#yeah i hope we can kill corporations that make this happen thanks

[hoetao]

looking up anything on the internet without knowing e x a c t l y what you're looking for has been hell for a while, but lord.

fucking lord.

try searching for an image that you only remember vaguely.

you could do it once! with just keywords! and not see shit that makes you want to wipe your eyes with bleach!!!

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

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[bi-bard]

On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’ - Scott Imagine [Twisters]

Title: On My Line, You’re Hooked, I’m Fishin’

Pairing: Scott [Twisters] X Reader

Word Count: 3,126 words

Warning(s): argument, grabbing someone's wrist

Summary: [Somewhat inspired by "Too Easy" by Tanner Adell] When a new company rolls into town during tornado season, Tyler's team is curious. Perfect uniforms, all looking ready for picture wasn't exactly the normal look for tornado chasing. (Y/n) volunteers to be the one to gather some much-needed intel, doing whatever they need to in order to get it.

Author's Note: I have about five Twisters imagines in my drafts right now.

Listen. I'm have something cute about this guy in my drafts, but he pissed me off in this movie, so I have to get that shit out first. It's part of my process.

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There was always a lot of energy during tornado season, but nothing beat the feelings on those first few days.

There was all this hope. This adrenaline going for something that hadn't even happened yet. A little while in, you would get an idea about how the season was going to go. The not-knowing before that was the best part. Endless possibilities and all that.

All that to explain that it felt normal for our team to be jumping off the walls like kids in a candy shop when we first all made it to Oklahoma.

Boone and Tyler were sorting out the truck. Dexter and Dani were making sure the trailer was stocked with merch and food for those who needed it. I hadn't been given a task, so I was left to pretty much my own devices. As a result, Lily was left working on her drone while I talked her ear off. She didn't seem to mind it.

I looked up over her head to see a group of white trucks and vans pulling up. Nice ones. Clean, new. I saw the logo slapped on the side.

"What in the hell is Storm Par," I asked.

"What?" Lily looked at me before immediately turning to the other vehicles. "No idea."

"Hey, Tyler!" I walked over to the truck.

"What's going on? Sugar high crashing?"

"Very funny," I replied before pointing to the white vehicles. "Who's Storm Par?"

He furrowed his eyebrows. "No idea. Look like a big corporation."

A group of men started climbing out of the vehicles.

"Woah," he muttered.

"Proper science fair dudes," I commented. "Bet you twenty bucks that they have pocket protectors."

Tyler reached out and whacked my shoulder. "Be nice."

"Fine," I grumbled as he turned back to the truck.

I caught one of the men staring at me. He was tall and seemed to have a completely emotionless face. His clothes were neat, perfectly pressed. When he saw that I had noticed him, he had turned away from me, going to follow his team into the gas station.

"Want me to get intel?"

Tyler chuckled. "Intel? What year do you think it is? We can look them up tonight."

"Yeah, but I just caught one of their boys staring at me," I explained. "Let me do it; it'll kill two birds with one stone."

I heard Boone laugh from the other side of the truck. "I love the way you think!"

"Thanks, Boone."

"Alright, fine," Tyler relented. "But hurry up, we gotta get going."

"Thank you," I said. "Anyone want a drink?"

"Get me a Mountain Dew!" Boone called. I pointed at him and nodded.

"Be back in a minute!"

I walked back to the fridges along the back wall. I saw the man who had stared at me was now standing by the fridges.

I stood next to him. "Hey there."

He didn't respond, just staring straight ahead at the fridge. I had to hold in my laugh as I stepped forward to grab two Mountain Dews.

"Did Storm Par put a ban on talking to other tornado chasers," I asked. He didn't reply again. "Or are you just scared? Promise I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he replied.

"Oh my goodness, he speaks." I placed a hand over my chest to pretend to be shocked. I chuckled at his clearly unimpressed expression before holding my hand out. "(Y/n)."

"Scott." he shook my hand before very quickly pulling it back.

"Nice to meet you, Scott," I said. "So, what exactly is Storm Par?"

"We track tornados so the data can be used for research."

"Real specific there," I chuckled at him. "What kind of research?"

He didn't respond.

"Oh, come on, I'm not gonna steal your ideas."

"I'm not worried about it."

"Are you worried that I won't understand it? I'm smarter than I look."

He let out an amused huff before grabbing a water and starting to walk to the checkout. I followed him.

"Maybe you could explain it to me later then," I suggested, hopping in front of him just before he got in line. I smiled at his blank look. "Tonight. There's a bar not too far from here, right next to a hotel that our crew's staying at; I'll buy you a drink."

I watched as his eyes scanned me for a moment. It looked like he was trying to figure out whether or not I was tricking him. I was almost hurt. I mean, I was tricking him, but not in the way that he was assuming.

I turned around to pay for my drinks, so I could step out of the way.

"Come on," I pushed before rattling off the name of the bar. "Meet me there tonight. One drink. If I'm that bad of company, then you can leave and I won't complain once. I'll even try to stay out of your hair during the chases."

Scott took a deep breath. "Fine."

"Yes," I cheered out of mostly fake excitement. "You won't regret this."

"I hope not."

I reached out and fiddled with a button on his white shirt. Far too perfect to be out there chasing storms. "Can't wait to see how well your perfect uniforms last out there."

I stepped back, not missing how his eyes followed my hand.

"See you later, Fancy Pants!" I waved as I started running back out to Tyler's truck.

"How'd it go," Tyler asked as I hopped into the passenger seat.

"Didn't get much," I admitted, handing Boone his drink before buckling up. "But I did get him to say yes to meeting me for a drink later."

"Atta kid!" Boone clapped his hand over my shoulder.

"I know, I know, a miracle worker," I replied. "Ready to get out there?"

"Absolutely," Tyler said.

The rest of the day went so much faster than it had any right to.

We saw Storm Par a lot. It took everything in me to not be a bit of a dick when we passed them. I did wave once when I spotted Scott in the passenger seat of one of the trucks. He nodded at me in an awkward greeting, which led to him getting a bit of a weird look from the man who was driving.

"What are you doing?" Tyler laughed as I relaxed back into my seat.

"Playing with the food," Boone answered before I could, causing me to laugh loudly.

"I was gonna say 'being friendly', but that's better," I said.

Maybe that was the excitement of it all messing with my head, but it felt like it took a matter of minutes before we found ourselves driving to the bar that I had told Scott to meet me at.

I walked in ahead of the group, trying to keep from laughing at the comments that Boone was shouting over my shoulder.

I saw some of the other guys from Storm Par at a table together. At the actual bar was Scott. He looked a bit tense, almost disheartened. I started to wonder just how long he had been there. Had I kept him waiting? Did he think that I stood him up? Was that the face of stubbornness just before calling the night a bust and going back to wherever he was staying?

I guess it didn't matter now. I couldn't back out.

"Fancy pants!" I called before walking over quickly. He seemed startled as I plopped onto the barstool next to him. "How was your day?"

"You should know, you were there for most of it," he replied.

"Was that a joke or are you just annoyed with me," I asked.

"Guess you'll have to figure it out." he shrugged. I saw a small grin form as he took a sip of his drink.

I let out a scoff. "Wow, Fancy Pants is bold now. A couple of sips is all it took?"

Scott rolled his eyes. The bartender walked over to us. I just asked for the same of whatever Scott had been drinking before focusing back on the conversation.

"The uniform held up well, I see." I pulled lightly at one of the white sleeves of his shirt. "Research must not be as hands-on as I thought it was."

"We do the same thing your crew does," he argued.

"With a bigger paycheck, I'm sure," I replied.

"Our work is a bit more important."

"And what work is that?"

"Why don't you tell me about yours first?" he smirked at me before taking another sip of his drink.

He thought it was clever. I could tell. Avoid my question by focusing the attention back on me. In any other situation, it would have screwed me out of the information that I needed.

But in this one... it was a mistake.

Here's the thing: I could talk. I could go on and on for hours about absolute nonsense. I could go from story to story without taking a breath.

And I did.

I told him about all the work that we had done to help people. About digging through the destroyed debris to try and find some pieces of people's lives. About making bundles of food. Then, I just started telling stories about every funny or weird moment that had happened since I had joined Tyler's crew.

The time that I burned served me well. Scott relaxed. Whether that was a result of his drink or simply because I was earning his trust was a mystery to me. I didn't bother focusing on which it was.

"Alright, alright," I said. "That's enough about what I do. Tell me about Storm Par."

"I told you; we collect data for future tornado research," Scott replied.

"Oh, come on." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, not to be rude, but I've seen your team. You're all a bit young to be jumping into research all on your own. And Storm Par doesn't sound like a company attached to a college."

"No, no, we're a private company," he explained. "We've had some luck finding a few really interested investors."

"Like...?"

"The biggest one is Marshall Riggs. He's a big-name real estate guy."

I couldn't quite put the pieces together at the time, but I felt a pit in my stomach. Unease that formed all too fast. "What would a real estate guy want with tornado research?"

"He's helping people," Scott's response felt like an attempt to twist an image that hadn't even been made yet. "He uses it to find people that have lost their homes and businesses and such and he buys them. It allows those people to move forward with their lives without having to wait for insurance to make a call on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Doesn't a disaster usually force the prices down for land?"

"I mean, it's lower than the normal price. It's not like he's buying this land up for five dollars and a pack of gum."

"What other aid does Storm Par offer them then, if they're getting rid of their homes and land?"

"Our investors focus funds on the research."

"So no?"

"So we're focused on the bigger picture. More long-term consequences."

I took the subtlest deep breath that I could. "I see."

I looked down at my watch.

"Oh, look at that, it's a lot later than I thought," I said, completely lying through my teeth. "We have to head out early in the morning."

I handed my card to the bartender, muttering for him to just cover both of our drinks.

"I can walk you out," Scott replied.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I mumbled, scribbling down a tip and putting my card away.

I followed Scott outside, letting him hold the door open. I wanted to seem less tense than I was. I was doubting how well it was working, but all I needed was for it to be good enough to get out of there without being questioned, so who really cares?

We made it outside. I was about to insist that we go our separate ways for the night, but he cut me off.

"You were right," Scott said. "Didn't regret that."

"Oh, good," I replied. I may have regretted it.

There was a long pause. Scott went to step closer to me. I almost scrambled back before he could, forcing out a chuckle.

"Well, I should go." I shrugged, continuing to walk backward before eventually turning around and just calling to him over my shoulder. "Have a good night. Stay safe. See you around, fancy pants!"

A few minutes later, I was knocking on Tyler's door like I was a landlord looking for late rent.

"(Y/n), what the hell are you doing," he asked as he yanked the door open. "You're gonna piss off somebody."

"I'm already a bit pissed, so maybe it'll do some good to share the suffering," I replied before shoving my way past him. "I have answers."

"About Storm Par?"

"No about what Scott likes to do on a nice summer day- Yes about Storm Par!"

"You are grumpy when it's late." he sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Shut up," I slapped his shoulder. "I found out about Storm Par's funding."

"Okay..."

"So, yes, they do research and track the storms and report that data back to their investors," I explained. "The problem is that their major investor is named Marshall Riggs, who has apparently made quite a name for himself in real estate."

"What would he want with it?"

"Well, he's going to the places impacted by the storms and buying up land from people who lose their homes and businesses and stuff. He's apparently spinning some story that he's allowing people to move forward with their lives, but come on, he's just using this information to get his hands on cheap land."

"Do you know what he's doing with the land?"

"I didn't ask."

"Okay..."

"Storm Par is giving this man power to do some real harm here."

"I know, I know."

"So, what are we gonna do," I asked, looking at Tyler again.

"I... I don't know," he replied, running his hand over his face.

"We can't just let him keep doing this!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed. "I don't even know if this guy is doing something that's technically illegal-"

"It's still wrong!" I snapped at him.

"I know!"

I froze.

"But whatever we do won't stop him. He'll keep preying on desperate people and whatever we say won't change what impact he might have on them. They're desperate, they think they're alone."

"So we just do nothing?"

"No." Tyler shook his head. "What we can do is continue helping people."

I nodded. "I just... I feel like there's just so much more that we could do."

"In a perfect world, we would be able to speak out and it would stop him." he shrugged. "It would make him give up and walk off with his tail between his legs. But we can't. We just have to do what we can."

I took a deep breath. Tyler pulled me into a hug.

"We're doing good work. And we'll only earn more outreach. We'll continue to do better."

I stepped back. "I'm still going to be an asshole tomorrow."

"Just don't end up dead or in jail."

"I'll do my best," I shrugged before going to walk out. "Good night!"

"Night!" he called out after me.

I was hoping that the next morning would have been mostly calm. That we would get out into the field before Storm Par or vice versa. Something to keep me from having to face Scott for just a few more hours.

I was walking back to the truck after picking up some breakfast. I was occupied with my own thoughts. I was still upset. I was still fighting the urge to go scream from the rooftops about Marshall Riggs and the bullshit he was doing.

"(Y/n)!"

I considered sprinting to the truck when I heard Scott say my name. I just wasn't feeling mean enough to do that... yet.

"Scott," I said as I turned around. "How are ya?"

"Good, good, what about you?"

"I'm fine, just busy," I replied, going to step away. "Heading out early and all."

Scott stepped forward. "I was hoping to ask if you wanted to meet again tonight. Maybe dinner instead of a drink."

"I... I don't think that'd be a good idea."

His face fell. "Oh... why?"

"I just don't think we clicked like I thought we would." the goal was to maintain the peace until the end of the season. "But hey, we tried it, that's what matters. I'll... I'll see you out there."

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"Nope, you were just fine. Just didn't work."

I turned to walk away but was stopped when Scott grabbed my wrist. "I don't believe that."

I yanked my arm from him. "Don't ever fucking grab me again."

"I just want the truth."

"I told you the truth." I turned away again.

I was grabbed again. "Just wait-"

I pulled my arm away and shoved him backward. "I fucking warned you to not grab me like that again."

He seemed to still be reeling from the fact that I shoved him.

"You want the truth? Fine," I shrugged. "I find your company and what it stands for to be completely despicable. I think it's disgusting that y'all would accept money to help a man take advantage of innocent people. I think it's disgusting that you don't seem to give a damn about it. If I could tear your company down, I would, but in reality, my words would never stop you or your damn investors. And I hope that one day you wake up, look in the mirror, and feel the crushing pain of all those that you helped that man manipulate."

Scott stepped forward, a response clearly ready, but he looked over my shoulder and froze.

"(Y/n), you good?" I heard Tyler's voice call over to me.

"Yeah," I yelled over my shoulder. "Just having a quick chat!"

I stepped away again, walking as quickly as I could to make it over to him and the rest of the crew.

"Didn't end up in jail," I offered, trying to look at the bright side.

"I almost did," he muttered. "Get in the truck."

I did a little salute to him before going around to the passenger seat. I saw Tyler stare down Scott for a few more seconds before hopping in the driver's seat.

Maybe there was some argument to be made about the benefits of killing someone with kindness. But that just wasn't how I operated. And I think I'm better off that way.

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[bazaarwords]

in spite of war [1/? | griddlehark | post-canon]

@votum-cordis thank u for this! i've taken some... artistic liberties....

(also big thank u to @smokestarrules for reading this)

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

Corporeal is a word I probably wouldn’t have used to describe myself, before.

Not that I wasn’t, just that I’d never, like, looked in the mirror and said: Check me out. Corporeal. I can touch myself. Weheheyyy.

I mean, I’d done that in a mirror. A couple times, actually. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, I told Ianthe once. She’d had a knife to my neck. Don’t really remember how we got on the topic.

You’d think being dead would rip the horniness out of your loins, kicking and screaming and then cold and dead, just like the rest of you. But it really doesn’t.

Anyway, corporealism.

So, the reason I’d been thinking about it was the head massager. You know, one of the ones with the spindly little wires and the handle that you press down over your head and that makes you feel tingly and weird. I’d found it in my room, sitting on the foot of my bed with such deliberate placement I’d first thought: trap. It’s obviously a trap.

Then, you know, being dead doesn’t get rid of your curiosity either. I think it makes it worse, actually. You know what dying feels like, so if that’s the worst thing that happens then whatever. Been there, done that. 

Let the head massager squeeze my brains out and kill me. Won’t be as bad as last time. Won’t be as bad as the River where you’re simultaneously hot and cold, wet and dry, feeling every single human emotion (and a few inhuman ones, too) while your soul is ricocheted around like a pinball.

Let me just say. That first time I tried it? I would have killed Dad-God all over again for that sensation.

I must have sat on my bed for an hour, feeling the cold metal points warm up as they dragged across my scalp. By the time I’d decided I was done, I was half-asleep, noodly and lame, curled up in a ball, the massager stuck on my head like a new and stupid hat.

Then you knocked at my door. I might have tried to save face, might have scrambled to my feet and ripped the thing off my head. A lot stays the same when you're dead, but some things change, too. I didn’t really give a shit how stupid I looked. I was relaxing.

“Yeah?” I called, too blissed out to get up.

“What are you doing, Nav?” You asked, with the kind of inflection that made it sound like you knew exactly what I was doing.

“Having private me-time. That’s being ruined.” I said, with the kind of inflection that made it sound like nothing at all was being ruined.

There was a pause. I didn’t look up, but I could feel you looking at me. I could always feel it, you know? Even back when we were kids, when we were different people. I didn’t have to be able to touch myself (lmao) to feel you around.

And, I don’t know, I guess I thought—granted, like an idiot—that things would be different. Death doesn’t take the hope away, either. Which sucks ass. I wish it did.

“We’re approaching Cyprus-b,” is all you said, and then I heard the door close.

The massager slid off my head, landing back on the bed with a little thump. I felt every bit of it, and the silence after.

I’ve got a sewn-up hole in my chest and that—the little click of the door latch—made me feel emptier than the memory of my shitty, beating heart.

next

[bangtansocean]

Roommate's Prohibited List: Four

Content Table: 01 l 02 l 03 l 04 l 05

FOUR

“So, how’s it been?” Mingyu sips on his iced coffee with curious eyes, his bright lime jacket contrasting with the white and pastel palette of the cafe. 

 Monica takes her coffee in silence, waiting for your reply with eagerness as you haven’t been able to really talk about your new home ever since. 

“They are great guys.” You nod to yourself, setting your warm chocolate down. “The place is absolutely beautiful, and they have been very welcoming.” 

It’s only been a couple of days since you moved in your new place, but things have gone better than you could have hoped for.

The guys have been busy, so they spend most of the time outside of the apartment and don't come back until the sun starts setting. You learnt that Yeonjun is doing his hospital practices during summer to save himself some time before university starts, and that Beomgyu is an orientation week volunteer for the incoming engineers at the university. So you basically have the house for yourself in the mornings, and whenever one of them comes back home, you enjoy their stories as you game together or have a drink on the terrace.  

Mingyu smiles at the news. “They are great guys indeed, I promise it will feel like home in no time!” You thank him with a shy smile. 

“So when am I coming over?!” Monica asks, her eyebrows raised as he blinks dramatically, making you laugh. 

“Well, about that,” Your smile grows bigger. “You can come by anytime. The guys have this system where each roommate gets one friend who gets an extra key and can come by whenever.” You pull the extra key from your purse and place it on the table. “It’s all yours.” 

Monica stares at the key and then back at you, her eyes growing bigger. “Wait really? I get my own set of keys?!” She slowly reaches for the keys and slides them closer to her. 

“Ah yes, the free pass friend.”Mingyu throws his head back laughing. “We’ve had our fair share of horror stories with those.” He sighs, remembering all the crazy hook up drama that happened before he and Yeonjun got girlfriends. “Yeonjun wanted to kill me when he saw his ex coming out of my room.” 

You stare in horror at Mingyu as he shakes his head and laughs at the memory before Monica hits him with her purse. “You slept with your roommate’s ex-girlfriend?! You’re disgusting!” She rolls her eyes as he laughs harder, and you can’t help but watch them in silence, fairly entertained by them. 

“She wasn’t even his girlfriend back then!” He explains, covering himself from another purse attack. “They were best friends! Things got a little messy with me and Yeonjun after that though, because he obviously had feelings for her and well.. I just wanted to fuck her.” He shrugs, gaining another purse slap from Monica. 

“Mingyu!!” She screams. “Jesus Christ! Thank God you found Mei, otherwise you would be infected with who knows how many STD’s by now.” She speaks, her hands moving exasperatedly as she speaks. 

“Yeah, you’re not wrong to be honest.” He shrugs again before picking up his drink again, looking at you once he finishes it. “So are you having the welcome party this weekend? Do you think I’d be able to join for a beer or two?” He speaks again, Monica’s head turning to look at you with questioning eyes. 

“Um.. what welcome party and why have I not heard of this?” Her eyebrow curves up, making you laugh. 

“I was going to mention it before you interrupted me.” You roll your eyes at them. “But yes, they are having a party to meet us,” You point at Monica and yourself repeatedly before turning to Mingyu. “And it’s tomorrow. I can ask Beomgyu, but I’m sure he won’t mind if you swing by.” 

You smile at your friends who nod before changing the subject. Monica complains about how we officially start classes next week, while Mingyu on the other hand, is sharing the struggles of being an adult and his new corporate job. 

“Enough about me, any tea from your side of the table?” Mingyu asks you, and to be completely honest, there has been only one thing bothering you these last few days. 

“I think I need to get laid, guys.” You say quickly, making both of them giggle as you let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m serious! It’s like my body sees a cute guy and immediately forgets how to act! It’s so annoying!” 

You continue to complain to your friends, who listen to your rant attentively as you let everything out. Well, almost everything.

You end up agreeing with Monica that you will go to more uni events in hopes of meeting a cute guy to hook up with, and hopefully help you with the one small detail you decided to keep to yourself. 

“Oh, Mingyu?” A familiar voice resonates behind you. 

You can feel your body temperature drop when Mingyu smiles, standing up to greet the one person you couldn't stop thinking about. 

“Soobin! Fancy seeing you here!” He says in a fake british accent as he steps to the side of the table and hugs the tall guy. You turn your head to look at Monica in distress, but she stares at you in confusion. 

Who’s the guy?, She mouths. And before you can reply back, your name is called by none other than the man himself. 

Every nerve in your body sparks. A tingling sensation washes over you as he calls you by your name for the first time. 

You take a deep breath mentally before turning, a warm smile appearing on your lips as you look up to him, your heart skipping a beat when you find him already smiling back at you brightly.

“How’s everything going?” He places a hand on your shoulder, his eyes lingering on yours. 

“All good,” you manage to say, “settling in pretty well.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” He replies with a soft nod. You feel extremely nervous not only because of his presence, but because you can feel two pairs of eyes watching you as you try not to malfunction after you confessed your needs to get laid. “I-” 

A phone rings, interrupting Soobin’s train of thought as everyone turns to look to where the noise was coming from.

Your phone. 

“Oh, sorry.” You finally react and pick up the phone, answering it quickly when you see Beomgyu’s name flashing on your screen. “What’s up?”

“I locked myself out,” You can hear the annoyance in his voice, which makes you want to laugh even though you feel bad for him for being in such a situation. 

“Did you lose your key?” You ask now, worried. 

“No. I’m pretty sure I left it on the kitchen counter, ugh this is so annoying!” He grunts. “Are you coming home soon? If not, I can try calling Soobin.” 

“Oh, Soobin is actually next to me.” You say, turning back to him, who is attentively trying to listen to your conversation. “We just ran into each other at the cafe.” You say, now looking at your two confused friends. 

“Did he lock himself out again?” Soobin asks, to which you nod silently. “Classic Gyu.” He laughs before signaling to your phone. 

You offer him the phone and stare at him with curious eyes, amused at how this seems to be a recurrent event. 

“I can be there in 15.” He speaks on the phone, nodding a couple of times before hanging up and giving the phone back to you. “I got it this time, but you should get used to this. It happens all the time.” He rolls his eyes, taking his phone out to type some stuff and then directs his attention back to you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ll go order my coffee and then be on my way.” He turns to look at Mingyu and Monica to whom he bows lightly. “It was nice seeing you guys.” He smiles. He turns around and makes his way to the counter, stealing glances at the table every now and then while in line. 

“Bitch, what was that?” Monica asks deadpan. 

You frown at her question, unsure of what exactly she was referring to, “Huh? What are you talking about?” 

She smirks at you with a teasing expression. “I’m talking about how you almost drooled on the table at the sight of handsome slenderman.” She laughs at her own joke. “Who is the man, and how do you know him?” He turns to Mingyu who gives her a side eye. 

“You don’t know Soobin?” He asks in a sassy tone. “He’s like the smartest guy in the fucking school.” 

“Oh! The guy who’s been promised valedictorian for our graduation since freshman?!” Mingyu nods at Monica's question before both of them continue to small talk. 

You, on the other hand, can't stop facepalming yourself repeatedly. Because of course you couldn’t crush on any other guy.

No. 

You had to crush on a guy who’s known to be the smartest student the school has ever had in 50 years. The guy who, according to all of his friends, is extremely picky and rejected every single girl ever. And the cherry on top of the disaster cake, is that you had to fall for the guy who is number one on your roommates’ prohibited list. 

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

This is a terrible idea, you think to yourself as you finish applying your lipstick in the mirror. 

You check yourself for the tenth time, making sure your outfit is not too much and that it looks nice enough for a casual Saturday date. 

You sit on your bed and tap your feet nervously, the butterflies in your stomach taking over. 

“He should be here any second,” You tell yourself in a whisper, unable to process how you got here in the first place…

-

The welcome party was a success.

The guys bought you your favorite wine, and decorated the living room with cute tiny balloons and a homemade ‘welcome home’ sign. You spent most of the time on the terrace, drinking together as the sun went down. You finally met Huening Kai as well, who seemed to have the same tired-but-cool vibe as Yeonjun. 

Everyone was there: Beomgyu, Yeonjun, Mingyu, Monica, Huening Kai and of course, Soobin. 

At first you couldn’t help feeling extremely nervous, scared of how the guys would feel about Monica, but you immediately relaxed when you noticed how well everyone was getting along. 

You might even dare to say they like her more than they like you, which is a lot. 

You all sat in a circle on the terrace, some of you sitting on the chairs and some on the floor with cushions. The conversations moved smoothly, never having an awkward pause, and everyone laughing at times. You were all talking about the upcoming weekend and how it was our last free one before university officially started. 

“I’m just going to stay in bed until monday to be honest, orientation week wrecked me.” Beomgyu says before taking a sip of his beer. Everyone agreeing with him as they all wanted to relax before starting class.

Well, everyone but Soobin. 

“You guys are so boring!” Soobin exclaims, the red blush of his cheeks getting stronger as he finishes his third beer. “There’s so many fun summer specials, you guys are seriously planning to stay home?” He complains in a pout. 

“Like what, Soobin?” Yeonjun asks, rolling his eyes at the over enthusiasm of his friend. 

“There’s an Italian cultural heritage exhibition happening just a few blocks away from here. Apparently they brought samples of the Roman empire to the exhibit!” He exclaims enthusiastically. 

The silence in the room is loud, everyone turning to look at him with incredulous eyes.  

“Soobin, that sounds like the most boring exhibition ever,” Beomgyu says. “No one is going to go to that shit.” 

“Yeah, like who even likes that type of thing? Apart from you obviously.” Yeonjun asks. 

“Y/n does,” Monica replies, the room turning to look at you while you freeze at the callout. 

“Wait, you do?!” Yeonjun asks mockingly, to which you nod before putting your beer down. 

“I used to go to Italy with my parents every summer.” you explain, “My dad is a history teacher, so…” shrugging your shoulders, you steal a quick glance around the terrace as Yeonjun awe’s in understanding. 

“Wait, really?!” Soobin asks excitedly, making you turn to him with big eyes. 

“Uh yes.” You nod to which he smiles. “It is very fascinating, I’m sure the exhibition will be amazing.” You share his excitement to which he giggles, making your heart do backflips. 

“You should come with me then! Entry is free. You just have to sign in to the guest list!” He exclaims again, everyone’s eyes on you both as you exchange plans. 

“Yes! Sure, I mean. That sounds like fun, I’m down.” You calm yourself as you agree to go with him to the exhibition tomorrow. 

- 

There is a soft knock on your door that snaps you out of last night’s memory. “Soobin is here.” Yeonjun’s voice resonates through the door.

The nerves come back to you as you stand up and take one deep breath before you walk to your bedroom door. 

This is a terrible idea, you think to yourself one more time as you approach the living room, where the tall, handsome and unobtainable man is waiting for you at the end of the hall. 

---------

a/n: Happy readings everyone! Hope you like this new chapter c: Don't forget to, like, reblog and comment, it really helps me a lot! <3

Don't forget to comment below if you want to be added to the taglist!

TAGLIST:

@bangchansbae @a-l-i-y-a @jeonsfizz @yogurttea

[trigunsbbygirl]

If you’re open for requests could I get a part 2 to Nai being isekaid onto Earth? Maybe when he starts to adapt and get used to the concept? Thank you and feel free to ignore if your requests are closed!

I've seen so many drawings of Knives working fast food on twt and its so fucking funny I love it so much. he would evaporate if he worked in my city during tourist season. but anyways, always down to talk about reverse isekai. hope you enjoy it!!

•it doesn't take long for Knives to get used to how things work on Earth. in fact, he finds a few similarities on Earth and Gunsmoke: you go to school, graduate, get a job, pay bills, buy groceries and so on.

•it's the way the corporate world, government and social media works that he has a bit of a harder time understanding? Knives gets it, he understands the concept and how greed consumes but he's still baffled by it all.

•I won't get into much politics or the saddening things that are happening around the world, but every once in a while, when watching the news, Knives will turn to you and just say 'I am considering returning to my old ways.' and you just hum in agreement.

•he also has a hard time adjusting to being around so many people almost all the time now. even though he stays inside your home most of the time he can still hear people talking, cars driving by and airplanes. it takes him a while to get used to all the noise.

•Knives only really goes shopping with you out of curiosity. he wants to see all the things that are on Earth even if he says he doesn't care. (overtime he starts going with you to make sure you're safe and that he can protect you.)

•I think he'd quite like farmers markets though. it may be busy but he can push through it for the fresh food.

•this man has zero online presence. the only account he would ever have is a youtube account if you and Vash (mainly Vash) managed to convince him to make one to post his music. other than that, he refuses to make accounts for Twitter or Instagram. he sees no point in it.

•Knives doesn't use a diary, but he does write what he did that day on the calendar app. his notes are very blunt too, 'went to zoo. interesting animals.' 'went grocery shopping. boring.' 'celebrated their birthday.. was fun.'

•he also doesn't text much and when he does the messages are short and straight to the point. "what do you want for dinner?" "when are you coming back home?" "we are out of x, pick some up on your way home." and he leaves you on read a lot too.

•also uses proper punctuation and dots the ends of his sentences. he rarely uses abbreviations and slang. the first time Knives used lol you acted like it was the biggest thing ever and he just replied 'stop freaking out.' then promptly left you on read.

•now let's say Knives somehow gets an ID, ssn and all that stuff. like the universe said go help pay bills and gifted him those stuff or smth.

•I've been seeing Twitter talk about Knives working at McDonald's in a modern au and yeah that's funny, but this is a reverse isekai and Knives is still dealing with his kill all humans mentality. if he worked customer service or at a restaurant he may genuinely say fuck the military consequences and consider mass genocide after one too many bad encounters. plus Knives would just be like 'why would I serve an inferior being?'

•but I could see him working at a small local book store or library. it's quiet, not too busy and Knives gets to easily learn about new books or books he may never have ended up hearing about. not much really happens, but one day more people than usual come in to buy a certain book. Knives mentions it to you and you have to explain how a Trigun fan account recommended 'This is How You Lose the Time War.' he has to take a second to take the information in.(I'm so sorry I just had to add this in nsvsjwhks- iykyk-)

•he still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that people enjoy Trigun. Knives tries not to think about it a lot, it weirds him out. the fact that a lot of people know about his past, trauma, and apparently, future makes him feel a little queasy and gross. he knows there's nothing he could've done and though no one knows he's actually there, it's still really invasive to him.

•anyways, if Knives learned how to drive, he would be very responsible. the only time he'd break any laws is speeding 10 mph above the speed limit on the highway, but everyone does that so he just joined in.

•whenever someone near him is driving like an asshole he sits there with a death glare. he's there thinking, 'I could ruin your car with my blades. I won't, but I could.' (he wishes he could but he knows many cars have a dashcam and that would cause bigger problems than just legal ones.)

•if it weren't for him living at your place, Knives would have little to no decorations in his home. maybe a few plants and coasters on the tables and books that he likes on a bookshelf, but that's kinda it. he might frame some of his paintings and hang them up. (I can see him with hanging vine plants)

•he gets into gardening a little, maybe hydroponics. Knives doesn't really want a big garden, but he'd like to grow a few vegetables and herbs.

•Knives still doesn't sleep, but over time he will join you for bed and cuddle you as you fall asleep. though after a while, Knives will get out of bed to do his own things. it takes a while for him to get into the idea of just sleeping, but he starts to indulge himself as he realizes how comforting it is to lay with you and rest.

•he starts to surprise you with romantic dinners, like he'll have candles lit up, a slow melody playing in the background. afterwards Knives will draw a bath for you and if you want him to, he'd gladly join you. either way, he's helping you wash up, telling you to just rest after the day you've had. it's the least he could since he can't work.

•overall he does end up adjusting quite well, it just takes him a long time to accept that he does have to live among humans and that the goal he's been working towards for years is practically undoable now. and it takes even longer to start indulging himself in other hobbies and his emotions that start to grow. (although I think his view on humans won't exactly change. but he acknowledges that there are people who are fighting for the greater good.)

[marvelmusing]

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 1

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

A/N: Not sure if many people want this but I like the idea of working for the TVA & Mobius is kinda funny and charming. I really hope I don’t start to regret this once the rest of Loki comes out

Whilst all the desks at the TVA were practically identical in the impersonal corporate sense, Mobius’s desk was a lot nicer than yours. Having been at the TVA for longer than you, he’d gotten everything sorted into a comfortable space, whereas your desk was scattered with papers and mugs you’d always forgotten about. There’s a incessant knocking against wood nearby. Your head perks up from where you’ve been sorting through files on the floor beside Mobius’s chair. You spot Ravi, a fellow assistant, leaning over the top of the cubicle.

“Hey [Y/N].”

“Hi Ravi.” You reply, returning to your sorting.

“Where’s Mobius?”

“Erm, France, 1549.”

“There’s been a development in the Loki Variant case.” You nod,

“That’s why he’s in France.”

“This is a new development.” He hands a file to you, and you skim over it quickly. Laufeyson. Variant L1130, AKA Loki Laufeyson, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. You look up at him.

“Thanks, Ravi.” He smiles at you,

“No problem.” You stand up from the floor quickly. You pass through the TVA corridor’s before opening a Timedoor. You step into it, emerging in 16th Century France. Mobius is stood nearby, he looks up at you in surprise.

“Mobius. You might want to take a look at this.” You hand him the file. He looks over the front page, before nodding.

“Thank you, [Y/N].” He says, stepping forward, and placing a hand on your arm. “Let’s go, we need to hurry.” You both pass through the Timedoor.

You both rush through the corridors of the TVA. You skid to a stop at the reception desk, a smile brightening your face when you recognise the receptionist.

“Hey Casey!” He looks up at you in surprise.

“[Y/N], hi!”

“We’re in a bit of a rush. Has there been a variant brought in? Tall, dark hair, most likely carrying a sparkly, blue cube?” Casey picks up the Tesseract from a drawer beside him.

“This?”

“Yes! Where is he?”

“They just took him into the courtroom.” You both set off running, and you call out,

“Thank you, Casey!”

You open the door to the courtroom, and Mobius hurries inside, taking tentative steps so as to not draw attention to the the two of you. You follow closely behind him. He slides onto a bench, with you taking the seat beside him. You’re knees bump together slightly, but he pays it no mind as his focus remains on Renslayer.

“We're not here to talk about the Avengers.” She says, looking down at Loki.

“Oh, no?” He asks her.

“No.”

“What they did was supposed to happen. You escaping was not.” Loki laughs at this,

“Right. Not supposed to happen? According to whom?”

“The Time-Keepers?” She offers.

“Oh, the Time-Keepers. Right.” He scoffs. “Well, perhaps I should speak to these Time-Keepers, gods to gods.”

“I'm sorry, but they're quite busy.”

“Oh, they are? What are they doing?”

“Dictating the proper flow of time.”

“I see. Right. And then what do you do?”

“Dictate the proper flow of time according to their dictations. How do you plead?” You watch Loki as he smirks, holding his hands out.

“Guilty, of this.” He grasps his fists a few times, confusion clear in his actions.

“What’s going on?” Renslayer asks, looking for side to side.

“Hang on. Everyone quiet.” Loki reasons. Hunter B-15 laughs,

“He's trying to use his powers, ma'am.” He slams his hands down on the podium in front of him,

“Damn it! Why won’t it work?”

“Magic powers? They're no good in the TVA, Mr Laufeyson.” Renslayer tells him. “The court finds you guilty, and I sentence you to be reset. Next case, please!” She calls out, as is there’s a colossal queue waiting.

“Reset? What does that mean? What, is it bad? What does it mean? You ridiculous bureaucrats will not dictate how my story ends!” Loki exclaims hurriedly, as the Hunters surrounding him begin to drag him away.

“It's not your story, Mr Laufeyson. It never was.” She tells him in a bored tone, a little harshly you think.

“You have no idea what I'm capable of!”

“I think I might.” Mobius stands quickly, making his way past you. “Have an idea of what he's capable of.” He adds. Renslayer considers him for a moment,

“Approach the bench.” He steps forward, and you hear him offer a soft,

“Hi.”

“If you're thinking what I think you are, it's a bad idea.” She hisses.

“Okay, I'm just chasing a hunch.”

“Anything goes sideways, it's on you.”

“Okay. I feel like I'm always looking up to you. I like it. It's appropriate.” You roll your eyes at him, as you stand and take your place beside him. Loki continues to struggle against the hunters. He looks Mobius up and down.

“And who are you?”

“I’m going to burn this place to the ground.” You hear Loki growl.

“I'll show you where my desk is, you can start there.” Mobius remarks, and you can’t help but smirk. He glances at you, sending you a winking once your eyes meet. You roll your eyes at him again. Loki slows his walk, looking across the railing out into the TVA. You and Mobius stop to look at him.

“Have a look.” Mobius tells him, gesturing towards the view. Loki approaches the railing, staring out at the city in front of you.

“I thought there was no magic here.” Loki asks, a frown of confusion on his face.

“There isn't.” Mobius replies.

“That's not real.” Loki decides.

“It is, and, unfortunately, so is all the paperwork. Good tinder for your fire, though. Come on.”

“This place is a nightmare.”

“That's another department. Now that department I'll help you burn down.” You shake your head at him, smiling. The three of you step into the elevator. You stand on one side of Mobius, with Loki on the other. You press the button for the appropriate department. The faint tune of elevator music fills the temporary silence, before Mobius turns to Loki,

“I’m Agent Mobius, by the way.” He holds his hand out for Loki to shake. Loki looks down at his hand, with no plan to shake it at all. “This is my associate, Agent [Y/N].” You offer him a small smile with a nod, as his eyes briefly acknowledge your presence. You’ve always liked how Mobius refers to you as his associate, rather than assistant. Unlike the majority of the TVA. Loki turns his attention back to Mobius,

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?”

“No. That's where you just were. I'm taking you some place to talk.”

“I don't like to talk.” Loki lies.

“But you do like to lie, which you just did.”

“Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie-talkie.”

“How long have you been here?” Mobius sighs,

“I don't know. It's hard to say, time passes differently here in the TVA.” Loki frowns at this,

“What does that mean?”

“You'll catch up.” The elevator door opens and the three of you step out. You remain close to Mobius’s side, with Loki trailing behind.

“So, you're part of the TVA's courageous and dedicated workforce?”

“Yes.”

“You were created by the Time-Keepers.”

“Yep.”

“To protect the Sacred Timeline.” You hear the mocking tone in his voice. He’s not believing a word of this.

“Correct.” Loki laughs.

“Is that funny?” Mobius asks him, as he heads down the steps towards the door. You both look back at Loki as he exclaims,

“The idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd.” Mobius considers him for a moment before saying,

“I thought you didn't like to talk.” He opens the door, gesturing to Loki. “After you.” Loki passes you and walks into the room.

“I’ll wait until you’re done.” You say, meeting Mobius’s gaze.

“You don’t have to.” He insists.

“I’ll wait.” You’ve caught Loki’s attention, his head turning to examine you after hearing your voice for the first time. You watch as Mobius walks into the room, and you close the door behind him.

You’re not stood for long before Hunter B-15 approaches. She attempts to brush past you. You hold your arm out,

“Mobius is in the middle of an interrogation.” You protest. “You can’t just interrupt.”

“Stand aside, Variant.” You clench your jaw, a prickle of fear in your chest as she pushes the door open.

“What are you doing?” She calls out to Mobius.

“My job. Is it yours to interrupt?” He replies. His eyes fall on you as you give him an apologetic look. He shrugs lightly in response.

“We have a situation.” She tells him. He sighs,

“There's always a situation.” He turns to Loki,

“Don't go anywhere. It was just getting good. Spirited.”

You hover by the door, as Mobius and B-15 head further along the corridor to talk. You hear the two of them bickering momentarily before Mobius returns.

“We’ve lost another unit.” He tells you. You sigh,

“Are we going to wrap this up then?” You ask, he nods as you open the door. He steps inside and you follow him as he calls out,

“Okay, Loki, I think we can finish up tomorrow and just pick it...” He trails off, and you look around for Loki. The room’s empty. You watch Mobius slip his hand into his pocket, before leaning his head back with a sigh, “Mischievous scamp.” You both rush outside, Mobius calling B-15 back.

“Wish I could say I was surprised.” She retorts.

“Yeah, I wish you hadn't interrupted us.” Mobius adds, annoyance lacing this tone. The two of you jog alongside the Hunters she’s gathered.

“Me? It's my fault?” She exclaims.

“He can't have gotten very far.” You reason, attempting to prevent an argument.

“Split up. Prune on sight.” She orders.

“No, no pruning, no resetting. He can still help us!” Mobius argues. Your group splits up. You wander through the corridors for awhile before deciding to return to the projection room. Once Loki realised he can’t get far he might decide to hide in there. Turns out, you’re right. Loki is perched on the steps at one side of the room. You glance as the projector, the bold ‘End of File’ standing out from the screen. He holds the Tesseract in one hand, the blue glow casting a shadow across his face.

“I’m guessing you know that won’t work here.” You say, keeping a safe distance between the two of you. He nods,

“Not through a lack of trying.” You sit down on the steps, glancing at him for a moment before staring at the wall.

“Did he give you the: your only purpose is a side character to develop other people on their path to greatness, speech?” He looks up at you sharply. You meet his gaze, “I suppose that’s a yes.” He nods. You sigh, “I know it sucks, but I have to admit it does put things in perspective.”

“Perspective?” You nod,

“That the only reason why you did the things you’ve done, is because it was meant to happen. Because the all knowing space lizards decided it. But you’re out of the timeline now, Loki. You can do whatever you want.” You watch as he considers your words. “That’s not me giving you the okay to kill me. Or Mobius, don’t kill him. Anyone else, I’m not too fussed.” You joke. A small smile flits across his face. “I’m going to call Mobius now, he’s the better option over B-15.” Loki nods, and you retreat outside the room. You pull out your phone and dial for Mobius,

“Mobius, I’ve found him. He’s back at the projection room.”

“Do not approach him, [Y/N]. Do you hear me? I’m on my way now.” You agree, and wait outside the door. Mobius rushes down the corridor, grasping hold of you. “Are you okay?” You nod,

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He pauses, checking you over for a moment, before nodding and opening the door to reveal Loki. You wait outside as they presumably have a heart to heart. It’s not long before Mobius is back by your side, with Loki in tow.

“Say hello to our newest team member.”

If you’d like to be tagged for this series just let me know!

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Two)

Summary: you thought it was enough, you thought it was what it deserved, but it wasn’t. it never was. (one of three four parts)

Pairings: Rafael Barba x Reader, Sonny Carisi x Reader

Word Count: 5,395

Song: I made you my temple, my mural, my sky / Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life (tolerate it by taylor swift)

Warnings: T, implications of sex, so much angst, some swearing, 

A/N: again thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera​ and @qvid-pro-qvo​ but also @laneygthememequeen​ for giving me feedback and listening to me ramble as i continue to write this series. thank all of you for all of your wonderful comments/reblogs - every one gave me the motivation to keep writing! Also i made these timecards to account for the passage of time since we will be jumping through years quite a bit. 

“Why did we agree to  letting him shadow us again?” Rafael whispers to you, glancing at Sonny working at the conference table — his irritation evident, “it doesn’t give us a lot of time alone.” 

“Well, he’s a law student and a new detective, I’m trying to show him the ropes, and who's the one who got home late last night? Besides, he said he’d buy us coffee to thank us,” you lean away from him, nudging him, mouthing ‘be nice,’ “have you taken Criminal Procedure yet? Or Evidence?” 

“I’m taking Evidence right now, but this is nothing like learning about it in class,” he was flipping helping you root through the discovery that the defense had buried you in — a typical Buchanan maneuver, “Did you always think you would be a prosecutor?” 

You snort, “No,” and Rafael even looks up from his work, and you shake your head, “Well I thought I would go corporate at first, make some money to support myself, invest properly and then retire, but a year into doing that, I hated it. I ended up leaving without barely making a dent in my student loans.” 

“Ouch,” Sonny shook his head, “and you came here? Do you regret it?” 

“I’d be interested to hear the answer to this,” Rafael leans forward, resting his chin on his fist. 

You scoff at him, considering it — did you regret it? “I don’t,” you say, “although I’d be way less in debt, I wouldn’t be happy — I wouldn’t be helping victims, I wouldn’t be getting justice, and I wouldn’t be working with you two — “ Rafael’s gaze softens, “and here, I’m happy,” and you catch Rafael smiling at his desk, before adding, “except when Barba doesn’t get his coffee.” 

Sonny guffaws, trying and failing to hide it with a cough, “You want to get us some coffee, Fordham or are you too busy pulling a muscle from laughing?” 

“Alright, alright,” he holds his hands up in surrender, grabbing his jacket, before leaving, the office door swinging shut behind him. 

“Would it kill you to be a little nicer to him?” Rafael shrugs, rising from his desk, and wrapping his arms around you, “Raf—” 

“Better him than me, right?” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “I liked it better when he had the mustache.” 

You laugh, shaking your head, as he sighs against the crook of your neck, “Just be nicer to him okay? He’s really trying here, and he’s a good detective.” 

“What’s with the sudden interest in Fordham?” 

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “His name is Sonny, and he’s sweet — I’m trying to help him out, and you should too. He looks up to you.” 

“Lucky me,” you press a kiss to his lips, “it’s not fair when you do that—” 

You kiss him again, your tongue tasting him, his mouth following yours as you slipped away back into your seat, “Be nice.” 

“As long as you’re nice to me tonight,” he replies, just before Carisi returns, coffees in hand. 

“I hope the shadowing has been helpful, I know Rafael can be an ass��” you shrugged your jacket off, slinging it over your arm, walking beside Sonny, the detective insisting on walking you home. 

“Well he wouldn’t be Barba otherwise, would he?” and you snort, glancing at your phone to see a text from him — working, will be late. Your place? 

“Well you’re right about that,” you tucked your phone away, seeing Sonny run his fingers over his chin and mouth, “missing the stache?” 

“Not really, no, but Rollins made a remark that I looked better with it,” he bites his lips, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “what do you think?” 

You purse your lips in mock thought, holding your chin,  “No, I think I prefer this look,” you laughed, “You look good.” 

“Oh I look good? Really?” and he raises his eyebrows suggestively, and you bump him with your shoulder, “come on, counselor, you can’t play coy.” 

You step in front of him, “Oh yeah, definitely — you’re a real heart stealer,”Before turning on your heel and continuing to stroll, “do you want to grab a drink?” and you didn’t catch the way he was looking at you as you walked away from him — his eyes shining in the low light of the streetlights. 

“Yeah, I’d love to.” 

“We know this guy is guilty,” Amanda told you two, her arms crossed, “but we can’t get past his troop of lawyers to get anywhere close to his employees.” 

Liv leans back in her chair, “So, why don’t you two do your job and get this guy on charges for us?” 

You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face, “You don’t know that for sure, Liv, and even if you did — it goes against the justice system to just entrap people without a fair process first. We can’t do our jobs, until you guys do yours—” 

“We can’t get more evidence until he’s indicted — he’s too smart, he won’t expect it, he’ll get sloppy,” Liv looks at Barba for support, and as do you, lips a thin line, and he sighs. 

“We’ll get a grand jury together, we’ll send out subpoenas, and see where we are at—” 

You gape at him, “Rafael—” 

“I don’t know counselor, this could be risky—” Carisi steps forward, brow furrowed, “Lieu, she has a point — we take this now, we wouldn’t get another shot at him.” 

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Rafael waved him off, “book him, now.” 

Liv and Amanda left, while Sonny hung around his desk, as you pulled Rafael aside, “Rafael, you literally went over my head—” 

His eyes narrowed, “We need to build a case—” 

You scoffed, “SVU builds the case, we prosecute it — we’re not in the business of using indictments to get our evidence,” you looked around the precinct, eyes flitted away, and you pulled him into Liv’s office, shutting the door, “you undermined me, my opinion—” 

He says your name, “You know I value your opinion but—” 

“Not as much as Liv’s,” and it’s his turn to gape at you, “you know this case doesn't have enough — and you’re pushing it through anyway—” 

“SVU cases are not open and shut—” 

“No case is open and shut— otherwise, we wouldn’t have so many innocent people die of the death penalty would we?” you grit your teeth, “you handle this case — if you want to take a half-baked case to a grand jury I won’t stop you, but I won’t be cleaning up your messes either.” 

He calls after you, but you leave without another word, stepping into the elevator, the doors shutting until a hand stops them — but it isn’t Rafael, “Counselor,” he steps in after you, hitting the ground floor button — the doors shutting, “are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” his eyes fell on your fisted phone, knuckles white. 

“Your phone would beg to disagree — you’re aboutta crack the screen with your grip,” and your cheeks burn, slipping the phone into your pocket, “you know Lieu has a tendency to become a little blinded when it comes to the victims, she—” 

“I know, Sonny, and most of the time I find that admirable about Liv, but it’s our jobs as prosecutors to bring justice — and that’s not just for the victims, but it’s for society,” your eyes look the ceiling, blinking away hot tears of frustration, “pushing through cases like this isn’t justice — it’s reckless,” the elevator doors ding open, and you slip through, expecting to be alone, but Sonny still follows out the doors of the precinct. 

“I get it,” you huff, slowing to a stop, “I do, really. I may be a cop, but I want to be a lawyer too, and to be one, you gotta see both sides, don’t you? But what do you do when things are gray?” 

“You search for the truth,” 

His lips twisted in a frown, he asks, “and if you can’t find it?” 

“Then you look for the closest thing to it, but this, a fishing expedition—” you shake your head, “this isn’t it.” 

He nods, jerking his head, “Come on, let’s grab a coffee,” 

“I should get—” 

He smiles, “I’m sure Barba won’t mind the extra time to lick his wounds, you really chewed him out,” 

You raised an eyebrow, “How much of our conversation did you hear?” 

“Not much after you went into the office, but it was still obviously heated,” you feel anger sting at your eyes, the heat rising in your body, and instead of fury — it came in tears, how convenient, “but for what it’s worth, I value your opinion a lot, counselor. And I know Barba does too,” he adds, and you follow as he leads you away from the precinct, “he’s just not showing it well.” 

You glanced at your phone — Going back to the office, can we talk? — “No,” you reply, “No he isn’t.” 

But did he ever? 

“Where’d you learn to cook anyway?” your legs were slung over Rafael’s lap one Sunday morning, as he fed you another forkful of the huevos rancheros he had made,  “I thought you lived off coffee and Forlini’s.” 

“Ha, ha,” he kissed you, licking the bit of sauce left on your lips, “well consider it my way of making up for what happened with the case. I am sorry about that, you know that right?” 

“I do,” you open your mouth and he feeds you another bite, “but don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging the question, Barba.” 

He purses his lips, “How about we just say I learned for you and leave at that?” 

You frowned, “Raf,” he fell silent, the gears in his head turning, “you don’t have to talk about it, but you don’t have to lie either.” 

He starts softly, even as he stabs the eggs with his fork, “When my dad went off on one of his tirades, Mami wasn’t in any shape to cook, and she wouldn’t want to ask Abuelita since that would involve telling her what happened — so I would cook for us.” 

You lean over, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, “You never talk about your father,” 

“What’s there to talk about?” he replies quietly, “he married my mom — he was amazing at first, and then just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “he changed. When they got married, he had permission to be the person he always was — angry, disgusting, abusive. He made her cut off everyone out of her life, made her miserable, abused her, abused me—” he cut off, setting the fork down with a clatter, “but still, I see him every day when I look in the mirror — and I wonder if I’m any better than him at all.” 

“Rafael, look at me,” you slide closer to him, your fingers intertwined with his, when you tilt his chin up, “you are not your father — far from it. You help victims get justice, you help them tell their stories, you are a good man, one of the best men I know.” 

He sniffs, a small smile on his lips, “Even when I don’t get my coffee?” 

You roll your eyes, shifting again so your knees are either side of his lap, sitting properly on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Even then — Raf, you are so good, I just wish you’d see it — I wish you’d see yourself.” 

He leans up to kiss you, gently, “Maybe I can see myself through you,” he murmurs against your lips, pressing his forehead to yours, and you sit in silence for a moment — in peace, before he finally breaks it, “I think it’s because of him that I’m so scared of us — I don’t want to be him.” 

“You could never be him—”  

“But you don’t know that,” he replies, his gaze falling to his lap, dark, as he shifts you softly off of him, “not really.” 

“Rafael—” he rises from the sofa, his back turned away from you, as he heads to the bathroom. 

“I need to shower.” And he leaves you there, without another word. 

“Working late again?” Sonny poked his head into his office, “it’s 2 AM counselor, isn’t anyone expecting you home?” 

You don’t look up from your work, “I could ask you the same — what are you doing here?” Sonny lifted his scarf off your bookshelf, folded neatly on top of some stacked books and briefs. 

“I just finished my shift at the precinct, and thought I’d drop by and see about picking this up,” he glanced at Rafael’s office, light closed, “No Barba?” 

“No, he headed home for the night,” more like you had insisted on him getting some sleep tonight, plying him with sweet kisses, until finally he left — but now you were left with the work to take care of, “I’m wrapping up some work,” you yawn, stretching, blinking at the detective still standing in your doorway, “aren’t you heading home?” 

“Yeah, I’m just waiting on you — the cases will be there in the mornin’,” he steps forward, offering you your coat, “come on.” 

You pout, “But I didn’t get what I said—” 

“Is it something that can be done tomorrow?” 

“Yes, but—” he shuts off your desk lamp, holding your coat out again. 

“I’ll walk you home,” and you sigh, looking between your work and his hand, before hauling yourself to your feet. 

It was not another ten minutes when your stomach started growling, to which Sonny raised an eyebrow, “Like to share something with the class?” 

Your cheeks burned, as you bite your bottom lip, “I may have forgotten to eat today,” and Sonny shook his head. 

“You don’t sleep, you don’t eat — do you and Barba just run on coffee?” 

“And spite,” you add with a shrug, “how do you get time to eat? You’re constantly running around all over the place.” 

“You have to make the time, whether that’s me eating in my car or taking a half hour to go grab a slice, maybe next time I’ll invite you along,” his hands slipped into his pockets. 

“I’d love to right now, but I am a little sick of takeout, and I think I rather crash at this point,” you rubbed at your eyes, “food can wait until tomorrow.” 

“You need to eat, counselor, or your stomach won’t let you,” his brow wrinkled in thought, “do you have anything at home?” 

“Nothing prepared, I have some things frozen, but nothing that’s ready—” 

“I’ll cook you something, dinner—” he glanced at his watch, “I think it's closer to breakfast at this point.” 

“Sonny, you don’t need to do that—” 

“I want to — to thank you for letting me shadow you and Barba,” his smile is so warm, “I assume he wasn’t too pleased with the idea at first.” 

“You don’t need to thank me — it’s fine—” you started, but he cut you off. 

“Are you hungry?” you pouted, as your stomach growled again, “Strike that, you are, and do you have the energy to cook?” 

“No, but—” 

“No buts, come on,” he clapped his hands together, you stood, biting your lip, “are you not okay with this?” 

“It’s not you, Sonny—” it was the concept of this — having a man over late at night, and you trusted Sonny, you did — he was your friend, but it felt misleading, “I just want you to know I’m seeing someone, kind of.” 

He raised an eyebrow, “Kind of?” 

“It’s not a relationship, but it kind of is — we’re keeping things casual for now,” you licked your dry lips, but your throat was a desert compared to it, “I just don’t want to mislead—” 

He cut you off, saying with your name, “It’s fine,” he offered a small smile, “I get it. Consider me friendzoned — now are you hungry or not?” 

“I am.” you hurried along in front of him, shivering in the cold, not noticing his smile slip from his face. 

“How did you learn to cook?” You were told to sit at your island, watching Sonny root through your fridge, “also, I’m sorry again for the state of my fridge, I’m not home a lot so—” 

“Trust me, I get it,” he pulls eggs, cheese, and a can of tomatoes from the fridge, “and I learned from my mother — she had her handful with my sisters, so sometimes I would cook with her or for her. I got used to it and I liked it.”

“Am I allowed to help or do I just watch?” he crossed his arms, evaluating you, making you sit up a bit straighter. 

“Have you ever poached eggs before?” your expression was enough of an answer, “how about you leave the heavy lifting to me and just do what I tell you.” 

“Yes sir,” and you missed him smiling at your cheeky reply, “What’s first?” 

“We both have the same weekday off?” you drop your purse and jacket on his chair, as he pulls you into his arms, “has that ever happened before?” 

“Not in what? Three years of working together?” he trails kisses down your neck, tugging at your collar, “we can’t waste it.” 

“What are you implying, counselor?” you say in mock surprise, as he walked you backwards, pressing you to the nearest wall. 

His eyes lidded and dark, as his fingers toyed with the buttons on your button up, “I’m implying that I want to spend the day f—” 

There was a knock on the door — both of your heads snapping over. You whispered, “were you expecting anyone?” 

“No?” he whispered back, “it might be someone from the squad, wait in the bedroom—” 

You rolled your eyes, as he strode over to the door, straightening his clothes, and adjusting himself noticeably, to which you snorted — earning you a sharp look over his shoulder,  before you slipped into the bedroom, door shut. 

You heard a woman’s voice speaking, heels clicking against the floor. You pressed your ear to the door, but there was no need because the voices grew louder,  “The bedroom is a mess, Mami,” 

Shit. 

There was nowhere to hide in here — but you didn’t want to come off looking rude either — you spotted Rafael’s headphones and a book on his bed stand. 

Well, oblivious is better than idiotic. 

You adjusted your clothes, sitting on the bed, playing music on your phone loudly, flipping the book open to a random page, just as the door opened, “Now, what could be so bad that you don’t want your own mother to—” She cut off, when she saw you, and you peered up, mouth agape — in fake (and real) astonishment, “well hello.” 

“Hi,” you slipped the headphones to your neck, before pulling them off, setting the book side, as you looked from a bewildered Rafael to his appraising mother, “you must be Rafael’s mother, Lucia,” you introduce yourself, holding out your hand, “I work with your son at his office.” 

She repeats your name, elbowing her son, “This is who you’re always talking about?” 

“Excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow at a flustered Rafael, the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose a beautiful red. 

“Mami, I think I neglected to tell you that—” 

“That you and your gorgeous co-worker here are seeing each other? It would seem so,” she slaps him lightly with her purse, before talking your hand warmly, “it’s very nice to meet you, dear. I apologize for my son’s lack of disclosure—” another pointed look at her son, “I wouldn’t have interrupted your day off together otherwise—imagine if I used the key you gave me.” 

Rafael blanched at the thought, his eyes desperately trying to apologize to you, but you kept your eyes on Lucia, “There’s no need to apologize, I’m sorry for surprising you—” you smiled, your nerves pushed to the very edge — imagine if she had walked a few minutes later, “is there something you need from Rafael?” 

“Not in particular, I was going to ask him if he wanted to join me for lunch— I just cooked his favorite, but now that I see he’s busy—” 

“No, you both should go,” you wave her off, “I don’t want to step on any plans—” 

“Why don’t you join us?” Lucia offered, elbowing her son, “if that’s okay with el juez here?” 

“Of course,” he cleared his throat, his smile sincere, “join us, if you want to.” 

Well how could you say no to that? 

“This is delicious, Lucia,” you and Rafael helped her pick up the table, insisting on her sitting, “thank you again for having me over. It means so much.” 

“I was happy to — my son’s personal life has always been a bit of mystery to me,” she walks over, pinching his cheek, “mijo has a mouth he doesn’t mind running except when it involves his personal life.” 

“Mami,” he warned, and she lifted her hands in surrender. 

“On that note, I’m going to wash up, and I’ll be right back,” you excused yourself to the bathroom, washing your hands, and just as you began to step out, you heard them whispering. 

“So what’s the story here, Rafi? You’ve been together for quite a while — any chance you’ll be popping the question anytime soon?” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage, leaping out of your chest, “It’s not like that between us, Mami — we’re together but—” and your heart sunk in the same motion — down to the floor, “we’re not serious—” small smack and Rafael’s ‘ouch.’ 

“Do not be such an idiot that a keeper will wait for you this long — it’s a miracle you’ve been together this long,” you hear her sigh, “not serious? The way you look at each other? Rafi, not every person is Yelina—” 

“This isn’t about her,” he cuts her off, exasperated, as you rest your forehead against the trim of the bathroom door, “I know what I’m doing.” 

“You know what you’re doing,” she repeats, the clink of the dishes in the sink, “I hope you do, mijo, or you’ll regret it.” 

Regret, you thought, squeezing your eyes shut — you knew a little something about that, as you slipped from Lucia’s apartment, the door shutting behind you. 

There was urgent knocking on your door — and you placed your book down. Well, this was inevitable. 

You had been avoiding Rafael since the lunch with his mother — taking shifts and working out of your office. He had been texting and calling — you hadn’t been replying — the temptation regulated to the charger in the kitchen. He wanted to explain, he wanted to talk — but he always wanted to explain, he always wanted to talk. And he always talked his way back into your pants with plying words and sweet kisses. 

But now there was nothing more to be said. He left nothing else to be said. 

Even so, it wasn’t his fault entirely  — it was your fault for letting this get so far. 

And why had you let it get so far? That was the one question you couldn’t answer yourself. 

And now, you steeled yourself as you approached the door — you supposed he wanted to have it out in person. 

“Who is it?” you asked, arms crossed. 

“It’s Sonny,” you blinked, his voice unsteady and weak, as you threw open the door, finding him grim faced and dull, the color pulled from his face. 

“Sonny, what happened—” 

“Can I, uh, come in?” you stepped aside, letting him in, shutting the door behind you, and he didn’t sit down — or rather he couldn’t. He paced the length of the room, his eyes on the ground, arms across his chest. 

“Sonny?” you ask hesitantly, as you approach him, his back turned, “what’s wrong?” He faces you, tears streaming down his face, “Sonny—” 

“I’m sorry,” he blinks, wiping away the tears, “I’m fine, I shouldn’t’ve come here, I just—” his voice breaks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, “I didn’t know where to go.” 

“Sonny, stop, you can always come here,” you squeezes his shoulder gently, “sit down, please.” You lead him to the couch, spotting red specks of blood on his neck and on the collar of his shirt, “what happened?” and he tenses, “we don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?” he buries his face in his hands, elbows on his knees, hunched over, “let me get you some water—” 

“Look, I don’t need water — I just need—” he stammers, “please, just stay beside me, please?” 

And you did, your hand reaching for his, fingers slowly intertwining with his longer ones — even with how gentle Sonny was, with how he dwarfed you in size never failed to surprise you, but then again, he was always full of surprises, wasn’t he? His hand was warm and soft, engulfing with its heat, but trembled under your touch. You squeezed it every few minutes, the ones you sat in silence in, to remind him that you were still there — that he wasn’t alone. And you would never leave him to be alone. 

His first words were quiet in an already still room, “Barba has kept you updated on the Quinn Berris case right?” you nod — the woman who had been raped by her stalker, Ray Wilson. Wilson had been arrested by Sergeant Tom Coles four years ago, “We found out that Quinn wasn’t raped by Ray Wilson — it was Coles.” 

Your jaw dropped, “Coles did it—” 

“We went to his house, to confront him,” his voice shook as he spoke, his eyes hard, fixed on your carpet, but he was somewhere else now — back in Coles’ home, “I moved slowly, I did everything by the book, and I turned around, and he had his gun to my head.” 

“Sonny,” you squeezed his hand again, “what happened?” 

“I thought he was going to kill me,” he swallowed, his eyes unblinking, “I can still feel the metal brushing my forehead, following me as I put my gun down,” he leans back, arms crossed again, “I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything. I could hear myself talking, but I didn’t know what I was saying — it was like everything was underwater. If Liv didn’t shoot him—”  

“But you’re okay, Sonny,” you pulled him closer, arm wrapped around his shoulder, “You’re alive.”

“He didn’t have to die,” he whispers, “he could have just surrendered.” 

“He didn’t want to, Sonny,” you shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks, “he had lost everything, and he wanted to die — and he wanted someone else to go down with him. But you didn’t.”

“You know in the moment, I didn’t even pray,” he gives a bitter chuckle, “years of Catholic schooling and church, but in that moment all I could think of was my family, the squad, you,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry for coming over and unloading this all on you — I didn’t mean—” 

“Don’t apologize,” you brush away your tears, your hands gently pulling him into a hug, “I’m just so glad you’re okay, Sonny.”  

He rested his chin on your shoulder, finally shutting his eyes for a moment, a peace washing over him for a moment, “Me too.” 

“Not a minute is promised, is it?” you whisper, pulling away, and he shakes his head. 

“Not a second,” and your thoughts fall away to your phone — to Rafael. It could have been him today — or any day. Was it worth holding a grudge, if it meant you wouldn’t see him again? That your last words to him were nothing but silence? 

“Let me get some water, Sonny,” and he nodded, leaning back on the couch, as you slipped away, grabbing a glass, as well as your phone. 

Rafael Barba: Mi amor, please, I’m sorry. Can we talk? 

You: I’m busy today, but tomorrow, we’ll talk. 

“We need to talk,” your office door opened — night had long fallen, the chatter and bustle of the office long died away in the darkness, the washed out fluorescent dimmers flickering in the halls — and there was only one person who would be opening your door right now. 

Rafael stood in your doorway, his knuckles white against the doorknob. Rafael’s brows knitted together, his mouth twisted in a scowl. You leaned back in your chair, raising an eyebrow, “not here.” 

“I can’t step away from this—” 

“You can make time for this,” he hisses, eyes narrowed, but you don’t budge, arms crossed, and he shuts your door, locking it, pulling the shutters down, “You went over my head.” 

You weren’t going to deny it, “I did,” you had went to Jack, talked to him about your concerns about the case you two had been handling together, another case slapped together that Rafael was trying to push through to trial — and you finally had enough, “You didn’t give me much of a choice—” 

“There was a choice — you could have talked to me—” you scoffed, flipping your file closed, “what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Rafael, you’re pushing through cases I don’t agree with — cases without enough information, forcing taxpayer dollars to be used on cases that will not succeed, and yes sometimes that’s necessary, sometimes we have bad cases, but sometimes you’re casting a stigma on people who end up being innocent—” 

“And sometimes casting a stigma is all we can do to warn other potential victims—” 

“And sometimes it just ruins someone’s reputation, and our own when we end up with lawsuits for damages,” you cross your arms, rounding your desk, “just because Liv coerces you into pushing through cases—” 

“Is that what this is about? That you’re jealous of Liv?” he snaps, and you laugh — a bitter noise you don't recognize, “I never thought you would ever let our personal problems affect your judgement.” 

“First of all,” your voice was an eerie calm, a deadly frigid cold permeated your words, “this has nothing to do with your personal life — this has to do with protecting the integrity of this office,” and it was his turn to scoff, "and second of all, what is there to be jealous of, Rafael?" you cross your arms, "We fuck — that’s it. Period. That’s all we are to each other. A warm body, nothing more and nothing less. You’re too busy saving the rest of the world to care.” and you wouldn’t allow your voice to crack, even though you could feel yourself crumbling with every word that you spit like venom — poisoning him and you from the inside out, “we're not serious,” you echo his words, a sinking feeling in your gut. 

“That was out of context—” 

“It’s not out of context when I heard the entire conversation, Rafael,” you shake your head, turning away from him, to look out your window — lights dotted the streets, the city very much alive with so many other places to be. 

His reply is quiet, “Is that all I am to you?” 

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh, clutching at your forehead, “no matter how much we talk about it — how much we try to fix it, we can’t. We can’t. Call this a failed experiment, call this nothing, say it never existed, it doesn’t matter. It’s done.” 

“No,” you shake your head, grabbing your jacket, brushing past him when he tries to stop you, his hand brushing your shoulder — and you knew what he would do again — ply you with kisses, whisper sweet lies that covered the bitter truth, patching shreds that fell to pieces—  “no, mi amor—” 

“Don’t call me that,” you whirl around, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes — but you hoped your words stung more, “don’t call me that when you never loved me.” 

And they did. 

He whispers your name, “Please—” 

“I can’t do this,” you shake him off, walking out the door, “not now.”

And maybe not ever. 

[stressy-enby]

The Four Times Katsuki Bakugo Wanted to Kiss Eijiro Kirishima and the One Time he Did

If any of you remember that Kiribaku hate anon from a few weeks ago, I should tell you that the idea for this story was born in the middle of that incident, because I’m petty as hell.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, mentions of panic attacks and self loathing

Masterlist

1

“C’mon!” Kirishima roared, hand outstretched. Without hesitation, Katsuki created a blast under him, propelling him across the sky.

He grabbed Kirishima’s hand, grinning like a maniac. “You idiots!”

Kirishima grinned back.

It was over in an instant. A few more words were exchanged, but Katsuki was on autopilot. He glanced back behind him, watching the villains shrink away until they were unseen. He was out. He was safe. Before he knew it, the groud was under his feet again. He wobbled a little, straightening up. Deku called someone, Todoroki it sounded like as the group merged with Kamino Ward’s massive crowd.

Kirishima dropped Katsuki’s hand, and he felt something odd prickle in his gut. He stared hard at the red-head, who was still smiling like nothing was wrong in the world.

“What the hell are you grinning for?” Katsuki snapped. “You look like a moron.”

“We got you back, I’m happy!” Kirishima exclaimed, his smile turning teasing. “And don’t think I didn’t see you smiling earlier, Bakugo.”

“Tch. I was just glad to be out of there.” Katsuki shook his head. “But I guess seeing your stupid face is better than seeing those villains.” He added after an afterthought.

“Hey, I’ll take it!” Kirishima laughed. The sound was scraggly, as if he hadn’t laughed in days. Katsuki figured there hadn’t been much reason to laugh, but the broken noise still made his head spin.

…What?

He scowled, and looked pointedly at the ground, hoping it would signal the end of the conversation. It didn’t stop him from still thinking about that bright smile. It didn’t stop him from hearing that bittersweet laugh.

Stop that. What the hell is wrong with you?

Katsuki allowed himself a glance back up at Kirishima, who was saying something to Iida. His hands gestured as he spoke, and Katsuki realized that he could still feel his phantom touch in his hand.

No, that’s not a thing. No you can’t. Shut the fuck up. He scolded himself. This was getting absurd.

Though his brain screamed at him to stop, Katsuki still couldn’t bring himself to look away from the boy. Kirishima finally noticed him staring. 

“You’re okay, right? They didn’t hurt you or anything, did they?” He pursed his lips, brow creasing in concern.

“No. I was handling it.”

“If you say so, man. Just glad to have you back.”

Thank you.

The words bubbled in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t find it in himself to say them. His pride wouldn’t let them. Kirishima’s dumb face, written all over in unnecessary worry made it hard for him to say anything.

“Oh,” Iida gasped, hand clasped over his mouth.

Katsuki’s eyes ripped from Kirishima to see what had startled the class rep. On the large TV mounted into one of Kamino’s tall buildings was live footage of the scene he’d just escaped from. The League of Villains were gone, but the Boss Villain in all black still stood there. And there was All Might.

Suddenly Katsuki’s odd feelings became the least of his concern.

. . .

2

Kirishima was late.

Katsuki slammed his hand on his desk, an irritated growl passing his lips. He crossed the room, and banged on the wall connecting their dorms. ��Shitty Hair, hurry your ass up!”

There was a muffled response. Katsuki sighed heavily, shoving his way out of his room to see what the deal was.

“OI! Kirishima! What the hell are you doing in there?” He knocked loudly on his door. “I thought you wanted to do homework together.”

Kirishima’s nervous voice floated through the wooden barrier. “Uh, sorry, Bakugo! Something-uh-”

I can’t deal with this.

With another annoyed noise, Katsuki barged in without any other warning. “You’d better have a good-”

Red. There was red all over the floor. It was mostly in the little bathroom off to the side, but a little of the bright sticky substance had spilled into the main room. Kirishima sat cross-legged on the floor, furiously scrubbing at it with a soggy washcloth. He looked up, not all that surprised to see his friend, and smiled weakly.

“What the fuck?” Katsuki yelled. It had scared him at first, thinking it had been blood. Upon a second look though, he could tell that it was far too thick and too bright to be blood. “What the hell is all that?”

“Hair dye,” Kirishima admitted, his hand connecting with the back of his neck. “I was trying to touch up my roots, but I accidentally knocked over the open bottle, and well…”

“Idiot. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“What? That I dye my hair?”

“No, stupid, I knew that! That you made a mess!”

“Oh! I didn’t wanna bother you.” The boy ran his hand through his hair, which Katsuki noticed was hanging low around his shoulders, like it had been the night he’d come for him in Kamino. “Also, I feel really dumb right now.”

“Don’t.” Katsuki leaned into the bathroom, grabbing another towel. He ran it under the faucet, before crouching down to scrub at the dye himself.

“You- you’re helping?” Kirishima’s red eyes widened, smile pulling at his mouth.

“The faster this gets cleaned up, the faster we do homework.”

The smile pulled wider, until he was wearing the biggest, toothiest grin Katsuki was sure he’d ever seen. “Thanks, Bakugo! I really appreciate it.”

The blond’s face began to feel warmer, so he quickly hung his head, focusing on the mess and hoping his unruly hair would hide his blush. “Whatever. Just be more careful. You could’ve gotten your stupid ass hurt if you slipped in it.”

“It won’t happen again, I promise!”

If Katsuki Bakugo was a braver person, he would’ve leaned right over the pool of sticky hair dye and kissed that idiot right there. The idea sounded more than appealing. He’d been thinking about doing it for weeks, ever since Kamino. 

But for all his bravado, Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t brave enough to do it. Instead, he pressed his towel harder than he needed to into the floor, as if he could wipe away his frustration with himself along with all the hair dye.

. . .

3

“Wait, I can steal a star?” Kirishima realized excitedly.

“Do it.” Katsuki grinned wickedly.

“Oh, don’t you dare, Kirishima.” Kaminari hissed.

“He has the coins, he’s gonna do it!” Sero groaned.

“Oh I’m totally doing it.” Kirishima triumphantly tapped a button on his controller, agreeing to the transaction.

Kaminari and Sero went bananas. It was fantastic. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

He had been skeptical about Mario Party. It looked pretty dumb, if he was being honest, which he most always was. But when Kirishima suggested they play teams, and then gave a very impassioned speech about how to the two of them could do anything, who was Katsuki Bakugo to deny him?

God, I sound like an idiot.

Personal feelings aside though, he was glad he’d caved. Kirishima had been right; they were kicking ass.

Katsuki cackled as Lakitu fished a star away from Peach, Kaminari’s character, and brought it back to Kirishima’s Mario.

“Fuck yeah!” Katsuki cheered as he directed Bowser to the star still on the board.

“And they get another- UGH!” Sero dropped his controller, draping an arm over his eyes. “Oh, this is torture.”

“Five to one. Hell yeah!” Kirishima whooped.

“You haven’t won yet.” Kaminari dramatically pointed a finger at the pair.

“But we’re going to.” Katsuki promised.

“Kaminari, there are two turns left.” Sero pointed out, still sulking. “The only thing that could possibly save us now are the bonus stars, and even then it probably still won’t help much. Not when we’re four stars behind.”

“Ugh, this suuuuucks.” The golden eyed boy groaned, joining his partner in agony.

“You losers have to roll, it’s your turn.” Katsuki thrust Sero’s controller back into his hands.

“Yeah, finish out strong!” Kirishima encouraged, pointing to the screen. “Look, the next star’s close to you, Kaminari, you could probably get it.”

“It won’t save your sorry asses though.”

“Not helping, Bakugo.” Sero deadpanned. “Not helping at all.”

Kirishima chuckled, knocking his knee against Katsuki’s. “I highly doubt he’s trying to.”

The ash-blond smirked at him, leaning back against the couch cushions. He tried to ignore how Kirishima hadn’t moved his knee. He tried to ignore how his own body seemed to be gravitating towards Kirishima’s. Katsuki had been trying to ignore the signs for two months now, but it was becoming more and more obvious what was going on.

Katsuki Bakugo was officially head-over-heels and face-in-the-mud in love with Eijiro Kirishima. The thought was slowly killing him inside, because how could he ever feel the same way? How could charismatic, energetic, “Live without regrets” Kirishima ever love him? 

Depression seeped in as Sero and Kaminari’s turn ended, and he had to mindlessly press the button to roll the dice. 

I’m a fucking idiot.

Still immersed in the game and their imminent loss, Kaminari and Sero didn’t notice Katsuki’s sudden shift in attitude. Kirishima did though. Worry coursed through him as he wondered what was troubling his friend so much to make him look so distant and distraught.

“Bakugo?” He whispered, leaning in to keep his other friends out of it. “You don’t look so good, man.”

“I’m fine.” Katsuki growled though gritted teeth. “Let’s just finish this stupid-ass game already. I’m tired.”

. . . 

4

Katskui’s world warped and twisted. He was standing in front of a swirling black portal, the villain Dabi’s hand wrapped around his neck. He felt panic building in his chest, but before he could process it all, he was jerked backwards. It was as if a string wrapped around his torso had been yanked, hard. Next thing he knew he was watching All Might fight All for One. His stomach lurched. His body felt weightless, and not entirely corporeal. 

This is a dream, Katsuki reminded himself, but that didn’t stop the familiar panic from seizing him like a fist closing tightly around his heart. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything. He silently screamed at himself, cursing his incompetence, his weakness, his uselessness. 

Katsuki sat up so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. He breathed heavily, hands clenching in his hair. He brought his legs to his chest, and lowered his head so his forehead touched his knees. 

“It wasn’t real,” he reminded himself breathlessly. “You weren’t in any danger,”

Then why didn’t you do anything?

The thought was an ugly one, but hardly unfamiliar. It was one that plagued him nearly every time he had a dream like this. If he couldn’t spur himself into action even when he was dreaming, how the hell did he except to get anything done when there was real danger? How did he except himself to be a hero?

If you hadn’t been so damn weak, you never would’ve gotten caught and caused all that trouble!

Katsuki flinched at his mother’s words, still reverberating in his skull months after she’d said them. 

I’m fucking useless.

Temper suddenly flared, he unfolded himself from his fetal position, grabbing the closet thing, which was an electrical alarm clock. Forcefully yanking the clock so the plug was pulled out of the socket, Katsuki hurled it to the floor. It landed with an unsatisfactory dull clunk, which only enflamed his anger more. 

With a guttural growl, he lumbered out of bed, snatching the clock back up. This time, when he lobbed it again, he aimed for the wall next to his bed. With more force behind it, the clock hit the wall with a resounding CRACK. Katsuki watched, still panting as it tumbled onto the bed. He doubted it’d ever work again.

Taking a deep breath, he tossed the clock back to the floor, only there was no anger behind the gesture now. Just bitter resignation. Katsuki crawled back onto the bed, leaning against the wall.

“Bakugo?” A knock sounded just left of his head. “Everything ok? Did you throw something?”

Fuck. He’d woken Kirishima. Katsuki had forgotten about the red-head sleeping just next door. Anger coursed through him again, but this time it was laced with guilt. Idiot.

“It’s nothing,” Katsuki called back through the wall “Go back to sleep.”

Hoping Kirishima would leave it there, but knowing he wouldn’t, Katsuki buried himself in his blanket. Don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over-

Knock knock knock. “Bakugo? Can I come in?”

Goddamnit. 

With an explosive sigh, Katsuki dragged himself back out of bed, stepping on the abandoned alarm clock in the process. “Shit!” He winced, kicking the now useless piece of plastic aside and rubbing his sore foot.

Kirishima knocked again.

“I’m comin’, quit whining.” The blond groaned, opening the door.

“Dude, what happened?” Worry laced Kirishima’s voice. His eyes darted from Katsuki to the room behind him, presumably searching for the source of the sound that’d awoken him.

“Nothing. I had a dream and I got mad.” Katsuki said lamely. “It’s not a big deal. Go back to bed.”

“Did you throw the alarm?” Kirishima ignored him, sidestepping the boy into his room. “Why? What kind of dream did you have?”

“None of your business.”

“Bakugo,”

His voice was soft and coaxing. It was the kind of voice you used when you were trying to get a small child to come out of a hiding spot. It was appropriate, Katsuki certainly felt small in that moment. He felt a dull ache in his chest at the sound of it. He sighed heavily again, sitting on the edge of his bed, walls caving in. “It was about Kamino.”

“Oh,”

Katsuki hung his head, not wanting the boy to see the tears burning the corners of his eyes. He felt the bed dip as Kirishima joined him.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” He said quietly. “None of it. Not the kidnapping, not the fight, not even All Might’s retirement.”

“If I hadn’t gotten caught-”

“None of us couldn’t prevented that. It was a surprise attack, we couldn’t have seen it coming. You were overwhelmed, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Katsuki felt a warm hand cover his knee. He looked up at Kirishima, seeing nothing but warmth.

“I feel weak.” Katsuki admitted.

“Don’t.”

Don’t. It was the same thing he’d told Kirishima when he said he’d felt dumb for spilling his hair dye all those months ago. Though he’d all but forgotten about the exchange, it all rushed back now, like a tidal wave that’d been held back by a dam. 

“Thank you.”

There was more to say than that. More than Katsuki thought he could actually articulate. Those two small words carried more messages than he could ever say.

Kirishima seemed to understand, though. He didn’t ask for elaboration. He simply gave the toothy grin Katsuki had grown to love, patted him on the back, and said “You’re welcome.”

. . .

5

BOOM

Gym Beta rumbled as Katsuki leveled a particularly strong blast against Kirishima, who took the brunt of it unflinchingly.

“Woah, that was a big one!” The red head batted the smoke away, deactivating his quirk. “How’re you not tired? We’ve been at this for an hour!”

“Or course I’m tired, dimwit. I’m human, aren’t I?” Katsuki rolled his eyes, and whipped beads of sweat off his forehead. “I’ve been active so I’m sweating more. That’s what’s making my blasts more powerful.”

“Oh, yeah! That makes sense.” Kirishima chuckled, grabbing his and his the blond’s water bottles. “Man, you sure are lucky, Bakugo.”

“Huh?”

“With your quirk, I mean.” Kirishima explained, tossing the other bottle, which Katsuki caught deftly. “It’s so strong and flashy, and it only gets stronger the longer you use it! You’re gonna be a great hero some day. I just hope I can keep up with you.”

“Not this shit again,” Katsuki groaned, taking a swig from his water. “You’re strong. How many times do we have to have this conversation, Shitty Hair?”

“I know, I know,” Kirishima waved him off, also taking a drink. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate you saying that! It’s just hard to believe, y’know?”

Katsuki was quiet for a minute. It sucked because he did know. His friend’s words hit closer to home than he had probably intended. He knew first hand how difficult it was to change your mind when you’d already convinced yourself of something, no matter how often people told you otherwise. 

Katsuki didn’t say any of this, though. “It’s late. We should head back.” Is what he said instead.

“Right,” Kirishima sighed, disappointment heavy in his voice. His eyes flashed with hurt as he turned his back to pick up his gym bag.

Damnit, say something.

 “Kirishima,” 

He turned back, surprised, but not unpleasantly so. “Yeah?”

“I don’t like it when you look down on yourself. You’re better than that, even if you don’t think so.”

“Woah, where’s this coming from?” There was laughter in his voice.

Katsuki shrugged, scuffing his toe against the cement floor. “I just need you to hear it. Even if you don’t believe it yourself.”

The smile that spread across Kirishima’s face wasn’t the huge shit-eating grin Katsuki had gotten so used to. It was a new one. This one was shy and grateful. This smile came with a small blush, the lightest dusting of pink across the boy’s cheeks. 

Oh fuck. Katsuki felt his own face heat up. 

“Thank you Bakugo. That really means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

Suddenly Katsuki was restless. Here he was, standing in front Eijiro Kirishima, a boy he’d thought about kissing a hell of a lot more than he was willing to admit, and he wasn’t doing a single thing. Suddenly, he felt like he had to do something.

“Hey. You know that thing you say about living without regrets?”

“Oh, yeah? What about it?”

Before he could think too much about it, Katsuki closed the gap between his and Eijiro, and pressed his lips to his.

Eijiro let out a surprised squeak, but didn’t pull back. Instead, his hand found Katsuki’s shoulder, and he pulled his closer. The kiss was awkward, and a little too forceful on the blond’s part. But it was happening. The kiss several months in the making was finally happening, and Katsuki was wondering what the hell had taken him so long?

“How long have you wanted to do that?” Eijio asked with a breathy laugh as they pulled apart.

Katsuki pursed his lips, considering. “I think since Kamino.”

“Since the final exams, for me.”

Katsuki scowled. “You mean I could’ve pulled this shit way earlier?” The red head laughed again, this time it was less breathy. “I guess, yeah. What stopped you?”

“I didn’t think you’d feel the same,” the blond grumbled, crossing his arms. “What a waste.”

“Aw, don’t say that! I was too scared to do it, too!” Eijiro planted both hands firmly on Katsuki’s shoulders, beaming. “But it’s ok! Cause you did it!”

Katsuki chuckled a little, burying his face in Eijiro’s shoulder and wrapping his shaking arms around him. He returned the embrace ten-fold, squeezing Katsuki so tightly he thought he’d pop. He let him, though. 

It felt good to be held. So good, it might’ve even been worth all those wasted months.

“I’m so glad I’ve got you,” Eijiro whispered into Katsuki’s shirt.

Katsuki squeezed tighter. Defiantly worth it.

[hutchhitched]

Don’t Talk To Me

Written by: @hutchhitched

Prompt 76: Modern a/u Katniss is getting over the loss of her sister (you decide how) when she meets Peeta. She’s closed off but he finds a way in. Maybe she works for him? Him for her? Maybe she cries herself to sleep on his bread scented shoulder? (Please yes I need that) [submitted by @endlessnightlock]

Ratings/Warnings: T

A/N: Y’all... It’s finally here. This is story number nine from the nine prompts I claimed for the 2020 @everlarkficexchange and then lost the will to write during the early months of the pandemic. I wasn’t sure I’d get here, but it’s happened. This is not the story I intended to write when I took the prompt, but sometimes the muse takes control, and I simply follow. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays and @endlessnightlock for being supportive of my plot change.

Katniss Everdeen hates people. Well, that’s not exactly true, but she doesn’t exactly like them either. They’re too…human or whatever. Too many acquaintances. The last thing she wants to do is get close to any of them, especially after the events of the past few months. She’s barely holding it together as it is, and introducing people or, even worse, friends could tip her right over the edge. She values her sanity.

 That’s probably why the new, sweet, disgustingly optimistic, overly friendly hire at the coffee shop where Katniss works irritates her so much. He’s just so nauseatingly earnest. It makes her want to punch him in the face.

 “How’s my favorite barista today?” he asks when she joins him behind the counter while still tying her apron. She mumbles noncommittally, but he doesn’t seem at all deterred. “I like that sweater.”

 “Peeta,” she says as she attempts to maintain control of her temper. He looks at her with such eagerness, she wilts under his obvious enthusiasm. “I’m just… It’s not a good day. Can we not?”

 His face falls, and she almost relents. She doesn’t know what it is that’s convinced him she’s someone he needs to befriend, but she simply has no interest. She doesn’t want more entanglements. They hurt too much.

 “Sorry,” he whispers and turns away. She swallows a twinge of guilt for hurting his feelings, but she doesn’t yield. Instead, she pivots to the espresso machine and starts making coffee. They work together silently, their only conversation about drink orders. They move around each other easily with no uncomfortable bumping or banging elbows or shoulders. He’s a good worker, at least, and he knows how to take a hint.

 “See you tomorrow,” Peeta says softly as his shift ends, and she flashes a brief smile. She doesn’t want to be rude, but come on. He doesn’t have to be friends with everybody.

 It continues like that for months, him fruitlessly friendly and her taciturn and distant. He continues to pursue a friendship, never pushing or prodding, simply being there and consistently showing kind. It’s exhausting.

 “How do you manage to stay so sickeningly upbeat?” she asks finally after several days of wanting to scream. He wears her down. She’d tell him to stop, but she’s starting to think she might like his optimism a little bit.

 He pauses for a second to glance at her before returning his attention to slipping sleeves onto the cup he’s holding. He calls out the order and smiles at the customer before answering. “What’s the other option? Being miserable?”

 “Well, I’m pretty good at it.”

 “I don’t think that’s true,” he argues softly. “I think you’ve had a rough time, and you’re grieving and healing. No one begrudges you that.”

 She gapes at him for a few seconds before snapping back to attention. The last thing she needs is to break down in front of everyone. Somehow, she thought he didn’t know anything. It’s disconcerting to realize her grief is on public display when she’s worked so hard to tuck it away. She reels, and he presses his lips together in frustration.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

 “It’s… You’re fine.” She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I’m taking my break.”

 His wounded expression slices through her as she flees.

 ****

 Another couple of weeks pass before Katniss finds herself alone with Peeta again. They’re scheduled to close on a slow night, and everyone else has gone home when he locks the door behind the last customer and she turns off the light and secures the window for the drive through window.

 “Alone at last,” she jokes and is struck by his wry grin.

 “You don’t have to do that.”

 “Lock up? I think I do.”

 He catches her gaze and refuses to let it drop. “Pretend to be happy you’re here with me.”

 “I—”

 “I’m sorry,” he insists. “I thought maybe if I could talk to you and stop being so, you know, wounded that maybe we could take a shot at being friends. I didn’t mean to upset you, Katniss. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

 She doesn’t answer for several beats. He squirms a little and drops his eyes to study twisting hands and twitching feet. She’s going to regret this. She knows she will. Still, there’s something sweet and shy and kind that she yearns for when the rest of the world is so hard and cold. Maybe it’s weakness or something else equally awful she should expunge from her personality, but she can’t let him spiral this way. Maybe it’ll stop hers, too.

 “We could, uh, try that.”

 It comes out garbled and stunted, but the change in his countenance makes her glad she took the step. A thousand emotions flit over his handsome face, but a grin splits his lips so wide that his teeth flash white. She holds up her hands to head him off, but he steadies himself. With eyes twinkling, he chuckles.

 “I saw the fear there for a second. I’ll control myself before I start asking the deep stuff.”

 “The deep stuff?” she asks, still gun-shy.

 “Yeah, like it’s crazy that I’d voluntarily cover a shift for you if you called in sick, but I don’t know your favorite color.”

 “It’s green.”

 “Mine’s orange.”

 “Like those chairs?” she laughs and nods at the overly bright upholstery on the furniture. Apparently someone in corporate thought pumpkin spice wasn’t just their most popular fall drink; it was also where customers could put their butts as they sipped caffeine-laden drinks.

 “Softer,” he answers, his voice a breathy whisper. “Like the sunset.”

 Her eyes drift shut. He’s put a spell on the space with his words, and she wants to stay there for a moment. When he’s not being overeager, Peeta Mellark is charming as hell. Lord, help her.

 “Can I tell you a secret? It’s really important.”

 She tenses, but when she opens her eyes, she finds that he’s moved closer to her and propped his hip against the counter. He looks so young and hopeful there’s no way she can be scared of him.

 “If you must,” she sniffs and smiles to soften her response.

 “Lean in close. It’s a big one.” She does so slowly, and he waits patiently until she’s close enough that he can whisper, “Don’t tell our boss, but I’m a tea guy. Two lumps of sugar. I don’t even like coffee.”

 Her eyes widen for a split second, and then she bursts into laughter. Tears gather in her eyes as she shakes. “That’s not a big one!”

 “Coffee is life, Katniss. A known tea drinker would be cast out among the wolves. I’ll just stay incognito. I’m trusting you with my life here.”

 “And what if I spill it?”

 “Spill the tea?” He winks as she gasps for air. Just as quickly, he wipes his expression from his face and assumes mock sobriety. Somberly, he picks up the broom and starts to sweep. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have one fewer opponent to beat out for employee of the month.”

 The whole idea that Katniss, surly and grumpy as she is, could ever win a customer service award is so preposterous she can’t keep from giggling. By the time the café is clean, she’s a million times lighter. When they head separate ways after locking up, she watches him as he strides down the street. Before he turns the corner, he tosses a look over his shoulder and waves. She doesn’t even have to think about it. She waves back.

 ****

 They become friends, and it upends her life. Katniss isn’t used to having people around. Not since her sister passed away and left her all alone in the world. Katniss had gotten used to being an orphan, but when her sister was killed in a car crash, the loneliness and despair overwhelmed her. With Peeta around, she doesn’t feel quite so isolated anymore.

 They take short walks on shared breaks, and he leans down to pick dandelions from between the sidewalk cracks before handing them to her with a bashful grin. He shields her from overly aggressive customers during busy periods at the café, and, after several weeks, he manages to convince her that spending time together outside of work isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

 “Friends do tend to see each other in social settings,” he teases, and Katniss finally relents.

 They go to movies and basketball games and art exhibits and archery competitions and all sorts of other things she had no idea she’d enjoy until Peeta suggested the activity. Sometimes, they do mundane things like grocery shopping together. She finds she likes trying new things as long as there’s someone with her and they can debrief about what was good and bad afterward. He convinces her to try one of those art classes with BYOB wine and a pre-chosen image to paint, and she gasps when his own creation takes on a life of its own while hers seems like a bad paint with water replica. He teaches her to cook bread and cookies and cinnamon rolls, and she shares her heirloom lamb stew recipe with him. They’re comfortable together. He never pushes, never makes her feel like he needs anything more than simple friendship.

 Until, that is, the anniversary of her sister’s death.

 She should have taken off work. She knows that, but the café is short-handed. Besides, she needs the money. It’s rainy and muggy and awful when she leaves the house, and the subway is packed much more than usual. She’s jostled and pushed and touched inappropriately (although, that was likely unintentional with how closely pressed together the passengers are in the train car), so that by the time she gets to work, she’s irritable, grumpy, and a ten seconds from losing it.

 It’s possible it’s the weather or the alignment of the stars or an almost full-moon or the changing of the seasons. It could be that other people are suffering from trauma and loss and depression, as well. Or it could be that Katniss just has really bad luck.

 “This drink is wrong.”

 The harsh complaint is snapped at her by an unpleasant looking man with white hair and a beard. He looks at her like she’s something rotten on the underside of his shoe when he shoves the cup toward her and sloshes some of the hot liquid on her outstretched hand. She hisses at the burn and immediately turns to the sink to run cold water over her skin before it blisters.

 “Don’t turn your back on me! Fix my coffee.”

 Katniss tenses, her guard up, but she refuses to move. His actions burned her, and she’s following not only methods of self-preservation but also the company’s safe work policies. Injuries are to be treated immediately on the job. She’s doing that.

 He continues yelling, attracting the attention of patrons and staff. Peeta finishes with the order he’s taking and quickly intervenes, coming to her rescue whether she wants him to or not. She’s not sure which is accurate.

 “Can I help you, sir? My name is Peeta, and I’m—”

 The man squints at Peeta and raises a shaking hand toward me. He’s livid, and Peeta takes a half-step back at the fury that’s suddenly directed his way. The situation escalates. It’s not pretty. The police are called, and customers are shaken. That’s nothing compared to the way Katniss quakes inside her own skin. She’s barely holding it together when their manager intercedes.

 “Get her out of here,” Haymitch barks at Peeta before turning to the customer. The coffee cup he’s thrown at her rolls on the floor in a puddle of liquid. The name scrawled on the outside is Snow. It’s ironic. Katniss has always hated winter.

 They make it to the back before she crumbles, and Peeta lets go of her hand to help her sit down on a stack of crates. He settles next to her and pulls her into a loose embrace—tight enough so that she knows he’s there but loose so she doesn’t feel trapped. It’s the perfect way to comfort her. He’s perfect, and she’s a mess.

 The tears flow, and she’s too broken to bother to wipe them away. Shoulders shake and sobs tear from her throat in gulping heaves. At one point, she moans her dead sister’s name. It’s a mournful wail that washes over her and makes her hurt even worse. He pats her back and toys with the tip of her braid. It’s an unlikely source of solace, and it causes her to turn into him and press her face to his shoulder.

 He smells like bread, she realizes in a random flash of clarity. She’s lamenting her sister, but that scent claws at her senses and registers in the olfactory section of her brain. How odd, she thinks before a fresh wave of grief shakes her torso.

 “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry. I’m here. Take as long as you need. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

 She’s not, though. She’s not all right, and she knows he understands that. He’s working with a limited vocabulary as he tries to help her. That’s what people say when they’re faced with a weeping friend. She’s done it herself. His tone of voice and gentle touch more than prove his compassion for her pain.

 She doesn’t know how long they sit there, but it’s long enough that her tears have soaked his shoulder. A sharp cough invades their little bubble, and they both glance up to see Haymitch in the doorway.

 “Clock out,” he orders in that gruff way of his. “We’ve got you both covered. Take her home, boy.” Peeta nods at the nickname without protest. It would be offensive if it meant anything other than their boss can’t remember anyone’s names, although that’s bad enough.

 Peeta hails a cab and gives her address. He escorts her to her door and unlocks it for her before guiding her inside and seating her on the couch. When he moves away, she grabs at his hand and pulls him down next to her. His arms envelop her again, and she presses her face into his neck and allows the tears to streak down her cheeks while she hiccups. She hates being vulnerable, but she trusts him. They’ve grown close over the past few months.

 Finally, she runs dry. Her sobs subside, and her body stills. He doesn’t shift, doesn’t attempt to pull away. Instead, he simply waits and gives her the space for what she needs. It’s a beautiful thing to grieve with someone who allows it to occur instead of hindering the process. She’s not okay. She won’t be for a long time, but she’s survived today. For now, that’s enough.

 “Thank you,” she mumbles against his shoulder. When he doesn’t answer, she glances up at him through wet lashes and finds him looking at her with compassion in his piercing blue eyes. She could fall into them if she’d let herself. When he lifts his hand to brush flyaway wisps of hair from her forehead, she thinks maybe she should.

 Time freezes. There’s a pulse between them that shakes the world. They’re drawn together, and she doesn’t second guess it or pull away from him. Instead, she closes her eyes and meets his mouth with hers. It’s gentle, just a sweet brush of lips, but it tastes like a reawakening, like the snow melting away and the earth coming back to life in spring.

 It’s scary. It’s terrifying. It’s also right. After the events of the past year, she deserves a new beginning.

[all-the-names-are-taken-aaaaa]

Lie Lie Bye

Alya sighed as she looked at the Akuma shelters Tv. She wished she was out there. The footage would be so good for her blog. It was easily the strongest akuma ever. Lila had everyone go to the shelter though. She was worried about her getting out and targeting them. Alya wasn't too worried. They took everything but her clothes and hid them after locking her in that closet. Plus they were pretty sure she kept the pin in her purse so she could not transform. Alya took notice of the fact ladybug had yet to show up. Everyone was getting nervous untill Chloe shreeks "that is Ladybugs kwami" Alya sighs again thinking 'when did that brat get here she was not with the class.' There was a loud bang as the camera shook then fell facing were the reporter ran. The reporter and crew are shown trying to free Marinette from a fallen building. 'Ugh why is it always her. Bet she would not be helping her if she knew what that girl had done.' Alya thinks. The Tv switches to another live stream. The fight is long and hard. Chat manages to defeat the Akuma. Tikki purifies the butterfly befor passing out. Chat stops in front of the reporter "Ladybug is missing possibly hurt. I have to go"

"As many of you saw our fellow reporter trying to free one Marinette Dupain-Cheng rubble earlier today. What you did not see was the brave action taken by this young woman. Marinette was seen assisting many injured people who would most likely have died without first aid befor the incident. Marinette saw a little girl that had been separated from her mother and mother and dived to shield her from the colapsed building. Now to the reporter who found her"

The reporter from earlier in the day stands in front of a hospital. "The brave young woman you saw earlier today is undergoing a life saving surgery. The surgery is the first of it's kind. It is extremely risky. It has been determined that the surgery is the only way Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng will survive. Marinette was injured protecting a young child barierly four years of age. I need a moment -"

The camera switches "Take your time Nadia. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a wonderful, amazing, and kind girl. I speak from personal experience. Everyone here at Tvi has her best wishes in mind. The people she helped are being checked on in the hospital. The child has only scraps and bruises thanks to-" Alya cuts the tv off. Her phone started going crazy.

"Chill guys the cure will fix everything" Alya sends to her panicking freinds.

Chloe responds "Unterly redicoulous. Alya you had a Miraculous. You know they have timers. You should-" Alya does not bother reading the rest of Chloe's text. "Quit trying to make us feel bad for that lieing traitor." Alya sends back. Then her phone goes silent afterwards. Shrugging she goes to bed.

It had been a week and ladybug has not showed back up only her kwami. There had been a hand full of minor akumas. They did minimal damage. Paris thanks luck for that. Two weeks and a temporary ladybug shows up. Chat appears less but on time for every akuma attack. The Akuma class have become outcast because of their behavior around the subject of the hospitalized hero.

Week three

"Are you sure you are ready to return?" Kagami asks handing the earrings to Marinette. "Do I have a choice? We are in the Akuma class after all." Marinette responds while making a jester to Chloe. "Utterly ridiculous they try to stop Mayrue they nearly killed ladybug and countless others." Chloe snaps out. "Once we get Hawkmoth we can bring justice for our bug" Luka states continuing a melody. They had all become permanent heros with new costumes after Marinette was allowed visiters. Now that she is allowed to leave to hospital they decided to meet up at her place. Chat/Adrian was invited but he could not be around Marinette for very long without crying. He had gotten better as she got proper prosthetics but originally any time he saw her mechanical, technological parts he cried. Now though Marinette looked and felt almost completely normal if not for the massive amount of strength on her right side. He did explain why he could not do anything to stop Lila and how much he regretted it. Marinette understood and had forgiven him but he had not forgiven himself. Kagami had to be held back by both Luka and Chloe as to not hunt down Gabriel for having Lila spy on his own sun and the fact Lila was blackmailing Adrian by stating one sentence from her would have him under house arrest was enough to have Marinette seeing red. Though the crying boy snapped both the girls out of it.

Chat running by the bakery yelling Akuma was enough to snap Marinette out of her thoughts. Kagami and Marionette went one way while Chloe and Luka went another. They had learned quickly splitting up in groups offered advantages. However not long after heading out Ryuuko pulls Ladybug down within sight of the akuma but also within sight of Hawkmoth. "Inform the others I will keep him busy." Ladybug explains.

The others quickly take out the Akuma but Hawkmoth is quick to make his move too. He manages to stab ladybug through her right shoulder. Marinette felt the pain as one normally would but as soon as Hawkmoth turned his attention to her teammates she pushes forward ripping off his miraculous. Chat rushes forward knocking Gabriel out with his staff. Queen Bee holds chat back and Luka holds Kagami back. Ladybug falls back just barely able to cast the cure befor passing out. Adrian collects all the things related to the miraculous and turns them in. The team decide to reveal their identities as to clear Adrian name and help with the lawsuits Marinette is preparing.

"The broadcast is supposed to air 30 minutes after class starts." Adrian was nervous. This was the first time he were coming back to class since Hawkmoth was defeated. Gorilla and Abby were their fulltime bodyguards now.

"Yeah I'm just hoping the principal corporates with the police." Marinette responds. Adrian nods. They enter the classroom. Many of their classmates say harsh things about the so called traitors but none come close to them in fear of their bodyguards.

When it comes time for the broadcast Ms Bustier makes it a class activity because why not? Only for the class to stare in shock at the the back row of their class. Marinette, Adrian, and Chloe continue to ignore their class as they ask questions. Ms Bustier tries to scold them for "not taking part in class discussion"

"Why the hell should my client disclose any information to a bunch of incompetent self righteous idiots who nearly killed ladybug!" Chloe's bodyguard snaps. Nino looks horrified. Juleka covers her mouth in shock. The pen in Nathaniels hand snaps. Ms Bustier looks taken back "My students wou never-" the door slams open. "Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi are to come with us impatiently. If you refuse we will take you by force. You have been deemed a threat to those around you" The man said. He clearly was not an officer but the man behind him is. Alya yells something about diplomatic immunity. "Alya Cesaire and Lila Rossi you are under arrest for attempted murder." The officer states while the man beside him just looks exasperated. "We only did it because we thought she was Mayrue! We only locked her in a closet!" Someone yells. "A closet in a building you knew the Akuma was targeting. If she had not of sent her Kwami through the air vents the Akuma would not have been stopped. If she had not gotten out dozens of people would have died including her. In case you have forgotten the miraculous cure did not fix anything that happened during that time because there was not a ladybug to case it so those people are still healing." The man states. "She looks perfectly fine now" Kim says. Chloe takes off part of Marinettes mechanical are and "yeet"s it at Kim's desk were it breaks in two. "Life saving risky surgery" is all Chloe says while picking up and returning Marinette hand. "As for the rest of you. You will give statements then head straight home unless told otherwise. Your parents are being contacted as we speak."

Nino, Nathaniel, Sabrina, and Juleka were allowed to stay. Ms. Bustier had to leave for the day. As it turned out the only one that had any idea what had happened was Nino who thought he had convinced his girlfriend not to act on what Lila said. Nino had no idea anything had happened that day until that moment. He believed Marinette stayed to help people because that is who she is. Ms. Bustier is fired as a teacher and brought up on charges of neglect as no teacher or adult for that matter could be that blindof all of what went on inform of them.

Nino gains temporary Miraculous. Nathaniel becomes Foxie. Juleka becomes Bunbun. They all continue to be heros for different reasons.

The classmates directly involved go though the justice system. Those that helped plan or just knew about it were sent to different schools for troubled teens.

[obsidiancreates]

Freezer Duty (Part One)

(This was going to be a one-shot but then it reached 4,000 words so now it’s split up)

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

Amy parks her car and lays her head on the steering wheel. "You can do this. Christmas shopping is already slowing down, you can do this."

She grabs her coffee thermos, a special blend Emma came up with just for the holiday rush days (it had made Amy almost cry with thankful joy, and had made Emma shrink into her sweater and mutter "Whatever," five times straight), and gets out of her car.

The parking lot is mostly empty. Either most of her coworkers took the bus, or Amy is one of the only people on time... again. Not that she blames anyone. The weather is so cold that getting out of bed feels like a death sentence.

As she walks to the doors, she glances at the other cars. Glenn, obviously. As long as she's been working there, he's always been early. Carol, too. Probably planning to mess with Sandra somehow, this kind of stuff is why corporate shouldn't have shut down the in-store HR department. And then...

Jonah's car? He's usually at least a couple of minutes later than her... weird.

She walks past, and pauses. Why are the inside lights on? That means it's unlocked, and she knows Jonah locks his car obsessively. She once saw him lock it five times through the doors of the store. 

Curiosity claims her, and she peeks inside. 

And drops her thermos.

“Oh my go- JONAH!”

The scream is loud enough to summon Glenn. “Amy, what is- AHHHH!” he holds his hands up to his head as he shrieks.

Jonah is laying inside his car, bleeding from the neck.

Amy yanks open the car door and shakes Jonah’s shoulders. “Jonah, Jonah wake up!” As she shakes and calls out, Glenn stands behind her with his hands clasped, frantically praying to both Jesus and the Jewish God in a highly confusing yet heartfelt prayer.

“Jonah!” Amy slaps him in the face in a moment of complete desperation.

Jonah startles awake and puts his hand up to his cheek. “O-ow! What was that for! And...” he looks behind Amy. “... Why is Glenn turning purple.”

“Wh- oh, my god, Glenn, take a breath. Okay, um, Jonah, are you alright?”

“I-I think so... why?”

“Well, because you’re sitting in your turned-off unlocked car, in the middle of winter, passed out with blood on your neck.”

“WHAT?!” Jonah feels his neck. “OH- oh, god this is- this is not good, how did-”

“Our insurance is so bad,” Glenn sobs, “You’re not gonna make it!”

“Glenn, don’t- okay, let’s get you inside and- you’re not still bleeding, right?”

“I don’t think so, but what does critical blood loss feel like? Like would I be able to tell? I need to Google this, just-”

“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Okay, into the store, Glenn help us out.”

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“Ow.” Jonah winces and flinches away as Amy dabs his neck with a wipe. 

“Pretty dramatic start to the work day, gosh. I hope nothing else happens.” Glenn shakes his hands by his sides and looks around nervously. He leans in and whispers, “Do you think they’ll find another foot? Jonah, what sneakers do you wear?”

“Again, still have both off my feet.” Jonah winces again, and Amy sets down the towel. 

“Okay, it’s all clean, so now we can-”

“Hey guys! Whoa...” Cheyenne stops in her tracks as she enters the breakroom, spreading her arms and stopping everyone else from entering too. There’s an annoyed clamoring for a minute before Garrett just rolls in under her arm. Everyone stoops down to follow, except Marcus, who tries (and fails) to turn it into a game of Limbo.

Garrett looks at the bloody wipes on the table Jonah and Amy are at. “Whoa, dude, what the hell happened?”

Amy sighs. “Jonah was-”

“We found Jonah dying in his car!” Glenn exclaims.

“Not dying!” Jonah and Amy say quickly. 

“He was passed out and bleeding a little,” Amy says to cut any rumors off preemptively, moving the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the wounds.

“In your car? In the middle of winter?”

Glenn nods, his face screwed up with worry. “And no scarf!”

“Oh, you’re for sure gonna die,” Cheyenne says, Mateo nodding in agreement. “It’s like, super cold outside.”

“Honestly I didn’t even feel that cold,” Jonah says, putting his hands up. “I guess my car stayed warm. ... Some-somehow.”

“What were you even doing in there? Are you homeless again? You could always crash at my place. Unless the birds don’t like you, then you’re gone. Nothing personal.” Dina sips her coffee.

“Thank you, for that... generous offer, um, I don’t actually remember.”

Amy pauses her checking. “You don’t?”

“No, I um, I just remember realizing I forgot something and going back into the store to get it, and then coming out and everyone was gone. And then there’s just sort of, nothing. ... That-that actually is more worrying, now that I say it aloud, am-am I dying?”

“Your brain probably froze up and is just taking time to de-thaw,” Marcus says with a flippant gesture. “Happened to my cousin once when we ate too many beer-pops.”

“... Okay, then, what’s a- no, nevermind, I can just guess. I don’t actually think that’s how brain freezes work, but thanks, I think.” 

Marcus smiles and raises his hands in an attempt at a gracious gesture.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Amy asks, bringing the subject back to the alarming and somewhat urgent situation.

“Maybe someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Blunt force trauma, put him back in his car to make it look like he froze to death, do you know of anyone who wants to kill you? Maybe a disgruntled ex-classmate, customer you bored out of their skull with a pointless story, maybe-”

“That- no. No, I don’t think anyone wants to kill me for telling an invigorating story. And I’d rather not think about that, actually.”

Dina shrugs. “You don’t want to solve the mystery, fine. But don’t blame me when someone you screwed over in a group project cuts off your junk.”

Jonah and Amy stare at Dina for a second, and then Amy shakes her head. “Anyway... I checked, and I don’t think he has anything wrong with his head. Just his neck.”

Mateo glances over, unperturbed but curious. His expression becomes horrified. “Oh, my god! There’s two giant holes in your neck!”

Jonah slaps his hand over the wounds. “WHAT?!”

“They are not giant holes!” Amy shouts as everyone starts chattering. “They’re tiny ones! And-and they’re more like cuts, anyway!”

“Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”

“Why would they do that, Dina?”

“Yeah, who wastes drugs like that?” Cheyenne looks around at everyone else, who have gone silent. “What?”

“And, wait, with two needles?” Garrett points to Jonah’s neck. 

“Maybe they missed a vein the first time.” Dina snorts like it’s an obvious conclusion.

Marcus snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s some kind of new fancy needle.”

Dina shakes her head. “I keep up to date on drug needle trends. We find too many in the customer bathrooms for me to be out of the loop.”

Glenn startles slightly. “We do?”

“Guys!” Amy gestures at Jonah.

Everyone murmurs some form of “Right!” or “Sorry Jonah.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine.” Jonah keeps a hand over the holes. “It’s just a little sore, and um, I don’t know, I guess I’m a little chilly and tired, but I’m generally okay.”

“Okay, great!” Dina claps her hands. “You can have an easy assignment today because of the whole ‘attacked for revenge’ thing-”

“That’s not what-”

“Well, no-one knows what happened, so for now my theory is valid. Anyway, I’ll assign you to grocery. Slow over there today, bakery is having a big sale and uh, huh, we had an overstock of powered donuts so it might get wild.”

“Well... thank you, Dina. A slow day sounds good, actually, because I’m starting to get a headache.” Jonah rubs his eyes. “Really bright in here.”

“It’s the standard fluorescents.” Glenn looks up. “Unless corporate had it changed overnight, but I don’t think so...”

Cheyenne tilts her head with a small frown, and looks at Jonah’s neck throughout the rest of the meeting.

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“No way,” Mateo scoffs. “That’s far-fetched gossip, even for us.”

“No, but it would make sense, right?” Cheyenne looks around, and then whispers. “Didn’t notice the cold, lights too bright, two holes in his neck. Jonah totally got bitten by a vampire.” She leans back and nods, eyes wide at her own revelation.

“Vampires aren’t even real though! As much as we might wish they were.”

They glance over at Grocery. Jonah is yawning, leaning against the freezer section. 

“He looks pale, right?” Cheyenne whispers.

“He always looks pale. He could wear non-tinted sunscreen as foundation,” Mateo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Yeah, I guess. ... Should we try to get a look at his eyes?”

“Chy, I love you, but we’ve got a ton of restocking to do and I don’t want to be all panicked before lunch.”

“Right. Right. Yeah. Probably just like, letting my imagination get the best of me, right? Yeah...”

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“Excuse me?” 

Jonah startles, jumping away from the freezer door. “Hi! Yes, sorry! Um, what-what can I... help you with?”

“Could you please show me where the frozen pizzas are?”

“Sure, ma’am, right this way.” Jonah rubs his eyes, leading her to a different section of the freezer area. 

“Oh, thank you! Could you grab it for me?”

“Wh-why?”

“I don’t like the cold.”

Well, neither does he, and he’s already chilly. But this is his job. Somehow. How did he get here again? His head feel a little foggy, he can’t quite gather his thoughts. 

He reaches in and grabs the pizza. “Okay, here you-”

“No, the ones from the very back.”

“... I-I’m sorry?”

“The back ones are always better.”

“... Alright, I will... reach all the way into the back of the freezer.”

Jonah leans into the freezer, bracing himself for chills and shivers. And...

... Nothing.

It’s cold, but it’s... not bothering him that much. he leans in, grabs the pizza, and leans back out without feeling any more cold than he did prior to the task.

“Thank you, young man. You should grab yourself one too, it’ll put some color into those cheeks.”

The old woman walks away, and Jonah pulls out his phone to look up symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.

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

Justine shakes her head. “I’ve read Twilight a million times, if he was a vampire I would be able to tell.”

“What if we give him some garlic bread, and tell him it’s normal bread?” Sandra suggests.

“Because if he’s just allergic to garlic, we won’t know the difference. Doy.” Marcus scoff-laughs at Sandra and points at her mockingly with his thumb.

“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, rolling up to the group. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be unloading a truck right now?”

“Eh, didn’t feel like it. Anyway, we’re trying to figure out if Jonah is a vampire now.”

“Are you serious?”

They all nod. Garrett grins. He folds his hands in his lap. “So what have you tried so far?”

“Nothing yet,” Justine admits.

“We might give him garlic bread,” Sandra says with a shrug. “Is he allergic to garlic?”

“No.”

Sandra lights up. “So it would work!” Her smiles fades. “Oh. But then it might kill him.”

“We can’t do that! The Horsemen stick together, I could never hurt my best friend.” Marcus shakes his head. “What if we just drop something really heavy on him and see if he catches it?”

“That won’t hurt him?” Garrett checks.

“Not if he’s a vampire.”

“Right, right. How about instead of splattering him across the Wheaties boxes, you just ask Glenn to go pester him with Bible stuff?” Garrett would love to see that, Jonah gets to flustered over trying not to offend while trying to get away. It’s hilarious.

Marcus points at Garrett with a smile. “That- yes! Perfect! Thanks man!”

The small group runs off, and Garrett laughs a little to himself as he heads on back to customer service.

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“Oh, this one is one of my favorite verses, so here we go, ahem-”

“Hey, Glenn? Isn’t there a-a rule, against doing this kind of thing at work?”

“Well... technically... but Marcus told me you wanted to know my favorite parts of the Bible, so I just sort of thought why wait.”

“He- really? Because I’m not... known, for being very curious about... the Bible...”

“But you are known for being curious about your friends,” Glenn says with a point and a smile.

Jonah plasters on a smile himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I do tend to-”

“Get a little nosy.”

“... I was going to say get involved, but... I-I guess nosy works too. But um, I’m restocking the ice cream right now, so kind of have to act fast,” Jonah motions at the freezeer.

“Oh, then I’ll make this quick! Okay, this verse says-”

Jonah sighs, rubbing his head. His headache is just getting worse and worse. He’s pretty sure it’s the lights, or maybe the dry-cold freezer air, but Glenn’s babbling is not helping. 

And his voice is really grating right now. It’s not exactly soothing at even the best of times, but Jonah is pretty sure he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than another round of ‘Top Bible Verses’ from Glenn.

“Okay!” he snaps. “That’s good, that is- that is very much enough! Thank you for sharing something you enjoy with me, now please let me do my job!”

Glenn startles, and then hugs his Bible to his chest. “Fine. Then I guess you don’t get to hear me sing the top five best Psalms. Which is too bad for you, because Jerusha says I do them well enough to be on radio.”

Glenn walks away, and Jonah sighs. He hadn’t meant to snap, it was just really getting on his nerves. ... At least his headache is a little better already without the extra noise.

He watches Glenn walk away, and then catches sight of Justine and Sandra quickly ducking behind another isle. He looks on in confusion for a moment more, and then gets back to work.

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

“Okay, we need a real plan,” Justine sighs. 

“For what?” Dina pauses on her way to the coffee pot. “More raccoons? Did they find a snake in the bananas again?”

“We think Jonah night be a vampire,” Sandra says.

Cheyenne stops eating her lunch. “Oh my god, you told them?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” Mateo defends. “It’s been a boring day! Other than, you know, Jonah almost dying.”

“Wait, you guys think Jonah is a vampire? No way, have you seen him? That’d be too cliche.” Dina scoffs at the idea. And then looks at the ground, a thoughtful frown appearing on her face. “Although the cliche would also mean it makes sense...”

Garrett eats a chip. “Come on, he’d be a terrible vampire. Vampires are supposed to be confidant and suave. Jonah can’t even explain his cookie choices without a five-minute tirade.”

“And he’d cut himself off at least six times in those five minute,” Dina says with a slight wince. “Yeah, he’d be a terrible vampire.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s really confident, and he does that smirk thing?” Sandra says, gesturing to her own mouth for emphasis. “Plus, he always stands like a politician.”

“And he puts way too much product in his hair! That’s a total vampire thing,” Cheyenne says with a definitive shrug.

“He does already have that black-hair-pale-skin thing going for him...” Mateo admits. “If he could be a villain on CW he could be a vampire.”

“And how would he drink blood?” Garrett asks. “Just talk until the person passes out? Ask overly politely in a way that really sounds like he’s trying to ask for sex?”

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

“He would starve,” Cheyenne declares. “Because he’d be picky, too, right?”

“Picky like, about the person’s health?” Mateo asks with a doubtful frown. “He’d probably freak out about not wanting to discriminate though.”

“That would be the starvation,” Dina says with a nod. “He’d be too worried about the socio-political crap of whoever he picks so he’d just debate himself until it was too late.”

“... That’d be kind of funny,” Mateo says quietly.

Everyone thinks for a moment, and then agrees.

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“Hey, Jonah.” Dina snaps her fingers in front of Jonah’s face, jarring him out of his standing sleep. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Sorry, Dina.” Jonah rubs his face. “I feel exhausted.”

“It’s the middle of the day.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I know. Um, what did you need?”

“I need you to go help Brett move some of the exercise equipment, the dolly broke.”

“Wh- so-so we have to move it by hand?”

“You’ve got a little muscle on your noodle arms, you can handle it.” Dina slaps him on the back and walks away. Jonah huffs, hands on his hips. After a moment he shakes his head and moves over to exercise.

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“Okay, now we find out for sure,” Dina says smugly. “No way a Human Jonah could handle the weight of that stuff.”

Everyone is crammed into the surveillance office, watching Jonah on the monitors.

“Should one of us tell Amy about this?” Cheyenne asks. “I feel like we’re leaving her out.”

“It is weird that I’m in on this and not her,” Marcus agrees. “But she’d probably tell us this is ‘dangerous’ or something.”

“She wouldn’t like it at all,” Dina confirms. “Best to just tell her about it later, or let her find out on her own. Later.”

They watch Jonah and Brett work together surprisingly smoothly, moving the heavy equipment with a perfectly human amount of struggling. Dina leans back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “Dammit. I almost let myself believe in magic...”

“Wait, look!” Cheyenne points to the monitor. 

Everyone looks, excited and hopeful. And they collectively sigh and grumble.

“He’s just talking to a customer,” Mateo says.

“A super rude one! I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a total asshole. Let’s turn on the audio and listen to Jonah freak out.”

“I do love a good Jonah freakout.” Dina turns on the audio.

“Yeah, I-I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t carry that here anymore.”

“This store has carried it for over ten years.”

“Yeah, it’s a bummer! I know I hate when store stop carrying stuff I like. But maybe! Maybe we can view this as a-a chance for personal growth, for you! A chance at... at evolution, at moving forward-”

“Are you mocking me, little bitch boy?”

Everyone gasps. “Oh no he didn’t,” Cheyenne whispers. On the camera, Jonah is clearly taken aback, leaning away from the customer and staring with wide eyes.

“Some... very strong language, sir. Um, no, I just meant that maybe, you know, instead of-of viewing this in the negative-”

“So I’m a negative person?”

“No! No, I can’t- I don’t know you! I can’t make judgements about people that fast! Just- I hope this doesn’t ruin your day, right? And-and I want to see if we can find you a-a replacement, so that you can still have what you want!”

“How important do you think this is to me? You think I’m pathetic? Can’t be happy without my specific little brand?”

“No, I just-”

“I’m gonna need to speak with your bitch of a floor manager or whatever she’s called.”

“... I’m sorry?”

“Your bitch of a floor manager. The loud Latina lady.”

Dina stands up, ready to go beat the man with a bat for talking about her best friend that way. Cheyenne pushes her back down, jaw dropped. “I think Jonah is about to stand up to him,” she says.

Jonah is indeed, looking quite pissed off. He steps closer, and looks the much taller man right in the eyes. Jonah’s a good head shorter, his hair barely coming up to the other man’s chin, yet for some reason unknown the black-and-white monitor shows the customer being the one who leans back.

“You, sir, are a very unpleasant person,” Jonah says in a calm, measured voice. “And I think you need to do some self-reflection. I think you should leave the store, and learn how to talk about people without using the word ‘bitch’, alright?”

It’s so overly polite it’s almost comical. Yet somehow... it works.

The customer stands there for a second, then just... walks away. Jonah watches after him, the calm and collection expression on his face quickly giving way to confusion. He looks around as though wondering if someone else had done something to scare the customer off.

“Confidence boost,” Sandra says softly.

Cheyenne pulls out a notebook and ticks something off. “That counts as evidence.”

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Jonah has no clue what just happened.

One moment he was speaking with a rude customer, the next the customer was walking away and Jonah has no clue why. What he does know was that his headache was slightly better, and that he really wishes his lunch break was sooner because he is famished.

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to see Amy looking at him with slight concern. “You okay? You’re just sort of... staring off into space.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh... yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

“... I don’t believe you.”

“Well, then you... have trust issues, because I am. I’m fine.”

“... Sure... can I see your neck again, real quick?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird and I want to make sure you’re not developing an infection that’s getting to your brain?”

“... Yeah, check away.”

Amy checks, and winces. “Youch. Yeah, let’s get some more antibiotics on those.” She starts leading him towards the breakroom. “So, what happened with that customer? I came over right at the tail end, missed the whole thing.”

“Oh. Um... I guess I just, really got through to him.”

“You?”

“Yes, me, why- what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It’s just, usually when you try to calm down a customer you don’t get very far.”

“Well, you know, sometimes people just listen if you hit the right cords-”

“Mmm-hmm, yeah.”

“-I guess I just found the right words to resonate with him, is all I’m saying.” If only he knew what those words were...

Creak

Jonah pauses. “Did-did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Creaaak

Jonah looks up. “I think the ceiling is about to collapse.”

“Why?”

CREAAAAK!

A mass of merch falls from the ceiling! Amy and Jonah both scream, brace themselves, Amy still holding onto Jonah and Jonah still holding onto Amy-!

...

And... they’re a safe distance from it all as it crashes down.

A multitude of raccoons scamper out and scatter, their Nest Of Stolen Goods now revealed. Jonah and Amy watch from the sidelines.

The sidelines!

“How did we get over here?” Amy is staring at the pile.

“... I don’t know,” Jonah replies, staring as well. Oh, what an adrenaline rush, his heart is racing- ... it... should... be racing...

Amy’s hand is still around Jonah’s wrist. She looks at him for a moment, and then shakes off the shock. “Okay, um, let’s get a team to clean this up, and get some antibiotic on your neck.”

“Will that part take a whole team, too?”

“Ha-ha, Jonah. ... I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

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

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” Cheyenne grabs Mateo and starts shaking him. “DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

“WE ALL SAW!” Mateo shouts, pushing Cheyenne away. He huffs and brushes off his sweater. “All three of us left, anyway.”

Dina taps the monitor. “That’s why you never leave the surveillance room after something mildly interesting happens! Something big always follows!”

“He’s actually a vampire,” Mateo says in disbelief. “He vampire-ran away from that junk, he’s actually a vampire!”

Dina scoff-laughs. “The little guy pulled off one hell of a ruse, huh? Pretty clever, faking amnesia.”

Cheyenne stops her mini victory celebration. “Whoa, why do you think he’s faking?” 

“Because why wouldn’t I? He’s a vampire now, even if he actually doesn’t remember what happened it’s got to be pretty obvious to him that he’s undead. ... Right?”

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

“What’re you googling?” Amy dabs at the neck wounds gently with a damp cloth as she prepares to put on the antibiotic cream.

“Symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia. I guess everyone got into my head this morning, and I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me...”

“Well... anything about last night coming back? Could help you figure out whatever symptoms you’ve got.”

“Still nothing.” Jonah rubs his neck when Amy is done dabbing it with the cloth. “I still feel like the day just started, honestly.”

“Oh yeah,” Amy agrees. “Today’s going to be a long day.”

[dakotacrisis]

Cherry Blossoms (4)

And I am back in time for another update right at the end of pride month. Plan was to get this whole story posted during the month but that did not happen. Oh well, people are still gay in July. Just a whole lot less corporate pandering.

As far as things with Kagami and Marinette are going...well...plans go awry fast.

Read on AO3

---

Adrien was not joking around with what he called Operation Cherry Blossoms. A.K.A. Operation Get-Marinette-To-Fall-In-Love-With-Kagami. He had even called in reinforcements. When Kagami showed up at his house as he requested Alya was also there with a full slideshow presentation prepared. They went over Marinette’s likes and dislikes. Her favorite things and places to go.

There was even a theory discussion about Marinette’s sexuality and why she never seems to fall in love with anyone. The long standing belief was that she was possibly somewhere on the Ace spectrum but that was a whole other thing to get into. Right now they were working with the hope that Marinette did want to experience romantic love and hopefully that romantic love spread to girls. They all knew Marinette wasn’t straight but she never gave them a definite title so the mass consensus was that she was at least bi.

“Guys,” Kagami stopped them, “This is all very thoughtful of you but isn’t this a little weird?”

Alya paused her presentation to turn to her. “What about this is weird?”

“You are literally showing me a presentation on what Marinette is like. I know what she’s like. I don’t need to know that her third favorite ice cream flavor is Very Cherry Chocolate Swirl. I need advice on how to get closer to her so that I’m not stumbling over myself trying to talk to her. The fact that I am nervous enough to stammer around her is baffling to me. I never hesitate to go for stuff that I want but with Marinette...I…”

Adrien sighed. “We know and you’re right. We need a different approach. Giving her a Marinette quiz isn’t gonna help her win her over.”

“Fair enough,” Alya closed out of the powerpoint with a small frown. “What should we do then?”

“Well we can go over the different tactics we used to try and woo Marinette.” Adrien shrugged, “They didn’t work obviously but there was stuff that we did that she liked. Ironically enough she really liked getting flowers in my experience.”

“Yeah, doing little stuff like buying her favorite candy or sending her pictures of cute hamsters worked when I was trying to flirt with her.” Alya said.

“Okay, this is good, tell me more about this kind of stuff.” Kagami started taking notes on her phone.

“She appreciates when you plan something.” Adrien said, “I planned this big day together where we went to a bunch of places I knew she loved to shop, got lunch at her favorite cafe, and topped it off with seeing a movie she had been raving about. She really seemed to love it. Of course while I was trying to flirt and stuff she was only seeing it as a nice day out with a friend.”

“That is a dangerous line to walk,” Alya sighed, “You could plan the most romantic date ever and she would only be able to see it as a friendly gesture if you aren’t straight up with her about your intentions. I love her to death but the girl is so oblivious it actually hurts.”

“So how am I supposed to flirt with her without making it obvious that I am in love with her?”

“You can’t really. That’s the problem.” Alya said.

“Then why are we even here? If she’s too oblivious to notice someone is flirting with her and she gets spooked when someone is upfront with their feelings then how am I supposed to get anywhere with her?” Kagami asked, flabbergasted by this never ending cycle of pining and failure that was the pursuit of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“Schemes. Romantic schemes. Like they do in romantic comedy movies.” Adrien said proudly.

Kagami turned to Alya, deadpanned, “Is he serious?”

“I think you two are underestimating how well this can work.” Adrien pulled up his own powerpoint presentation titled, Romantic Comedy Schemes and Why They Worked.

“Oh sweet baby swiss cheese,” Alya sighed, “Adrien, I told you this wasn’t a viable plan.”

“Hear me out!” Adrien pleaded.

“Fine!”

“Seriously?” Alya gaped at Kagami, “You want to actually hear this boy list off how the note cards from Love Actually was the ultimate romantic gesture or some crap like that?”

“It’s not like I have a whole lot of options.” Kagami threw her hands up, “It’s either romantic comedy shenanigans or trying to flirt with Marinette on my own. Neither seem viable but at least this one is less likely to make me puke up flowers. Go ahead, Agreste. Let’s hear your attack strategy.”

“All right!” Adrien beamed as he clicked to the next slide, “Let’s start with the proper setting.”

---

Kagami could not believe that she was doing this. She had agreed to it but it still seemed ridiculous. No. It didn’t ‘seem’ ridiculous, it ‘was’ ridiculous! This whole plot Adrien concocted with the help of Alya and a watchmojo top ten list of most romantic movie dates was utterly insane. If Kagami wasn’t desperate she would have said no. But she was. She was desperate and in love and desperately in love with the most wonderful yet naive girl in the world.

Adrien was walking with Kagami towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Right into the belly of the beast. Adrien kept a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they got closer. Kagami balled her hands in the fabric of her jacket. She can do this. They stopped outside the bakery and Adrien turned to her.

“You okay? You got this?”

“I’m okay. I can do this.” Kagami nodded, “And you’re sure this will work?”

“Only one way to find out.” Adrien said, “Quick cough, make sure there’s no loose flower petals that are gonna come popping out.”

Kagami grabbed her handkerchief and coughed into it a few times but no petals came up. They were good for now at least. She stuffed the hanky back in her pocket and followed Adrien into the bakery. It was fairly slow at this time and Marinette was standing by herself at the counter and flipping through a magazine. Kagami’s stomach flipped upon seeing her and she could swear she felt that tickle in her throat again.

Adrien ushered her forward with a hand on the small of her back. “Hey Marinette,” Adrien greeted her cheerfully, “Working hard as usual I see.”

“Oh hey guys,” Marinette smiled at them. She slid her magazine away. “What brings you by?”

“Well Kagami here wanted to order a custom cake for an upcoming special event and you know more about this stuff than me so I figured you could help us out.”

“Of course, I love assembling custom cakes,” Marinette pulled out a large binder from behind the counter. “First thing is first, how many people does this need to feed and what is your budget?”

“Budget is unlimited,” Adrien handed her his credit card, “and you can get all of the rest of the details from Kagami. Unfortunately I cannot stick around. I have a photoshoot I gotta run to but you two have fun. Kagami, get my card back to me after alright?”

What? This wasn’t part of the plan! Adrien was supposed to stay! He wasn’t supposed to leave her alone. Was this his plan all along? Oh she was going to kill him later! That hopeless romantic airheaded jerk was gonna have Kagami’s foot so far up his butt her foot would stick out of his mouth by the time she’s through with him.

Adrien patted Kagami on the top of her head and whispered into her ear, “Relax, you’ll be fine.” He bid the girls goodbye and left without another look back.

“Okay then,” Marinette was completely unperturbed by Adrien sudden departure, “Let’s get started on that cake.” She turned around to shout to the back of the bakery, “Mama! Can you come run register? I gotta help take a cake order.”

“Sure thing sweetie,” Mrs. Cheng came up to the front, “Oh Kagami, how nice to see you again. Are you ordering the cake? We’ll be sure to put it at the top of our list just for you.”

“Thank you,” Kagami said. She followed Marinette back through the bakery and into the apartment stairwell.

“We’ll have more privacy here,” Marinette sat down on the step, “Now how many people was this going to serve?”

“Uh…” Kagami racked her brain. She really didn’t need an actual cake. She wasn’t even that big into sweets. Adrien was paying for it too so she didn’t want to go overboard. Since Adrien was paying for it she supposed she could just assemble something she thought he would like and give it to him and Alya as a sort of thanks for helping her out. “Two people.”

“Smaller cake then, alright,” Marinette jotted down the information, “Did you want something like a tart or a cake?”

“Cake.”

“One or two layers?”

“One.”

“And specific shape? We can do a circle, rectangle, square, we can even do a heart if this is for something or someone special.” Marinette giggled. “Or maybe you just think little heart shaped cakes are cool.”

“Circle is fine.” Kagami choked back the petals in her throat trying to escape.

“And what kind of flavor were you thinking for the cake? We have lots of different options.”

“Uh...vanilla?”

“Simple, classic, love it.” Marinette continued on. “And what about filling? We have a lovely cherry filling that I think you would adore. I know how much you like cherry and we do use real chopped cherries in the filling.”

“Sure,”

“Great. I gotta know, what is this cake for? Adrien said it was for a very special event you were planning. What’s going on?”

“Oh it’s nothing really.”

“Come on, tell me, I’m curious,” Marinette scooted closer with her chin resting in her hands, “You said it was for two people. Is this maybe for a romantic date you have planned?��

“What? No! That’s not--” Kagami tried to back away but her back was already pressed into the stair railing, “Definitely not a date. This was--this was um--” Quick Kagami! Think of something! Anything! “Actually,” she said, “This was supposed to be a present for Adrien but then he offered to pay and I couldn’t tell him that it was for him cause it was supposed to be a surprise so now I’m kind of in a box about it.”

“A present for Adrien?” Marinette asked, “That’s sweet. Why are you getting him a present? Is there some sort of anniversary coming up?”

“No. I just thought it would be a nice gesture since we’re good friends and all.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Well that is just wonderful.” Marinette said, “If this is for Adrien then maybe we want to change the filling to passionfruit. I know that’s his favorite. Did you want to do that instead?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Kagami breathed out in relief. Dodged that bullet.

The girls spent the rest of the time constructing the perfect cake that they thought Adrien would like. It wasn’t the most romantic setting but it did give them ample time alone. Kagami hadn’t even noticed how fast the time was flying by as their conversation kept drifting from the cake form to other topics. At some point they had started leaning on one another with tears in their eyes as they laughed about a croissant eating contest Marinette’s school had put on and the disastrous results that ensued.

“I am telling you,” Marinette took a moment to breathe, “We had no idea where she was putting them all. Alix just kept downing croissant after croissant like she was pac-man. For someone so small she has a huge stomach.”

“I bet that angered Kim to no end.” Kagami laughed.

“Oh you have no idea. Poor guy was trying so hard to keep up but just couldn’t do it.” Marinette shook her head. She laid down so her head was resting in Kagami’s lap. “I need a minute. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I can scarcely breathe.”

“Me either.” Kagami’s hand automatically went to Marinette’s hair and started running her hands through it. “How did we even get to this point? I’m fairly certain we were trying to create a cake for Adrien before this.”

“We were,” Marinette closed her eyes under Kagami’s attentions, “I’m just using you as an excuse to not have to wait on customers. That’s why I keep prolonging this.”

“And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

“I do. I love hanging out with you.” Marinette sighed, “I love it even more when you play with my hair. I feel like a little kitten getting lovies and pets.”

“You would make an adorable kitten.” Kagami said. The urge to cough came upon Kagami and she tried to swallow it back. It was a miracle she hadn’t dissolved into a coughing fit while she was laughing earlier. Marinette’s eyes were closed so hopefully she wouldn’t notice.

Kagami gave a quick cough to clear the petals but they were stuck and weren’t coming loose from such meager means. Crap. She tried a few more tiny coughs but it was only aggravating her more.

“You okay?” Marinette sat up, “Allergies again? Or do you just have a tickle in your throat.”

“I’m fine,” she turned away as her coughing got more violent. Stupid flower petals! Stupid disease! Marinette ran a hand up and down her back to ease the ache.

“Are you sure you don’t want a glass of water?”

“Water would be good,” Kagami answered in a hoarse voice. At least with Marinette gone she could get these petals out without her noticing. Marinette ran off to get her some water and Kagami started coughing hard hoping to dislodge the petals quickly before Marinette got back. What Kagami did not count on was Marinette being so darn fast and racing back to their spot with a water bottle in hand just as Kagami got the petals out. She had a hand clamped over her mouth with the petals settled in her palm.

She closed her fist around the petals and stuffed her hand in her pocket to hide the petals. “Thanks Marinette,” Kagami took the water.

“No problem, oops, you got a little something there.” Marinette reached a hand out and plucked something from Kagami’s chin. Double crap! One of the petals must have gotten stuck to her chin.

Marinette turned the petal over in the light. The recognition of what it was hitting her and the realization settling in as she put the pieces together. The cough. The petal. There was only one explanation.

“Oh dear,” Marinette frowned with worry, “Kagami? Are you alright? Please be honest with me, do you have Hanahaki disease?”

There was no point lying now. Marinette already knew. Might as well get it over with and end the suffering now.

“Yes,” Kagami pulled the petals out of her pocket, “I have for a while now.”

“Oh I am so sorry!” Marinette cried out, “I know how much that sucks. It’s such an unfair disease.”

“I am painfully aware,” Kagami scoffed, “At least they’re small.”

“Pretty too,” Marinette handed her the petal back. “So you have an unrequited love?”

“Big time.”

“Have you confessed?”

“No. That’s why I’m here. This, ordering the cake, it was supposed to help in some way. It seems silly now. I’m usually so upfront with people about what I want and what I feel but this whole ordeal has thrown me for a loop.” Kagami kept her head down. She didn’t want to see Marinette’s face when she rejected her.

“I see,” Marinette pulled her in for a hug. “It’s okay, Kagami. I don’t think it was stupid at all.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” Marinette pulled back  far enough to look in Kagami’s eyes, “I think telling someone how you feel over a delicious cake is a swell way to go about it. The fact that you are going to all this trouble for Adrien is so heartwarming.”

“Adrien?” Kagami looked at her confused. Why was she talking about Adrien… “Oh sweet baby swiss cheese,”

“Was this Alya’s idea?” Marinette asked, “She says that a lot so I figured that’s where you picked it up. Alya is great, always prepared for everything. Might go a little overboard but she’s a good person to go to for stuff like this.”

“Marinette, about Adrien--”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything.” Marinette hugged her again, “This will stay just between us. And do not worry about the cake. This one is on us. We will make sure it is perfect for your confession date, whenever you have that planned. Adrien would have to be insane not to fall in love with you.”

“Uh huh, this whole thing is so insane.” Kagami muttered. Operation Cherry Blossoms just got a whole lot more complicated.

---

(First) (Previous) (Next)

[bts-ficrecs]

hey!! can you recommend a few series (any member)? thank you very much!

“a few” hAHAHAHA you’re really funny.

Bro, why’d u have you make ur request sooo broad 😂 i tried to reign in the crazy and failed. I decided I’m going to give you a list of series that are sitting impatiently on my to read list! Making this list makes me want to devour them all right now lol.

Feel free to go through my archive to find series that I have read, cause there are plenty of those too :”) So without further ado…

Note: please be aware several of the ongoing series are either on hiatus or discontinued or just haven’t been updated in 17392 years lol. I know some people can’t deal with that so do make sure to check if the writers are still active and/or when the last update was! And don’t pressure the writers about updates kthxbai ❤

 

ONGOING

Aristocrat by @itskimtaehyung

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/4

Summary: In which Namjoon pays you for your *ahem* services.

A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning by @therealredraven

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 4/? (discontinued)

Summary: Love comes in many shapes, but does not always have a prosperous fate. However, whereas parents might have found it, all the children can do is live in kalopsia. Forbidden yet denying the mourning of the path chosen for them by Fate.

Blood Princess by @mintchockookie

Genre: angst

Parts: 9/?

Summary: Choi Y/N is one of the most dangerous and feared members of Papa Choi gang. But she doesn’t want to be. Kim Nam Joon is the leader of the biggest gang in all South Korea and craves revenge for having his godfather being killed by Papa Choi. When their paths cross, nothing can hold them.

Untold Stories by @interludemoonchild

Genre: fluff

Parts: 8/?

Summary: A series of drabbles based on Namjoon owning a bookshop in a small town.

What Am I To You? by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: To Namjoon, she could make the salt taste like sugar on her hands. But in the end, she isn’t as sweet as he believed her to be. 

 

 

COMPLETE

Best Friend!Namjoon by @lamourche

Genre: angst, fluff, smut 

Parts: 3/3

Summary: “I locked the keys in the car.”

Passionfruit by @joonbird

Genre: smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: To you, matters of the heart have always been simple. You’ve always lived by three rules: you don’t do emotions, you don’t do attachment, and you don’t do love. That is, until you meet the enigma that is Kim Namjoon- a man who shakes your entire world upside down.

Piercings by @personawife

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2 + 1 (feat. Yoongi)

Summary: “What’s that sticking through your shirt?”

Rumor Has It by @jjungkookislife

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2 + drabble

Summary: After hearing a rumor about your best friend, it's all you can think about.

Tear by @polaritae

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: Getting the attention of your crush seems impossible. Good thing your best friend is always willing to help out!

 

 

ONGOING

Dame-De-La-Nuit by @cyphahobi

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: First night on the job turns into a week long adventure of business and pleasure. Landing business man, Kim Seokjin as your first client, turns your whole world upside down.

Evanescent by @jinletgo

Genre:angst, smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: You’re a journalist-aspiring secretary to Kim Namjoon, the CEO of Telescope, a leading lifestyle and culture magazine. One night with a handsome and charismatic stranger ignites a passion and excitement that you didn’t know you had. When that stranger turns out to be Kim Seokjin, the print journalist of a rival magazine, the simple life you take for granted and dream career you’d been working towards are left in jeopardy…

King of Hearts by @thecozywhaleshark

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/10

Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone… so you hire an escort… his name is Jin.

The City Comes Alive by @minflix

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 1/2

Summary: Being a street performer, Kim Seokjin sees many nameless and forgettable faces each and everyday. But there is this one girl that he can’t seem to forget. Maybe it’s because his heart seems to fall in love with her a little more each time she passes him by.

 

 

COMPLETE

Aperitivo by @bangtanbetchfics

Genre: smut, feat Jungkook

Parts: 2/2

Summary: On the heels of a breakup, you fall hopelessly in lust with two pastry chefs on your vacation in Venice.

Burden by @neonlights92

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 8/8

Summary: After the death of his wife during childbirth Kim Seokjin is unable to hold his baby daughter without grief taking control. Just three weeks after the love of his life is taken from him so suddenly, Jin is expected to marry somebody new. You are foolish and have spent your whole life pining after Kim Seokjin from afar, even after he marries your best friend, Seul.  But suddenly Seul is gone and you are expected to marry Jin and raise his child. You know your heart is already in it, but what about his?

Alt. Summary: A marriage to Kim Seokjin was all you ever wanted.  But not at the cost of your best friend’s life.

Don’t Wanna Fall by @9uk

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: After your boyfriend breaks up with you, you are in need of company. Strangely enough, you get more company than you had initially wanted.

Alt. summary: His world revolves around wealth, power and most importantly—women. He’d spoil every one of them by his side or on his bed, with limited edition bags and expensive heels. So why is the CEO of kim corporations currently buying you a pet bunny?

In The Bleak Midwinter by @pcyheartgirlx

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 25/25 + 2 different endings

Summary: We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves.

Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: You and Seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at Big Hit Academy of Culinary Arts.

The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 5/5 + drabbles

Summary: You never imagined accidentally attempting to sell your soul to the devil would lead to this…

 

 

ONGOING

Addicted by @yoongiandchiminie

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: Suga, the Stealth and Weapons guy of Bangtan meets his Soulmate with a bang. He’d grown up believing in the idea of finding the person he was destined to be with and won’t let her get away. Even if she’s addicted, he’s determined to help her. He just wants to save his Blue girl.

Choices by @btsiguess

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You didn’t think that when you woke up this morning you were going to go out and buy a hybrid. But really, ending up with this stupid cat might be the best thing that ever happened to you. Much to both you and Yoongi’s chagrin. 

Grey Area by @blushoseoks

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 13/?

Summary: And just like that, your fate was sealed - because min yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

Reputation by @mindayss

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: Min Yoongi’s got quite a reputation. As do you.

 

 

COMPLETE

Di piano e forte by @justoneday-namjoonii

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 6/6

Summary: Piano; A keyboard of cypress, played with soft and loud. Was it the ivory and onyx keys that let you escape from your reality…Or was it the man with sable hair and ivory skin.

Errantes by @cno-inbminor

Genre: fluff

Parts: 2/2 + Epilogue

Summary: Yoongi accidentally gets spiked pumpkin juice, but it’s not by alcohol. More like it was spiked by a Love Potion – Beguiling Bubbles, to be exact – and Sora may or may not have had a hand in this. The point is, she’s hoping Yoongi will never find out and she’ll be alive to take her N.E.W.T.’s.

Fragility by @writtenyoongi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: “There are a lot of fucked up things about me, you know? And there’s a lot of fucked up things that have happened. But when I’m with you all of those things, yeah they still exist but it’s like they’re a lot further away, I don’t feel as if they’re eating me alive.”

Long Time Coming by @an-exotic-writer

Genre: fluff, angst (?)

Parts: 6/6 + drabble

Summary: In which it’s been a long time coming since you’re meeting Min Yoongi once more.

Private Lessons by @baeseoul

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: “I have an idea,” Once he saw how you straightened in your seat, your gaze flaring with aggravation, he continued quickly, “For every question I get right, you tell me something about yourself.”

Skin Deep by @aquaminwrites

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 10/10

Summary: Yoongi has never—and presumably will never—like tattoos.

 

 

ONGOING

Bygones Of The Sun by @scriptaed

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the rises sun has gone into hiding- because perhaps its shadows have out-shines its own radiance.

Euphuistic by @guksthighs

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Hoseok’s delivery of flowers does not go as planned when it starts raining and someone mysertious gives him an umbrella.

Plant A Kiss On These Tulips by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: fluff

Parts: 2/?

Summary: After your boss, Jisu–head wedding planner at Ornate Events–develops a ragweed allergy, you are put in charge of working with the florist company In Bloom. But instead of their top-notch flower arrangements, their incredibly radiant owner Jung Hoseok proves to be what catches your eye over the course of the months that follow.

Salted Caramel by @your-miss-right

Genre: fluff

Parts: 9/?

Summary: She liked him…a lot and she just wanted to get the point across. Too bad the wrong guy got it. Note to self: Check orders before writing little notes to the wrong customer!

Starfire by @readyplayerhobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: The schism that broke the galaxy began, as it usually does, over a disagreement. The resultant civil war has raged for hundreds of years. When a ragtag group of travellers discovers something that could turn the tide of war, for good or for worse, the bonds of friendship and love will be tested.

Note: ok but basically just read all of Tali’s Hoseok series sdjfakjaf

Wall to Wall by @winetae

Genre: smut

Parts: 1/4

Summary: Temporary popularity is the biggest threat to your career right now. Without a solid core fan base you’re doomed to be forgotten. If not now, then in a month or two, and if not then, surely by the end of the year. That’s how quickly the adult film industry cycles through their actors, especially when you’re a woman. Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

 

 

COMPLETE

By Its Cover by @crystaljins

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 8/8

Summary: Your annoying little brother Jimin accepts a dare and summons a demon into your living room. There are multiple problems with this. 1) Demons are the most hated species on earth. 2) That demon happens to be Jung Hoseok, the most popular guy on campus 3) The fact that Jung Hoseok is a demon is his biggest secret and 4) Jung Hoseok hates your guts. You’re in for a wild ride.

Life in the Fast Lane by @sugaxjpg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 1/3

Summary: Hoseok was not someone who expected to find love, even less under the conditions he met you—bleeding to death in an alley, unable to go to an hospital without being recognized by the ones who did such thing to him. Though, he would soon learn that the best things in life are the unplanned, kind ones. Especially the kind ones.

The Black Book by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: smut

Parts: 9/-- (discontinued)

Summary: Being personal assistant involves doing a lot of different tasks for your boss Jung Hoseok–including setting up his rendezvous with his black book clientele.

The Gentlemen’s Club by @brookelegend

Genre: smut

Parts: 15/15 + Epilogue + author’s note + drabbles

Summary: You’ve been in a dating drought, more specifically, a sex drought. Your best friend has the perfect remedy for your problem: The Gentlemen’s Club.

 

 

ONGOING

Contraband by @leadermon

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 11/?

Summary: If you had known what you had known now, would you have gone? If you knew who you would meet, the boy with the bright orange hair, and how getting wrapped up in him would tear all your brother had built to the ground, would you have gone?

Crossroads by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You summon Park Jimin, the crossroads demon who rather than taking your soul and granting you wish, wants to become an extremely annoying life companion.

induratize by @hobiwonder

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 5/?

Summary: Prince Jimin had grown up despising people from your empire and vice versa. When your father weds you to the crowned Prince of Haelyra, your kingdom’s sworn enemies, as a form of alliance to fight a greater evil, you struggle to make sense of your new life as the future Queen to be and deal with a husband who cannot stand you.

Jealousy Games by @avveh

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: You decide to play a game of push and pull with your ex Jungkook, bringing Jimin along for the ride.

 

 

COMPLETE

Handyman by @drquinzelharleen

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 5/5

Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive?

I’ll Never Be Her by @anon-luv

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 5/5 + Epilogue + drabbles

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his. Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around. She was his ex girlfriend,  his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back. He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all. At least for now.

Neighbors by @jkeuphoriadreamland

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 7/7 + Epilogue

Summary: Finally achieving your successes in life you never expected the distraction that came with your new hot neighbor. He however, had been trying to get your attention for a much different reason.

Nine One One by @yminie

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: When murder and crime threaten the city of Seoul, there’s a team in place to help keep the public safe, but just what do you do when all your training is to help others, and the one that needs help is actually you?

Limerence by @jiminscenarios

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 14/14 + Epilogue

Summary: He was a coldhearted asshole and the leader of South Korea’s most wanted gang, whereas she was an innocent and kind college student. They were polar opposites, yet he was so infatuated with her. But opposites are supposed to attract after all, aren’t they?

Love Yourself Trilogy by @threeletterslife

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 3/3

Summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda… but when life throws you curveballs, it is what it fucking is.

 

 

ONGOING

Begin Again by @writtenyoongi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: Things had been tough since your divorce from yoongi, you were still heartbroken over losing him whilst trying to balance being a single mother and providing the best you could for your daughter. When Kim Taehyung enters your life you start to learn how to love again, but the beautiful man is not without his own source of heartbreak.

The Client by @jungkookiebus

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Your services applied to many types of people and you were good at what you did, delivering sexual fantasies. This particular client happens to be your personal favorite for more reasons than one.

Van Gogh by @btsjeonjazz

Genre: smut

Parts: 1/?

Summary: Who would have guessed that Kim Taehyung, honorable student and your tutor, had some dark secrets?

V2 by @honeyedhoseok

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/12

Summary: This series is reader-insert revolving around Taehyung and his long-term surreptitious relationship with Y/N. 

When You Least Expect It by @johobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 12/15 + drabble

Summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

 

 

COMPLETE

Change by @junghelioseok

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 9/9 + Epilogue

Summary: A kind, handsome stranger makes you question your deteriorating relationship. 

One Good Purr (Deserves Another) by @jinpire

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 4/4

Summary: Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to visit Taehyung just before your heat. (Or to ask if his best friend was available.)

Summer Love by @analovegirl

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/3

Summary: It was Summer when he lost his whole world, his family and his identity. And it’s summer again when he comes across the girl he swore was his enemy. Join Taehyung, as he tries to find his true identity– as a human and as a merman, along with the mystery of his parent’s demise.

The Chrysanthemum Effect by @rosaetae

Genre: angst

Parts: 10/10 + Epilogue

Summary: Keeping your flowers, keeping your pain— it’s already everything you need to move on. How do you move on from things if you’re not willing to accept them?

Yarn by @dreamhimcloser

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 2/2

Summary: The mere idea that someone will kiss you while you slept made you shiver with disgust, but your educators promised you time and time again that this is exactly how you reach true love.

 

 

ONGOING

Block Party by @minlucent

Genre: smut

Parts: 2/?

Summary: Moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake.

Employee Perks by @chiminiemoans

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 3/?

Summary: Sure, the employee perks at your job were bonuses, life insurance, sick leave, health benefits etc. etc., but the best employee perk of all was working with a man known as Jeon Jungkook.

In Debt by @ichirakukpop

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 2/?

Summary: All your life you’ve been taken care of by your rich father and his money, but when a someone named Jungkook barges into your home demanding for his money back, your life is turned upside down.

Serendipity by @rohobi

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 10/13

Summary: The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. After forgetting to click out of his pornhub incognito tab last night, you find yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook at 3am watching the rest of it.

 

COMPLETE

Anima Meaology by @arckook

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 4/4 + Epilogue

Summary: Your best friend was never supposed to know that his name was on your wrist.

Falling Skies by @fortunexkookie

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/6 + drabbles + spinoff oneshot

Summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely.

Goldilocks by @perpetually-jungshook

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 10/10 + drabble

Summary: After getting evicted, your two best friends Jimin and Taehyung offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Needless to say, with a part time job and a mountain of student debt, that’s not happening any time soon. Eventually, they DO become really fond of having you around, helping with chores and even splitting rent. So when you come home one day to find someone has been sleeping in your couch-bed, well… it’s something you won’t take lightly.

Oath by @bangtan-yeonghon

Genre: angst

Parts: 33/33

Summary: What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow?

Watch Me Babygirl by @lunarimagines

Genre: fluff, smut

Parts: 20/20

Summary: Jungkook is your brother’s annoying best friend. You can’t stand him but he just can’t resist teasing you. How far will he actually go?

Will You? by @jungee

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 2/2

Summary: Jungkook + you = prom dates??

 

 

ONGOING

Bangtan Crossing by @mintedmango

Genre: fluff

Parts: 4/?

Summary: You step off the train in the quiet of dusk with a relieved sigh, just looking at the awakening of some stars and the bottoms of trees of this countryside town in awe. It was so different from the city, so dark at night, not lit up by thousands of street lamps and buildings turned on in the wee hours of the evening.

Lifeline by @forgottenpasta

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

Lueur De Lune by faery_kth (AO3)

Genre: fluff

Parts: 5/?

Summary: Your recent move has caused a lot of stress and you decide to take a stroll by the little lake behind your house only to find the moon and her fallen star.

Over the Moon by @threeletterslife

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 6/8

Summary: You feel isolated in the vast American country with no one but your older brother and your six rowdy friends to keep you company. But when they disappear without a trace, you’re left with nothing. Nothing until you become dragged into the world of the mob. The mafia world promises glory, fame and big bucks. But that comes with backstabbing, pain, regret and vengeance behind the veils. You’re not ready for that alone. Are you?

Potions, Magic, And Otherworldly Charmers by agentlemanshat (AO3)

Genre: fluff

Parts: 3/7

Summary: Have you ever imagined Namjoon as a high-end witch? Jungkook as a werewolf or Jimin as a merman? And a magical world full of possibilities? Well, look no further! Because here is where it happens.

Twisted Tails by @kmseokjins

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 4/?

Summary: After the death of your older sister, you're suddenly entrusted with her two hybrids. Who knew that following your sister's wishes would eventually turn your life upside down.

Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Genre: angst, smut

Parts: 6/?

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

 

 

COMPLETE

A Fairy Tale’s End by @bangtan-dreamland

Genre: angst, fluff

Parts: 8/8 + Epilogue

Summary: You wanted, for once, to be someone important, someone needed- to be wanted and appreciated, to love and be loved. Well, you should be careful what you wish for.

College by @btslibrary

Genre: smut

Parts: 7/7

Summary: A 7-part BTS smut series.

Hybrid House by @hollyhomburg

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

Parts: 3/3 + Epilogue

Summary: To Seokjin, Home consists of his human partners Namjoon and Hoseok as well as their Hybrids; the pups- named Taehyung and Jimin, their black cat- called Yoongi, and their foxboy- called Jungkook. Together they have the happiest family possible, everyone loves everyone equally. So what happens when Namjoon finds you? A cat hybrid, beaten close to death left alone in an alleyway on the coldest night of the year? He takes you home, shows you his family, and together they teach you what love can be like.

 

 

  

 congratulations you made it to the end....lol. enjoy all these fics and give the authors lots of love, okay? 🧡

[marvel-wlw]

Another Survivor (2/?)

Claire Redfield x Ada Wong x OFC

Requested by: @blackwidowfan517

Request: Maybe for part 2 of Another Survivor it could about Maya and Claire entering the hallway from the Reception area where they found two dead officers that were killed by a Licker before continuing on until they arrived at the West Office where they took care of the zombies and explored the office. Maya would find her desk and solve the puzzle to unlock it and found an upgrade part for the Samurai Edge. (Maybe add a scene where Maya finds a spade door and made a comment saying, "Huh...what a weird fucking door.") And as they explore around other rooms, Maya and Claire would get to know each other better and Claire would learn that the jacket Maya was always wearing had originally belong to the reader. (Maybe add a flashback scene where the reader gave Maya her jacket?)when they arrived at the men's locker room only to find that the path to the shower room is blocked off by hot steam and Maya would make a comment saying, "Aw, come on! Seriously, who's the jackass that fucked this place up?" And Claire would find a portable safe box and she would try to solve it but has no luck until Maya quickly solved the puzzle and opened the safe box. When Maya and Claire head up to the 3rd floor, that was when they saw a glimpse of the Licker passing by the window and on the way down the hall that was when Maya had noticed a note left by David regarding the Licker and she would read it. And when they entered the storage room, that was when Maya found another note written by someone else, which would cause Maya to frown a bit when she realized the note was possibly written by Chief Irons as she kept the note with her before leaving the room with Claire as they entered the Library where Marvin would contact them via radio, telling them to meet him at the Main Hall. (Maybe add a scene where Claire was about to check out the room that leads to the Main Hall on the 3rd floor but the bridge that leads to it broke down cause Claire to fall but Maya quickly managed to grab her by her wrist before pulling her up to safety?)After getting the Unicorn medallion and the red book, Maya and Claire would head back to the Main Hall where they learn from Marvin that Leon was outside in the Courtyard waiting by the gate on the East Side.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Resident Evil.

Part one

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Resident Evil.

Tag list: @casey-anne-j ​​ @softgamerking ​​ @morbid-gaymer ​​ @geekycatlover ​​ @rainydaysrnevergrey​​ @natalia-helena-alianova-romanov @alphalesbianwolf ​​  @dykse​​ @autumnjackson4​​ @1-danid ​​ @dynnealberto  @natasharomanoffswife ​​​ @aquariuslavenderhoney ​​ @spywidownat @nctxrejects

You Want S.T.A.R.S.? I'll Give You S.T.A.R.S. series.

A/N: I hope you guys like it! 😊 This gif isn't mine, credit goes to whoever made it! Also italics will be used for flashbacks or thoughts and also notes.

Maya slowly walked ahead of Claire, gun held in front of her just in case. They enter the hallway from the Reception area, what they saw made them freeze as their blood ran cold from the sight.

As they slowly made their way closer Maya knelt down next to the body of one of the two dead officers.

"Oh god." Maya whispered in horror. She stood up and looked at the dead officer that was hanging from a pipe. What the hell could've done this?

Taking a few deep breaths Maya and Claire continue on. After they climbed through the window and landed in another hallway they quickly take out some zombies in their way.

Once the coast was clear Maya let's out a sigh. She looked over at Claire. "You okay?"

Claire nods. "I'm okay, you?"

"I'm okay." Maya gives Claire a small smile.

Maya looked around and noticed the West Office. "Let's check of the West Office, see if we can find anything."

Claire nods in agreement. The two of then carefully enter the office and taking out the two zombies in the room. Once the zombies were taken care of Claire and Maya walk around the office.

That was when Maya found her desk. She tilts her head to the side slightly as she noticed there was some sort of puzzle that she she had to solve to unlock her desk.

Sighing she grabbed the note and read it. Once she did she quickly solved the puzzle and unlocked her desk. When it was unlocked she found an upgrade for her sister's Samurai Edge.

She smiled and put the upgrade on her Samurai Edge. Maya began to walk around the office a bit more and that was when she noticed the door that most likely lead back to the main hall.

But the door had a spade symbol on it. She tried to open it but it was locked. "Huh... what a weird fucking door."

xxxxx

As Maya and Claire explore around the other rooms, they both got to know each other better.

"Nice jacket." Maya said to Claire.

She smiled. "Thanks, Chris gave it to me." She looked over at Maya. "I like your jacket too."

Maya looked down, she smiled. "Thanks, (Y/N) gave it to me. It was her jacket."

xxxxx

Maya took a deep breath and knock on the door to her sister's apartment. Both Hailee and (Y/N) had shared the apartment but when Hailee was killed (Y/N) was moving in with Jill.

Maya understand when you were moving. Too many painful memories, even though they were all good memories, it would've been hard to stay in the apartment.

(Y/N) opened the door, she gave her younger sister a small smile and let her inside. Maya could tell she had been crying by how red and puffy her eyes were.

Once the door was closed (Y/N) went over to Maya and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I wanted you to come over because I wanted to give you something."

"Sis, you don't need to give me anything." Maya tried to tell her.

(Y/N) just gave her sister and smile. "I want you to have this and I'm not taking no for an answer." She grabbed the gift and went over to Maya, she held it out to her.

Maya looked at it before looking back at (Y/N), she nods and motions for her to take it. Sighing she took the gift, it was in one of those boxes you would get from a clothing store.

She slowly opened the box and gasped when she saw what was inside. She looked at (Y/N) before taking out the jacket. It was (Y/N)'s favorite jacket, there wasn't a moment she hadn't wore it.

"But sis, this is your favorite jacket... I can't accept this." Maya tried to hand it back to her.

(Y/N) shook her head. "Maya I want you to have it, please."

She knew there was no way out of taking the jacket, sighing she put on the jacket to try it on.

She looked at (Y/N) who had a smile on her face. "See Maya, it fits you perfectly!"

xxxxx

Claire and Maya slowly make their way into the men's locker room only to find the path to the shower room is blocked off by hot steam.

"Aw, come on!" Maya groans. "Seriously, who's the jackass that fucked this place up?"

While Maya was opening one of the lockers Claire had found a portable safe box. She tried to solve it but she didn't have any luck.

"Hey Maya take a look at what I found." Claire called over to Maya.

Maya walked over to Claire, curious as to what she found. "Hm, let me see if I can solve it."

Claire hands Maya the portable safe box. After a little bit Maya was able to solve the puzzle and open the safe box.

When they make their to the third floor Maya had noticed something on the desk. She went over to it and saw a spade key.

"This will definitely come in handy." Maya grabbed the key and handed it to Claire.

Claire and Maya walk through the door but freeze when they saw something pass by the window. After a few seconds they continued on.

When they went down the hall Maya had noticed a note. She went over and read it. It was by someone named David.

To any survivors,

Consider this a gift for anyone still unfortunate enough to be alive.

Keep your eyes peeled for thise creepy fucks that looked like they were skinned alive- "lickers," we call 'em. They're blind as bats, but their hearing more than makes up for that.

So long as you don't run around like a total idiot, guns a-blazing, you should be able to slip right by them... probably.

Either way, make like my grandma and creep around as slow as possible around 'em, yeah?

Anyway, not that I wanna go, but duty calls. That, and I've got a friend to avenge. - David

"So those things are called Lickers. Good to know." Maya shows Claire the note.

The two of them walked into the storage room. By the look of the room both Maya and Claire to scrunch up their noses.

Walking through the room Maya had found another note. But this note was written by someone else.

Damn those corporate assholes! They cut me off! After all I've done for them! But if that's how it's gonna be, so be it. I'm gonna have a little fun of my own as the world goes to shit.

I boarded all those filthy pigs up in a steel pen, and set some C4. All I gotta is detonate it and it's "sayonara suckers!"

But it's no fun if it's over too soon, so maybe I'll give that one raving loon something to really squeal about.

Yeah, maybe I'll give him a little toy and tell him, "Kill the guy next to you and I'll spare the others." I wonder what he'll do.

You yell about "justice" and "pride" but how many times did you go against me, your own superior?

Yeah, you're such a good cop... So good you had to die.

Man is this fun. I need some music for this.

After reading the note Maya frowned a bit once she realized the note was possibly written by Chief Irons. She decided to keep the note with her.

Soon after Maya put the note away, her and Claire left the room and entered the Library. Suddenly the radio went off and they heard Marvin. He told them to meet him back at the Main Hall.

Claire walked towards the door on the left. "I'm going to check of what's behind this door real quick."

It all happened so fast. As soon as Claire set foot on a certain part on the floor it broke. Causing Claire to fall but Maya was right behind her and she quickly managed to grab her by her wrist. Maya quickly pulled Claire to safety. But Claire ended up landing onto of Maya, their faces were so close together.

"Y-You okay?" She asked Claire, Maya started to become flustered by the position they were in.

She nods, blushing. "Yea... yea I'm okay. Thanks Maya."

Maya blushed even more. "D-Don't mention it."

After Maya helped Claire stand up they both went to get the Unicorn medallion and they also found a red book. Once they had those two things they started to head back to the Main Hall.

"Hey you two." Marvin greets them, trying to hid his pain. "Look at this."

Claire and Maya look at the camera feed and they're really relieved to see Lean. "Well shit. He finally made it." Maya said.

"You two know him?"

Claire nods. "That's Leon Kennedy."

Marvin nods. "Ah, the other rookie. I thought he looked familiar." He move a bit. "He's at the gate on the East Side."

After Marvin told them how to get to the East Side gate Maya and Claire give each other a smile before making their way to meet up with Leon.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “Psych Eval.”

I know some of you were hoping for the stuff going on in between, but I needed to get us moving for purposes related to the 23rd, so I think you guys can forgive me. I hope you like it.

A lot of you were calling for something similar to happen, so I hope it all works out.  The last little bit was super fun to write. 

Dr. Adric Jakande wasn’t entirely sure what he had signed up for. When he had moved from The coastal African provinces, it had been to attend the school of his dreams, and from there his path had led him to the UNSC where he had spent most of his time counseling veterans of the Panasian war. Then a letter had come across his desk looking for volunteers brave enough to take on a very new, and dangerous mission. 

He had planned on ignoring it because his life here was stable and comfortable, but there was something about it he just couldn’t get out of his head.

It would be the hardest thing he had ever done: and it wouldn’t be just humans he would be dealing with.

Somehow, however, he found himself writing his name on the contract that signed away five years of his life to the crew of the Harbinger.

There was no turning back now, so might as well get to work.

He wanted to understand the dynamic of the ship and so had filtered through a hundred or more psychological evals. He didn’t read them all, and he wouldn't interview them all, but there were a select handful he was very interested in, and planned to take a look at himself.

He pressed the button on his desk causing the call light above the door to blink on in green inviting his first patient into the office. Footsteps followed, and a young marine, not too much younger than himself, slipped into the room walking over and sprawling out in the seat across from him, a smile pulled taught over his olive-tan face.

“Cprl. Angel Ramirez?”

“Yes, Sir, that’s me.”

He glanced down at the stats on the eval. The corporal seemed in pretty good shape except, “Tell me corporal, on your evaluation you reported higher elvels of anxiety than normal, Would you be willing to tell me why?” The corporal sat up sraighter his dark amber eyes narrowing a little.as he thought.

“Well, sir…. It has nothing to do with me really…. But a friend of mine has been having some problems lately, and I’m not sure if he will be able to get it together before we are on our way. It would pretty much ruin my life if he was….uh…. Not allowed to com .”

“Ruin your life? That seems pretty serious.”

He shrugged, “He holds the ship together, everyone loves him, and I don’t think we would make it in deep space without him.”

“Do you find deep space to be mentally taxing?”

He frowned a bit forced to think about it, “No, not really but I think that has to do with this friend of mine. He does a lot of stuff to get us to come together, activities, holidays, group meals, it really keeps crew morale and I’m not sure we would have it without him.”

“Is there anything particularly bothering you corporal, besides that/”

“No, I guess I miss my family a little, but I was just there, so that is expected. I’ll video chat them from orbit, so it will all be cool.”

He let the corporal go with a nod. The man was stable, happy, and well-adjusted. He would use him as a baseline.

The call light came on again, and another figure stepped into the room, at first he assumed they were a man, though turning around he could see that wasn’t the case. She had very short hair, and a face that could have gone either way, not unpleasant just different.

She took a stiff seat in the chair opposite him.

“Sgt Maverick Morozov…. Russian?”

“My family was a long time ago.”

“Says here you are the ship’s Chaplain.”

“Yes, sir/”

“Do you have a lot of work on the ship?”

“Not really sir, most of the crew is Agnostic, though some come and visit me to talk, though now that you’re aboard the ship that will probably trickle off.”

“Does this bother you?”

“No, not really. I will help people if they need it, but I don’t actively try to solve other people’s personal problems.”

“I am assuming you have a good relationship with your religion?”

“Yes sir, it saved my life once.”

“Do you think this has helped you cope with being in deep space?” 

“Deep space feels safe to me/”

“Why is that.”

She shrugged, “I don’t know, its one of those feelings like maybe nothing has touched that place other than you and the will of some kind of creator. Space isn’t malevolent to me, its empty and dark-- in a comforting way.”

“Do you often experience malevolent things when you aren’t in space?” She paused frowning, “This makes me sound insane doesn’t it, but yeah, and don’t ask me why I don’t know. It doesn’t bother me that much, I can handle it, I just don’t like to.”

Interesting, he would have to take a look into that later.

“And your reported anxiety levels have been high lately. Why is that?”

“On the behalf of a friend of mine.”

Interesting.

“Someone on his ship.”

“Yes sir, if he can’t come with us, I will probably quit.”

“That’s a lot of loyalty.”

“I’ve no doubt he would do the same for all of us, so….. Yeah.”

He let her go thinking about this friend of there who seemed so important to them. He had no doubt she was talking about the same person they all were. He had picked this group of people very intentionally.

The door opened again, and a very, very large figure ducked through the doorway. Adric had to sit back in his seat to contain the surprise. The Drev was HUGE, he had never seen one in person before, and this creature was just massive. Six limbs, and bright red carapace. It almost had to duck to avoid hitting its head on the ceiling.

It ignored the chair, which made sense, and happily kneeled on the floor before his desk still coming into eye level with him even as he sat on his chair.

“Kanan?”

“Yes Kanan Lumnus’s son though all my human friends call me Cannon.”

“Forgive me, I have never interviewed a Drev before.”

“I have never been psychologically evaluated either, so I suppose we share a commonality.”

“Your file is a little sparse, but it says here you were a veteran of the Drev war, and that you were injured during that time. Do you experience any psychological symptoms related to the event.

“Not to the war itself, Drev don’t respond to trauma like humans, mostly because we do not perceive it as trauma. The worst part came after the war when I was exiled.”

He blinked, “Exiled?”

“Yes, i received a grievous injury during the war and my mother banished me from the clan to sacrifice myself to the burning spirits.”

He simply blinked, “Your mother wanted you to……”

“Throw myself into the volcano.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No I betrayed our traditions and left Anin. I nearly died starving a month later, but the humans took kindness on me, and I was recovered.”

“Feel free not to answer this question, but it says here that your…. Mate died during the war.”

His golden eyes saddened a bit, “She did, but she died in glorious combat, so I am not sad for her death. I am sad because of how little time I got to spend with her. Nechal and I would have had a strong brood, but we never got the chance.”

“How does this affect your daily life?”

He shrugged, “It does not, but i think about her sometimes at night before I sleep. And I do my best to honor her memory, and the memory of my father who died during the war as well.”

The Drev had plenty to be psychologically unstable about, but otherwise he seemed fine. He wasn’t sure yet just what a stable Drev looked like though, so he would have to do some more digging, “Thank you, Cannon, you may go.” 

He met with a few other humans before moving on to his next patient Both of the humans were fine aside from concerns abut this unnamed friend of theirs, which seemed to be a recurring theme.

The door opened again  and looked over confused at first when he did not see anyone , however a sharp scuttling across the floor caused him to look over his desk where a small, almost spider like alien was skittering across the floor.

As he watched it inflated a flap of skin at the back of it’s head and floated up onto the chair turning to face him. Its large orange prismatic eyes watched him cooly.

“Dr. Krill.”

“Yes, and you are Dr. Jakande.”

He glanced down at his paper and blew out through his cheeks. He wasn’t sure how to go about this. The anxiety this creature was experiencing nearly broke their scale, and on a scale of neuroticism he almost broke that as well. If he saw this in a person he would be very concerned.

“You seem anxious, doctor.”

“I am always anxious, it is a proclivity of my species. If you want an accurate reading on your test, you should lower the levels to a halfway point”

He glanced down at his paper, “That is still pretty high.”

“I am the commanding physician on a ship where all you humans are bent on getting yourselves killed, and even when you  aren't I have to worry about whether or not you will choke on a grape because your larynx are so poorly placed. I am constantly surrounded by creatures that don’t understand the meaning of caution.” he looked very seriously at Adric just then, “These are my humans and I do not want any of them to die if I can help it though they seem to defy me at every opportunity.”

“Your humans?”

“Yes , my humans, my responsibility therefore they are all MINE.”

Ok this little guy was a bit on the crazy side. If he saw this out of a human he would be concerned, but i the creature was already prone to neuroticism than he wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

“Not to mention a friend of mine may not be returning to the ship, and if he doesn’t I will be out of a job.”

He paused, there was mention f that friend again, “Why would you be out of a job?”

“Because he is the only reason I am on this ship in the first place. He holds my loyalty.

Very interesting.

He let the little doctor go taking mental notes to talk more with him later.

A woman stepped into the room next,her long dark hair falling about her shoulders, large glasses glittering in the overhead lights as she adjusted her coat.

“Dr. Katie Keddrick you are the second attending physician on the Harbinger.”

“Yes, I was brought in to ease some of the burden from Dr. Krill.”

“And how are you coping with that.”

“Oh I am doing very well. I love it aboard the ship. Its just one big family honestly, very nice and homey.”

“That ‘s good. Tell me is your reported anxiety to do with a friend of yours who may or may not be able to return to the ship?”

The doctor paused her eyes wide, “How did you know.”

“A common theme.”

“Well yeah actually. He has a tendency to take all the burden on his own shoulders, so he doesnt cause issue to anyone else. He likes to control things though I don’t think he knows that. It never bothers any of us, but it is getting to him, and we are all worried that they won’t let him through.”

“This friend means a lot to you.”

“He brought our little family together, so yes.”

“You see the crew as family.” 

She smiled, “Well doctor, yes but you will find that out there in the galaxy humanity survives by creating families. Everything that makes us human is magnified under the lens of space, our power our weakness, our goods and our bads.”

He talked with her a little more, she was intelligent and insightful about the workings of the crew, information that he found valuable before letting her go.

He only had one more evaluation before the big one.

This Drev dd not have to duck through the door as she came in. She was very small though the color of her carapace was a pleasant electric blue. She was able to seat herself on the chair tilting her head to look at him.

He wasn’t sure what to make of her evaluation.

“Chalan.”

“Call me Sunny.” 

“Chief weapons officer.”

“Yes.”

“I am going to be honest, I was not sure what to make of your evaluation. You come across as someone trying very hard to prove they aren't affected by something very important.”

She tiled her head. She had the same gold eyes as the other Drev, “My mother didn’t like how short I was, or that I was not as talented as my brother, she treated me poorly and my father died during the war, so forgive me if I still have some unresolved conflicts.”

Very blunt, interesting.

“”How do you cope with those.”

“I remind myself that I beat my mother in open combat, also I have friends now.”

Hmm yeah they were going to have to talk some more for sure. This was less of a healed kind of thing and more of a stick it to the man sort of attitude. She was still trying to prove something, probably more to herself than to others.

“And you are anxious about a friend of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if he does not board this ship again, I don’ think he will live to see next year, and if that happens, I doubt I will either.”

That was…. that was kind of concerning and intense.

“Who is this friend of yours.”

She shook her head, “No, I will not be telling you.”

Aggressive loyalty, very, very interesting.

He tried prodding a little more out of her, but she didn’t budge, and he eventually let it go allowing her to leave.

He had one more evaluation…. The big one.

***

It was late, this evaluation had been scheduled for the last possible second, and he was curious to see what would come through those doors. He heard the clatter of UNSC issued dress shoes long before he saw anything coming steadily up the hall. He left the light on, and waited at his desk for the person to pass through the doors.

It paused outside his door and then slowly opened inward.

The light fell on a man much, much younger than he had expected. In fact, he could have passed for early twenties, if the uniform he wore hadn’t suggested at least seven years of service, which would make him, at minimum, in his mid twenties. He wore the uniform well, almsot comfortably as he crossed the room.

The look on his face was pleasant like it was just about to break into a smile. His one visible green eye was curious flickering around the room with some interest.

He made his way to the desk and held out a hand, “Dr.”

He took it, the grip was strong, “Commander.”

He sat in the seat just opposite and Dr Adric stared at the eye patch that covered his other eye.

He nodded to it, “I thought you had a mechanical eye.

“I do.” He said softly lifting the eyepatch up, so he could see the workings of the cold metal ball and its black aperture.

“Why do you still wear an eye patch?”

“Because, the eye has better vision than my normal one, and it can be overwhelming. I generally only use it when I need binocular vision.”

“Why not just shut it off, why wear the eye patch.”

He paused thinking head tilted, “It was a gift from a friend after losing the eye in a moment where I wasn’t sure I would make it through the injury. It lightened things up for me reminded me that there is always a way through.” He smiled, “Plus I think it makes me look dashing.”

The two of them laughed together for a moment.

“Why did you call extended leave like this, commander.”

HE sighed leaning back in his seat, “I had to work on myself for the good of the crew. I mean I saw how surprised you were, probably based on how young I am, right? Well due to that I am a novice at leading. I haven't had the time to cultivate how things work when commanding a crew, and I have made some mistakes that have almost cost me my job in the past.”

He listened.

“People tell me I shoulder too much burden and take on too much guilt. I recently learned that I have a tough time relinquishing control on things.”

“Why is that/ Do you often feel out of control.”

“No, but I think that’s why. The last time I was out of control is when I was a child and didn’t know how to fix it, so I assume bad habits formed from there.”

“Your family was stable?”

“Yes very, but school was…. Less than easy for me. I joined the flight academy after my freshman year of high school, so I don’t think I really had the life experience that most other people do when it comes to interacting with people my own age. The point is moot now, but it did hold e back a little maturity wise, I think.”

“You left due to extreme anxiety and stress?”

“Yes, I wasn’t handling it well.”

“And how are you doing now. I don’t see any records here saying you went to see someone .”

The man sighed, and for the first time Dr Adric noticed the German Shepherd sitting at the man’s side resting her head in his lap. She was wearing a service vest.

“I didn’t. I have done therapy before but the first time it didn’t work and the second time I was left with more questions than answers.” He patted the dog’s head, “She helped me the most and I decided that it might be prudent for me to try other avenues. I realized while I was gone that I was neglecting time for myself, and so I have developed a schedule to combat this.”

“Oh.”

“My average working day should be around nine hours, I only need about six hours of sleep. IN that case that gives me eight hours of free time, one of those I will use for exercise in the morning, and another for flight time.”

“Flight time?”

“My greatest stress relief, there is no better way to feel in control in an out o control way than flying, so I have worked it into my schedule and into budget in some way or another so that I can do what this fleet and the UNSC needs.”

“So, you have given up some responsibility, found yourself some free time, discovered stress relieving alternatives. Have you changed the way that you command in general?”

“I have made some changes to the command structure including a panel of advisors, which was just a good idea anyway.”

“You talked about maturity in your earlier statement. Do you feel that has increased much in the past few months?”

The man smiled and sighed, “As it turns out doc, that is the one thing I couldn’t fix at least in part.”

“Oh?”

“I can handle conflict and  issues like an adult, but I have decided that some of that isn’t a maturity thing, it is simply a product of personality. So if the UNSC has an issue with a commander that makes too many  Star Wars’ references  and listens to 2000 year old rock music on the bridge, then I guess maybe I am not the man for the job.”

They talked a bit more until eventually Dr Adric stood.

The commander followed, he looked openly nervous now, though that was to be expected, this was the moment of truth.

Dr. Adric held out a hand, and the commander took it tentatively though his grip was still strong.

“I look forward to working with you and your crew.”

The near smile broke on the man’s face into a pleasant grin that sent little crinkly lines up through his eyes. 

“You are in for a good time, Dr. Make sure to read the rules before you come aboard”

Dr Adric stood confused for a moment before glancing down at his hand.

He had not noticed the Commander slip him the folded piece of paper. He glanced up towards the door as the man’s foot vanished around the corner.

He stood in stunned silence for a moment before looking down and tentatively opening the note.

Welcome Dr. Adric Jakande to the UNSC Harbinger,

On behalf of my crew, we look forward to having you, and I am pleased that you are here to help my men with whatever they may need. You will be an amazing asset to our team.

There are a few ground rules I would like to lay out first. Of course, you know the UNSC code of conduct which  I will not repeat, but I have a few personal rules that will make our lives all the much easier.

Rule number 1: Don’t chuck Marshmallows at Neutron Stars.