head.

You find your original clothes folded neatly in the corner of the room. You rummage in your satchel, and find your vial of Aphrodite’s Cure, tucking it under your corset for safe-keeping. You turn back to Whyn. “I’m ready.”

The maid leads you out of the bathroom down a snaking maze of corridors, until you reach a set of grand mahogany doors. She pushes the doors open for you, and indicates that you should go in.

You whisper your thanks to her again, and then walk into the ballroom. Inside, the dancing has not yet started, and the room is filled with groups of people, conversing with one another. You spot Jungkook at the far corner, by a set of wide windows that look out onto the garden, which is illuminated by lanterns. You walk over, and a smile erupts on Jungkook’s face as soon as he spots you. He steps forward to greet you.

“Whyn has done a fine job,” he says, casting an admiring glance over you.

You feel you face heat up, unsure how to respond.

“If anyone asks,” Jungkook continues, in a low voice, linking his arm through yours and leading you along the ballroom floor, “You are my personal friend. You needn’t give any more information than that.”

You nod, glancing around nervously, “Has Antille arrived?”

“I haven’t seen her yet,” Jungkook says. “I truly hope your fears are unjustified. But if they’re true, I want you by my side, okay?”

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on wandering off alone.” Looking around the room, you notice many of the people staring at you. “Why are they looking at us?”

“Well, you are walking arm in arm with the heir of Braewyth, who’s rumoured to be in the market for a wife. People are going to be gossiping about our betrothal as we speak.”

You blush at the thought, allowing Jungkook to lead you around the room, stopping every so often to speak with groups of important sounding people.

Every so often, the door will open and someone will announce the name of the eligible young lady who has entered. The lady will smile and curtsey, and then everyone will go on about their business.

You find yourself stuck in an arduous conversion with an old noble, named Lord Chaperlet, about the effects of increased wheat tax, when the doors to the ballroom open once more, and the announcer cries, “Presenting to you, the Lady of Armestice, the honourable Antille.”

You raise onto your tiptoes to catch a glance at the lady over the heads of the crowd that has gathered.

She’s wearing a gold dress that trails across the floor like spilled champagne , her hair curled perfectly around her face. Lord Chaperlet stops wittering on about wheat tax to stare at the young Lady. “Antille truly is a beauty, is she not?” He winks at Jungkook, who gives a diplomatic chuckle, and says, “Now, now, Lord Chaperlet, what would your wife say if she overheard you?”

The older man gives a hearty laugh. Jungkook’s arm remains interlocked with yours, and shows no sign of budging. You swallow your nerves as Lady Antille approaches.

The lady pauses momentarily upon seeing you by Jungkook’s side, and a flash of ice glazes her gaze before she corrects her expression to a polite smile, and makes her way forward.

“Jeon Jungkook,” she coos, “How are you? It’s a pleasure to meet you. You look as handsome as your portraits portray you.”

Jungkook gives a courteous smile, “I’m wonderful thank you.” He takes the hand she proffers him, kissing her fingers, as is the custom when greeting noble women. “And how are you?”

“Fantastic,” Antille smiles, “Although the coach journey here was frightful! The rain was atrocious. Hence my late arrival, you see.”

“Fashionably late, I would say,” Jungkook replies, and Antille giggles behind her white-gloved hand.

You are out of your depth, silently observing this display of courtly manners.

Antille finally glances your way, in the manner one might glance across at an old dog scratching its fleas in the corner. “And who is this?”

You swallow. You may look different in your gown, but you know she has recognised you from your potions store.

Jungkook answers in your silence. “This is my personal friend.” His arm is still slung through yours. His reassuring fingers squeeze you.

“Is that so?” Antille worries her crimson bottom lip with her teeth for a second, her gaze lingering on you, sizing you up.

It’s a relief when Whyn passes with a tray of glasses filled with champagne, moving between you and Antille. “Would you like a drink?” The maid keeps her head bowed.

Antille takes a glass, and hands it to Jungkook, before taking one for herself, “Might as well enjoy oneself.” She raises her glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook brings the glass to his lips. A flash of worry sparks in your head – the only reason you are here is to stop Jungkook from ingesting any potion. Yet, Antille seems happy to drink the champagne...

Instinctively, your fingers tighten around Jungkook’s arm.

A vague scent of rose water and crushed gold floats towards you.

Jungkook glances at you, confused, before understanding floods into his eyes.

Wracking your brain for a good excuse to leave, your hand springs to your neck, feigning surprise. “Oh, I’ve just noticed! My necklace is gone. I was wearing it when I arrived here, but now it’s gone.”

Jungkook picks up on your cue. “Perhaps it fell off in the hallway by the entrance when you took off your cloak. I’ll help you search.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Antille chimes in. “Your friend can manage by herself. After all, everyone in this ballroom is here to speak with you personally, Jungkook. People might talk if you were to leave.”

Seeing Jungkook struggling, you begin sniffing, forcing your eyes to water. “The necklace belonged to my late mother. I can’t believe I was so careless...”

Jungkook hands you a handkerchief so you can dab at your fake tears, and before Antille can say anything else, he escorts you out of the room.

Once the doors of the the ballroom close behind you, you give up your act, following Jungkook down the twisting hallways.

“This is bad,” he mutters, “I should have been more careful. And after your warned me as well!” His hand is firm on your wrist, leading you up a set of stairs, before he slips into a room and quickly bolts the door shut behind him.

You find yourself in a lavish bathroom, this one different from the one you bathed in. Cherub angels are carved into the white frosting-coloured ceiling.

“You need to stay calm,” you tell Jungkook. “It’s going to be okay.”

Jungkook grimaces, “Don’t you understand? That glass came from Whyn’s tray. Antille must have specifically asked her to spike the glass that she would then give me.”

“Maybe Whyn didn’t know what it was,” you suggest.

“Even if she didn’t, a maid shouldn’t put anything into a drink they serve. She’ll loose her job. It’s a shame, I liked her.”

“That’s not the main issue right now,” you remind him, rummaging in the folds of your dress for the vial of Aphrodite’s Cure, “You need to take this.” You hold up the glass to him.

Jungkook smiles, “I’m glad you’re so reliable.”

“I do my best.”

Jungkook makes to take the vial from you, but you pull back, “Wait. You need to take the antidote after the potion actually kicks in.”

“How will  I know when that is?” Jungkook asks.

“Even if you don’t notice, I will,” you say, “You’ll start talking gibberish about how in love you are. And you’ll feel a sudden rush of emotion for the first person you looked at after you drank the potion… which was me, I think.”

“Right, of course. A rush of emotions.” He presses his lips together. “Perhaps, for the sake of clarity, I should confess something in that case...”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

“The trouble is,” Jungkook continues “I believe I have already developed feelings for you.”

When you open your mouth, he holds up a hand to stop you. “Before you say anything – no, the potion hasn’t kicked in yet. I’ve felt this way for a while. I just didn’t know how to deal with these feelings, so I’ve repressed them.”

Your heart rises in a flurry of childish giddiness. You don’t know where the feelings come from, but are surprised to find that you desperately hope he is telling the truth. “Perhaps we should wait until you take the antidote, and then we’ll talk about this...”

His eyes glaze over, strange and distant, “My dear, these feelings will remain unwavering, I promise.”

You press the potion into his hands. “Drink,” you command.

He nods, uncorking the vial, and tipping the contents into his mouth. “Goddess, that tastes vile,” he groans. He sucks a breath through his teeth. With his head lowered, he takes a few seconds to recover, before he murmurs, “Thank you.”

You remain silent, not sure what to say. Your mind is still racing over Jungkook’s earlier confession. He said it wasn’t the potion causing the words to fall from his mouth. Yet, you cannot be sure. A part of you is unexpectedly sad at the though that his profession of love was simply the potion speaking.

Somehow, despite your determination to hate him, you are surprised to find that you love him.

Jungkook raises his head, eyes fixed on yours, “Without you I would have made a complete fool of myself. Not to mention, I probably would have ended up betrothed to Antille, which...” he blows out a sigh. “Let’s not dwell on that. Thank you for all your help. I know I’ve treated you poorly in the past, but you’ve still helped me regardless. That’s the sign of a good person.”

You bite down on your cheek, “Jungkook?”

“Yes?”

“What you said...” Once you start, the words keep spilling, “Before the potion kicked in. About being in love with me. Did you mean that?”

“Sorry, it was improper of me to simply dump that upon you all of a sudden,” Jungkook says, “I suppose I should have kept that to myself. I’ve tried to ignore these feelings, since my father would not approve of someone who is not noble-born. I tried to push the feelings away by treating you brusquely, by distracting myself with other women, but none of it worked.”

“So you mean?”

His gaze is inescapable, “I love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Jungkook chuckles, but his tone is earnest, “Sorry, you look like a startled deer. I know it’s improper to confess without suitable courtship first, but our relationship has always been a little unconventional. Spending my time with you, I was fascinated by you. And that fascination turned into something I’ve never felt before. I’ve never been so open or honest with anyone else. You’ve seen the worst parts of me, and you’ve stuck around despite all that.” His cheeks colour, “I truly am just rambling now, please feel free to tell me to shut up.”

You’re still waiting for the part where Jungkook suddenly says, “It’s merely a jape!” His face is serious.

“Jungkook, I… I don’t know what to say...”

“Then don’t say anything, you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to, I just… the words evade me...” you bite your lip, “Your confession certainly came as a surprise, although not an unwelcome one...”

Jungkook’s eyes shine. 

“I’m very happy,” you say, “I would be lying if I said I do not have similar feelings for you. I never thought it would be okay to fall in love with a noble, so I never allowed myself the liberty of even thinking...” You hesitate, “Is it really okay for me to love you?”

Jungkook nods, “Nothing would make me happier.”

“But your father?”

“It’s okay. We’ll make it work. The tradition of nobles courting nobles is ver old-fashioned anyway. I never liked it. Eventually, my father will accept whom I choose. And I choose you.”

He takes your hand, delicately bringing your fingers to his lips. The action is so simple, so gentle – a far cry from the kiss you had shared earlier – yet it feels so strangely intimate with his eyes drinking you in, while his warm mouth caresses your skin.

His lips work their way up to your wrist, then your forearm, then your shoulder, then your cheek, then grazing the side of your mouth. You let him kiss you properly, melting into his warmth, while the carved cherubs smile down at you from above.

Parting, Jungkook sighs, “I wish I could enjoy this without the after effects of Impetus Amor... My head’s killing me...”

You smile, “Don’t worry. There’ll be time for all of this later. I’m not planning on leaving your side.” You hold his hand tight in your own. “For now, let’s go to the kitchen, and see if we can find some herbal tea for you.”

✽ ✽ ✽

After a cup of strong tea, Jungkook has perked up, ready to return to the ballroom. He holds your hand in his own as you make your way down to the main hallway. You can hear string instruments harmonising to a waltz from the ballroom. The dancing seems to have started in your absence.

“I hope you’ll dance with me tonight,” Jungkook says.

“Won’t people talk if they see us together?” you ask.

“Let them,” Jungkook says. “I’ll announce our relationship when you feel ready, and not a second before.”

You smile, “In that case, I’d love to dance with you.”

As you enter the ballroom, Antille glances over at the two of you and blanches. Jungkook lets go of your hand, and walks over to her, asking if she is willing to speak with him.

Antille looks around, as if considering her escape routes, but agrees to go with Jungkook – with obvious reluctance. Jungkook draws her to the edge of the room, away from the dancing couples that glide around the ballroom floor. Where the two of them stand, you can hear their conversation well, although they are tucked away from the rest of the ball guests.

“Antille,” Jungkook says, “I know what you have attempted to do.”

Antille glowers, “Attempted to do? What are you talking about?”

Jungkook continues, “I have enough proof to have you publicly disgraced, but I am willing to let you leave with your dignity intact, so long as you never set foot in this house again.”

“Threaten me all you want,” Antille hisses, “But know that you have made an enemy of Armestice today.”

Jungkook’s face twists into a frown, “That’s not a game you want to play, Lady Antille, believe me. The duchy of Braewyth is not one to be messed with.”

Antille is pale. Her eyes fall to you, and anger flashes vividly in her irises. “I thought I made it clear that my purchase was to be kept a secret.”

Jungkook steps closer to you, “Don’t, Antille,” he warns, “Your quarrel isn’t with her.”

The lady, visibly flustered, turns on her heel towards the door. You watch as she leaves the room.

Jungkook turns his attention to you. “Please don’t worry about her. I know what Armestice is capable of, and it isn’t much. Her threats are simply to stir up fear, but she won’t act on them.”

You smile as he threads his fingers through yours, “Now, would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

You are aware of the eyes boring into you from all sides as you step onto the dance floor with Jungkook, but in that instant, you don’t care. Jungkook is beside you, his eyes on your face, and a smile on his lips.

For now, that’s enough.

✽ ✽ ✽

It’s a cold morning, but the early spring sunshine is shining stubbornly despite the chill as you walk back to your shop. You have a basket of fresh herbs in your hand, picked from the mountain side.

As you turn the corner onto your street, a smile breaks across your face, recognising a familiar figure standing by your door.

You run over to Jungkook, setting down your basket of herbs, so you can freely fling both arms around him.

He grins, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Good morning.”

You unlock the shop door, and let him enter. It’s still an hour until your shop will open for business.

“How has your morning been so far?” you ask Jungkook, throwing off your cloak, and hanging it by the door.

“Good,” Jungkook says, “The new maid prepared a wonderful breakfast. Eggs and bacon and fresh bread.”

“Sounds much better than the oatmeal I had,” you say.

“Once our relationship is officially made public, you can move into the mansion with me,” Jungkook says, “Then you can have all the eggs and bacon and fresh bread you want.”

You begin sorting the freshly picked herbs into piles on the counter, while Jungkook runs an eye over the potions you have sitting out from brewing last night.

“That will be nice,” you say, “Although I will miss this old shop.”

“I’m sure we can set up a room in the mansion where you can have a workshop to continue brewing potions. People would pay well for potions brewed by the heir of Braewyth’s wife.”

You blush at the word ‘wife’, a thrill travelling through you. 

Jungkook eyes some of your older equipment, “We can even get you some new tools. Some of these seem a little… rusty.”

“They’ve served me well, I’ll have you know.”

“Just a suggestion.” He sticks his tongue out at you.

You grin at him, “So what did you want from me this morning? We could continue your alchemy lessons… or...”

Jungkook moves around the counter to be by your side. His hands find  your waist, pulling you closer. “Well I had a few plans of my own.”

Your fingers curl through his charcoal hair. “I’m listening.”

Jungkook ducks his head down, his breath ghosting against your ear as he whispers his plan with words that make you blush scarlet. Desire pools inside you as his lips trace a path down your neck to your collar bone, “Don’t think you’re getting out of your alchemy lesson later.”

“Yes, m’am,” he grins, taking your hand in his own.

You let him lead you from your shop up the creaky stairs to your living quarters. You are happy to forget all responsibilities for the next hour, completely lost in Jungkook. You never believed a love potion could lead to true love – yet here you are, completely enveloped in Jungkook, overwhelmed by feeling. You don’t believe in the goddess but you thank her now, thank her that she decided to ruin your life by thrusting Jungkook into it.

The man you hated more than anything in the world has now become the man you love more than anything, and you couldn’t be happier for it.

- THE END -

➝ author’s note: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it. 

[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.7)

Summary:  you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title

Words: 3412

Episode: seven

Warning: PTSD, vomiting

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Six

Time: 8:01am 

Date: October 7th 2024

Were you running late?

 Yes.

Your final appointment with Bruce was today and it was scheduled for 8:00 in the morning, you had set your alarm with enough time to get there but Bucky had other plans. While you were getting up Bucky snaked his metal arm around you, he knew you couldn’t break out of it, he pulled you back in his chest so you could stay for a little longer but you managed to bribe him after giving a few kisses down his neck. As you sucked his hand relaxed and when he didn’t see it coming and you snuck out to your bathroom to get ready for the day, you knew he was too tired to get up and pull you back. 

The surgery for both your nose and removing the serum went without a hitch, though you did have a panic attack a day later because it seemed too good to be true for you, everything else went fine. Bruce managed to take samples of your skin and make them into cartilage for your nose, it took a couple days for it to marry and accept your face, it would turn really red and then lose all colour in a matter of minutes. The serum removal took longer than expected, and it turns out what Bruce’s lab was creating wasn’t what he was expecting. The antibiotic would actually get into your bloodstream and split the serum from the red blood cells, but it wouldn’t remove them, the serum would still circulate in your body but just next to the red blood cells. 

A heart-lung by-pass machine was used while you were sedated, you could have been awake but seeing your blood fill a tube and then go back into you while a bag filled with blue liquid was just extra trauma you didn’t want to see. There were always complications with being sedated, but Bucky supported you no matter what. You weren’t left feeling sick after but like you hadn’t slept in days, you found there was a difference between waking up from passing out like you did in the cell and just lack of sleep, Bucky had looked at you quizzically when you said it randomly, but you couldn’t seem to explain. 

You still get headaches from time to time, it normally comes from that same spot in the back of your head and high on your neck, you’d feel around for a scab or scar but would find nothing. There was a bump when you’d checked recently but it seemed as though it was a goose egg form getting hit, but that was so long ago. You didn’t talk about your bump much because you thought people would look at you crazy, some people already did; while others looked at you like you were a ghost. 

As you walked to Banner's lab an agent stopped talking to her friend to look you up and down, and hand came to cover her mouth but you saw the smirk in her eyes. You just shrugged and turned into the lab. 

“You’re late,” Bruce said, he was sat on his stool with everything in hand, clipboard and pen at the ready. 

“Sorry,” you smiled and sat down. 

Bruce began to do the checks, he got good at hiding that he was taking blood, he’d point across the room to show a floating hologram of all your vitals and while you were reading over them he’d quickly stick the needle in to draw a bit of blood. 

He did the same except he pinched your thigh as he stuck in the needle point to make your attention go to your leg instead of the inside of your elbow. 

“Ow!” you slapped his hand away, “I’m used to it by now, and I also trust you and know you’re not trying to stick a foreign serum into me.'' You shook your head and read the file that was left open, “I can’t believe it’s my last test,” you sighed and leaned back in the chair. 

The whirl of the centrifuge wasn’t too loud, Bruce stood beside it with one arm holding his weight on the desk. He watched as you looked over the file again and again, your finger would trace the words and slowly find their way to the corner of the page to flip. The further you got into the file the further back you went, Bruce noticed you tend to stay on your injury report page a bit longer than the others, you’d study the little picture of a person and all the ‘X’s that were drawn where you got hurt; you could barely see the human drawing underneath. He’d watch as you read over every description of the injuries you’ve gotten, one time he asked why and you looked at him and said. 

“Because I go over how to fix each injury, so when I go back into the field I can stay on my toes.” 

But he knew you were just tired of feeling like you weren’t helping when in reality you prompted a medical breakthrough, not everyone gets infected by a mind controlling serum, but the new use of a heart-lung by-pass was being looked at by hospitals. 

Bruce took the blood out of the centrifuge and looked into the vial, there was no trace of blue like there was the first time he did it, just plasma and blood. You were still reading and he knew you’d pass his test so instead of telling you he was starting the evaluation, he just did it. 

“Close that book.” He lowered his voice which sent a boom through the lab. 

You didn’t close it but it did scare you for a second, a little jump but you went right back to reading. You weren’t trying to be mean by not listening but you had to show that you wouldn’t follow orders but rather respond like a normal human, the first day you flinched for the stool when Bruce asked you to walk it over to him but after that you tended to act like he wasn’t in the room. 

“Stand up.” he barked. 

You looked over to him, “no thanks,” you smiled, Bruce smiled back. 

“Can you stand for a second, please?” Bruce squinted and leaned back on the desk, he was challenging how you’d react to an indirect command, it was an offer rather than a command. 

“I don't know, can I?” You tilted your head to the side, a wide smile was being suppressed by a terrible poker face. 

“May you please stand?” Bruce walked over with a proud smile on his face, he was no longer challenging you. 

You just laughed and stood, “only because you asked so nicely,” you let your teeth flash while you both laughed. “Why did you choose standing? That’s like, day one stuff,” you sighed from laughing and closed the file. 

“Because I want to hug you,” he opened his arms wide, “to congratulate you. Now give me a hug, that’s an order!” he giggled but laughed even more when you pretended to scope him out, “just kidding, come ‘ere, kid.” 

You fell into a hug and wrapped your arms tightly around him, Bruce did the same. It was quick but it meant the world. “Thanks for everything, Bruce.” You smiled as you walked out of the room, “I mean it, you really helped me out.” 

“Don't mention it, you’re free!” he opened his arms wide to shew you out of his lab. 

You walked out and closed the door behind you, you only took a few steps before staring off into the distance. “I guess I am…” you muttered to yourself before continuing to walk back to your room. 

As you walked you didn’t even see Bucky in the kitchen “doll!” he called and you turned instantly, “breakfast?” he tilted the frying pan over so you could see french toast. 

Your eating and sleeping were the only things that didn’t seem to get better, nightmares plagued you every night and you could barely stomach a workout smoothie. Bucky would try his best to get you to eat but he typically ate your leftovers instead of making a meal for himself, it was hard to watch because you weren’t gaining weight and he still felt guilty when he’d touch your back and feel every ridge. 

“I’ll have a bit,” you smiled and walked over, “I’m a free bird now.” you commented as he slipped the bread on your plate. 

“Way to go, babe, I knew you could do it.” He scrunched his nose and took the stool beside you, “eat slow and as much as you want, no worries.” He kissed your temple before pulling out his phone. 

You slowly started to eat, you put the corner of the bread in your mouth and chewed slowly. The sweetness and the flavour was still overpowering, you weren’t used to this much intensity and it only made you feel nauseous. As much as Bucky acted like he wasn’t paying attention you could see his eyes look over as far as he can to gauge your reaction, when you’d catch him looking he’d just cough and look forward. You only got four bites in before turning your nose up and pushing the plate to Bucky. He didn’t want to seem disappointed but he was, not in you but rather himself, nothing was working. 

“What do you think you can eat?” He asked softly. 

“Plain yogurt?” you questioned. 

“I’ll give anything a shot,” he breathed and stood. The yogurt was far back in the fridge but he found it eventually, he poured a little bowl, “you want granola?” he asked. 

“Just yogurt,” she sheepishly replied, a thin line formed on your lips. 

He served it up and went back to eating the french toast, you scooped it up and took a spoonful. It was so plain and boring, nothing tingled on your taste buds. There was no category for it, it wasn't sweet or sour, it wasn’t savoury; it was just plain. The metallic taste from the spoon had more power than the yogurt itself. Nothing to chew, no berries or granola. 

It was perfect. 

In no time you scarfed it down, the spoon clicked on the bowl as you scraped for the ends of it. Bucky had been cooking your favourite foods to make you feel at home, you liked spice and sweetness normally. You’d turn down yogurt a month ago if it didn’t have your favourite granola in it, but what both you and Bucky didn’t realize was that you started with crazy flavours instead of the basics. Butter and bread, plain crackers, and maybe some almonds sounded great right now.  

Bucky looked over in shock to see you done with your food, he watched as you went to the pantry and pulled out some unsalted crackers. You plopped a few into your mouth and just waited to see if your body would reject it, but it didn’t.

“Guess I went too fast, too soon, huh?” he let out an unhappy laugh, “you could’ve been eating for a while…” he muttered and stood. He was exhausted, the darker circles under his eyes and the flatness of his skin didn’t go unnoticed. You woke up every night screaming and thrashing around in the bed, the sheets would be piled on the floor from your arms swinging around. As much as Bucky wanted some sleep, he knew for a fact that you’d been in disposition before, you’d been the one to gently ease him out of a nightmare for three weeks straight.   

“You did your best and I love you for it,” You smiled and leaned across the counter to kiss his lips, he sat back down again, “I would have done the same thing, if it makes you feel better.”

Bucky just rubbed his face and looked up to you, “how?” was all he asked. 

“How...what?” you giggled, but Bucky didn’t crack a smile. 

“Why are you so upbeat right now, I get it you finished your tests with Banner but, god, I don’t know how you’re so happy?” He didn’t sound angry but more in disbelief, if it were him, Bucky knew he’d be curled into a ball in the middle of the bed for days, there wouldn’t be anything to make him happy. 

You just sighed and sat down next to him again, “I’m not upbeat right now, if I’m being honest,” you looked forward and the sleek grey cupboards, “I can’t train because my stitches will fall out, I can’t run for the same reason. Half of the team treats me like fine china while the other half still punches me in the arm when they tell a funny joke, if I’m hanging out with Steve he will ask if I’m okay after every little thing while Tony doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t like sneak attacks anymore.” You wiped down your face with both hands, “my head still hurts like crazy, especially in that one spot in the back, everyone is too loud and I’ve been called ‘too quiet’ too many times for me to count.” You finally looked over to Bucky who had the saddest eyes, his lips curled down as he scanned over you, “you’re the only one who I can be, somewhat, happy around because you get it. Yes, you can be very cautious but you’ve backed off when I’ve said no and you’ve learned not to push when I can’t remember much. Bucky,” you cupped his face with one hand, you could feel him push into it, “you see me happy around you because you’re the only one who knows how to put a smile on my face right now, and I’m so happy it’s you.” Before he could say anything you pulled him in for a kiss, he hummed into it and reached up to place his hand over yours; it was still resting on his stubbled cheek. 

“I didn’t know I was doing all that right, I thought I was failing.” Bucky muttered against your lips, you could feel the sadness in his voice. 

“I still can’t lift my arm up all the way without it hurting, you wash my hair and put it in the clip when I ask, you might not have figured that food out or my nightmares but you do the little things, and that’s what makes it better.” Bucky’s arms moved down to hold you at your waist, you were still close. All he could do was smile, the kind of smile you use when you get a prize for a thing you really didn’t think mattered or when you’re embarrassed of how you fell in front of everyone; his lips turned down but his eyes smiled. 

The rest of your morning flowed into your afternoon easily, you’d spent some time just lounging in the bed and keeping each other warm. Little make-out session might brew but nothing went too far, it wouldn’t for a while and you both agreed on that. At one point you fell asleep curled up against Bucky’s chest, he stayed still and when it came time, he helped you out of your nightmare. The little kisses littered your face until you were calm again, he didn’t dare to fall asleep at this point because he knew you would too and being woken up by twitches and little pleads for help weren’t something he enjoyed for his own mental health. 

Time: 9:30pm

Date: October 7th 2024

Everyone filed into the cinema room for movie night, this was your first one since you came back. Bucky had tried to talk you out of it due to it being October and a horror movie was on the list, apparently it was a early 2000’s slasher, basically the worst movie to come back to. You were done with hiding away from the team, you wanted to see them again, scary movies didn’t bother you before because you knew they were just movies and alien killers weren’t real, you really didn’t know how much could change now. 

There was a bowl of popcorn for you and Bucky, you sat in the corner so you were nestled into the armrest and the back pillow, Bucky was on your left, cautiously watching you as Nat queued up the movie. 

“I now present,” she held her arms in front of the screen, “Camp Blood!” The movie faded in from black and a hush fell over the team. People snuggled deeping into their blankets and got ready for the movie, you just leaned your head on Bucky’s shoulder and threw a few pieces of popcorn- without butter -in your mouth.

Not even a half an hour later you were really shaken up, the gore and the blood had slowly broken down your walls and gotten to your head. You had hid it so well Bucky genuinely had no idea even though he was checking in on you after every kill, a little kiss to your temple before a double check. 

“I have to pee,” you whispered to Bucky and left the room. 

You sprinted down and to the back where there was a door to the outside, the air was suffocating and you couldn’t breathe. It seemed everything you could remember was flashing in your mind all at once while new memories were coming into play, it was all so overwhelming and you couldn’t handle it. You pushed the door open and stumbled to your knees and the cold fall weather opened your lungs so wide you thought they were going to pop, the gasps came out unevenly and some were quick shots of air. Your hand was pulling and scratching at the finally held bruise on your neck, it was like you could feel the chains slowly wrapping around you like a snake's tail, coming up around your neck and squeezing tightly. 

With one push, the chains in your mind snapped and all the popcorn you had eaten came back out, right onto the deck that was power washed three days ago. A few pieces of kernels got stuck when you took your first breath in but after spitting them out you could finally breathe again. 

You sat back up on your feet and just looked into the night sky, it was too cold for you to be out here but it was peaceful. With the serum you would have been fine with this weather but that had left you, you were free now, if you wanted you could run down the grass into the forest and never see anyone ever again. It was horrifying that that idea was pleasant to you, you’d never see Bucky ever again but you could be free. 

One foot hit the grass, but then the sound of a lock pulled you from your fantasy, you looked over your shoulder to see the lights off and the red emergency lights spinning around. You ran up to bang on the door but no one could see or hear you, “let me on!” you screamed for anyone but you knew these glass doors were sound proof. “Fuck!” 

“Soldat,” you froze, the voice you remembered vividly rang through your head, you shook it off and kept pounding on the door, “they’re never going to help you,” it chanted in your mind. 

“No, let me in!” you screamed again, your head hit the glass door in defeat, the voice mocked you in your brain. You pulled away from the glass and looked into the building, but then your focal point focused on the reflection. 

“Soldat, break in and kill them all.” the voice said, the slick hair and the notch in his brow, the leader that got away. To your horror, your break straightened and your chin went up, you turned towards the man who never gave you his name. He dressed in all black and wore a Hydra pin over his heart, “you really think we’d let you get away?” he asked, “you really think we only gave you the serum?”

“What is happening?” you asked, your mind was being taken over. 

“I’ll say it again. Soldat, break in and kill them all.” his smile grew. 

You didn’t want to, but somehow the other part of you did. 

“copy.” 

And the glass shattered with one punch. 

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor @wafflesncream​​

let me know if you want a tag!!!

[empyreanwritings]

sdlkfjsd sorry in advance for the 5 more after this but yanno just to help give you options LOL

Steve x Reader where reader accidentally drank a love potion and Steve was the first person they saw 😳

Warnings: feelings confessed due to potions,,is that dubcon if it's not sexual? idk i'm still warning in case

When you first joined the team, you knew about Steve's puppy crush on you. You wrote it off as being nothing more than something superficial. Captain America wasn't someone who could just fall in love at the drop of a dime - at least that is what you convinced yourself. But he persisted.

He joined your for lunches; he checked in when he was away on missions, even when you insisted he didn't have to; and he liked to bring you small gifts to make you smile. Flowers. Baked goods. Punny cards. They always succeeded, but you still never understood why he tried so hard. You didn't see yourself as anything special against the other avengers.

Sure, you were a witch, but you weren't a superhero.

It all came to head when Steve finally asked you out on a date, and you rejected him. You didn't believe he had more than a crush on you.

"What will it take to make you believe me?" He asked with his hands on his hips in that sassy-Cap-way he always did.

"Nothing," you replied.

"Fine." You started to hear the clanking of glass behind you, and you turned just as Steve started to raise one of your potions to his lips. "This looks like the truth one, so now you'll have to believe me."

"Steve, no!"

You groaned as he drained the vial. It wasn't the truth serum. In fact, you didn't even have a truth serum, you just said that once to scare Tony into being honest with you about something he would usually lie about to cover his ass. You must have pointed out a random one, and Steve - with his stupid didactic memory - remembered.

When Steve laid eyes on you, you could see the mushiness in his eyes. You sighed. Him drinking a love potion and seeing you first didn't convince you he had feelings for you. It actually made it worse.

"I love you," he cooed and tried to cup his your cheeks, but you slapped his hands away. "Why did you do that? I-"

"Love me, got it." You pressed your hand against his chest to keep him at arms length. The first thing you could think of was call Wanda, so you pulled out your phone and quickly dialed her number. "Look what that tiny brain of yours got us into now, Rogers."

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 1 (6-13): Truth serum | Damian Wayne Protection Squad™ | Best friends to lovers

Note: Rushed. I'm sure it's still the 13th somewhere.

Warnings: kidnapping, nonconsensual drugging, needles.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick wakes to the taste of blood on his tongue.

Thankfully, after slowly moving his tongue around, it's just because he bit the inside of his cheek sometime between when he was knocked out and when he woke up. His head pounds like a war-drum with his heart as he tries to get ahold of his situation. Without opening his eyes, he assess his arms are restrained behind his back and he's sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair. His legs are also tied to the chair, keeping him from running.

The suit he wears feels suffocating, proof that—once again—him wearing Batman's cowl isn't some sort of sick joke. However, his shoulders are a bit lighter suggesting his cape has been taken. Not that he'll mourn it.

His cowl is on. He silently curses himself for not checking that first. It would be the first thing Bruce checked.

He always prioritized the identity. The mission. Secrecy before safety, Gotham before everything else. Not injuries, not friends, not family, partners-

Dick's eyes fly open, reminding him of the real thing he should have checked for first.

"Robin," he gasps out loud, looking wildly around the room and tugging on the ropes holding his back to the chair.

The room is dark and small, the walls made of cinder bricks that have water mold where it connects to the cement floor. In front of him is a metal table with a black, palm sized box placed on top. Dick ignores that for now and looks to his side, only relaxing when he finds Damian to his right, tied similarly to another chair with his chin to his chest. Only unconscious, Dick notes as he watches his stomach rise and fall.

However, anxiety flutters in his gut when he sees there's a dried trail of blood running down the side of his head.

"Robin," he tries again, knowing at the back of his head that Bruce would be telling him to be quiet. Check for cameras. Look for an escape route. Don't let them know you're awake until you have a plan-

Dick shakes his head. Damian could have a concussion, and that takes priority. Dick could have one as well, considering how badly his head hurts, but Damian is only ten years old and Dick knows better than anyone the lingering effects injuries could have when you're a child.

He presses his feet to the ground and pushes, attempting to slide closer to his protege. He does nothing more than jolt in place. There's not enough leverage.

However, it seems the sound of the metal scraping against the ground is enough to wake up the boy. He comes to with a small groan and a pain laced crease between his brow.

"Robin," Dick repeats a third time. He can do nothing but sit as Damian blinks slowly behind his mask; his shoulders tensing as he too notices the restraints.

Damian opens his mouth, but before any words could leave there's a loud clang. The door in front of Dick and Damian, on the other side of the table, swings open.

In walks three men; two are unfamiliar, but the third Dick recognizes from the case files he and Damian got from Gordon about a week ago. Jonas Gibbs. Known arms dealer and smuggler. He's made his moves in Gotham these past few weeks, getting the police and public nervous about shootings with illegal guns. Batman and Robin had finally pinned down the date, time, and location of his next shipment and intended to take him down then, but he was smart and had hired help from various mercenaries that Dick could confidently bet used to be in the military before they were dishonorably discharged.

The way they moved, worked, and attacked was too strategic and planned. It was only a matter of time before one got a lucky hit on Damian; a blow with the butt of their rifle across the kid's forehead. The barrel of the rifle pointed down at Damian's unconscious body was all it took for Dick to raise his hands in surrender.

And now they're here, in some damp old room. Tied to chairs. A table placed in front of them with a mysterious box set on top of it.

"Perfect timing," Gibbs says, grinning. The two other men, clearly mercs, stand on either side of him as he drags up a chair and sits on the other side of the table. "I was almost afraid we'd have to dump water to get you up."

"What do you want?" Dick growls. He must want something. He hasn't taken off the cowl… or at least he hasn't tried to get through the various traps to pull it off. It means he must need something that an identity reveal wouldn't give him.

"I'm glad you asked, Batman," Gibbs says, a grin spreading on his face. He looks to one of his goons and they immediately pull a small camera out from a bag they had around their shoulder. He points it at Dick.

Dick gets a bad feeling about all of this.

"I want you to tell your real name for the camera."

Dick glares. "Are you serious?"

"Very. One of my men has second degree burns thanks to that cowl of yours electrifying him. So, I decided I'll let you go without any more harm. You tell me your names, and I'll let you go. Won't even show the video to anyone. Well," he smirkes, "unless you get in my way."

Dick clenches his jaw. Besides him, Damian mumbles something.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," Gibbs says, unphased. "Otherwise it will get unpleasant."

His eyes drift to the black box, signifying it's mysterious importance. Dick doesn't let it scare him. He's not going to let this low life criminal blackmail him... put him and his family in danger. He'll take whatever will be thrown at him until he can work out a way to escape.

Gibbs counts down, and he reaches zero uninterrupted.

"Well," Gibbs says, unsurprised. "The hard way then. Gag him."

The grunts move like clockwork, and before Dick knows it his face is being grabbed and held in place while the other shoves a rag into his mouth and wraps a layer of tape around his face to hold it there.

"Batman..." he hears Damian mumble as the grunts back up. He sounds out of it. In pain. Dick can only hope that the hit he took to his head isn't too serious.

Gibbs retakes his attention, however, when he reaches forward and presses a hatch on the side of the black box, flicking it open on spring-loaded hinges. What's inside makes Dick's stomach drop. A needle and a glass vial filled with a yellow tinted liquid lays neatly inside. One of the grunts lifts the needle and the vial to begin filling it up.

"Do you know what this is?" Gibbs asks as the liquid fills the syringe. "I've yet to test it on anyone, but word is from the man I bought it from... It forces the truth out of you." The grunts finishes filling the syringe and flicks the bubbles. "Truth serum."

Dick has no doubt that the serum will work. He only wonders why he's threatening with it while he's gagged.

When the grunt walks around the table to Damian, he doesn't wonder anymore.

He can only tug on his restraints as the grunt grabs Damian's arm to aim the needle. Damian, for his effort, attempts to pull away, but the weakness of his head injury and his restraints do nothing to stop the needle from entering the inside of his elbow.

"You could have done this the easy way, Batman," Gibbs says. Dick watches as the syringe is pressed down, pushing the liquid into Damian's body. "I never like getting children involved."

Damian squeezes his jaw shut and turns his head away from the needle in his arm. It only takes a moment before the grunt pulls the empty syringe out before returning to standing besides his leader. A bead of blood appears where the needle left Damian's skin, but the boy doesn't move.

The air feels solid. Dick can hardly breathe as he tries to conceal his panic. He wants nothing more than to get out of these restraints and punch Gibbs and his men into next year, but he can't reach anything useful to do so. All he can do is watch Damian sit stock still as drugs spread through his veins.

A minute passes as Gibbs sits there in smug silence. Then, when a few more moments pass, he speaks.

"Robin," he says. Damian flinches, but doesn't look his way. His jaw still clenched. The goon with the camera points it right at Damian. "Why don't we start with something easy? What's your favorite animal?"

Damian curls his fingers behind his back and keeps his jaw grinding shut.

"Tight lipped huh?" Gibbs chuckles. He doesn't look surprised. Or worried. "Don't worry, I was assured that once it's fully in your system, it will hurt more to say nothing. What's your favorite animal, Robin?"

Damian says nothing, but he looks ridged. Tense.

"You look uncomfortable, Robin. Do you feel it in your head? I promise it will get better when you stop resisting. Let's try something different while we wait. Are you from Gotham?"

Damian's knuckles must be white under his gloves.

"How about your favorite color? Is it blue?"

Damian breathes a shaky breath through his nose, and Dick's heart breaks. He works harder to find a weakness in his restraints.

"My, your resilience is admirable. Were you trained on this?" Gibbs asks. Damian remains stubborn, but Gibbs still doesn't look worried. "Who were you trained by?"

"The best," Damian whimpers, cutting himself off with a growl and shutting his jaw. Gibbs smiles.

"What's your favorite animal?"

Damian shakes his head, a frustrated cry caught in his throat.

This continues, Gibbs finding victory in the one slip and pressing with everything he's got. Dick doesn't know how long Damian can last like this, and he doesn't want to find out. With every passing second, Dick knows it's only a matter of time before Damian's lips loosen. No amount of training can beat a good concussion and drugs designed to make your lips loose.

"What grade are you? Do you have any friends?"

After each question, Dick can see more and more discomfort in Damian's position. He's beginning to fidget and whimper and Dick's... Dick's had enough.

"What's your favorite color, Robin?"

"Green," Damian says with strangled gasp, sounding horrified with himself.

Gibbs smirks like a predator, knowing he's finally won.

"What's your real name?"

Yeah. Dick's had enough. With a hard tug, the ropes around his wrists finally snap against where he's been rubbing at them with his gauntlets. Gibbs and his men can barely react before Dick's upon them, cutting away the rest of the ropes with a batarang from his belt. He makes quick work of them in their shock, knocking them out and leaving them on the floor in unconscious piles.

He almost bends to put cable ties on their arms and legs, but he hears a tight whimper behind him. The moment after, he's rushing over to Damian to undo the ropes.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks, cutting through the bonds.

Damian shakes his head. Dick almost kicks himself.

"It's okay," he quickly says. "No one can hear. Let it out."

He's almost afraid Damian will force himself to remain silent, but to his relief and heartache, Damian opens his mouth and lets out a heaving sob. "It hurts- it hurts-"

Dick finally undoes the ropes, then he pulls his kid in close to his chest. "Get it out," he soothes, rubbing Damian's back.

"Dogs-" Damian starts, dissolving into quick rambling breaths. Every question he had been asked begins to be answered. Dick holds him close and lets him get it out with his tears. Silently, he sends a message to Gordon to pick up Gibbs and his men, then he messages Alfred to get the med-bay and lab ready. Soon enough, Damian is silent except for pain laced gasps, he holds tight to Dick's chest as Dick lifts him up and stuffs the vial with extra serum into his belt.

"I got you," he says as Damian continues to cry all the way to the batmobile. "I got you."

[stanknotstark]

Truth Serum

Hello everyone! My name is Amber and I’m not new to writing however I am new to actually posting my writing but recently I really got back into Loki with all the trailers dropping and stuff and I’ve had so many ideas crossing my mind so I figured I’d write some of my ideas out and post them here! Honestly this is my first time writing for Loki so he might be a bit OOC until I really get him under my buckle! This piece doesn’t have a lot of Loki in it because I’m also testing out writing with more than two people getting focus so I apologize in advance but I’ll probably write the 2nd piece tomorrow where Loki confronts ‘you’. Enjoy! Gif not mine!

You had just finished sweeping and mopping in Tony’s lab because there was glass on the ground. The only abnormal thing was that there was opalescent liquid in-between all the broken glass, your guess was that it must have been in some vial for safe keeping meaning you should have been careful. 

Should. Key word right there.

Realizing you had gotten some of the mystical liquid on yourself you quickly finished up cleaning then found Tony who was visiting with Steve in the living room. 

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” You incessantly said in a sing song voice as you approached, “Heya, Stevo.”

“Look there was a broken vial in your lab and you know I was down there for my blueprints and while cleaning said broken glass the liquid might have touched my skin....”

Tony frowned and Steve’s eyes widened and looked at Tony.

“Listen just tell me if I’m dying or not?”

Tony stood there staring at your face for another few seconds before you literally saw the realization hit him like a bus. Tony smiled.

“You know I’ve always had this question in the back of my brain since you said your blueprints were apparently....’Only meant for clearance level 10s’ I think I remember you saying...”

You frowned at Tony and shrugged, “I mean...no one is level 10 so don’t be offended...What does that have to do with this?”

“What exactly are those precious blueprints?”

You were going to give a witty remark but suddenly it was like word vomit and you couldn’t stop the next words from flowing out of your mouth, “They’re a new helmet I’m making for Loki that include audio, kinda like headphones, so he can listen to his favorite Mid-guardian books while on missions with us.”

Tony smirked which then turned into a full on smile before letting out a laugh. Steve looked at you with a confused puppy look on his face. You, unfortunately, realized what that liquid was.

“Tony I swear to God if that liquid I touched was a truth serum I’m literally going to castrate you!”

Tony, still laughing, put his hands up in a surrendering way and shook his head.

“I’m not the one that decided to clean up a mysterious liquid in my lab, of all places, without proper cleaning gear!”

At this point everyone in the room was looking at you three. Natasha and Clint were on one couch in the living room, Loki sat with his legs criss cross, back to the window overlooking NYC, and Wanda and Vision sat on the opposite couch from Natasha and Clint. The only two missing were Thor and Bruce. Much to your luck as you looked around at everyone, you realized they all overheard Tony because they all had mischievous smirks crossing their faces.

“STOP! I’ll answer questions BUT nothing too personal please...” You said putting on your best puppy eyes and giving an exasperated sigh. Surprisingly enough you looked at your crush, Loki, and saw he was the only one without a mischievous smirk, for once. He did however put down the book he had been reading and instead had a focused look on his face as he played with the green magic floating between his hands. No one else paid him any mind though.

“Who’s your favorite Avenger?” Natasha shot out leaning back into the couch with a smirk.

“Tony.”

“YES!” Tony shouted pumping a fist into the air.

“Why?” Natasha asked.

“Because he’s like a dad to me, not to mention he makes us really cool gear meaning I don’t have to slave away in the lab by myself anymore.” You rolled your eyes as you finished the sentence. Tony beside you pulled you into a gut crushing hug and said, “Awe, FRIDAY can you put up adoption papers on my computer in the lab and set a reminder to fill them out later today?” 

“Tony, stop, God, you’re embarrassing.” You pushed from his hug, blushing. 

“For some reason I’m not really surprised.” Nat said shrugging. 

You giggled and made your way to the middle of the room, taking a seat in an available love seat, Tony and Steve coming to stand behind it. 

Next Wanda sat up with an excited look on her face and asked, “Who do you think is the strongest Avenger?” 

Thor walked in and gave a hearty chuckle, “Me, of course!”

“No, actually, I think it’s a tie between you, Wanda, and Loki.”

“What, no no, surely you’re mistaken, dear?” Thor said now chuckling nervously.

Steve smiled over to him and shrugged, “No, Thor, she accidentally touched a truth serum, this is as honest as she’ll ever be buddy.”

“Why am I one of the strongest Avengers?” Loki asked, his hands still playing with the magic but his complete attention on you.

“Your magic may not be on Wanda’s par, at least what I know about it, but you’ve endured quite the amount of emotion grief and came out on top so I guess I see you as the strongest, emotionally...” You finished with a wince since it kind of aired out Loki’s dirty laundry and was a bit mushy if you were being honest. Loki hummed but went back to focusing on his magic. 

Thor frowned then a happy look over took his face, “Are you in love with anyone in the room?”

“Whoa!”

“Thor!”

“Wait, Thor!”

You laughed out loud and let the answer go freely, unconsciously glancing back to Loki who wasn’t looking at you but had a raised brow and seemed to only be half focusing on the green magic cloud in his hands, “Yes.”

“Thor buddy that’s a bit personal.” Tony said, an eyebrow raised in a disappointed dad sort of way. 

“My apologies!” Thor said making his way to the kitchen, “I hear a Poptart calling my name, perhaps a smores today.”

“Is it fair to say we may ask questions about this love interest considering it’s one of us?” Vision asked with a vexed look on his face. 

Loki cleared his throat and everyone gave him attention, “Perhaps we should keep that as a restricted topic considering she did say nothing too personal?”

You weighed the pros and cons in your head, while you were nervous for Loki to find out it was him maybe this was the way to get it out in the open. Lord knows you would take advantage of it considering every time you spoke with Loki nowadays you turned into a blabbering mess and tended to leave every conversation read in the cheeks from fluster and embarrassment. 

“I don’t mind you asking questions but don’t out right ask me his name.” You said deciding to get this over with. 

“Well we can cut out Natasha and Wanda then.” Tony said catching onto you saying him. “Reindeer games what on Earth are you doing anyways?”

Loki glanced at Tony and smirked, “Nervous?”

Tony frowned and backed up a bit, “You know, I wasn’t but I am now...”

Loki chuckled and went back to focusing on his magic flowing freely between his fingers and pulsing between his hands now, “Nothing that will harm anyone, Stark, don’t get your britches in a bunch.” 

You smiled at Loki then looked around at everyone, “Ok, hit me!”

“I know you said don’t ask a name but you did just say Tony was a father figure I was hoping you didn’t...” Clint started and ended softly with fear in his eyes.

Seeing as it wasn’t a full question you didn’t feel word vomit coming up but decided to play around with Clint since he never ceased to prank you all the time.

“I might have a daddy kink...” You said looking up at Tony, trying your best to give him a lustful look but couldn’t hold in your laughter when Clint started gagging, “No, Clint, it’s not Tony.”

You laughed a bit when you heard Tony let out a heavy sigh of relief. You then brought a hand up and covered your giggle when Clint said a tiny, “Oh thank god.”

“I swear, it better not be Vision, he’s mine!” Wanda said suddenly with wide eyes.

“Not vision.” You responded. 

You could feel Tony’s fingers behind you rhythmically tapping on the leather love seat, showing his growing impatience. 

“It’s not Steve, Tony.” You said trying to placate the man since he had told you in confidence that he was trying to find a good way to ask the man out. 

“You realize that only leaves Clint...and me, right?” Loki said with an unsure smirk. You gave the man a smile and stood up. Loki had finally finished playing with his magic, halfway through you realized what he had been doing seeing as you felt the truth serum slowly letting up in you. He had finally worked out the chemicals from your system and you were back to normal. 

“Unfortunately I’m not outright telling you all who it is, if you haven’t been paying attention to me recently that’s on you.” You said before heading towards the kitchen, Loki still smirking as he watched you walk away.

“I feel a smores Poptart calling my name too.” 

After you had disappeared Clint cleared his throat and looked at Loki, “It’s totally me, sorry i mean have you seen these guns, Loki? You have nothing on me.”

Loki chuckled and picked his book back up, “I think I have more to offer than you think Clint, but keep telling yourself it’s you if it helps that mortal brain of yours sleep at night.” 

[airi-p4]

From above the stars - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | …

I’m finally posting this! It’s my ‘Adrien is dead’ fic, and I call this ‘tragedy fic’ for a reason. TW: Major character death, blood Summary:

Marinette was at the hospital, injured, when she was delivered the news:

'Adrien is dead'

It couldn't be true, right? He was her boyfriend and soulmate, he couldn't be dead! She had to see it to believe it.

At the cemetery, her fears were confirmed... And all her hope lost... But whose is that music that matches so perfectly with her feelings? Who is that young blue-haired man playing the guitar at the cemetery and giving her hope?

AO3

________________________________________________

CHAPTER 1

Pi. Pi. Pi.

It’s 3:11 AM when the girl resting on a bed opens her eyes at the sound of a continuous alarm. Her first sight is a white ceiling covered in dark, such as the room she’s in, filled with heavy and depressing air.

The young woman’s eyes move to look at her surroundings, barely able to tell them apart. The light coming from the same source as the sound, that has just accelerated, allows her to get a grasp of the room she is in. The high-pitched sounds start beeping even faster.

A hospital room.

‘Why am I here?’ she jolts in panic, listening to how her heart-rate accelerates. She notices her arm is connected to serum and oxygen is directly connected to her respiratory vials.

'Who am I?'

The paper band on her wrist gives her the answer.

Name: Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Age: 21.

‘What happened to me?’

She tries to remember, focusing on her last memory, what happened to her to become immobilized, pain coming from every single part of her body - with some special attention to her left arm and leg, ribs, head, and neck. She was still unaware of the damage in her heart.

Eventually, some flashes start appearing in her mind:

She remembers a night party, fancy dresses, dancing, eating, drinking...

The dizziness caused by the alcohol... Kisses with someone with blond hair. Who…?

"Marinette!" Someone had called her.

"Adrien!" She had called him back. 'Adrien’. Her boyfriend- she realizes.

Her memories turn blurrier from that point.

She remembers riding a car. Someone beside her driving. Sensations of speed. A dark road. And fear.

At some point, she had screamed: ‘Stop!’

Her eyes still close automatically at the memory of the sudden bright light that blinded her, and her ears can still hear the sound of the car tyres squealing on the asphalt. *screech*

And a scream. Was it hers? She isn’t sure.

Then a CRASH. A big impact that resonated through all her body.

She remembers loud glass breaking sounds, too. But nothing is as impregnated in her memories and soul as the green eyes full of apology beside her: the last thing she remembers.

‘What happened? Where's Adrien?’

"Adrien, Adrien, Adrien!!" She screams in despair. The nurse notices and quickly calls the doctor. She obeys him and gives her an intravenous dose of something to calm her down. Marinette can hear a voice before passing out. ‘Poor lady’.

As the daylight filters through the curtains, a flash of memories comes back with the brightness of sunlight: Those green eyes belonged to Adrien: he was the driver that night.

"Adrien! I need to see Adrien!" She refuses to believe something bad could have happened to him. She needs to see him. She needs to confirm he is fine. She needs him by her side- forever together, as they promised years ago.

______________

"Adrien is dead." Someone said.

She must have heard it wrong because he couldn't be dead. He was her soulmate and they were meant to be forever together. Become a family, with 3 children and a hamster, a lovely house… a fairy tale happily ever after.

The same words came out of a policeman's voice instants later: "Adrien Agreste couldn't be saved, it was too late when the medics arrived. I'm sorry for your loss"

The interrogation that followed had no answer. Marinette was too shocked to speak, even to think or blink - white as a sheet of paper. Dead in life.

He’s dead. Adrien is dead.

_________________________

Three days later, Marinette’s memories finally seemed to have cleared up.

Marinette’s POV

We were leaving the party. Adrien was going to take me home in his fancy, expensive sports car. We had drunk some alcohol so I asked him to call his bodyguard to take us instead. But he refused: “I can control this, I haven’t drunk much. Trust me” he had said. And I trusted him.

He drove perfectly fine, his control on the wheels was perfect, as always. So I relaxed. I think the effect of the alcohol might have been delayed, because later, he became euphoric, excited, desiring to have fun. He had put on some loud strident music on the radio.

“This is the perfect song for this road full of curves. I’ll show you how I drift!” he grinned, turning his car mode into a manual one, stepping harder at the gas pedal.

“Adrien! It’s dangerous! Stop!” I said, scared of the increasing speed.

“Hey, it’s ok! I’m not called Chat Noir for no reason! I’m the king of the night!” His wink made me feel hot inside. He looked so handsome with all that self-confidence… And wow, his driftings were cool. I can’t deny how adrenaline flowed through my veins, encouraged by the alcohol I had drank some minutes ago. “Woohoo!!” Adrien shouted, as his drifting continued.

I knew it was dangerous, but it was fun. And I love seeing his grinning face as he drives.

How could I even think that? What’s wrong with me? I should have been more persistent. It must have been the alcohol…

And later, when we reached the final curve, Adrien was prepared to perform a final special drift. “Last one, bugaboo. Hold still” he grinned, looking at my face. He looked extremely cool and handsome. He stepped on the gas and the car followed his instructions. His beautiful green eyes were full of passion.

And then, CRASH.

Another car appeared out of nowhere, from the opposite direction and speeding towards us. The sudden light of the automobile’s brights blinded Adrien’s green cat-like eyes to the point he lost control of his vehicle. It was only at the last second he managed to make the car turn to the right in the way he thought I could take the least possible damage. And he had been right. My life has been spared thanks to that move. But not his- who took the entire impact of the crash. I could see the front and left side window glasses breaking, their shattered pieces flying all over the car insides after the sudden bump, cutting some of my skin and leaving a quite deep cut on my neck. But the vision only lasted for one second before everything turned pitch black, after closing my eyes bracing for fatal impact. I was ready to die with my soulmate- together in life and death.

But I survived.

The permanent scar left on my neck and my injuries are proof enough the accident was real, despite the wish that it was just a nightmare.

I regret deeply not having stopped my boyfriend. Adrien protected my life, yes, but at what cost? My mind has suffered the most. I still have some lacunes in my memory and I know I’ll probably never be able to heal. Whenever I gaze at the stars, I keep wondering if Adrien is up there now. And whenever he is in my thoughts, I can’t stop my tears from falling, blurring my eyes.

“Adrien… Why did you leave me alone? I need you…”

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 8*

Okay ladies and gents, this is where I'd say you really need to have read Black Magic to understand this chapter. You can read it here.

Or, y'know I guess just accept that magic is real in this universe. Whatever. STILL READ IT. YOU WON'T REGRET IT I PROMISE.

If you read this last night, I did rewrite it and reuploaded it. Don't freak out, it's better now I swear.

I did make this signifantly longer though, but I won't lie to you kids-- it's not good. Angst wise, not plot wise. 😉

ENJOYYYYYYY!!!!

Part 7

Part 9

Tag List

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@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

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

The next day Rafael decided he needed help, and if he couldn’t go to the squad, he only had one choice.

"....WHAT?!" Chloe screeched after Rafael told her the whole story after meeting up for coffee.

"I know, it's insane I just--" Rafael shook his head.

"I have so many questions. So many--" she started.

"Look I just wanted advice, and maybe …" he trailed off looking in the distance.

"Maybe what….?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"Supernatural help?" He sipped his coffee.

"Oh good God like what? Do you think that's what he used on YN?" Chloe sipped her tea.

"No doesn't need to, he can imitate me perfectly. I'm pretty sure it was just your standard date rape drug." The words made Rafael's fist clench and his lip curl at the thought of Nevada using date rape drugs on you.

"We have to get her out of there, Chloe. We have to," His voice trembled in fear for you.

"Well no shit Sherlock" Chloe pointed out. "You sure it's not the mind control stuff Liv used on you?"

"Liv didn't use mind control potions. She just used an ultra unhealthy amount of love potion. Although I wouldn't put it past her to get some more potions,” Rafael rolled his eyes.

Nearby Alex was listening in on the conversation, since Rafael knew what Javi looked like now. He listened to the rest of your conversation, then bolted before the two of you noticed him.

-----

“Magic potion?" Nevada laughed. are you fucking kidding me?! Dime qué tienen been smoking?!”

"I don't know Vada, he seemed pretty sure about it. And I mean look at the two of you, you're identical and there's no explanation for that. So I don't know, anything might be possible." Alex shrugged. "He said it's how they got together. Some chick named Olivia tried to tear them apart but their "true love" prevailed"."

"Oh , these two are even more fucking pathetic than I thought.” Nevada scoffed. “What do they live in, a fucking Disney movie?" He shook his head, but then had an idea.

"…. Seems like we might have to check with this Olivia," He smiled evilly.

--------

"Rafael" showed up to the squad room to talk to Olivia the very next day.

“Hey Liv” He nodded at her with a sly smile.

"Rafa!" Liv exclaimed. She was excited but nervous to see him. Mostly because she hadn't seen him since the whole 'wedding; debacle.

"Liv, I need you to tell me where you got your mind serum,” “Rafael” told her straight out. Olivia was shocked he was so flippant about it, and being so loud.

".... It wasn't mind serum Rafa it was love serum and-- wait why do you need it?" She looked around nervously, then quickly realized something must have gone wrong with the two of you.

"I think I'll be asking the questions here Liv, you're the one that fucked with me first." “Rafael” crossed his arms.

"You know if you need to control YN with potions, it may not be worth it Rafa.” Olivia told him softly, touching his hand. “I love you just the way you are...." She put a hand to his chest and gave him a sweet smile.

"Why do you think I'm asking? She's getting too wishy washy for me, I just want her to forget about us." Rafael put a hand to her face. "Just tell me where you got it, and we can be together."

"Ok!!" Not questioning it, Olivia started to text the address to Rafael's phone.

"No, I need you to write it down for me." “Rafael” grabbed a notepad and pen from off her desk.

"Why…?" Olivia raised an eyebrow at him.

"....So if my boss decides to do a random sweep of my phone he doesn't think I'm insane, Liv." He replied in a “duh” tone.

"...He can do that?" Oliva’s mouth dropped open.

"...The government can do a lot of things, Liv. Don’t trust them,” “Rafael” sneered. Sure Olivia should have taken that as a red flag, but she was so happy she might get her happy ending with Rafael she didn’t care.

"Right…." She wrote the address down and slipped it to "Rafael".

"Thanks babe," he grabbed Olivia in a giant kiss. Then he strutted out of the office leaving her with a huge smile.

----------

Not even a few hours later, Nevada took the address to an old antique shop. He walked in to see an old woman cleaning an ancient looking broach.

“An old antique shop, bruja? Were you going for totally predictable, or are you just lazy with fronts?”

The woman stopped cleaning and glared at him. “And who the hell are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m a friend of Olivia’s.” He smirked. “And as such, I’m going to need a favor…”

“Oh great are you a cop too?” She sighed.

“....You could say that.” He chuckled.

“So what do you need?” She looked at him skeptically.

“I need a...mind control potion,” Nevada felt like an idiot saying it out loud, but the old woman’s face verifying that such a thing existed made him feel better.

“You people and your God complexes…” She rolled her eyes before disappearing into the back. After a few minutes she came back with an orange liquid in a vial.

“Think of the name of the person you want this to control, and then once they drink this, whatever you think, they’ll do.”

“....Really?” Nevada gave her a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh you doubt my majeria, pendejo?” She snarled. “Then why are you here?”

“Lo siento, señora,” He quickly apologized. “Gracias,” He nodded to the potion and sauntered out of the shop.

--------

The next day Nevada texted Rafael to meet him in a warehouse on his side or town. Rafael immediately went to Chloe’s apartment for advice on what to do, since he didn’t have anyone else.

"This could be a trap." Chloe warned him.

"Of course it could be a trap but what choice do I have?!" Rafael argued.

"Ok but I'm coming," She insisted.

"Oh no you're not" Rafael shook his head.

"I'll stay out of sight, okay dad?” Chloe rolled her eyes.

"No, I don’t like it.” He protested while ignoring the 'dad' comment. “If something goes sideways in there I can’t protect the both of you,”

"I don't care if you like it, she's my best friend so you can suck it up," She crossed her arms. “And I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,”

“....What’s the chances of me talking you out of this?” He sighed.

“....Ehhhh slim to none,” She smiled.

“Fine, but you’re staying outside,” He warned her as they headed to the address.

------

Rafael and Chloe went to the address, it was a giant warehouse. Rafael went inside, ready for anything. The place was pitch black so he couldn't really see anything.

"Nevada?" He called into the darkness. Suddenly one light in the middle of the warehouse lit up. He walked closer to find you lying there unconscious.

"YN!!!" He screamed, running over and waking you up.

“...What? What happened?” You stirred awake, totally disoriented. Nevada must have knocked you out again.

"Baby! it's me," He picked you up in his arms, holding you so tightly you thought you'd stop breathing. "He let you go, I can't believe it," He was crying now, he was so happy.

"...What? That makes ZERO sense," you pushed him away, looking at him angrily. "....Wait no no, it does make perfect sense-- you're Nevada!"

"What?" Rafael looked at you in shock. "... I'm not Nevada, I'm Rafael, YN! It's me!"

"Okay look I get it,” You crossed your arms. “You can’t just keep me drugged up all the time, and you need new and innovative ways to "be" Rafael-- but this is just cruel,”

“Baby it's me I-- it's me! it's Rafael,” He put his hands on either side of your face, staring intently into them. You wanted to believe him so badly, but all you could think about was the first time this happened. How perfectly Nevada had played Rafael, even down to the look in his eyes. That’s all you saw now, an act. A façade.

“....You've done a hell of a job researching him and perfecting his moves Nevada, but I'm not going to fall for it and I'm not going to keep hurting Rafa,” You pushed him away further, crossing your arms tighter so that he couldn’t get a free show of your exposed breasts in the barely there clothes he dressed you in.

Rafael stared at you in shock and disbelief, how much did he fuck with your mind? How could this be happening?

“....It's me. How else am I--- what can I do to prove to you that it's me? Y/N how can you not see it in my eyes? Look at me!” He grabbed your hands and searched your eyes for some kind of recognition, some kind of feeling.

“Yeah okay it's ‘you’. You are going to save me, and then we're going to go to some ‘safe location’ right? And then we’ll celebrate being ‘back together’ by having some amazing sex. And it’ll be wonderful and amazing, and I’ll cry and tell you how much I love you and missed you, and then you're going to be like ‘hahaha I got you again!’ I’m Not falling for it” Tears came to your eyes as you thought about all the times he had tricked you, and how much it had hurt Rafael every time. You couldn’t get the heartbreak in his eyes out of your brain.

“....God, this is exactly what he wanted…” Rafael muttered. “Carino, it's me I swear to God you have to believe me-- Look I brought Chloe!” He gestured to Chloe who came running over to the two of you.

“...Oh my God, Chloe?” Your eyes widened in seeing your best friend for the first time in days. Usually you two were attached at the hip. He brought Chloe-- Nevada didn’t know about Chloe, did he?

“....Remember the penguins? I proposed to you with the penguins, and-- and I told you that it was my favorite place in New York, and I did that nutty musical number? I worked on that for WEEKS!!! Would Nevada know that?” You heard Rafael talking while you looked from Chloe to him. You took his head in your hands, searching his eyes. They were full of tears, searching your own eyes for the same thing. Love.

“....Rafa?” You whispered, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He took your hand and kissed the side of it.

“It’s me,” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “It’s me, mi amor,”

You grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss. You could feel the difference now, between his mouth and Nevada’s. Rafael kissed you in such a loving, beautiful way. Nevada groped your mouth like a hungry shark. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him several times on the neck, not getting enough of him. He ran his fingers through your hair as his lips did the same to your face and neck.

Suddenly, a lone clap came from behind you.

“Awwww. No es tan dulce?” Nevada came stepping out of the shadows. “The two lovers, finally reunited. Es tan hermoso,” He wiped away a non-existent tear.

“....What the hell …?” Rafael asked while he helped you both stand up, Rafael stood in front of you protectively.

“Well I had to get some ‘inside’ information didn’t I, cabron? I can’t have you feeding her information only ‘you’ would know to try and break a spell, ¿Correcto??” Nevada crossed his arms as several men came out of the shadows all around you.

“....Spell?” You blinked, trying to play dumb. How did he know about magic?

“Oh shit…” You heard Chloe whisper as she and Rafael exchanged a guilty look. They really should have thought about having that conversation in private.

“I visited your friend, Olivia. She told me where I could find some very interesting...concoctions,” Nevada smirked as he held up an orange vial.

“What? No...no no no!!!!” Rafael’s head darted back and forth as Nevada’s goons inched towards you. Two of them pulled out pistols and aimed them right at him while two more walked up and grabbed you, dragging you away from Rafael.

“No...No! RAFAEL!!!” You screamed, trying to get away from them. He tried to run to you, but two more grabbed him by the arms and put him on his knees.

“...I don't know what the hell it is but don't you dare give her anything else!!!” Rafael yelled as the two men that had you dragged you over to Nevada.

“Oh okay, well just because you said that SO nicely, abogado,” Nevada nodded sarcastically as he grabbed your face.

“Now, open up baby. I know you can swallow,” He smirked while looking between the two of you. You shook your head violently, but Nevada gripped your nose between his fingers preventing you from breathing. You held out as long as you could, but you finally had to gasp for air. As soon as you did so, Nevada poured the orange liquid down your throat. After a few moments, your irises flashed a deep orange.

“....Vada,” You looked at Nevada with dreamy eyes as Rafael stared in horror.

“Finalmente I can stop wearing those God awful trajes,” Nevada grinned, stroking your cheek softly before looking at Rafael.

“And y’know, your girlfriend Olivia really should have just opted for this mind control potion, it works so much more efficiently. Pero, if I had just made your little puta in love with me, I couldn’t get her to do this,” He turned to you. “Baby, go take care of that hijo de puta, para mi,”

“Anything for you, papi,” You nodded with a smile, then turned to Rafael with a deep raging fire in your eyes.

“Let’s dance abogado,” You growled.

“No! No, Y/N you can't do this! I'm not going to hurt you,” He pleaded with you.

“Well that sucks for you,” You lunged for him, but he grabbed you by your arms. “

“Hey no no no, look at me!” He forced you to look at him. “Remember the penguins? I took you to see the penguins and I--"

Nevada closed his eyes and changed your memory with his.

”Nevada took me to penguins and that's how we got engaged, you lying piece of shit!!!” You yelled at him.

“….Fuck that’s what he meant. Now he’s used that against me,” Rafael grunted in frustration as you wriggled in his arms. “Y/N you have to believe me you love me, not Nevada. You love me!!”

“No, I DON’T!!!!” You broke free and started to punch him, but he threw you to the ground.

“...You're going to regret that,” You sneered, getting back up.

“I already do!” Rafael began to cry. He didn't want to hurt you, but he had no other choice.

“Alright, break it up,” Chloe stepped in trying to reason with you.

“And who are you? His bitch?” You snarked at her.

“Oh God now what? I'm your best friend, Chloe! We’ve been friends since you moved to the city! forever I helped you get Rafael, remember? All the hijinks we had to go through? Y/N you're my best friend come on, remember!”

“....I don't know what the hell you're talking about bitch, but if you’re against Nevada, you’re against me!” You lunged for Chloe. Unfortunately for you, Chloe had no qualms about kicking your ass. She punched you, making you go down.

“Chloe what the fuck are you doing?!” Rafael yelled angrily at her.

“Wha-- she was trying to kick my ass!” Chloe defended herself.

Well as much as I enjoy this, I'm going to need a status on that transfer, Barba,” Nevada stepped in and helped you to your feet. You started to lunge for Chloe again but Nevada held you back.

“Down girl, you’ll get her next time,” He pulled on the collar of your dress like heeling a dog. You straightened up and walked into his arms. He draped one of them around you as he smiled triumphantly at Chloe and Rafael.

“Well if you would let me work instead of fucking with my emotions and fucking with my fiancé's head I might have some time to do it, tarado!” Rafael barked while glaring at the two of you. “Why are you even doing this, don't you want me to fight for her?”

“Yeah I thought about that,” He nodded, moving his arms around your waist and pulling you back into his chest as you smirked at Rafael.

“And having her on my side actually works out better for me, because you can't hurt me if I have her as my guard dog,” He chuckled, pulling you to face him as he gave you a hungry kiss.

“I swear to God, Nevada… I'll….” Rafael started to charge Nevada, seeing you all over him in person was ten times worse than having to witness it over a face call.

“You'll what?” Nevada challenged him with a laugh. "You gonna call your cop friends on your 'true love?!'” He air quoted true love with a mocking sneer.

“That's right she is my true love; and our love has beat stronger things than your manipulation or mind potions,” He spat as Nevada’s goons began to surround him again in case he tried anything.

"Oh I very much doubt that." He smiled wickedly as he looked into your eyes. "Go on baby, tell him why you chose me" He nodded at Rafael. You nodded back and stepped towards Rafael with hatred in your orange eyes. Nevada thought of the perfect speech to really destroy him.

"Nevada is a real man Barba, he's pleasured me in ways you can't even think of. Our love was fake, you just kept me under your own spell. Nothing we had was actually real, and you're just gonna have to get over this obsession you have with me." You crossed your arms and spoke with absolute disdain.

"No….." Rafael's eyes filled with tears more and more after every word you spoke. "No!" He grabbed you and pulled you towards him. Nevada’s goons started to go after him but Vada put a hand up.

"Ah ah ah, señores. This will be more fun," He grinned.

"Baby come on, look he's...he’s just going to let you go!” Rafael tried to get you to go with him.

"Please, carino…." He put both hands on your face but all he could see was orange in your irises. Now he knew how you must have felt at the church when he didn't remember you. But then he remembered how the real him was deep down inside, screaming to get out. You had to be there too.

“....Rafa…?” Your head began to pound, the orange in your eyes began to flicker as the real you tried to break through.

“Yes, yes Y/N Baby it’s me!” A small hopeful smile crawled across his lips. He started speaking as fast as he could to draw you out more.

"....Carino, remember you told me about your parents, and I told you about my dad, and-- We beat Liv, we've prevailed over anything that tries to tear us apart. And I know you are in there, because I know I was in my body too. Please baby please, oh god please, YN you have to remember!” He pressed his forehead to yours as he begged you with whimpers and tears.

“Baby…”? You bit your lip as you tried like hell to fight the potion. Rafael rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

“....If you go back to him now--I'll lose you forever. He’ll just keep using you against me, and I won’t hurt you!” He hugged you tightly, your arms slowly raised to hug him back. Nevada saw what was unfolding and quickly thought to himself “NO. YOU’RE MINE. HURT HIM.”

Suddenly the orange flared in your eyes once again, and you pushed him away from you.

“Well that's really unfortunate for you, douchebag. Because I can,” You took one swift kick to his stomach and he fell over to the ground

“Ohhhhh shit!!!!!” Nevada clapped his hands together happily.

"That was even more delicious than I could have imagined, this magic thing is the best. Thanks for the tip, bruja,” Nevada nodded at Chloe who just glared at him as she helped Rafael up on his feet.

"This isn't over," he growled.

"You're right, you still need to get me those transfers" Nevada reminded him. “....And I think that red head will help you out, I may have 'made up' with her for you," He added with a wink.

“Oh for fucks sake…” Rafael groaned. Now he had lost you and he'd have to break Liv’s heart all over again.

“Now I'd leave before I set my queen loose on you," Nevada cackled.

“Let's go Rafa, we'll figure something out,” Chloe pulled him away from you and out of the warehouse.

Rafael knew you were in there, he just knew it. He was going to get you back somehow.

[inmyownlaine]

John Murphy Tooth Rotting Fluff *Requested*

GIF// MOOD MUSIC 1// MOOD MUSIC 2

Warnings: A little cussing, slow burn fluff (so take that as you will)

Word Count: 1911

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“You’re not allowed to be here,” you told Murphy in a sing-song voice.

“Okay, come on. You’re not even facing me. How could you possibly know I walked in?”

You shrugged your shoulders, placing a vial of medicine on the shelf. You picked up the clipboard and made a tally mark by the name of the serum. Inventory was the least exciting part of your job. Therefore, having frequent breaks to talk to Murphy was a must. He was the only thing keeping you sane.

“Probably because you breathe like a wild boar.”

“I’m not that loud,” he protested. You chuckled as he intentionally made his voice much quieter than it usually was. “What are you doing here, anyway? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“It’s like- eight o’clock, Murphy. I’m not seventy years old,” you replied sarcastically. “And besides, Abby asked me to do this.”

“You want to know what I think about that?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you placed another tally mark by the same serum. You turned around to meet Murphy; one hand placed on your hip, the other still holding the clipboard.

“Please, oh wise one. Grace me with your wisdom.”

Murphy smirked at this, raising one eyebrow before speaking. He stepped closer to you, his lips inches from your ear. Murphy wasn’t usually one to be quiet, so you figured this had to be good.

“Abby can go fuck herself.”

“John!” you exclaimed, pushing his chest in order to get him away. He had said a lot of controversial things, but this by far was one of the worst. Abby dedicated her life to saving people and taking care of them. How could he be so hostile to someone who genuinely wanted to make a difference on the Ground?

“What? If she wants this done so badly she can do it herself. I don’t see her in here working overtime.”

“That’s because she’s been answering emergency calls! You know? The actual life-saving part. She doesn’t have time to mess around with the inventory.”

“Every job is important, Y/N. Doesn’t matter how small you think it is,” he pointed out. You nodded your head slowly, having to agree with him. Without the inventory count, Abby wouldn’t know how many people she could save, what she needed to use sparingly, and what she needed to request. Every second that goes by in a threatening situation matters. Not having the medication when needed could be the difference between another day or the end of one.

Murphy strutted towards Abby’s desk, being particularly light on the balls of his feet. He swung his arms around haphazardly, exuding confidence about an action so menial. You let him behave this way. You knew the man inside of that body was not nearly as self assured as he led others to believe.

He grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen and made his way back to you. You gave him a questioning look, squinting your eyes as you noticed he had picked up an inventory sheet. “If I’m going to be here I might as well be useful.”

You mentally agreed with him and went back to work. With the two of you combined, you finished the job in double the time. You were extremely grateful for this and for Murphy’s selflessness. It was one of his best traits that was often overlooked. He took care of the people he loved, almost to a fault. You knew you could depend on him for anything.

When you counted the last bit of inventory for Abby, you took the sheets and placed them back on her desk. Murphy waited for you by the door, curling his lips inward and making popping noises. 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” you teased, heading his way.

“Yeah. Put the papers down and let’s go.”

“Alright, alright! No more work for tonight, I promise. No papers, no talk, no nothing. Just you and me.”

“Just what I wanted to hear,” he said as the two of you headed towards the bonfire.

“By the way,” you started, “I appreciate you walking me back to my room, but maybe we should...Not do that.”

“Why?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, it’s just- when you come over- my mom asks about you. Every time.” You couldn’t bear to get the words out. Having to have this conversation with your mother was embarrassing enough. Now you had to relay it back to your ex-boyfriend.

“Of course she did. I’m a ray of sunshine.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” you corrected, not letting his sarcastic comment go by unnoticed. Murphy snickered at this and ran his fingers through his hair, fluffing it up and letting it fall into an unmanageable mop. He was still a straight ten with every piece of hair sticking out a different way.

“What did you tell her?”

“I don’t know,” you responded shyly. “I guess I just said that we’re trying to work things out. Make sure that we’re going the right way. Trying not to fall back into old habits.”

“And what did she say?” he said, pressing for more information.

“A lot of things. Mainly that she misses you. And she misses who I was with you. Something about me being sad and stuff. I don’t know,” you repeated, your vocabulary shrinking by the second. This is why you hated being nervous.

“Why did we break up?” Murphy eventually asked after a beat of silence. The question almost stopped you dead in your tracks. Ever since you and Murphy decided to patch things up, you hadn’t come to terms with the falling out. You focused more on the future and growing as a couple. You both tried to act like it didn’t happen, that it didn’t affect you. Now was as good of a time as any to address the problem.

You opened your mouth to talk, but Murphy unknowingly interrupted you. “I mean, I know you said that you just needed space and we were going too fast but- what exactly did that mean? I- I kind of made some guesses and have tried to fix us from there but- but I would still like to know.”

Murphy began to trail off, kicking at the dirt as you kept walking. This part of Murphy was completely new to you. He was fumbling over his words, behaving as if he was bashful about the subject as well. You found it oddly comforting and incredibly adorable.

“It just wasn’t the right time for our relationship,” you told him truthfully. “We started becoming different people and needed time to individually grow. We were going into things without thinking about it and then we were fighting all the time and putting bandages over gaping wounds. We needed time to mature.”

Murphy nodded as if he understood. “Well the fighting bit, that was all you.”

Your mouth fell open as you scoffed, pushing him yet again. That was something you had always done to Murphy, regardless of your relationship status. He just seemed to deserve it. “Yeah, right! You can never let anything go, Mr. I’m-done-with-this-conversation-but-I’m-going-to-mumble-about-it-for-twenty-

more-minutes.”

“Details,” he commented, waving his hand in the air as if to swat the subject away. “I’m better at that, though. Right?”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you took his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers together. He didn’t hesitate. In fact, he acted like you two had never stopped holding hands in the first place. 

The rest of the walk was silent as you both took time to indulge in each other’s presence. You had missed Murphy. It was only when you were sent to the Ground that you started to reconnect. Prior to that, you avoided each other at all costs. Seeing him was painful and humiliating. Talking to him was even worse.

Murphy stopped a few feet away from your door. He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it and forcing a tiny smile. He nodded towards you and went to turn around. You stuck out your arm to stop him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my room,” he responded as if it were obvious.

“Without saying goodnight?”

“I just thought- with your mom and everything-” he tried to explain.

“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean leave without saying anything.”

Murphy chuckled and raised his eyebrows. “Can I say a little more than goodnight?” You squinted your eyes out of curiosity but said nothing. Murphy took that as a cue to continue.

“I love you,” he said aloud, “and I know there was a time when I said that and it didn’t mean a whole lot. Maybe it still doesn’t. I don’t know.”

He paused for a moment, eyes searching for the words he couldn’t say. Even as his breathing became labored and his eyes turned blood red, he managed to choke out, “I don’t think anyone has ever loved me. I don’t even love myself. But when I look at you, I- I see everything I want to be. You touch me- and I forget everything that I was. And when you say my name- you say it with purpose. Like- I can one day clear it. Like my name- is finally important to someone. Like it doesn’t have to hurt to be Murphy. If that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“John,” you whispered, placing your hand over his heart. It was beating rapidly against your palm, much like the constant lurching in your stomach. But as soon as it happened, he took your hands gently in his own. On the tips of your fingers he placed a soft kiss. Your knees buckled and you found yourself leaning on Murphy for strength.

“You don’t have to say anything. Don’t feel like you have to.”

“I love you, too,” you told him quickly.

Murphy let out a breath of relief before leaning down to kiss you. It was something that you had missed but didn’t even notice until now. The way his lips melded perfectly into yours. How delicately he pressed them together, contrasting the abrasive man he wanted everyone to think he was. And the warmth you felt that never ceased to ignite your entire body. You had deprived yourself of this for years. 

What were you thinking?

Murphy pulled away from you with a large smile on his face. You couldn’t hide your embarrassment as you put your head down, grinning yourself. Murphy cleared his throat in an attempt to act normal. 

“Well- uh- I guess I’ll see you-”

“Tomorrow morning!” a voice interrupted. Your face turned pale as you saw a silhouette standing in front of the main door. You covered your face as Murphy waved to your mother, seeming to be very pleased with himself.

“I’ll be here.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied with a smirk. 

“Mom!” you exclaimed. 

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you alone. Ten minutes, then back inside.”

“Yeah, got it. Thanks,” you replied sheepishly.

“Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Ms. Y/L/N.”

With that, your mother went back inside, closing the door behind her. You could have curled up and died on the spot. That soon faded as you heard a soft squeal escape Murphy’s lips. He was never good at holding back his laughter. 

“Just like old times, huh?” he asked, amused.

“Just like them,” you said with a smile, “except this time, a lot better.”

**Wow, it has been a while! This was per request, I mixed it with an idea I was already toying around with: your mom keeps asking about Murphy. I thought it would be fun to mash these two together! I hope that everyone is staying safe during these unfortunate times. I’m always here if anyone needs anything!

The mood music is really there just to put you in my mindset and what I was listening to when I wrote this. Of course, completely optional. Just think it’s a fun little tidbit to add!

All my love

Lainey

[lambourngb]

Not sure if you are taking prompt buts if you are Post S2 prompt: I just want to see Alex quietly singing/humming The Song to Michael. Maybe Michael's hurt and in pain or they've both had a really emotional event happen and are totally drained from crying. I want that song to be a source of comfort. My partner isn't an amazing singer but I still find it really comforting when he sings to me and I like to think Michael and Alex eventually get to that point too.

This was a very romantic prompt nonnie! I’m afraid I was in a hurt/comfort state when I started this. Warnings: Confinement, experimentation, angst, mention of Forlex, mention of the Miluca breakup, but all is not lost.

“like a halo from a gun”

Time stopped having meaning to Michael sometime after the third week of confinement.

Guards entered his cell at random intervals, always wearing black masks and dull, badge-less armor that kept them anonymous. The first injection of the serum Helena had once used on him let him know he was probably in the hands of the real Deep Sky operation. Fighting with his fists, pulling every dirty trick he learned from his brief stint in juvie at 15, rewarded him with a broken wrist and a battered torso.

He was gifted with a soft white bandage to hold the splits of his bone together, he supposed they were too nervous to allow him with the hard plaster of a cast. The pain left him weak, tired, and finally docile as vial after vial of blood was taken from him.

At least it was just blood, and not anything more taxing, like tissue or an organ. If he survives this cell, he would have to thank Max for blowing up Liz’s lab. There was no way he could be sanguine over seeing Noah’s liver in a jar after this experience.

Worry about that later, he reminded himself. If there was a later.

No one was coming for him because no one knew he was missing. His plan had been simple, shared with Isobel, Max and Sanders. A month long road trip to get some space from Roswell, and Max’s moping over Liz’s departure seemed like a good idea at the time, and if he by chance he ended up in California to plead his brother’s case, well, seeing the Pacific Ocean felt like a thing to do.

The open road with his window down had beckoned. He had let the wounded feelings from Maria blow away with his mixed emotions about Forrest, stitching up the raw places inside in ways he knew alcohol couldn’t and acetone shouldn’t. As he drove, he had found himself humming Alex’s song, reminding himself of the promise of the future.

It was not their time now, but it would be one day had been his mantra.

Three hours later, feeling lighter and more hopeful, he had pulled over to assist a stranded motorist. A mother, holding a baby at her hip, had seemed harmless enough until she hit him with a needle pulled from an innocuous diaper bag.

His powers gone, he had made it back to his truck just in time for three black Jeeps with weapons mounted to appear from the surrounding brush to pin him down. Surrender or death, he picked surrender. He picked hope.

Now, his wrist screaming with a swollen hot feeling, he considered the idea that he might have picked the wrong option. Michael shut his eyes, letting the siren song of fatigue, despair and pain drag him down to sleep. He found a brighter, happier place to be, deep inside his mind. Perhaps it was his body shutting down, or perhaps he had found the place his mother described to Tripp. The ultimate sanctuary from pain and fear.

There was a kinship believing that his mother found the same haven, where maybe her Manes man had waited for her the way Alex waited for him in the dream. The only dark he could find there, were Alex’s warm eyes, and the only touch he could feel was Alex’s broad hands. After three bags of blood drawn, he could sometimes hear Alex’s voice, whispering soft promises to him.

Together we could quiet all the noises

Drown out the voices

Play our own song

He could still hear Alex’s voice, as he slowly surfaced from his mind. It didn’t make any sense to his sluggish thoughts. The song kept up, and the next thing he was aware of was the slow, carding of his hair and the warmth under his face of his pillow. Except he didn’t have a pillow.

Blinking he met the bruised, worried face of Alex. He would never hallucinate Alex with a mark on his face, let alone darkening blemish on his cheekbone and worrying cut that bled sluggishly from his forehead creeping upward to his hairline. “You’re actually here?”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed.

“Why? How-”

“The ‘how’ is Maria had a vision not long after you left, and once she figured out that you were in trouble, she had me try to track your phone.”  Alex frowned faintly, his touch never wavering as he smoothed back the matted and sweat-crusted locks of hair. “We found your truck at used car dealer a few miles from the last cell tower you pinged. It was all hands on deck to find you after that.”

Very little of his words registered on Michael. He was too caught up in the  cringing horror at their close proximity, as his mind moved on from the fantasy of seeing Alex to the reality of his current condition. He wanted to pull away because god only knew how badly he smelled at the moment. Bathing consisted of a blast of a hose, bracingly cold and relying on the force of the water to wash away the dirt and fear-sweats he routinely suffered. All of that said, he never wanted to leave the place on Alex’s lap. Being treated like a person after 3 weeks of nothing but sterile touch undid all his work at detachment.

Unaware of the train of Michael’s thoughts, Alex continued in a soft voice, “I  should have looked sooner, but- anyway, I didn’t even know you guys had broken up. Actually, I didn’t even know you left town until Maria came to my house looking for you.”

The blood loss was making him stupid as he tried to figure out what made Maria think he was at Alex’s. It was still too painful to even think about how he had failed with her, did she really think he would seek out the other person who knew how inadequate he was when it came to a relationship? As free and relaxed as Alex was at the Wild Pony, with Jesse in the ground, why would he want to ruin that?

Michael was well aware of how stuck he was emotionally, in all the ways that seemed to matter to people, and Alex had evolved past him. Tired, he squeezed his dry eyes shut tightly. “Why your house?”

“Her visions of you all involved me. In various positions she said?”

It took a second to comprehend Alex’s admission before Michael briefly wished that his captors would return. Getting drained to light-headed weakness was preferable to this. The mental retreat he had built where he inserted Alex into his delusion of a happily ever after had more windows instead of privacy doors. He had been broadcasting to his ex-girlfriend. Fuck his life. 

“Oh god- I’m so sorry, I just, I was trying to-.”

“Hey, hey,” Alex cut him off, his eyes kind as always even as Michael struggled to keep from crying. It was definitely time to wish for more needles, for more medical experimentation. That felt kinder than this discussion for Michael.

Sensing that hovering stab of humiliation, Alex made his own confession in return in the quiet, “After my leg, when rehab sucked. I pictured things being different too, or I thought about that summer with you. You don’t have to apologize, not to me.”

“Still, if she had put on the damn bracelet-” Mortified and weak, Micheal turned his face toward Alex’s hip, hiding it from view.

“Well the fact she wasn’t wearing the bracelet worked out in your favor. It’s how we realized you were in trouble in the first place, since she came over to my house to yell at you to stop projecting at her. She didn’t think it was deliberate either. She thought we had gotten back together, and because of your past with her, that you had left some link open by accident.”

“Bet Forrest loved that, my ex-girlfriend yelling at you about your- about me.”

Alex’s hand paused, either at the barb or the course correction Michael made in describing himself. For all the use of past tense feelings, the closest he’d heard Alex come to naming him was ‘first love’.

“Sorry,” Michael whispered, as a wave of shame swelled. “Sorry for that, and sorry that you’re here with me now. You shouldn’t have come but I know why you did. Guess that means we’re even now.”

“Of course I came, and it had nothing to do with being even.”

“Right, you don’t want to keep score anymore.”

Alex pinked a little at the reference to his song, before nodding seriously, “Yes, remember how the rest of the song goes?” He let his eyes track to the corner of the cell where the video surveillance was mounted plainly without subterfuge. “Would you meet me in the middle,” he sang sweetly, nodding toward the left wall of the cell, “Could we both stop keeping score? There’s a battle I must fight along, it’s you I’m fighting for. If I call on my battalion, break down the walls stone by stone, tear down the defenses, I could build our heart a home?”

Goddamnit. That crazy, brave, genius bastard really did have a plan. Michael was ready to both kiss and strangle Alex after that. 

The building shook briefly, rocked by a far off explosion. Michael summoned the reserves of his energy, and moved with Alex’s body as they rolled toward the wall. Then all hell started to break loose. The battalion mentioned was not just metaphorically tearing down walls. In the midst of deafening blasts and new alarms wailing in response, he found Alex’s ear. “I want to come home to you, that’s all I want, just when I’m ready.”

“That’s all I want too.”

[vs-redemption]

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.21)

Chapter Twenty-One: The New Serum (HawksxGN!Reader)

A/N: Hello readers! First of all, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who is still reading/following this story! We’re nearing the end now, and I only anticipate a few more chapters. (Famous last words) Also, I’m sorry for the lack of Hawks in this one, but hopefully you are enjoying everything happening with the mad doctor!

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:  

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

“Don’t you feel guilty helping me when your boyfriend is a hero?” Shigaraki’s piercing red glare follows you as you move around the lab underneath Jaku Hospital, constantly keeping you on edge and fearful for your life. You hadn’t anticipated having him as a regular visitor after the first encounter, but thankfully you were getting better at keeping your composure in high stress situations. Over the past few days you’d run dozens of tests and simulations using Shigaraki’s blood, and you knew you were getting closer to the day when you’d actually have to do the real procedure on the villain. You weren’t sure which possible outcome of the experiment you feared worse.

If things went well and you managed to transfer All For One’s quirk, Shigaraki would be even more powerful than before. Would there even be anybody strong enough to take him down at that point? How many people would be hurt or killed thanks to your assistance? The other scenario was if the experiment failed and Shigaraki died or his DNA became too mutated for him to function normally. That would most likely get you a target on your back with the League of Villains. But, for all you knew, they might be planning to kill you just as soon as this was all over anyway.

“I’ve hardly seen my boyfriend in weeks, except in passing,” you respond to the villain as flatly as you can while gesturing for his arm so you could take another vial of his blood. You wished Dr. Garaki would get the samples for himself, but he was currently in the second lab doing status checks on all his terrifying high end nomus. “The hero commission has kept Hawks very busy lately.”

“The hero commission, huh?” Shigaraki narrows his eyes at you before thrusting out his arm. He hated all the poking and prodding you’d been doing to his body, but knew it was the only way for him to eventually get the ultimate power he so desperately craved. That didn’t stop him from whining and complaining like a child sometimes though. “A perfect example of why I hate heroes.”

“What do you mean?” You ask as you fill up a syringe with his blood. It thankfully only took a few seconds. The less direct contact you had with the villain the better.

“They spend all their time risking their lives for other people,” Shigaraki explains as you put a bandage over the spot on his arm where you’d poked him with the needle. He started scratching at the dry, flaking skin on his neck with the chipped nails of his free hand. You’d noticed him doing this whenever he got himself agitated over something. It was a disturbing habit that you wish he’d try to control. “None of the heroes give a second thought to how they’re neglecting their families and loved ones.”

“Hmm,” you ponder over his words as you prepare a sample of the doctor’s newest concoction that he hoped would seamlessly bind Shigaraki’s DNA with All For One’s. Using the deductions of your quirk, you’d decided to start playing around with polarity of the villain’s DNA molecules. The goal was to trick the nucleotides from the two samples into bonding together more cohesively even though they were naturally non-polar.

“Perhaps there’s some truth to that,” you admit calmly, wondering if he really cared about the families of heroes when he didn’t seem to have any issue with disintegrating entire cities full of people. “And let me tell you, as a scientist, I understand your desire to want everyone to fit into perfect categories that follow the same sets of rules. There are always going to be outliers though. Some people can fit comfortably into multiple categories while others, frustratingly, seem to be in a category of their own.” You pause in your ramblings to look back at the villain who was glaring at you with enough intensity to give you chills. You force yourself to let out a small laugh before turning back to the slides you were working on. “Even though I don’t see Hawks that often right now,” you shrug, “I think he’d be there for me if I really needed him.”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” Shigaraki had an eerie smirk on his face and it was a relief to see that it seemed he had no clue about how much you actually did know.

“There are definitely secrets about myself I’m keeping from him,” you gesture between yourself and the villain to show your meaning, even though it was a lie. “So you’re probably right about that.”

Thankfully you weren’t forced to have any more small talk with Shigaraki because the doctor finally came back through the creepy hidden tunnel, looking more or less satisfied with the progress of his nomus. You knew he wished they’d move toward completion at a faster pace, but the way he was manipulating DNA was already unstable enough without trying to rush the process.

“Did you test the new serum?” he asks once he finishes locking up the secret entrance.

“Not yet,” you tell him. “I was just about to.” He comes over and watches you push the slide with Shigaraki’s blood underneath the nearest microscope before adding a small drop of the new serum to the sample. You activate your quirk and press your face against the eyepiece to observe the results in as much detail as possible. Slowly, you watched as the two DNA samples fused together. You were used to this part by now, even though it still blew your mind sometimes. The difference this time was that the merged chromosomes looked completely normal, unlike the bulky mutated ones that made up the nomus.

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble to yourself, both out of awe and fear.

“Did it work?” Shigaraki asks impatiently.

“Wait,” you shush him more aggressively than you probably should have, but the chromosomes on the slide had suddenly begun to dissolve and break apart. Before you could deliver that bad news, the broken DNA inexplicably began to reform. “Something is happening.” You continue watching for a moment as the chromosomes break and repair themselves in a constant loop. You back away from the microscope to look at the doctor, your mind already working to figure out the secret behind the phenomenon. “It worked… sort of.”

“What do you mean sort of?!” Shigaraki sounded annoyed but the doctor remained calm.

“What happened?” he asks.

“The samples blended perfectly this time,” you explain, “but it’s still unstable. The DNA is simultaneously destroying and repairing itself. Take a look.” The doctor pulls over a stool so that he can reach the microscope to peer into the lens. What he sees makes him smile and bounce on his feet with excitement. He backs away from the microscope and hops off the stool.

“I know exactly why this is happening,” Dr. Garaki was beaming. “Good news Shigaraki! I don’t think you’ll have to wait much longer now.”

As usual, you had a lot of objections, but it was pointless to try and talk him into slowing down. Shigaraki wanted his power as soon as possible, and the doctor wasn’t going to make him wait any longer than absolutely necessary. Even if it was dangerous to use the leader of the villains as the first test subject, you knew they would do it anyway.

“It’s because the DNA was able to fuse perfectly,” the doctor turns his attention to you, “All For One’s regeneration quirk must have been activated. I anticipate that this sample will continue to try and fix itself until it finds a way to stabilize.”

The mere possibility of that being true astonished you. If the doctor wasn’t a madman who planned to turn an already dangerous villain into an unstoppable force of evil, he could do so much good with the discovery you both had just made. There were so many people who suffered with self-destructive quirks that would benefit from a serum like this. You wondered if Shigaraki’s skin problems would be alleviated after the procedure.

With a regenerating serum, so many exciting possibilities had just opened up. It was just too bad that you were stuck in such a messed up situation. You’d told the doctor that you weren’t going to judge him for helping the League of Vilains with the information you gathered, but you hadn’t expected him to have you work with Shigaraki directly. It worried you that you would be forced to go through with this insane idea soon. The silver lining was that, like the nomus, Shigaraki’s procedure would probably take quite a while to complete. You had no idea exactly how long it would take for All For One’s DNA to integrate with Shigaraki’s completely, but you had to imagine rewiring someone’s genes took time. It most likely was going to be excruciating for the villain as well. You wondered if he’d even survive if his DNA was going to be destroying and repairing itself over and over again.

“What are you thinking?” Dr. Garaki’s question pulls you out of your thoughts.

“I’m thinking we can check on the progress of this sample tomorrow,” you tell him almost robotically. You couldn’t let the implications of what you were doing affect you now. You had to continue to play the morally neutral scientist. “We can try to calculate the rate of repair to see if the regeneration is even working the way you think it is. Once we know that much, we’ll probably be able to predict just how long the procedure will take to complete.”

“Good idea!” the doctor claps his hands once. “Let’s start recording as much data as we can now with your quirk so we can come up with an accurate timeline later.”

The two of you set to work while Shigaraki watches and complains about there being nothing to do. You envied him of having the luxury of his biggest concern at the moment being his boredom. There were so many worries occupying your mind at present that being bored was far from being possible. You were already dreading having to inform Hawks of everything that had happened that day. If the Hero Commission didn’t find a way to put a stop to the villains before Shigaraki’s procedure was completed, there would be no limit to the amount of destruction he’d be able to cause.

[eternallyyoungjustice]

Wherever the Winds Take You: Chapter 13

A/N: Okay, not gonna lie, didn’t really edit this one much. It’s super duper short, sticks pretty close to the episode, and it’s just been a week. So I apologize for any spelling errors or awkward phrasing. But otherwise, I hope you all like it! Thank you so much for your continued support of my shameless guilty pleasure.

Santa Prisca July 22 21:10

The tunnel remained dark and cold for a few minutes, the only sounds being the ragged breaths of six young heroes and the shuffle of feet against stone. All members collectively could hear their own heartbeat in their ears, and felt the adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Finally, a loud crack broke the silence and an eerie red glow emitted from the glowstick that Aqualad held and promptly tossed to the ground. Every member of the team stood there; Kid Flash and Zephyr showing the most wear, as the non-humans held good composure and Robin stood silently, staring at the barricade of rock and debris that separated the team from the way they came.

After a moment, however, Robin finally broke the silence.

“How could my first mission as leader go so wrong?”

“You do have the most experience, but perhaps that is exactly what has left you unprepared.” Aqualad spoke. “Fighting alongside Batman, your roles are defined. You two do not need to talk. But this team is new, and a leader must be clear, explicit. He cannot vanish and expect others to play parts in an unknown plan.”

Robin whirled around, snarled and poison-tongued. “Oh, so I’m supposed to hold everyone’s hands?!” The boy let out a growl of frustration and glared down at the ground. But then, after a moment, the tension in his shoulders released and his form slumped slightly. “Oh, who am I kidding? You should lead us, Kaldur. You’re the only one who can.”

“Please! I can run circles-” Kid Flash’s outburst was cut off by Robin’s now much calmer tone. “Wally, come on. You know he’s the one.” The young boy’s eyes lifted to meet his elder’s. “We all do.”

“Hello, Megan! It’s so obvious!” M’gann chirped.

“Could’a told you.” Superboy shrugged.

Kaldur’s eyes met Lina’s knowing gaze. “You know you have my vote.”

Everyone turned to Wally, who stood awkwardly for a moment before sighing in resignation. “Okay!”

“Then I accept the burden,” Kaldur nodded, stepping towards Robin and placing a hand on the younger boy’s shoulder, “until you are ready to lift it from my shoulders. You were born to lead this team, maybe not now, but soon.” Robin nodded, his normal smile returning to his face.

Kaldur turned back to speak to the team as a whole. “Alright, our first priority is preventing that shipment from leaving this island.”

“Funny,” Robin smirked, “I had the same thought.”

As the group began to dash down the tunnel’s length, they began to compare notes.

“Robin and I discovered data about the new shipments on a computer in the warehouse.” Kid Flash spoke up. “It looks like Kobra has combined Venom and the Blockbuster formula from Cadmus, making Venom three times as strong and permanent.”  

“So obviously Kobra attacked Bane’s Satna Prisca to have an unlimited supply of the Venom formula, making it able to create the new superformula.” Robin explained. “Which explains how normal supply chains have been cut off if--it’s for a whole new product. But it doesn’t explain how Kobra got his hands on Dr. Desmond’s formula.”

“We discovered that the supplier arriving today was the villain, Sportsmaster.” Aqualad nodded.

Robin pulled up his holo-computer. “Okay, so that must mean Sportsmaster is the supplier and buyer...but it still doesn’t track. He’s a gun for hire, he doesn’t have the power to acquire the blockbuster formula or to get Kobra to do his dirty work.”

“And neither of them have the chops to bond blockbuster with venom. That took some major nerdage.” Kid Flash chimed in.

“I believe the expression is…” As the team arrived at the mouth of the entrance, they were met with the sight of Bane standing there, finishing pumping himself with his normal venom serum which connected from a tube from his arm to the base of his skull, and seemed to enhance his muscle to an inhuman amount. With a sigh of relief, the masked villain dropped the vial formerly containing venom and gazed down at the team of young heroes with a crazed look in his eyes. “‘tip of the iceberg’.”

“Halt, ninos.” Bane growled and revealed a handheld trigger in his grasp. “I’m feeling...explosive.” Simultaneous beeping alerted the team to gaze up, revealing a large number of charged explosives around the mouth of the tunnel.

“You betrayed us, why?” Aqualad spoke, in a tone that-to anyone that knew him-sounded very fake. Bane, however, didn’t seem to notice the falseness. While Bane was distracted, the Atlantean reached out via the telepathic link. “Kid, you’ll need a running start.”

“I want my factory back!” Bane began to monologue. “So I forced you into a situation where you would either take down my enemies for me, or die trying. If the latter, the Justice League would certainly have come to avenge their sidekicks. And when the smoke cleared, Santa Prisca would be mine once more...blowing the tunnel with you inside, should have the same effects.”

Caught in his own monologue, Bane didn’t see the dark blue that flew by him.

“With what?” Kid Flash suddenly asked, now suddenly behind the hulking man and holding the hand-held trigger that had just been in Bane’s grasp. “This trigger thingy?”

Bane let out a loud growl and pulled back to land a strong punch to the speedster, but promptly found himself being lifted off his feet by an invisible force. Being slowly turned around, Bane saw a smiling Miss Martain standing under him, lifting him telekinetically with a raised hand.

“Finally,” Superboy smirked as he stepped forward, and cracked his knuckles. “Drop him.”

Santa Prisca July 22 21:31

Back outside the warehouse, at its helipad, we watched patiently until Sportsmaster and Kobra bid goodbye to one another. Sportsmaster was a tall, hulking man that was essentially all muscle, who wore a signature goalie mask over his face, but otherwise had no notable physical traits. Kobra, on the other hand, has an almost just as tall figure with an equally as strong build, although his muscles were not nearly as hulking as his compatriots’ and hid his figure under a dark crimson cloak. His pale skin was almost anemic and seemed to glow under the light of the moon, but somehow didn’t make him look sickly. Overall, the aura around him made Zephyr’s spine tingle uncomfortably.

“This Kobra man…” Zephyr whispered from her spot in the shadows next to Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. “I do not like his vibe.”

Robin snickered quietly. “Have you liked any villains’ ‘vibe’ before?”

The young girl thought for a moment. “Poison Ivy.” She whispered, thinking deeply. “She is, uh, qu'est-ce que...fine as hell, tres tres bonne. Robin, why are most of your famous villains so good-looking, hm? Seems very unfair.”

This made both Robin and Kid Flash snort with laughter to the point where they had to muffle themselves.

“Do you want to trade cities Zeph’?” Robin asked, eyebrows cocked in amusement.

The young women paled, recalling the patrol she and Aqualad had done the other night. “Fair enough! No thank you!”

This made Robin chuckle a little more.

Sportsmaster began to make his way towards the helicopter, causing Aqualad to give Kid Flash his signal, and the young ginger ran off at lightning speed, knocking down cultists and pulling gunfire in his wake.

“Protect the shipment!” A cult member exclaimed. Just in time for Superboy to jump and land in front of Mammoth, who stood next to Kobra.

“Go again?” The clone yelled at the hulking beast, causing it to roar and attack. However, it was promptly forced off-course by a sudden continuous force of water, controlled by Aqualad, sending him right into nearby trees. “Sorry, not the plan.”

As Mammoth roared fiercely and began to fight back against being sprayed, Zephyr flew over him, moving her arms and collecting as many of the coldest Winds she could find. The girl reached high up into the atmosphere to find the ones to complete her task and sent them crashing down onto the blast of water and onto Mammoth, freezing the water around him until slowly but eventually, he was encased in thick, frigid, ice.

At being controlled so forcefully, the Winds carrying Zephyr faltered and the girl landed on the ground in a crouching stance. “I am going to be honest with you,” She called to her new team leader as she dodged a cultist’s fire. “I did not know if that would work!” She managed to grab hold of the cultist’s gun and bashed him in the head with it, before chucking it at another cultist’s head, successfully rendering both unconscious.

“Be thankful it did then!” Aqualad yelled back as he fought his own share of cultists.

Not a moment later, the helicopter filled with products began to take off with Sportsmaster inside. Zephyr turned and prepared her Winds to go after it, just in case, but was relieved when it exploded into flames mid-air, causing it to plummet down towards the factory. Off in the distance, the figure of Sportsmaster leaping out and deploying a parachute could be seen.

As the burning helicopter dropped into the factory, it only took a moment before a deep, rumbling ‘boom’ seemed to shake the island as a whole, and flames erected from the giant metal structures. As the fire began to swallow up the entirety of the warehouses, the cultists-those who remained conscious enough to stand-began to flee from the helipad and into the forest, causing the team to turn its attention to Kobra, who stood (no longer wearing his cloak) over Robin, with a single foot pinning the boy to the ground. The cult leader seemed to scan the six teenagers carefully as if weighing his chances of success, but ultimately began to move away, removing his foot from Robin’s chest and slinking away into the shadows of the trees with a low, grumbling “another time then…”

Robin stood, and immediately darted into where Kobra had disappeared, but alas, he was gone without a trace. Slowly walking back to his team, Robin gazed up at the sizzling remains of the factory and watched the flames like at the metal for a moment, before looking back down at his comrades.

“We picked the right guy to lead.” Robin nodded with a smile at Aqualad. “...automatically making you the right guy to explain this mess to Batman!” Robin walked away, laughing, and Kaldur’s face seemed to immediately drain of any blood as fear entered his eyes.

“Don’t worry Aqualad.” M’gann piped up, floating close to her leader. “We won’t let Batman chew you out too much! Besides, I was technically the one who made the helicopter explode.”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it too much.” Wally smiled. “We’re a team now, which means we’re all gonna be killed by Bats equally!” This earned him looks from all the remaining members.

“Your bedside manner definitely could use some improvements, my friend.” Lina shook her head, but she quickly offered a supportive smile to her best friend-now leader.

Mount Justice July 23 10:01

“A simple recon mission! Observe and report!” Batman growled loudly, his tone so uniquely terrifying that it could possibly strike fear into every living creature on the planet. Or at least that’s what it felt like. “You will each receive a written evaluation detailing your many mistakes. But until then…”

The main open room of the cave seemed to ring with anticipated breath as the co-leader of the Justice League paused.

“Good job.”

This shocked every member of the team with surprise, causing them to all whirl their heads to look at Batman with bewildered looks.

“No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy. How you adjust to the unforeseen is what determines success. And how you choose who leads determines character.” Batman turned and began walking away. “You’re all dismissed.”

“Did…” Wally spoke, a small smile itching at his lips. “Did we just get verbally patted on the back by the Batman? For blowing up a factory?”

“I...I think we did!” Robin chuckled, running a stunned hand through his spiky black hair.

“We just finished our first actual mission together, right?” M’gann perked up. “I believe that’s cause for celebration! What do you guys think?” All the members of the team looked to one another, and then looked to Kaldur.

“Well...leader gives the orders.” Robin smirked.

Kaldur smiled and nodded. “Celebration is well-deserved, I think.”

The team all cheered, or in Superboy’s case silently smiled, and began making their way towards the exit to the cave.

“I’m thinking...pizza, Chinese food, snacks and a movie marathon...with possibly dessert provided by the lovely M’gann?” Wally asked, shooting finger guns at the martian herself.

“You...want me to make dessert? After my batch of cookies went so wrong?” M’gann asked, seemingly delighted and flattered.

“I will give you some help in the kitchen M’gann, don’t worry,” Lina said, locking her arm with the younger girl’s. “We’re going to need two sets of hands in the kitchen if we need to feed Kid Mouth and everyone else anyway.”

“Oh, this is going to be sweet!!” Wally exclaimed.

As the gang began to loudly plan their big party, Lina leaned away from the conversation slightly, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her jean jacket. Unlocking the device, she quickly found her and Roy’s texting conversation. Smiling to herself, she quickly types out her message.

Call me when you get home from patrol tonight! You’re going to want to hear about our first mission! Guess who our new leader is…. :D -L

[red-writing-on-asylum-walls]

FebuWhump Day 9: Truth Serum

In which I finally angst Daniel Fuller.

Warnings: vomiting, blood, forced confessions (not of the love variety), spoilers for Micoverse if you squint reaaaallllyyyyy hard

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Milo tips the vial of pale liquid into Dan’s coffee, wraps the empty container in a paper towel, and throws it in the trash before hurrying back to his seat at the table. He shovels a forkful of pancakes into his mouth, heart racing as he listens to Dan’s footsteps coming back down the hall.

Dan sits down opposite Milo and takes a drink of a his coffee without a second thought, picking up the newspaper again. Milo watches him for several quiet minutes, waiting. He’s not sure what he’s waiting for, the one-eyed lady at the shop hadn’t told him how to know the serum had taken affect. After a while, Dan must feel his stare because he looks up from his paper with a smile,

“What’s up, little shark? Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Well, um,” Milo squirms in his seat, gaze darting around the room before he glances at Dan again, “Where—I was wondering where Jake is. Do you know where he is?”

“He’s at a doctor’s appointment, getting his heart checked up on,” Dan says easily. Then he blinks, frowning in confusion, “Wait…I…that’s not what I…”

Milo brightens instantly. The serum works! He can finally get the truth about everything! He sets his fork down and shoves the half eaten plate of food away, eyes bright and excited as he pulls out his phone and sets it to record. Dan is still frowning, trying to process what he’s said, taking idle sips of his coffee as he mutters to himself.

“Hey Dad!”

“Mm?” Dan glances up, still clearly distracted.

“Are you and Jake lying about what happened to my real dad?”

“Yes.” Dan says and pales dramatically. He drops his coffee mug, lets it bounce off the table and clatter to the floor, spilling his remaining drink that spreads a brown stain across the tile, “I—n-no, I didn’t—Milo!”

The elation Milo had felt at the serum’s success deflates, the smile slipping off his face, “You…you were lying…? This whole time? Why? Why were you lying to me!? Why didn’t you tell me the truth!?”

“Because we didn’t think you could handle the truth! We didn’t want to hurt you! We didn’t mean for things to go on like this, we thought we could change things before it got too far. But we didn’t know how and now we’re here and it—nhgk—d-doesn’t—hn—no! I’m not—M-Milo, what’ve you—“ Dan slaps his hands over his mouth, pressing his jaw shut, struggling to swallow down the words that want to spill out. His breathing is rapid, panic in his eyes as he stares at Milo from across the table.

But Milo is angry now. Bitter and emboldened and determined to finally, finally, get the truth.

“What did you do to my dad?” He growls. Dan shakes his head, tears springing into his eyes as he fights the serum pumping through his system. Milo slams his hands on the table, rocking to his feet and knocking his chair over with a bang, “What did you and Jake do to my dad!? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!? TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO MILO SUMENY!”

Dan gags and blood sprays out from between his fingers. Some part of Milo buried under all his hurt and rage is horrified, wants to stop, wants to take it all back and pretend it never happened so they can be happy again.

“TELL ME!” Milo screams, pounding his fists into the tabletop, his own angry tears streaking his face, “TELL ME THE TRUTH! TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO HIM! WHERE’S MY DAD!? WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?”

Dan opens his mouth behind his hands to gasp for air, blood dripping off his tongue and smearing down his chin. But the serum betrays him, forcing the words out of his strangled throat,

“It was an a-accident, we didn’t know—Milo s-stop this!—what it—Milo please!—would do to him. It—no! No! I won’t!” Dan clenches his teeth, again, squeezing his eyes shut, tears running through the blood on his face. His chest is heaving, his body shivering with pain as he struggles to keep his mouth shut against the tidal wave of truths pounding in his lungs.

“TELL ME!” Milo’s voice cracks, voice ringing in a scream that is hurt and bitter and angry and scared and so many other things all tangled together, “TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!”

He wants this to stop. He’d never wanted to hurt Dan. But he’s too far along now, too close to finally learning the truth he’s been so desperately searching for.

Dan convulses and vomits up a mixture of blood and coffee across the tabletop, “M-Milo, please…dh-don’t do th-this…We didn’t mean for this to happen. We should have t-tried h-h-harder…” He coughs, slumping in his seat, his breaths wheezing in his throat, his body shuddering, “What happened to you wasn’t fair and I’m sorry, Milo, I’m s-so sorry. But when—“ Dan grits his teeth again, biting off the words, arching his back against the agony radiating from inside him. Milo can see the tendons standing out in his neck, the rapid throbbing of the veins beneath his skin, the sheen of sweat soaking into the front of Dan’s shirt.

And suddenly Milo is afraid.

It strikes him that he has never, not once, seen Daniel Fuller cry.

But here he is, crying, suffering and crying, right in front of him.

And it’s all Milo’s fault.

Milo made Dan cry.

“Daddy…?” He says in a hoarse voice, words choked on emotions and tears. Dan looks down at him, unfocused, wheezing, blood still oozing from between his gritted teeth,

“Do…do you and Jake…love me?”

Dan lets out a noise that might have been a gasping sob if it wasn’t so shaky and weak, “Baby shark…Milo, sweetie…Milo, my sunshine, of course we do.”

“How…” Milo stares at the tabletop, at the red smears across of it, pointing accusingly in his direction, his clenched fists trembling at his sides, lower lip trembling as he tries not to cry, “How much…how m-much do you love me…?”

“Oh Milo,” Dan sighs and when Milo looks up, Dan is smiling at him, through tears and blood and pain, Dan is smiling at him and it’s warm and honest and no truth serum in the world is needed for Milo to know that Dan means it with all his heart,

“We love you more than anything. We would do anything for you. Jake and I both. We love you.”

Milo breaks.

He lets out a choked sob and throws himself around the table and into Dan’s arms, heedless of the blood and sweat and tears staining his hoodie. He is only desperate to hold his dad, to hold onto him until his fingers ache because he loves him, he loves Dan and he loves Jake and he wouldn’t trade them for all the secrets in all the worlds. He sobs into Dan’s shift, apologies and pleas for forgiveness and promises to be good all spilling out and tangling into a stream of breathless surrender.

And Dan just holds him.

Dan picks Milo up in his big, strong, warm arms and gently holds him, hushes him, tells him it’s okay, it’s okay, he understands and he’s sorry. He’s so, so sorry. His fingers card gently through Milo’s red hair, he presses tender kisses to Milo’s forehead, and promises that no matter what happens, he will always love and protect Milo.

“You’re our little shark,” He murmurs against Milo’s temple as the teen hiccups tears into the crook of Dan’s neck,

“You’re our sunshine, Milo. And we can’t live without the sun.”