#almost done with all the pocket watch related drawings (probably a lie) one more drawing idea left

[sw4nfire]

a regretter's friend - the forbidden fruit

you became the me who you despised

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #joongdok #myarttt #almost done with all the pocket watch related drawings (probably a lie) one more drawing idea left

[p-antomime]

dawn addiction.

— minors don't interact.

— wc: 3,3K

content + warnings: 18+, including: car sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, public sex (kinda of), unprotected sex, tummy bulge, pet names (dabi actually calls the reader "princess"), virginity loss (only mentioned), i bit of fluff bye

pairings: no quirk!dabi x fem!reader

— song: Press Your Number; by TAEMIN

After waking up alone one dark night without you sleeping next to him in the spacious bed placed in the middle of his room, Dabi catches himself thinking about you and feeling strange without having your warm body next to his in the bed. Thinking about Y/N was becoming a vicious habit for him and it was the kind of addiction that the more he fed, the more it seemed to swallow his sanity. However, he didn't blame you for not wanting to be seen or related to him, in a small town like the two of you Touya was the delinquent that people avoided interacting with lest they be excluded from that closed society.

He stretches to the side in order to get his own phone from the small table placed on the side of his bed and finds himself standing there for a few seconds feeling the smell of your body that permeated the pillow next to him. After taking a deep inhale, Dabi unlocks his cell phone to try to call you, but there is no answer, after all, it was past 1:00 AM in the dawn and Y/N was now probably lying in her own bed in her house trying to sleep.

The dark haired man lets out an impatient grunt before dropping the cell phone on the bed. He was deeply rooted in you and, because of that, feeling like an insane madman who was insisting on something that couldn't be his. But what could he do but fall in love with you after kissing your lips countless times and spreading your legs dangerously wide for him before claiming your virginity as his?

And the end of that night, just like all the others where you would finish fucking and you would shamefully put on your clothes to go home, would be filled by him masturbating with the thought of your naked body running through his mind.

Touya could feel the warm temperature of yours with little mental effort with his own fingers and would cling to the fading memories of the few non-sexual moments you had shared over the past few months.

That night, Dabi slept when the sun was already up, but Y/N, on the other hand, didn't even sleep a wink. She couldn't even take a lousy nap, because her eyes were glued to her cell phone screen waiting to see if he would call her again because on the first call of the night she wasn't brave enough to answer knowing that her parents were half a wall away. A coward? Yes, that's what she was. But there was a perfect daughter demeanor that she needed to maintain, especially if she wanted to continue to nurture her father's idea of letting her start studying at a university in the metropolitan area of the country.

Y/N would turn twenty a week from today — and if her father's promise to give you a car came true, her plan was already halfway done — and she didn't want to be stuck in that small, rural town forever. She had big dreams, and, ironically, in most of them the fulminating image of Dabi was present beside her. What if she was the only one there who wanted to leave that life? What if he didn't want to leave with her? But more importantly, at what point had their relationship become so deep?

It was now 7 o'clock in the morning, which meant that in about two hours your parents would wake up to go to work. You took a deep breath and reached out to grab the cell phone lying next to you on the bed, and then began to type a message as brief and vague as possible to your lover:

"Pack up all your stuff by next Friday. Take everything that you think is important or of value to you, pack it up, and meet me on the other side of the bridge that leads to the avenue out of town, the side that has the rusty 'Welcome to our town' sign. At two o'clock in the morning. No delays. And please try not to draw too much attention, wear the most decent, neutral clothes you have in your closet. Oh, and bring documents."

And all week long you could barely look your parents in the face without feeling guilty for wanting to break free from their protective arms, but you just couldn't take it anymore. You hated that small town, and you also hated being forced to go to church every Thursday and Sunday with your mother because she said that God would "bless you with all your dreams come true," so why didn't he just indirectly help you leave that town behind? Literally, the only thing holding you back in that town was Touya and you wanted to take him with you outside the boundaries of that town that looked more like a village forgotten by the rest of the world.

Y/N's favorite place to be was Dabi's lips, and even then, the girl's replies to him by messages and short calls that didn't last more than 5 minutes started to decrease drastically. The useless monologues continue to increase inside her mind. Until the Thursday before her birthday when Y/N was about to fall asleep after standing for almost 2 hours listening to the local church mass hoping that her mother would not notice her slouching and irritable posture, suddenly a sound of something banging against her bedroom window was heard. And initially she didn't bother to get up to find out what had caused the noise, until she heard it twice more and frowned as she got out of bed after seeing that it was almost two o'clock in the dawn.

You drew the curtains in front of the window, opened it and stuck your head out, looking down and suddenly feeling your cheeks heat up violently. And there was Touya looking at you with a look of sorrow and animosity. He pointed in the direction of the hidden backyard behind your house where the two of you in the beginning of your relationship used to hide just to spend some time together or have a make-out session that ended up leaving both of you sexually frustrated because neither of you had the courage to have sex in that place where anyone could see you if you made too much noise. However, Dabi was the devil in your life worth sinning for.

— What the fuck are you doing here? — Y/N asked almost desperately as she felt Touya wrap one of his arms around her waist to glue their bodies together.

— What? Can't a man miss his beloved and want to go see her? — He asked, holding her face with his free hand. — You barely answer my messages.

— I told you we were going to meet tomorrow, on Friday. — You rested your hands on his chest to move away just enough to look him in the face.

— And about that, you're killing me with curiosity, princess. What are you thinking of doing tomorrow? It's your birthday. — Dabi commented, running his thumb along her bottom lip affectionately.

— I-I know. — You replied, looking away. — I was planning on... going out... with you. — You just didn't say it was going to be an out-of-town trip with no intention of coming back.

— What are you hiding? — He asked, leaning down to place a simple, tender kiss on her lips.

— Would you follow me wherever I went?

— I would follow you to the ends of hell if you asked me to. — Dabi answered, and instinctively you grabbed his face to place your lips back on theirs in a kiss deeper than the one before in a frenzy of feeling.

— Then do it. — Y/N whispered against his lips staring into his beautiful turquoise eyes. — For my birthday the only thing I ask from you is to always be by my side, I don't need material gifts.

Seconds after you finished speaking, the sound of footsteps inside your house could be heard, and a shiver ran down your back as your hands desperately pushed Dabi away in the direction of the very door through which the two of you had entered the yard.

— Damn, not even at dawn I... — Touya began to complain as he walked briskly away from you and disappeared into the darkness of the night to return to his house.

— Shhh, shut up. I'll see you at dawn. Two o'clock, don't forget. — You whispered loud enough for him to hear you as you turned back and faced the back door of your house slowly opening to reveal to you the sleepy figure of your father.

— Honey? — He asked, and you gasped as if you were distracted by something while you could hear your heart beating rapidly. — What are you doing out here? It's late? and cold, you might catch cold.

— I... — Y/N looked around just to make sure there was no more sign of Dabi. — I heard a noise here when I went down to get some water and just wanted to come down and see if it wasn't an animal or something. But it was nothing, I guess it was just my mind playing with me. — It was a good enough lie considering that it wasn't hard to wake up during the night to go to the bathroom or eat something from the fridge.

And then your father called you inside and you promptly went. As the day went on, not even your father's birthday present with the car seemed to quell the anxiety inside you of going to see Dabi in the middle of the night with no intention of coming home. Y/N packed three backpacks and after watching your parents go to sleep, put them all on the back seats of the car after grabbing the keys that your father had left on top of the coffee table in the living room, and also grabbing some money from your father's safe that was in a secluded room in the residence.

After writing a short, albeit long, letter explaining to her mother that she was going to the metropolitan city — but without saying with whom — to try a new life there and that you would be fine because "there were friends waiting for you there" — which was a big lie, but she didn't need to know that — Y/N put on a sweatshirt and ran out of her now former home. Remembering all the various driving lessons her mother had made her take last year, you put the key in the ignition and made sure that your license and other documents were in one of the pockets of the three backpacks on the back seats. And you set off across town to reach the end of the bridge that served as both a gateway into and out of the city, parking exactly beside the welcome sign.

After about fifteen minutes, you watched a silhouette approach through the darkness, and if you didn't recognize the blue-toned sweatshirt with white details that Dabi usually wore when he didn't want to attract attention, you would surely lock yourself inside your car for fear that it was some sexual predator. Before he could finish approaching you at the agreed upon spot and open his mouth to vocalize something, you ran toward him to jump into his arms and kiss him fervently like you hadn't done in almost two weeks. He didn't fight your grip and responded to your display of affection instantly, he missed your touch more than he would admit.

— Where are we going? — He asked, analyzing her new car as he watched you open the back seat door and gestured for him to put his own belongings inside.

— To the big city. — You answered unlocking the door next to the driver's seat after hearing Dabi choke on his own saliva looking at you as if he hadn't heard you correctly. — Come in. — Your head swiveled inward.

— What do you mean we're going to the city? What about your parents? You have a loving family here, I have nothing to lose, but you? — Dabi put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.

— I want to go to the city. I want to live with you. — Y/N replied feeling her cheeks heat up and looking at him expectantly. — You said you would go anywhere with me, to the ends of hell.

— And I will, but this decision... — You interrupted him.

— Please. For once in my life I want to do things my way. Without having to hide you from anyone, without having anyone judge me for being with you. Let's go to another city, live together, we'll figure it out when we get there. — You put one hand on his forearm, squeezing it gently.

Touya took a few seconds to process the information and after looking from you to the car, he said:

— Where are the keys? — You waved them in front of him, flashing an amused smile. — So get in the car, doll face. I'll drive. — He gave you a light slap on the butt before pushing you toward the driver's seat, getting into the car and putting the key in the ignition. — How long until we reach the city?

— About six hours, we can get there in the morning.

— Great. — Dabi started the car and began to drive along the deserted road while resting one hand on Y/N’s covered thigh and occasionally giving the area a gentle squeeze.

After about an hour of driving, you became distracted by fiddling with your cell phone until you noticed his long fingers sneaking up and over your thighs until they came dangerously close to Dabi's real intended destination. Her eyes cast a serious countenance at him as if she were silently saying: "Don't you dare" and in response his lips parted in a defiant smile as his hand on the steering wheel slowed and eventually brought the car to a full stop.

— C'mon. It's been almost two weeks since we had sex. — He said, lowering the two seats you were sitting on and pulling you to sit on his lap with your back against the steering wheel.

— And the best place you could find to have sex was inside my new car? — Despite your complaint, you didn't try to restrain his hands from reaching into your sweatshirt to grab and squeeze your breasts, nor did you object to the feeling of his knee pressing against the middle of your legs.

Touya lifts your arms and pulls up your sweatshirt and then concentrates on removing the simple tank top and lacy bra you were wearing, shortly after which he leans over your body to take one of your nipples between his lips to begin stimulating it. In response, you rub your hips against his leg as your hands grip his dark hair as a way to relieve the growing tension settling through your body. His hands slowly slid down your back, past your waist and into your pants, while his right hand also invaded your panties to run his fingers over your pussy lips and his left was busy opening the buttons of that garment.

Y/N put her hands on the hem of his sweatshirt, pulled it up, and was not surprised to see him with nothing underneath. Strangely enough, his skin was naturally too warm and it was not hard to believe that even with the low temperature outside the car he would only need a casual sweatshirt to not feel cold. And that was exactly why you liked so much to run your hands along his body exploring him calmly to make your touches last longer.

Dabi turned his body so that you were lying on the passenger seat and stood over you with a smug smile as his hands dug in and squeezed the skin of your legs after he finished getting rid of your pants with some difficulty because of the tight space.

— Keep your legs open for me or I won't let you cum, princess. — He whispered, sliding his mouth down her torso to her pelvis and pulling her hips up as high as possible before burying his fingers inside her pussy and enveloping her clit with his lips.

Y/N's hands gripped Touya's now messy hair and pushed his face against her hip in search of more of that mind-blowing pleasure she had missed for the few days she had been avoiding him. Suddenly the car became extremely hot, almost to the point where you both felt suffocated and ironically neither of you cared about that, not when Dabi was curving his fingers and sucking your clit in the way that always made your vision cloud and too loud moans escape your mouth. But, you didn't want to cum in his mouth, so your hands moved his face away from your hips and pulled his body up.

— Please, Touya, I need you inside me. — Her voice was slurred by her rapid breathing.

Dabi didn't need you to say anything else, he just stepped back briefly to get rid of the clothes that were still covering his lower body, adjusted your hips to his, leaned on the car door behind your body and guided his cock to the entrance of your pussy. As you felt him fill and enlarge you completely with his tip rubbing against your cervix, you groaned, leaning on his shoulders to face him and watching the small rise against your belly that was always present when that black haired man penetrated you.

Touya slid one hand down your neck and closed his fingers around your neck applying just the right amount of pressure to make waves of pleasure run through your body and not to hurt you. He began to move and Y/N passed her legs around his waist moving her body downward every time Dabi moved upward, occasionally he would take her lips on his just because he liked to feel her moans against his mouth and the rhythm of his hips gradually began to get harder and faster.

— I should cum inside you, hmm? — Touya asked, keeping eye contact with you every moment he thrust inside you again and making you clench your walls around his length without you even realizing it. — Damn, I love you so much, you have no idea what I would do for you.

— So show me. — You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was still resting on your neck and squeezed it without too much force. — Make me your girl.

With a smug and satisfied smile, he continued thrusting himself against her insides to the point where her hips began to ache just seconds before she reached her own orgasm with her nails digging into the skin of Touya's arm and her back arching as spasms coursed through her entire body at a high rate of speed. He gave a few thrusts against your pussy until the white streaks of cum painted your insides and slowly pulled out of you, wanting to prolong the feeling of having you squeeze him some more.

Dabi let his tired body fall back against the driver's seat and concentrated on stabilizing his breathing while you did the same as you looked up at him with the following thought running through your mind: "This is definitely the man I want to be with forever". The thought made your cheeks burn and it didn't go unnoticed by him:

— What? — One of his eyebrows arched.

— Nothing, I was just thinking... about you, about us. — You answered, starting to look around the car for your clothes, and an amused laugh came from Touya's mouth, who looked at you tenderly.

— So I'm always on your mind?

— More than you think, yes. — Y/N answered, leaning over to place a tender kiss at the corner of his lips. — Now get ready, get your clothes, let's get back on the road.

— Can we fuck again before we get to the city again? — Her eyes narrowed in disapproval.

— Shut up, you idiot.

#dabi smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bnha touya #touya smut #bnha dabi #mha dabi #i4nanami #bnha toya #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #bnha

[chikkampli]

Bittersweet.

Kokichi led me to a purple car that was among many other cars. They were all different sizes, shapes, and colors, they were all parked along side the road, and it was spanning all the way down it; but his was at the perfect spot with an even more perfect angle. Moonlight was softly grazing it, like a gentle kiss between two lovers. Soon, he let go of my sleeve and stood in front of it proudly. His chest was puffed out with his hands on his hips. He was standing like one of those superheroes, but his face looked like a 5 year old who was really proud of a drawing they made instead of a charismatic grin.

“Drumroll please!” he slouched and pretended to play the drums. “Dundundundundun...!” Kokichi then quickly spread his arms (which were gesturing at the car) and proudly declared, “Now... we're welcoming...theeeeeeee KOKICHI-MOBILE!”

I accidentally giggled, which made me blush and sputter out a small ‘sorry’. “It’s a pretty nice car,” I said while walking over to him.

“Of course it is, *I* made it!” Kokichi dug into his pocket and pulled out some keys, which I'm assuming was for his car. He unlocked it and then boasted, “And I decorated the interior. I know, it's just *so* great! Yeah, cry, it's okay. I know it's the best car interior you've ever seen. I don't blame you!”

We both knew the first part was a lie, but we didn't acknowledge that verbally. “Yeah,” was all I responded with before asking, “Have you been drinking? You seem sober but...”

“Psh, drinking’s for losers!” he stuck his nose up in the air in mock disgust. “I, on the other hand, am a Chad, and I am definitely sober. Watching all those drunk 16 to 18 year olds is like being at a comedy show thay gets really annoying as it drags on.”

“Then why’d you stay?”

“Why did *you* stay, Shuichi?” he put his hands on his hips and turned to face me. “I know sure as hell you're not drunk. Were you just there for shits n’ giggles? Wow, never expected that from *you*. I'm disappointed...”

...I should've expected that kind of answer. “You have a point,” I looked away, combing my hair with my fingers. “I came because Kaede asked me to.”

Kokichi nodded and hummed in response while he opened the door to the driver's seat. He sat in the previously mentioned seat, before looking at me dead in the eyes. “You look like a sad loner who’s severely depressed and has no social life. Get in!” he widened his eyes and gestured to the passenger's seat. I said nothing and did what I was told. Once I was in, I buckled my seat belt and sat back. When Kokichi said that the interior of his car was great, he wasn't lying. The seats were covered with a beautiful, beautiful and soft purple blanket; which was quite comfortable actually. There was a chain of di hanging from the thing connected to the rearview mirror (I can't really recall what it is called at the moment). They were all different sizes and had an assortment of colors. White, purple, gold, pretty much that palette. There were also othet decorations, but there were so many that I can't possibly name all of them! Well, he also had a bobble head of a lady. She had dark brown hair that was styled in a sort of half-up-half-down style. The front part of her hair was divided into two tight buns (which were held together with...spiky hair ties?) and the back was straight down. She had on ruby red lipstick and a green dress which were ruffled at the ends. It only went to about her mid-thigh. The lady also had these black boots/heels on. I focused on how her head bobbled after Kokichi started the car then started driving. The microphone in her left hand looked so small, probably the size of my fingernail — wait, why am I focusing on this? It's so minuscule, it has little to no importance to me, really.

“So, Shuichi-mooichi . . . where do you wanna go? I'm thinking we could do a shopping haul at 7-Eleven~! Like, like one of those YouTubers that do, uh, shopping hauls!” Kokichi suddenly piped up as he ran a stop light. “Well, shit.”

“You just—”

“It never happened~!” he looked at me with a smug smirk on his face. “And I don't care what you think anyway! We're gonna go to 7-Eleven.”

“. . . Yeah.” I folded my hands neatly in my lap as I stared directly at the rearview mirror. “Shuichi-mooichi, huh?”

“That’s your new nickname! Nishishi~!” Kokichi pressed his fingertips to his mouth when he laughed, still leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

“Hm,” I replied. I don't really know what to think of that. “I’m assuming you're going to try to stuff me full with junk food, right?”

“Oh-ho-ho! I think you've underestimated me, Shuichi-mooichi Saihara! I *will* stuff you full with sweets and Panta, and you will absolutely love it! MwahahahahAHAHA!” His evil laugh sounded oddly . . . evil.

“Ha!” I decided to play along. I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. “Sure, I'll let you think that.”

Kokichi let out an exaggerated gasp. “Okay, Shuichi. I see you.” He sassily moved his body and focused his eyes on the road more. “What a —What a snake you are . . .”

“Sssss~”

“Okayyyyyy, you can stop now,” he rolled his eyes.

I snorted, which is really odd because I've never really done that a lot in my past 17 years of living. “Alright,” I responded. I've begun to notice that the roads are really empty — most likely because it's 1:13 AM and everybody is either asleep, in their house, or at work doing a nightshift. It was kind of nice, but also kind of scary, but everyone says I've been “sheltered” my whole childhood and I can admit, they might be right. Might.

“Okay, Google Maps, why is 7-Eleven like, ten minutes away. We've been driving for five minutes!” Kokichi whined. He pouted and said to me, “This is dumb, just like Kaito!”

“Added insult to injury,” I commented. “Kaito wouldn't like that.”

“That’s why I said it, obviously! He's actually too dense to really realize he is~” he drawled out while tapping his fingertips on the steering wheel. Suddenly, he sighed and frowned. “I wanna speed, so buckle up, Shuichi-mooichi! Nishishi~!”

Suddenly, Kokichi had a wide grin and forcefully pushed on the gas pedal and went over double the speed limit — and it was intense. The trees and houses lining the road turned into a blur and everything was going so, so fast.

“K-Kokichi!” I exclaimed, holding on to the roof handle with all my might. “What — Why are you going so fast?!”

“Uh, isn't it obvious?” he replied, mocking the feeling of being annoyed. “We were going too slow.”

Did . . . Did he really just say that? “But at this rate, you're going to — we're going to die or something related to that! a-aND WHY ARE YOU GOING EVEN FASTER?!”

I was legitimately feeling my life flashing before my eyes, and he was just *laughing*. He was laughing like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard in two decades (and he wasn't even alive for two decades!). “Ahahaha! Shuichi, Shuichi! Isn't this fun?!” He was smiling with genuine excitement and happiness, and I was just this (👌🏼) close to hyperventilating.

“KOKICHI OMA THIS IS NOT FUN AND I SWEAR—”

“Take a right turn in 300 feet and your destination will be on the left,” an automated voice said over my desperate pleas.

“Alright!” Kokichi immediately took a *sharp* turn that almost knocked the wind out of me along with all my organs, but that's an exaggeration for how I felt when it happened. My heart was beating at *least* 2238384747 beats per second (also an exaggeration). Not too long afterwards, we stopped at a sudden halt at a 7-Eleven parking lot. The sudden stop made my whole body move forward with such vigor that I didn't know it happened at first. My back hit the seat hard while I tried to catch my whole life that just flew past me in those moments.

“Wow . . . You really look like you've just witnessed a murder,” Kokichi said in awe. I noticed he didn't have his seat belt on, and that he was also almost unnervingly close to my face. “Anyway, come on, we have a convenience store to rob!” He lightly pecked my cheek and grabbed his wallet from the cup holder.

I only nodded. I wish he would've kissed my cheek longer — and I shouldn't be thinking that way — I sighed. It's bittersweet, really. I liked, no, I loved the affection he gave me; but I know I shouldn't want it. It's really conflicting, actually. I looked at him with tired and exasperated eyes. “Let me just . . . catch my life for a second before we enter.”

I see Kokichi nod and lay his head on my arm. He's suddenly really affectionate. I hate this, it saddens me. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy but also a depressed goo of emo all in one. I just try to focus on the better part, me feeling good and Kokichi actually showing me affection. “Very affectionate, I see.”

“Well, I mean, I'm just That Person™️,” Kokichi closed his eyes and relaxed even more.

“You are,” I said.

We sat there for what felt like a lifetime, just sitting in comfortable silence, feeling each other's presence emanating calming auras.

pART TWO AND MERRY CHRISTMAS/ WHATEVER HOLIDAY THAT HAS HAPPENED OR IS HAPPENING

#shuichi danganronpa #kokichi x shuichi #saihara shuichi #shuichi x kokichi #shuichi saihara #danganronpa shuichi #saihara shuuichi #shuuichi saihara #a vague mention of Kaito but that's not important #oma kokichi #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #ouma kokichi #kokichi danganronpa #danganronpa trilogy #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 6)

Park Avenue 1554 November 17, 2038 1:14 am

They say the android rights movement was kicked off when the painter Carl Manfred returned home from a party and found the light switched on in his workshop.

Daniel Phillips-no-longer had just returned home from a coffee shop at Capitol Park and found the door to the terrace ajar. It was everyone’s guess what would start from that point… The real question was, had someone come in, and was still sneaking around the apartment, or had the burglar already left?

Now normally Daniel would have taken out his phone to make a call, to prove a point. But in this situation time was of essence, so he started dialing the DPD in his head. However, the signal didn’t get through. None of his thought-commands left the android brain, Daniel realized. He couldn’t make a call, browse the internet, or connect to the various household electronics. Something was jamming his signals, effectively putting the android into flight mode.

There was a shadow, then an incoming signal, that the deviant rebuked, and then something heavy impacted on his head. The last thought that crossed Daniel’s mind before temporarily shutting down was that Tina Chen had been right: He really wouldn’t have needed to worry about the missing apartment key. The still not repaired door alone had been an invitation to a burglar.

And the first thought upon waking up again, sometime after sunrise, was that said burglar must have been an android, because their first impulse had been to wirelessly shut down Daniel before they had went for the baseball bat.

“Kin-betraying swine!” Daniel hissed. “Just you wait, I’m going to unleash Connor on your sorry ass!”

The apartment’s new inhabitant took a few minutes to take inventory of what was missing. He was in luck, because most of the irreplaceable stuff in the flat was of low monetary value and therefore hadn’t been of interest to the burglar. All the family photos and little mementos were still there and what had gotten taken wasn’t really needed, especially not when you didn’t eat and were able to watch TV in your own head.

Daniel fed the fishes and the pet rat, a half-starved white-and-black patterned fellow that he had taken in after his owners had fled Detroit in a hurry. Then he left the apartment again to personally report the incident to the police. The deviant also didn’t like the hum behind his forehead that had grown quieter, but wouldn’t subside altogether. He decided to swing by an Android Zone for a checkup later, just to be on the safe side.

Entering the precinct Daniel realized that it was his third visit in as many days.

That’s three times more than in my whole life before the revolution! Am I living here now or what?!

The reception was manned, once again, by an ST300 android, no longer Tina Chen acting as a substitute. Only now the ST300’s nameplate read “Rika” and the LED on the android’s temple was missing. Rika smiled at the arrival, but before so much as a greeting could get exchanged, Detective Reed stormed out of the restricted area, drawing everyone’s attention. The man was muttering under his breath - lots of “fuck”s, but Daniel also recognized a short phrase: “team building measure my ass”.

“This is the detective you will want to talk to, Mr. Daniel”, Rika told Daniel after he had explained what had happened to him earlier. “Mr. Reed of the android related crime section.”

Gavin turned around sharply.

“Unless it wants to turn itself in, whatever it has to say won’t fall into my responsibility.”

“But it does!” Daniel insisted. “I was attacked by an android tonight!”

The statement was met with a gleeful grin: “You tin cans are duking it out amongst each other now? Works for me! Well, it was nice having known you, “Mister” Daniel. Now vamoose!”

The detective proceeded to grab a package from the counter, growling “Your locomotion software bugged or what? This is the last time I’m coming out here to fetch something!”, to what Rika replied in her usual friendly voice that she’d make sure to send the parcel to his desk via UPS next time and put it on Mr. Reed’s expense report. Daniel was certain that the human hadn’t really listened to the reply, because if he had, he’d exploded into violence.

When Gavin strode back towards the barrier, Daniel stepped into his way.

“There was a crime committed by an android. Against a person. That sounds like the textbook description of what your section is about!”

“And I fucking told you just now that it isn’t my job to investigate this shit!”

“Is, too!”

“Is not!”

“That your last word?”

“Yes. Now piss off or I’m going to have you removed by force!”

Daniel shook his head.

“Damn, Mr. Reed”, he said, “I wish we’d met earlier! Like by the swimming pool on our terrace, in a starry summer night in August…”

The detective contorted his face into what might pass as a smile. It had to be a smile, because it was… truth be told, it was endearing.

“Yeah”, Gavin nodded. “I’m sorry Captain Allen shot you off that roof.”

He took a step closer towards the PL600 and then suddenly slung his arm around the machine. Daniel didn’t understand what had caused the change. Just a moment ago they had been shouting at each other, but now Gavin was almost hugging Daniel. It was astonishing! Sympathy? From a human?

Gavin drew the android closer.

“Cuzz if he hadn’t done that” he hissed, “you wouldn’t have dozed through the Recall in our archive, but went straight to the Recycling Center where you belong!”

He pushed Daniel away, laughed out loud and was still laughing when the android left the police station.

 After getting turned down at the DPD, Daniel sought out the other 50% of the android related crime section at their home: Hank Anderson.

“…and thus Reed refused to even create a case file”, he finished his recounting of the encounter.

A genuine smile crossed Hank’s face, but Daniel had once again learned to not trust those. And indeed Hank said: “Sweet! Maybe we can put him on probation now!”

“Isn’t anybody going to do something about my attacker?!”

“Yes, yes, I’m getting to that”, the detective grumbled. “Just let me grab a bite before we drive back. I’m not exactly running on happy thoughts and sunshine here.”

“Who is, these days…”

Together they went to the kitchen, from where weird noises had emanated all through their discussion already. Now Daniel saw what had caused those: Connor was standing at the stove, making war against scrambled eggs and the butchered remains of something green.

After watching the RK800 for a while, Daniel spoke up:

 “You know what’s even more pathetic than me, Connor?”

“Yes: Gavin!”

“Take another guess.”

Connor was now stabbing the eggs, probably taking inspiration from something he had seen at a crime scene. Gooey particles escaped the carnage left and right. Daniel almost couldn’t bear watching the sight, and when Connor reached for the salt dispenser, he grabbed the RK800 by its wrist.

“Don’t, Connor! In the name of all the good that may be left in the world, don’t do it!”

Confused the deviant hunter replied that he had forgotten to add the salt before, to which Daniel replied that substituting it with sugar now wouldn’t help.

Connor put down the presumed salt dispenser and started rummaging for the real one in the cupboards.

“Can’t the lieutenant just eat something at the police station?” Daniel pressed. It wasn’t just that he was in a hurry. At this point even the contents of a random evidence bag ought to be less of a health risk than the RK800’s kitchen experiments.

“What’s your gripe? Hank likes my food!”

“I highly doubt that. Eating your “food” is like playing Russian Roulette.”

“Hank… used to like that, too. - And besides, you could lend me a hand here!”

“Sorry, dude, can’t help you. My cooking app got corrupted when someone shot at me.”

It was a lie, but not a too obvious one. A few of Daniel’s apps had indeed suffered from the deviant getting shot, others had stopped working due to deviance in itself and for others yet again the subscription had run out. Daniel was able to live in the apartment Caroline was still paying rent for, unaware of who was using it at the moment, but he didn’t have disposable money to renew those subs. However, out of all the skills the android used to have access to there were two and a half that Daniel considered his “native” skills, related to activities that contributed too much to his identity for him to ever lose his expertise: Cooking, Parenting and a little Driving. In these areas the deviant had amassed actual experience of the kind not even a full reset could ever clear completely.

Eventually Connor served Hank the sugar-free, but almost sufficiently salted, scrambled eggs on toast. The human in turn produced a slim package from his jacket’s inside pocket that he held out towards the guest.

“Bubble gum? No? Cigarette, then?”

“We’re androids, lieutenant. We don’t…”

Daniel didn’t finish the sentence, because Lt. Anderson was grinning at him like a man who knew more about a subject than that smug teen across from him. And hadn’t he seen another PL600 chew bubble gum just the day before?

“There… seems to be a lot I… don’t know about deviance?” Daniel tried and Hank’s expression changed to one indicating something close to respect.

“I don’t think I’m ready yet to try any munchies, Lieutenant. But even so – thank you!”

(to be continued)

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh daniel #dbh gavin #dbh connor #dbh hank #dbh st300 #danielgavinnewstory #dbhtextpost

[sugar-kisser]

Jung Wooyoung « High School Prank Part 2

requested by: @bunpcnyo

The day after the attempt to pull the senior prank you and Wooyoung are called into the principals office, apparently your so-called best friend had ratted out that you and Wooyoung were there as well. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you also didn’t want to lie because if you’re caught in the lie that means even more trouble.

“I was made aware that the two of you were also on campus grounds last night,” the principal states, “is that true?”

“No,” Wooyoung says immediately and you look over at him in shock, “Y/N and I were together last night. We were at her house hanging out.”

“Is this true?” The principal looks over at you. I mean Wooyoung wasn’t half wrong; you two were over at your house together last night. You nod your head, agreeing with his statement. “Do you have proof that you were indeed at Ms. Y/L/N house?” That’s when you heart sank, how could you and/or Wooyoung prove you were there last night.

“She drew a portrait of me. Took her a little while to do,” Wooyoung pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it over to the principal. He opens it and examine the picture and before he could ask anything else Wooyoung tells him to check the date written on the bottom corner next to your signature. You always dated your work but how did Wooyoung get ahold of the drawing you had done of him yesterday afternoon?

“Well I guess I’ll let you two off. You’ve got an alibi and there’s nothing I have that I can pin you against being here,” the principal hands the sketch back to WooYoung, “off to class both of you.” You two stand up and once you both were out of the room Wooyoung begins laughing.

“You looked like a deer in headlight,” he jokes quietly.

“How did you even get a hold of, let alone find that sketch?” You ask him as you try to reach for it but he pulls his hand further away from you.

“Last night when you were in the air vents I saw your bag and it was open and I noticed a sketch book,” Wooyoung states as he fiddles around with eh edges of the paper, looking down at it to avoid your stare, “it wasn’t my intention to snoop but I just wanted a peak and I saw this sketch and I really liked it. I was still surprised to see more of them at your house.”

“Wow you probably thought I was a stalker or something,” you laugh awkwardly looking away from him.

“Honestly. I didn’t mind. You’re a great artist,” Wooyoung hurries to stand in from top you, stopping you both from returning to your class, “just wait till you see what I have planned Friday.”

That all happened three days ago. Now you’re standing outside on the sidewalk in front of your house in a washed out blue denim overalls and an old, but cute, retro shirt. One of the buckles on the overalls are unattached and hangs down across your body and you have the pants of them cuffed to sit right above your ankles. WooYoung had told you to wear something that you could possibly ruin and you tried to find something cute but something that you wouldn’t mind ruining. 

You look down at your phone and notice that Wooyoung is almost ten minutes late. Usually you didn’t mind waiting on people because you would always have to wait on your best friend but apart of you was losing a little bit of hope. Maybe Wooyoung was playing you? Maybe everything people said about him was true? But then why would he act so nice towards you? Why would he praise you on your work? Why would he act shy when he didn’t mean to look through your sketch book?

You’re broken out of your thoughts when a motorcycle pulled up next to you. The man takes off his helmet and Wooyoung’s face appears.

“Sorry. I took a couple wrong turns. I don’t live on this side of town,” Wooyoung scratches the back of his head before running his hand through his hair to push back the fallen strays of hair.

“Yo-you have a motorcycle,” you stutter.

“Yeah,” He nods before turning to grab the helmet that sat behind him, “here, put this on.”

“There is no way I’m getting on that,” you almost laugh, taking a step back.

“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung begs, “I’m a safe driver. I promise.” You look at Wooyoung, then his bike, then at the helmet in his out stretched hand.

“You promise?” You ask as you slowly reach out to grab the helmet.

“Cross my heart,” he smiles. You take the helmet and put it on your head. You fumble around with the straps and Wooyoung reaches to help you by lightly pushing your head up so he can pull the straps through the little buckle. You climb into the bike and grab onto his torso, holding him tight, and although you can’t see it a large smile is plastered onto the boy’s lips. He quickly pulls his own helmet on and adjusts the straps before hitting the gas and taking off. Your grip instantly tightening causing Wooyoung to giggle. As Wooyoung cruised through the town you can’t help but watch everything pass by you.hHe was right; he’s a safe driver, well from what you’ve experienced so far. At the first stop light Wooyoung comes to a stop, his foot plants onto the ground. One of his hands leaves the handle and light taps your hands, that overlap each other against his stomach, in a rhythm. He’s trying to get you to relax, and you found it as him trying to get you to enjoy the ride and not be as terrified.

After driving to the other side of town, Wooyoung parks his motorcycle in front of an art studio. “We’re here.” He kills the motorbike’s engine and pulls off his helmet. He turns to help you take yours off. You finally look at the building and your mouth drops instantly.

“You know where we are?” WooYoung smirks as he clips the helmets onto his bike so no one could steal them.

“Yes! How did you manage to afford this?” You ask, your whole body practically trembling.

“My parents are friends with the owners. So it didn’t cost a dime,” he smiles. He leads you inside, his hand on your back. He opens the door for you and when you walk inside your instantly in love with the miniature museum of paintings done by many famous artist who tend to come here in order to do their work.

“Mr. Jung welcome! We have your studio ready for you,” a woman dressed in business attire, holding a tablet, welcomes the two of you. She leads you to one of the back rooms and unlocks the door, holding it open for you two. You walk in and see two large canvas’s and all the art supplies you could ever ask for.

“This is absolutely amazing,” you state almost breathless. You wander around the room, your hand touching just about everything you could. You turn to face Wooyoung who stands by the two blank canvas’s, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you chant as you run up to him causing him to laugh and he pats your head.

“Let’s get painting then!” Wooyoung cheers. You two head to your canvas’, and you pick up a pencil and stare at the canvas. For the first time you’re unsure what you want to draw, there are some many different things you’ve drawn but which did you want to be put onto a large canvas?

“I have no idea what I’m going to paint,” you huff as you slouch on the bar stool.

“Paint me!” Wooyoung suggest excitedly.

“You want me to paint you?” You ask laughing.

“Yeah! It’ll be you best one yet I have a feeling about it,” Wooyoung supports while waving his finger at you. You laugh and agree and begin to sketch out the boy in the best detail you could.

In a matter of hours you finally were signing off you painting with your little signature and date in the bottom corner of the painting. 

“Done!” You cheer and put the paint brush into the cup of water and step back from the painting to look at it over all. Indeed it is the best picture of Wooyoung you’ve done yet, but it’s also the fist colored and non-sketch you’ve done of him.

“Give me a couple more minutes. I’m almost done with mine,” Wooyoung looks over at you before returning to finish his work. In the past few hours you two got to know each other better. You had found out Wooyoung comes from a wealthy family but he doesn’t like to flaunt the money although it shows in the clothes his parents buy for him. You also found that he’s extremely smart and has multiple scholarships to several different schools and he’s yet to chose one to attend. He wants to major in something music related with a minor in dance.

“And done!” Wooyoung calls as he puts his paint and brush off to the side, “ready to show each other our final products?” You nod your head and the two of you quickly turned your canvas’s around to show each other what you did. You mouth drops as you look at Wooyoung extremely detailed portrait of you he did.

“You didn’t even bother to tell me you can draw or paint?” You gasp looking over the painting.

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I’ve been painting ever since i could hold a paint brush,” Wooyoung sheepishly smiles while scratching the back of his head. Your eyes graze over the picture and then you look back at yours.

“Yours makes mine look like child’s play,” you pout a little.

“No it doesn’t!” Wooyoung immediately counters, “I love this, and I’m stealing it!”

“Only if I get to steal this,” you point at your portrait.

“Deal!” Wooyoung laughs causing you to laugh as well. 

The two of you calm down after a minute and Wooyoung calls in the lady that brought you guys to the room and she take both paintings to the back so they can dry over night. Wooyoung and you head back outside and approach his motorcycle. He takes you home and walks you all the way up to your door.

“Thank you for tonight. I had an absolute blast,” you smile.

“If you want to go paint there, you just let me know and I will have a studio ready for you,” Wooyoung jokes, “but I also had a good time. I’ll make sure to bring you your painting tomorrow.” You nod your head and Wooyoung turns to leave but stops himself before turning to face you. He quickly closes the space between the two of you, his lips touching yours just for a sweet moment before pulling away.

“Good night Y/N,” Wooyoung smiles before walking back to his motorcycle. You watch him go before heading inside your house. You flop down on your bed and your finger raise to touch your lips and you break into a small smile. Boy was it going to be hard to fall asleep knowing you’re going to see him again tomorrow.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez x atiny #ateez x reader #atiny #ateez wooyoung #ateez jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #ateez au #high school au #artist #high school prank #kpop imagines #part 2 #date

[lalainajanes]

kc + we promised to stay friends but we’re doing the same stuff we did when we were a couple and i don’t wanna point it out because i don’t want it to stop

Five seconds after walking into the courtyard, Carolinerealizes she’s miscalculated.

Super annoying because planning on being nearly late hasbeen making her anxious all freaking day.

It looks like her neighbors are all present and accountedfor, which she should haveanticipated. Last quarter’s tenants meeting had resulted in a screaming matchand Mrs. Bolton’s carefully frosted cupcakes being used as projectiles – such awaste of the fluffiest buttercream Caroline’s ever had the pleasure of tasting.Obviously, no one wants to miss this little shindig and the possibility of highdrama.

The folding chairs are all filled. Except one.

The one next to Klaus.

Damn it.

They’d shared the usual meaningless break up platitudes. Theones about how they really liked each other as people and should still stayfriends and blah blah blah. Caroline’s never been in quite this situation, atleast as an adult. She’d known falling for a neighbor was a gamble but Klaushad seemed like a risk she needed to take. Since they’d fizzled she’s beencarefully avoiding him.

If only Klaus would have the courtesy to follow her lead.

She’s held her breath and checked the peephole every timeshe’s left her apartment. A Klaus-free hallway means she can bolt for thestaircase. She’s gotten some odd looks from her neighbors on the instances heroutfits had required heels. She’s ignored them, slipped the shoes on in thelobby, because the last thing she needs is a broken ankle.

Knowing Klaus he’d take such an opportunity and run with it.She’d need help if she were injured, with groceries and laundry and gettingmeals together. He’d be charming and helpful, all in the name of beingneighborly. He’d make her laugh and she’d see him in her apartment again, lounging on her couch and messing with her knick knacks, and Caroline can’tallow that. Not until she’sover him.

Any day now.

Their friend groups are pretty solidly intertwined and sheknows he’s been asking about her. Caroline’s not entirely sure why, since he’d been the one to backoff.

She’d been super pissed two months ago. Now she’s justconfused. She doesn’t trust the Klaus-shields she’s got in place just yet,can’t risk him slithering passed.

Klaus smiles at her, lifts his hand in a cheery little wave.Tips his head in the direction of the single empty seat tucked cozily betweenhim and the wall.

He’s probably done the intimidating murder eyes thing he’s sogood at to save it.

Caroline pastes on a bright smile – because she’s so notwilling to let him win the breakup –and makes her way over to him. He stands to let her pass. “Hey, Klaus,” shegreets. She keeps it warm, casual. Hopes it sounds natural. She scans the roomto avoid looking at him, holds her breath. Meeting his eyes with his body soclose, smelling the cologne that used to linger on her sheets, is dangerous.

“Caroline,” hemurmurs. When he sits his thigh presses to hers and she hurriedly crosses herlegs to cut odd the contact. “It seems you’ve been busy lately. I haven’t seenyou in what, two weeks?”

Clearly, Klaus had missed the post-breakup etiquette day atadulting school. He’s not supposed to call her out like that.

Caroline manages to laugh, “Has it been that long? One of mycoworkers broke her leg so I’ve been covering for her.”

That’s a big fat lie and she crosses her fingers Klaus won’task a follow up question. Luckily, Alaric Saltzman stands calls the meeting toorder. He starts talking about the meeting’s agenda. Caroline holds in a huffof annoyance. He’s talking slowly, probably already a few drinks in, and that’sonly going to prolong her torment. She’dread the materials that had been circulated already but, having lived in this buildingfor three years now, she knows that few other people would have bothered toprepare.

She stiffens when she feels Klaus lean in, his breathruffling the curls that have come loose from her top knot. “Care to liven thismeeting up with a wager, love?”

Her eyes widen and she almost chokes. A few people glanceover and Caroline hopes she hasn’t turned visibly red. “That would be highlyinappropriate,” she hisses and oh god she sounds like one of the Mystic Fallschurch busybodies who’d sniffed about the unladylike length of Caroline’sskirts in high school.

A sound of amusement comes from Klaus and she resists theurge to dig a sharp elbow into his ribcage. Mostly because touching him is a terrible idea. “My, someone’s thinkingimpure thoughts.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” she mutters. They’d bet sexual favorslast time (and Caroline has very fondmemories or collecting her winnings).

“As delightful as such bets would be,” Klaus says, soundinglike he in no way objects to the concept, “I was thinking cash. Five dollarssays Damon Salvatore’s once again behind on his recycling dues.”

Does he think she’s an amateur? She’s lived here longer thanhe has. “Please. That’s a sucker’s bet. You’re going to have to do better.”

She catches a hint of a smile, distinctly triumphant, beforeKlaus sobers, his head tipping back like he’s thinking deeply.

His next proposal is far more reasonable. She counters withanother. She finds herself relaxing, biting her lip to keep from giggling atKlaus’ more pointed observations about their neighbors.

She walks out of the meeting with an extra seven dollars inher pocket wondering if maybe, just maybe, she can stop with the ninjaavoidance moves.

A few days later, Caroline’s staring blankly at the fourtrays of cookies cooling on her kitchen island. She’d had a moderately crappyday at work and when she’d stopped at the grocery store on the way home anendcap of chocolate chips had caught her eye.

Hence the stress baking. She’s done it on autopilot,doubling the recipe, and now she’s got 64 cookies to deal with.

She’ll take some to work but her office is small and two ofher coworkers have been on health kicks. She’ll get serious evil eyes if shebrings in more than a dozen. She’s gotten used to Klaus taking baked goods offher hands. The man has an impressive sweet tooth but doesn’t even own a cookiesheet and he’s never had any qualms with storing the leftovers in his freezerand whipping them out whenever his agent calls him in for a meeting.

Apparently, he’s significantly better liked by the variouseditors and admins at his publishing company now.

Maybe she could just pop over and see if he still wantsthem. Just because he’s not her boyfriend anymore doesn’t mean Caroline doesn’twish him success.

Mentally patting herself on the back for her emotionalmaturity, Caroline grabs a Tupperware container and loads it up.

And then she runs to her room to put on something cuter thanan old Whitmore hoodie and flour dusted leggings. She switches out her sportsbra for something with more lift but draws the line at makeup. She isn’t tryingto impress Klaus, or anything. She’sjust making herself presentable.

She grabs her keys and exits her apartment. She takes thefew steps to Klaus’ door at an abnormally fast pace, raps sharply before shecan chicken out.

She can hear him on the other side, knows he must bechecking the peephole and it’s a struggle not to fidget or let her face dosomething weird. The locks scrape and Klaus looks pleased when he appears. Abit shocked too, but Caroline can’t blame him considering the lengths she’sgone to lately to avoid seeing his face.

“Caroline,” he says slowly, glancing down the hall like heexpects hidden cameras. “To what do I…”

He’s being stiff, a little formal, a tell that he’s notentirely confident. It makes Caroline feel a little better about her ownnerves. She jiggles the container a bit. “I baked. Kind of excessively.”

“Bad day?” he asks knowingly.

It’s tempting to say yes. To sigh and let her rigid postureloosen and unload like she used to. Klaus had never minded listening to her,not even when she got off track and rambled about issues that were onlytangentially related. He used to sit at her kitchen island and listen to hervent, calmly making his way through a stack of cookies while she’d eliminatedall traces of flour from her countertops and scrubbed down her mixer.

He’d ask questions and scoff at stupid things her clientshad done. The few times he’d stopped by her office he’d been cool anddismissive of the coworkers she didn’t like and Caroline had kind of enjoyedit. Petty? Yes. But she liked the proof that he’d paid attention.

She wonders if it would be so bad to be honest. To try totalk to him.

He’s watching her, waiting patiently for an answer andCaroline notes a smudge of ink on his neck. That his hair’s mussed and he’swearing worn jeans and a t-shirt that’s grey now but was probably blue of blackonce upon a time.

She knows that shirt, remembers how soft it was against hercheek as she’d laid draped over Klaus on his couch. It’s got a hole on the leftside, directly over a spot that Klaus lies and claims isn’t ticklish. Herfinger had always found it, wormed inside to stroke his skin, and whatever TVshow they’d been watching would quickly be forgotten.

The memories are too vivid. The times she’d managed to pinhim and dig her fingers into his skin, until he’d shaken with silent laughter,his eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched to keep the sounds in. Sometimes he’dbeen faster, had flipped her over and gotten revenge, until she’d been gaspingfor breath and pleading for mercy, sides aching but so freaking happy.

They can’t be friends, not when she can’t forget what it waslike to be more.

“Kind of,” Caroline snaps, angrier than she’d meant to be.She shoves the cookies in his direction and Klaus barely has a hold on thembefore she’s backing away. The container wobbles and he steps forward, pullingit closer. “I just didn’t want them to go to waste. I’ve got dinner on thestove, so…”

Another lie. She was going to order a pizza but she’s goingto have to scrounge something edible from her cupboards now.

“Wait,” he calls, “Caroline…”

She ignores him, turning, yanking her keys out of herpocket. She’s laser focused, jams the key into the lock.

“Caroline, can’t we just…”

He’s closer and she shakes her head, getting the door openand stepping in, “Maybe another time. Have a good night!”

She’s got the door closed before she’s finished speaking.Caroline presses back against it, sorely tempted to give her head a coupleknocks against it.

What had she been thinking?

She can hear Klaus, faintly, in the hallway. Can’t quitemake out what he says.

It’s at least two minutes before she hears his door shut.

“Caroline, darling, is that a new dress? You look positivelyedible.”

Huh. That’s suspicious.

Caroline’s used to Kol’s lavish compliments, knows to be onguard when he whips them out because it usually means he’s done something she’sgoing to hate. Or needs a favor. She drops her purse on the table by his door,takes the very large glass of red wine he hands her. Takes a healthy sipbecause she might need it. “What do you want, Kol?”

Kol’s got his most contrite expression on though Carolinesees a tiny bit of something else in his eyes. Glee, maybe. Anticipation,definitely. “There’s been a bit of a mix up,” he explains.

Well, that’s barely helpful.

“And…” she prompts.

He sighs, drapes his arm over her shoulder. “Bekah didn’tknow that you had custody of the group tonight. Nik stopped by her place todrop off something he’d borrowed and she dragged him along to dinner.”

“So Klaus is…” Kol’s steered her to face the kitchen andthere’s the answer to her question. Klaus is in the living room, talking toMarcel, his back to her. “Here,” Caroline finishes. “Does he know…?”

“That you’re here? We told him you’d be along shortly. Hesaid he didn’t mind though he’d leave if you did. I assured him that I thought we could all be adults.” Helooks at her, disapproving, and Caroline cannot believe that she is being judged by Kol Mikaelson ofall people.

“Are you seriously attempting to use reverse psychology onme right now?”

Kol grins, “Depends. Is it working?”

She takes another sip of wine that might technically be moreof a gulp. Kol’s brows rise but he’s smart enough not to comment. “I don’t seewhy I have to be the bigger person,”Caroline complains. “He got weird. And he broke up with me.”

Kol’s kind enough not to comment on her sulkiness, draws hertighter to his side. It’s almost a hug, something she’d sure he’d deny. “Mybrother can be massively thick headed.”

Ugh, how is it that there’s still a tiny part of her brainthat’s offended at the insult?

“That’s one way of putting it,” Caroline mutters.

“I’m sure you’ll be ever so creative and verbose once we getmore liquor into you. Assuming you’re staying?” Caroline nods, drains her wine.She hands Kol the glass. “And Niklaus?” he asks.

Caroline takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to smoothdown her dress. Part of her wants to leave but that would be cowardly. Asmaller, more childish, part of her wants Klaus to leave. He’d do it, Kol hadsaid, probably with a minimum of fuss. There’d be no hiding the reason,however, and she’d hate for Enzo and Kol’s gathering to get awkward.

An evening like this had been inevitable. Two of her veryfavorite people are in love with Mikaelsons (though Katherine’s still super indenial) and it’s kind of a miracle Caroline’s managed to avoid Klaus sociallyfor this long.

She can do this. Hopefully.

She surveys the room. Only a few people have noted herarrival. Kat’s perched on the arm of a chair, and she raises a questioning browwhen Caroline meets her eyes. Klaus is watching her too but he’s wary. Shemanages a smile in his direction, faint and only passingly polite. “He canstay,” she says. “Just don’t expect me to sit next to him at dinner.”

“What kind of host do you think I am?” Kol asks, some of hisoffense genuine.

She smiles sunnily, ducking out from under his arm, “Thekind that’s quick with the refills, I hope.”

Kol heads to the kitchen and Caroline makes her way towardsKatherine. She might be a mature adult but that doesn’t mean she’s not gratefulfor an ally.

Fingers crossed Kol keeps up the heavy pours.

Caroline’s still in the habit of checking to see if thehallway is a Klaus free zone. She does it automatically now, even late on aSunday evening, a bag of trash clutched in her hand.

The coast had seemedclear.

She nearly has a heart attack when she spots Klaus on thefloor, halfway between her doorway and his. He’s sitting down, leaning againstthe wall. His eyes are closed and he’s listing to one side.

She freezes, but only for a second. Then she’s moving, garbagedropped, forgotten, as she lurches over to kneel next to him. She checks hishead first, her hands gentle. “Klaus? Klaus, wake up.” He doesn’t even twitch,slipping further to the left.

Caroline runs one hand over his body, checking for injuries,her other going to his neck. “Please,be okay. I need you to be okay,” she mutters. Feeling around, she finds asteady pulse. “Thank god.”

She’s shaking and she regrets not bothering with any firstaid refreshers after college. Her panic eases slightly when she realizesthere’s no blood, that he’s warm to the touch. She manages to take a shakybreath in. “Klaus, open your eyes.” No response. She shuffles closer, raisingher voice, shaking his shoulder gently. “Klaus, please. Wake up. Tell me whathappened. What do you need?” Caroline leans closer, tipping his head in herdirection and he groans.

Caroline gets a strong whiff of bourbon.

Oh, she’s going to killhim.

“You’re drunk?” she shrieks. “I practically have a heartattack because I think you were freaking deadand you’re…”

His face creases in pain and she presses her lips together,still fuming. His lashes flutter and when he manages to open his eyes they’rehazy, confused. “Sweetheart,” he slurs, “Why’re you…”

He blinks, looking passed her, “Hallway,” he manages, aftera long moment. “Where’s my…”

Klaus’ hands go to pat at his pockets. One of them had beenkeeping him upright-ish and Caroline grabs him before he can hit to floor, tugginguntil he’s propped against the wall. “Careful!” she scolds.

Klaus is either unconcerned or unaware that he’d just nearlyface planted. “Couldn’t find my keys. I think I left them in the car.”

She considers leaving him. He’s a grown up who’d chosen topickle his liver without bothering to ensure he’d get to bed safely. He’s sonot her problem.

She can’t make herself stand up and walk away.

Caroline squeezes her eyes shut, sucks in a breath through herteeth. She’s a little calmer when she opens her eyes again. Klaus is slumpedwhere she left him, sleepy eyed and watching her raptly. “Okay,” she saysbriskly. “Who dropped you off?” She’s got most of Klaus’ usual drinking buddiesin her phone.

“Blonde girl. Pretty, but not as pretty as you.”

The compliment doesn’t land as Klaus had intended. Sheshoves his shoulder, forgetting his lack of balance, has to yank at his shirtto keep him from going down. “You were on a date?” she hisses. She shouldprobably try to keep her lid on her outrage, doesn’t want Klaus to know how herstubborn stupid feelings linger, but maybe he’ll be too out of it to remember.

A girl can dream.

“Pro tip, maybe don’t get falling down drunk on a date.You’re probably not going to get a second.”

He laughs, louder than he usually does, his head tippingback against the wall. She hates herself for it but she studies him moreclosely, looking for a lipstick smudge or a mouth shaped bruise, checking tosee if the buttons of his shirt line up.

When he quiets he reaches for her, his hand circling herwrist. “Don’t want a second. Or even a first. Don’t want her.”

That doesn’t make awhole lot of sense but he’s clearly had an awful lot of bourbon. Carolineignores the jealousy that’s still making her a little sick, does her best to bebusiness like. Once she’s solved this Klaus situation she’ll retreat to thebath tub with her emergency Haagen Daaz. She tries to tug her arm away butKlaus’ is unwilling to be shaken off. “Can you text your new pretty blonde friendand get her to swing back with your keys? Or does Rebekah or Kol have a spareset?” Elijah’s out of town, Caroline knows, won’t be back until Tuesday. They’dchatted about his business trip at Kol and Enzo’s.

“Phone’s dead.”

“Of course it is,” Caroline grumbles. Klaus had availedhimself of the backup charger she carries in her purse way more than she everhad. “I’ll text Kol.”

She pulls back enough to snap a pic of Klaus, sends it off.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Found: 1 drunk brother.

Caroline [11:23 PM]:Please bring keys and take him off my hands.

Kol [11:24 PM]: Heleft them in the Uber. I found them.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Awesome.

Caroline [11:24 PM]:Did you have a fun double date?

Caroline [11:24 PM]:I heard Klaus’ new lady friend is pretty.

She regrets the text as soon as she sends it. It’s not herbusiness and Kol will read way toomuch into the statement. Not that it’ll be hard when, even via text, it drips with how pissed she is. Klaus’thumb traces circles on her skin. It’s distracting so she’ll blame him for herimpulsiveness.

Kol [11:25 PM]:What? It was strictly boys only, darling. Marcel got a new job.

She’s not owed an explanation. That doesn’t mean she canresist fishing for one.

Caroline [11:26 PM]:He’s not my boyfriend anymore. You don’t have to cover for him. It’s not likehe’s cheating.

Kol [11:26 PM]:Like I’d have covered for him if he’d have been dumb enough to cheat on you.

Kol [11:27 PM]:The only women he talked to tonight were the waitress and the Uber driver.

Kol [11:27 PM]: Ioffered my world class wingman skills and a red head in a scandalous top madesex eyes but Nik was more interested in his glass.

Kol [11:27 PM]:His many glasses, I should say.

She’s probably a terrible person but she’s pleased. She’llnever admit as much, however.

Caroline [11:28 PM]:I’m confused.

Kol [11:28 PM]:Me too. I’m going to text our Uber driver your number. I gave her $40 to dropNik’s keys off. Will you grab them from her?

Caroline [11:29 PM]:I should make him sleep it off in the hallway.

Kol [11:29 PM]:Probably. But you won’t.

He’s totally right and it’s super annoying.

Caroline [11:29 PM]:Fine.

Caroline [11:30 PM]:I will get him safely inside his apartment but that’s it. I’m not tucking himin, I’m not making sure he’s hydrated. I might steal all the painkillers fromhis medicine cabinet.

Kol [11:31 PM]:Hell hath no fury.

Caroline [11:31 PM]:Shut up.

She’s not scorned, damn it. Klaus hadn’t technically wrongedher in any way. As much as she’d like to she can’t blame him for the lingeringsoft spot she has for him. That’s all on her.

Caroline makes sure her ringer is on, turns the sound wayup, and shoves her phone into her pocket. She debates getting Klaus to stand,hauling him into her place. She suspects he’d make himself at home on her couchand that getting him into his place would be more of a struggle. Instead, shesits next to him, resigns herself to waiting. She turns her head so she canlook at him, “Do you have to puke or anything?”

He makes a noise of denial, his palm slipping over hers. Hemoves closer, his head tipping down to watch as his fingers tangle with hers.She probably shouldn’t be allowing the touching, definitely shouldn’t beenjoying it, but if it keeps Klaus in this quiet and cooperative stage ofdrunkenness she’ll let it happen.

He’d never been particularly fond of PDA. Except when he wasdrunk.

In private he’d always been touching her, would pull herclose and tangle his hands in her hair when they watched TV. She’d usuallywoken up in the middle of the bed, Klaus pressed against her. He’d liked itwhen she wore his clothes, used his shampoo and soap. Liked leaving marks onher skin even more, scraped her with his stubble until her skin was red andsensitive, left little bites that would become bruises, hints of pain as aprecursor to pleasure.

She tries to pull away again, feels the back of her neck gettinghot. Klaus’ grip remains firm.

He flips her palm over, presses the back of her hand to histhigh. Traces the lines he finds delicately.

She sinks her teeth into the inside of her lip when shewants to shiver.

“Did you at least have fun?” she asks.

The shake of his head is slow. “Not particularly. Tried tobeg off but Marcel says I’ve been too much of a hermit recently.”

“Didn’t think you were susceptible to a guilt trip.”

“There might have been some threats too.”

She considers pressing. Drunk as he is, he might be pliantand Caroline’s always liked to new information. But Klaus’ secrets shouldn’t beof any concern to her. She’s struggling to let go of him, knowing more mightmake that harder. She keeps her reply disinterested, “That sounds about right.”

“Did you have fun the other night? At Kol’s? You seemed to.”

She’s still half-turned to face him, watches his expressiongrow darker. She’d kept a room between them at all times, had waited untiltheir various mutual friends had wandered into her orbit before talking tothem. Had excused herself to use the restroom whenever it looked like Klausmight get close, or a topic that might draw him in was brought up. She’d beenextra bubbly to try to cover any weirdness, had made jokes and laughed loudlyand steered all conversations away from her and how she’d been doing.

Honestly? It had been exhausting.

“I always enjoy myself at Kol’s,” she says. “He makes thedip I like.”

“You barely ate.”

She bristles and the idle patterns he’d been drawing on herpalm halt. Would it kill him to just make polite small talk here? She’s trying. “Well, that’s a littlestalker-y.”

Klaus doesn’t seem to take offense. “Guilty, love. I’dresolved myself to asking you to talk to me in private but you thwarted myefforts.”

She manages to yank her hand away, puts a few extra inchesbetween them. “We don’t need to talk privately.”

“I made a mistake.

Would he be saying this sober? Caroline’s not sure. “Klaus,stop.”

He doesn’t listen. “I thought… well, I was wrong aboutsomething. And then I realized what an idiot I was for…”

“Stop,” she repeats, more forcefully. “You’re drunk. Thisisn’t the time.”

“Would you talk to me if I was sober?”

She keeps her eyes on her lap. His tone is distinctlywheedling and she doesn’t trust herself not to cave if she looks over.

“You seemed awfully reluctant the other night.”

Her phone rings and she heaves herself to her feet, sends asilent thank you to the Uber driver with flawless timing. She pats Klaus’shoulder, makes sure he’ll stay upright. “You’ll just have to ask nicely andfind out.

Caroline takes the stairs, not willing to wait for the elevator,to give Klaus the time to formulate a reply.

The last twenty minutes have been an emotional whirlwind.Klaus can give her a little time to recover before he throws her into another.

Caroline doesn’t sleep. At all. She’s not happy about it.

When 6 AM rolls around she knows she should make a pot ofcoffee and hop in the shower, resign herself to going heavy on the under eyeconcealer. Instead, she grabs her phone, emails her boss, and takes a sick day.Something she never does so it won’tbe questioned.

She throws a robe on – her least cute one – and marches overto Klaus’ place. She knocks. And knocks, and knocks. Until her knucklesprotest.

He looks awful when he throws the door open (and a tiny bitmurderous but that evaporates when he sees her) his shirt wrinkled and skinpale. His hair is flat on the left, where an odd pattern from whatever surfacehe’d been sleeping on is pressed into his cheek, and a snarl of curls on theright. Caroline crosses her arms, “Invite me in.”

He wants to talk? They’re going to get this over with.Otherwise she’s going to dwell and Klaus has been occupying far too much of hermental energy lately. She figures there are two possible outcomes. First, theyresolve whatever’s lingering between them, for real this time, and he fadesinto the background of her life, a friend of a friend who happens to live downthe hall. In the other option, the one she’s kind of rooting for, he continuesto take up a ton of space in her brain and buys her dinner and provides regularorgasms for her trouble. Along with good conversations, cute drawings, andregular arguments about the merits of reality television.

Klaus steps back, pulling the door open wider, and Carolinebrushes passed him. She heads to his kitchen, goes directly for the cupboardwhere he keeps the coffee. “If we don’t do this now I’m going to be thinkingabout it all day. I won’t get anything on my goals list accomplished and I’llbe cranky. So I thought we could just… I don’t know, rip off the band aid.”

Klaus still hasn’t said anything but when she twists herhead to check his reaction he’s smiling. “Let me grab a couple painkillers andwe’ll have coffee.”

Caroline winces, reaching into her pocket. She sets theTylenol bottle on the island between them. “I was kind of pissed last night. Istole these.”

He laughs, opens his fridge. Pulls out a bottle of applejuice. Drinks directly from it like some kind of heathen. Caroline wrinkles hernose, “Gross. What if someone else wants some and doesn’t want your cooties?”

“I haven’t had anyone over in ages.”

It’s not surprising information, Caroline had gleaned asmuch from his comments last night. Still, she finds the confirmation that Klaushasn’t been having company welcome.

She turns her attention back to brewing the coffee. Onceeverything is set she flicks the button, takes a deep breath, turns to faceKlaus fully. “I don’t understand what happened.”

He sighs, all traces of amusement fleeing. “I know.”

“I thought things were good. We’d exchanged keys. We’d talkedabout me moving in when my lease was up. You didn’t seem freaked out about that.”

“I wasn’t. Honestly.” Klaus runs a hand through the flatside of his hair, making it slightly more symmetrical. “I heard that you turneddown a promotion.”

She stares at him and it takes her a second to realize whathe’s talking about. “What, the Seattle thing? I never even considered takingit. It was barely a move up. Andmoving across the country? I can barely get my mom to come here.”

He looks down, leans against the counter behind him. Klausisn’t one for embarrassment but she thinks his ears might be turning pink. “Ididn’t realize that at the time. Katerina kindly explained it to me a few weeksago.”

Yeah, Caroline would bet Kat hadn’t been especially kind.

“How did you even know about it?”

“I had to send my laptop away, remember? Borrowed yours afew times. You left a few of the emails open.”

Caroline groans, crossing her arms. “You broke up with mebecause you snooped?” She’d used theoffer to leverage a bit of a pay raise. Her boss had been only too willing tokeep Caroline around. She hadn’t told Klaus, had wanted it to be settledbecause she’d been pricing out winter getaways in St. Lucia.

“I feel as if snoopedimplies a bit of effort,” Klaus mutters. “An ulterior motive.” He’s lucky there’snothing she can throw at him.

“So not the point,” she snaps.

Caroline whirls, intending to get a bit of distance, but hegrabs her arm, steps in front of her. “Wait a minute, don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving,geez. I wouldn’t have invaded your place this early if I wasn’t committed togetting all the gory details.”

He’s not entirely convinced, ducking down to catch her eyes,his pleading. “I didn’t want to hold you back.”

She snorts, claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, but that’sawfully conceited of you. Also, reallyarrogant. Kind of on brand, I guess.”

She’s only half teasing.

Annoyance flickers across Klaus’ features. “Funny. I thoughtI was being selfless.”

She swallows back the reply that wants to shoot out – she’sfairly certain he’d been scared butit she uses that against him flippantly he’ll be the one storming out and they’llnever get anywhere. “Klaus. I’m notselfless. Had I really wanted Seattle I would have asked you to come with me.”

That shocks him. His eyes widen, mouth falling open and hestruggles for words.

Her hearts started pounding, nerves tightening her stomachbut Caroline continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder and striving fornonchalance. “You work from home like 95% of the time anyway. You’d just haveto fly back once a month. And we’d need to get an extra bedroom or two becauseI’m pretty sure at least one of your siblings would be visiting every weekendbecause you’re co-dependant weirdos. But, since they all have excellent tastein significant others, I was prepared to deal.”

Klaus seems to be having trouble processing. “Why… why wouldyou…”

She knots her hands together because they’re shaking. Hervoice isn’t steady either, “Because I loved you, duh. And I was pretty surethat you loved me too.” He’d never said it but then, neither had she. Klaus isgood at actions – showing up with dinner when she’d texted that her day hadbeen busy, not complaining when she got his shirt all wet during the sad moviesthat he hated, keeping the scented candles she liked in his apartment. There’dbeen dozens upon dozens of tiny little things that showed he paid attention,that he wanted her to be comfortable and happy.

She’d found she hadn’t really needed the words.

He reaches for her, his hands settling on her hips. Carolinelets herself be pulled, fits her body to his. It’s just as right as sheremembers. When his head dips she dodges, resting her head against his shoulder.She tightens her arms around him, just in case he gets any silly, wrong, ideasabout pulling away. “I’m gonna need a little grovelling before I consent tomake up sex.”

She feels him laugh, hears the low husk of it against her ear.“How about I make you breakfast?”

Caroline thinks that’s a great start.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #goldcaught #went to my prompts in hopes of finding something that would be short #and shake off my writer's block #quelle suprise is is not short

[bookmawkish]

"Love Me" our OTP again, since we keep putting them through stuff XD

Saved it for Valentine’s Day

When Bruce opens his door in the morning, hefinds his doorway almost entirely filled with stuffed bear. It says somethingabout Bruce Banner and his lifestyle that he reacts very little: his eyeswiden, and he rubs at them once or twice, but this is due more to the earlyhour than any real surprise.

Clint Barton’s face appears, framed by pinkplush, at the gap where the bear’s head joins its shoulder.

“You got a bear,” he says, perhaps redundantly.“I didn’t get a bear.”

“What did you get?”

“Bamboo. Six foot bamboo canes in a pot. Buttied with a red ribbon.” Clint pushes the bear’s arm down so he can look atBruce more easily, completely straightfaced. “What do you think of your bear?”

Bruce gives this important question dueconsideration.

“I’m glad it isn’t green?”

Clint nods solemnly, then withdraws. The bearimmediately springs back to fill the available space like a giant pinkmarshmallow. The faint strains of Donny Osmond singing “Puppy Love” filter downfrom the direction of the main lounge area, and there’s a subtle but definitescent of roses suffusing the corridor.

Bruce takes a deep breath and lets it outslowly. It’s going to be a long day, he can just tell.

Tony is very excited, which to Bruce is thefirst biggest indication that the whole bear thing is a Starkism as opposed toa Lokism. It’s always a close-run contest, when things are afoot at AvengersTower - does the fault lie with the god, or the engineer?

The walls and couches in the lounge weren’tpink. Again, everything pointed to Tony. Loki would have gone the whole extramile. There probably would have been actual rosebushes taking root in thefloor. Not to say that there won’t be at some point.

“Brucie-bear! No, seriously, did you like thebear? It was Hulk-sized. I mean actually to scale. I sent the precisemeasurements to the company, they were thrilled to get it, I think they -”

Engineer confirmed.

“It’s awesome, Tony,” says Bruce, getting histea tin out of the cupboard. Somehow he isn’t surprised that the sugar in thesugarbowl is tinted vaguely pink. “So, Valentine’s Day, huh? Didn’t know it wasa favourite of yours.”

Tony doesn’t respond immediately, and shufflesa little, which gives Bruce pause.

“Is this anything to do with you not givingPepper a -”

“No,” Tony shoots back, sticking his hands inhis pockets. “I just wanted to do something normal. For everyone.”

Bruce wonders in which world orderingHulk-sized teddybears and ramming them into your room-mate’s doorway isconsidered normal, but he doesn’t say anything. Because he knows what Tonymeans. Virtually nothing they do is normal by regular people standards.Sometimes it’s nice to pretend that they’re just Tony and Bruce, regular guysin a house-share doing regular stupid people things on regular stupid peopleholidays. Even if that means giant bears and pink sugar and Donny Osmond. Hestirs his tea and feels oddly content.

“I guess that means we’re watching TheNotebook tonight.”

Tony makes a face.

“When Harry Met Sally?”

“Better. Not good. But better. Only You.And I got Ben and Jerrys to make an ice cream. With pie.”

Bruce looks up as his attention is caught by ahitherto unnoticed spray of paper hearts fluttering gently in the air-con. Itturns out the ceiling is covered in them, a net of glittering red that sparklesand glimmers at every slight movement of air.

“You know,” he says, “you’ve done a great job.Thanks.”

He knows he’s said the right thing when Tonybeams. Because Tony - and Howard must take a huge part of the responsibilityfor this - is very susceptible to approval and validation from others. SeeingTony happy is important. To forestall any unwanted introspection, however, hechanges the subject again.

“I kind of don’t want to ask, but should weexpect any grand, dangerously magical gestures from the godly half of our onlyreal full-time couple? I mean, is the kitchen suddenly going to be full ofunicorns or anything?”

Tony shrugs. “Well, they’re both enormousdivas. I’m pretty sure if Heckyl doesn’t get at least a pound box of specialimport Godiva to work his way through, he’s gonna raise hell. And you know Lokican’t resist a grand gesture. I’m not ruling anything out.”

“Very wise.” Bruce sips his tea, then thephrasing of a previous statement turns round and slugs him in the brain. “Waita minute. You got them to make an ice cream? You mean a brand new one,don’t you…wasn’t Stark Raving Hazelnuts enough?”

“Nope,” says Tony, happily. “Not now I can haveI, Tony, Have Pies For You.”

As it happens, Tony and Bruce are both destinedto be disappointed: there are to be no unicorns in the kitchen. Loki and Heckylare in Loki’s room, and in fact having a difference of opinion - although it isat least Valentine’s Day related.

“Today?”

“Yes, today.”

Loki doesn’t mention the “Mister and Mister”matched ceramic cat ornaments he found outside the door on his way back fromthe kitchen earlier. Like Bruce, he suspects he knows very well who is to blamefor this and will take suitable vengeance at an appropriate point. He’s good atvengeance: where deserved, of course, because he’s theoretically a good personnow. And it’s certainly deserved in Stark’s case - those cats are hideous. Notto mention the fact that the kitchen ceiling is shedding glitter like ahyperactive toddler at craft club and Loki now has sparkly hair.

Heckyl, who is sat on the floor with a StarkPadin his hands, flipping through trash on the internet, looks up at him.

“They only have the one day here where theylove each other? Ugh. Weird.”

“Not exactly. They have the one day where eachparty is manipulated into doing things or buying things for the other by thestrategic application of guilt and emotional pressure.”

Heckyl gives him a look.

“Well, that sounds more normal,” hesays, and Loki laughs. “So? Did you buy me anything or do I need to start onthe manipulation right away?”

“I didn’t buy you anything.”

“Heartless.”

“I don’t have to buy you anything.”

“Rude.”

Loki gets down onthe floor and settles himself comfortably next to Heckyl. Without asking, hereaches out and takes the tablet from his hands (Heckyl complains loudly, butdoes not resist all that much) and sets it aside. When Heckyl playfully makes agrab for it, Loki catches his wrists instead, pulls him in against his chest,then very deliberately presses the flat of his palm against the man’s forehead.And the world goes away.

I got you this instead, saysLoki.

Suddenly it’s years ago, inside their heads. A time only afew weeks after Loki had met Heckyl and released him from that cage. They’dbeen sat together in some dive bar on a planet even Loki didn’t recall the nameof, and nothing at all of any importance or annoyance had been happening. Whichmade a change, frankly, considering that their lives since they’d met had beena riot of activity, chaos and (quite often) getting shouted at by rulingauthorities.

This was the first time we stopped to drawbreath.

They’d been left pretty much to themselves: even in a divebar it had been very clear that they were the most lethal thing in the area. Ithad been quiet, the only other patrons huddled in their own dark corners,hiding from their own crimes or demons. Heckyl had a small bruise just over hiseye, the result of a narrow escape from a stoning. And Loki had got up, headingto the counter to get food and as he went past -

It didn’t mean anything, saysHeckyl, defensive to the last.  

It meant everything, countersLoki. This was it. This was when I should have known.

- just reached out instinctively and brushed a fingertipover that bruise. Nothing suggestive, nothing sexual, a single touch.

There’d been gripped hands before, taking the other‘sweight when climbing. Helping hands, to get the other back on their feet.Defensive hands, raised in violence to protect the other. There had been allthis prior instinctive motion, without conscious thought driving it: this is mycompanion, my ally. We help each other.

But there had not been this.

Heckyl turns, his eyes wide, to watch Loki as he walksaway. His expression is caught perfectly between shock, confusion and hunger:there’s an intense and obvious vulnerability to him in that moment. It’s clearhe doesn’t understand what just happened at all, but equally clear that hewants more of whatever the hell that just was with every fibre of his being. Healmost quivers.  Loki does notlook back at him, all the dark angularity of his long leather clad spine turnedtowards him.

This is when I think you knew.

Loki pulls back his hand, and they’re both back in hisroom, still sat on the floor. Heckyl breathes out, shuddering.

“How did you - how did you do that?” he asks. “How?You didn’t even know. You couldn’t have seen.”

“I didn’t have to see it in you to know,” Loki says. “I sawit in me.”

He pauses, noting that for once the notoriously volubleHeckyl has nothing to say, then adds: “Oh. And you also get these cats.”

He summons the pair of ceramic monstrosities between themwith a flick of his fingers, and chuckles with satisfaction at the sound ofshattering as Heckyl jumps him.

#ValentinesDay #valentine fic #loki fanfiction #heckyl/loki #Heckyl #heckyl fanfiction #Avengers #avengers family #love #gay love #Loki Laufeyson #tony stark #bruce banner #clint barton #MCU #Power Rangers #power rangers fanfic #Power Rangers Dino Supercharge #Dark Ranger #MY OTP IS PERFECT #crackship #crack crossover #crossover

[bangtaninink]

i’m too lit to dim down a notch IV

Summary: Jeongguk is the new kid in town. Kind of. He’s looking for an Authentic College Experience™, and you have no problem helping him out with achieving that (fratboy!AU)

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

A rhythmic knock at his door makes Jeongguk flinch and nearly drop his shirt.

“Um, come in?”

He’s just about to wonder why the fuck someone’s bothered to knock because no one in the frat house ever bothers to knock, but all questions die on the tip of his tongue when he sees you walk in, dressed in a Doosan Bears jersey, black jeans, and white sneakers, holding a navy blue cap between your teeth as you pull your hair up into a ponytail.

“Mornin’,” you greet, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Jeongguk fumbles, drops his shirt and scrambles to pick it up, tripping over a pile of dirty clothes that are in dire need of washing before he gets himself composed.

“Hi. Hey. Hi,” he stammers, so desperate to get his shirt on he almost runs into a wall. “G-good morning.”

“Sorry I’m a bit early, but I got out of the house as quick as I could because there’s a party happening at our house tomorrow night and the others are in some mad rush to get everything planned out. Some of the more senior sisters get a bit anal about making sure shit’s organised and I don’t like to be around them when that’s happening.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t mind me, okay? We’ve got heaps of time. Just pretend like I’m not here.”

Easier said than done, Jeongguk thinks, but he holds his tongue and tries to continue getting dressed, even when he sees you flop down to lie on his bed, cap resting on your knee as you hold your phone above your head. It’s ridiculous, the way your presence has all of a sudden got him question every little thing about today -- should he really wear this shirt today? This cap? Don’t even get him started on his hair!

Jeongguk freezes when the sound of your humming cuts through the quiet, resisting the urge to turn and look over his shoulder and watch your humming transition into quiet singing. Admittedly, you’re not that good. He doesn’t have particularly high standards (he leaves that to Yoongi), but he’s pretty sure even you wouldn’t call yourself the next IU. Still, just the fact that you’re here, in his room, singing-but-not-really-singing Two Melodies without another care in the world is enough to make Jeongguk’s cheeks warm with an unexplainable fondness for you.

He tugs his shirt on quickly, crosses the room to open up the door to his wardrobe to check himself in the mirror, all the while avoiding looking at you. Jeongguk tries not to wince at how unkempt his hair looks, and does his best to comb his fingers through it as casual and nonchalant as he can look trying to flatten out a cowlick or two. The cap, he thinks, is definitely gonna be needed today.

“Hey, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk turns so quickly he hits his knee on the edge of his wardrobe’s door.

“Uh, yeah?” he replies.

“Can I ask you something?”

Dread washes over Jeongguk, and irrationally, he thinks, here it is. She knows what I did last night. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck. Bye, world! It was nice while it laste--

“Two things actually,” you continue. “How’d you get into Beta Tau so quickly, and if you’re a sophomore, why are we in the same anatomy class?”

Jeongguk nearly cries with relief.

“Oh, um. Well, my dad’s alumni,” he answers, giving up on his hair and slapping his cap on, kicking his wardrobe shut with the heel of his boot and moving to sit beside you, a complete bundle of nerves but, hopefully, looking calm. “He studied in Seoul and made it into Beta Tau Sigma when he was a student here. The frat has that rule about automatically letting family relations in or whatever. I forget the proper wording.”

“Oh, I know that rule,” you say, tucking your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. “That’s how Tae and Jin oppa got into Beta Tau as well.”

“Oh. Wait, wait. Seokjin hyung’s your brother too?”

“Nah, he’s my cousin. Might as well be my brother though. What about anatomy class?”

“W-well,” Jeongguk starts, trying to not jerk at the way you nudge the side of his thigh with your knee. “Uh, I did a lot of extra classes back in Busan last summer. Kinda built up enough credit that I might be able to graduate a year early. Or at least a semester.”

Strategically, he leaves out the part about having so few friends back in hometown that he had way too much time to himself in July that he’d resorted to just... studying.

“So... you’re like a super nerd then,” you laugh, teasing. “I like that. It’s a nice change from the other Busan boy.”

“Who, Jimin hyung?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t have made it to senior year if it weren’t for me and Hoseok oppa. He spends way too much time doing everything else but studying, even now. I mean, I’m not really one to talk, I guess.” You sit up, resting your arm on Jeongguk’s shoulder, missing the way he tenses briefly. “But then again, I can find time to fuck and get fucked on the regular while getting straight As, so he really has no excuse.”

Jeongguk chokes on his own spit.

“Um, wow,” is all he has to say. You laugh quietly.

“Oh, I have another question for you. The other day, when I first met you? What’d you mean when you said you wanted to be a physiotherapist for athletes because you probably “won’t get to be one”?” you say, fingers curling in imaginary quote marks. “Who says you won’t get to be one?”

“Uh, no one, but... it seems a bit unrealisitic for me to aim to be on Yoo Heekwan’s level. Or Park Taehwan. Like, they’re gods, and I’m, like, a pleb.”

“You play baseball, Guk?”

“Yeah. And swim. Mostly swim. Well, no. Well, I dunno yet. Tryouts for the baseball are on Wednesday. And the swim team tryouts are on Tuesday. It’ll be a fucking miracle if I make it into either one, honestly.”

“Can I come?”

Eyebrows raised so high they almost disappear into his cap, Jeongguk looks at you with unabashed shock.

“To... to the tryouts?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Um... why?” It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, and he stumbles over his words trying to recover. “No, I mean! N-not that I don’t want you there! Or... w-well, I dunno. Do I want you there? I-it’s a free country. I guess you could technically go whether or not I say y-yeah, but...” He trails off when you start to laugh.

“You’re cute, Guk. But I’d like to come and watch if that’s okay with you, because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a fucking lunatic for baseball -- or just sports in general -- and, also, I wanna be there to tell you ‘I told you so’ when they ask you to join the team right then and there. Plus, swimmers are hot.”

Jeongguk blinks, dumbfounded and trying to listen to what you’re saying, instead of staring down at your lips while you speak like he wants to.

“But... you haven’t even seen me play or swim,” he replies.

“With a body like this, Jeon Jeongguk, I’m sure you play and swim great,” you laugh, lightly smacking his chest.

(He hardly feels a thing.)

“Um. Uh. Okay. Y-yeah. If you want to, noona. Wait. C-can I call you that?”

“You can call me anything you want, babe,” you say, chuckling as you stand, fingers wrapping around Jeongguk’s wrist to pull him up onto his feet. “C’mon. Let’s go see some epic shit.”

“Holy shit. That was amazing!” Jeongguk cries out, skipping backwards to remain facing you as you both leave the stadium, the afternoon sun warm on your heads.

“God, how does he make it look so fucking effortless?” you add, jogging after him. “I need me a man like Yoo Heekwan.”

“Yeah. I’m not even gay, but amen to that, noona. A-fucking-men.”

Laughing, you quickly grab Jeongguk’s wrist, pulling him away from the path of an incoming cyclist as he draws nearer to a pedestrian crossing. The adrenaline is still well and truly pumping through your veins and his, and another win for the Doosan Bears means neither of you will be calming down anytime soon.

“Hey, Guk. You hungry?” you ask. “Let’s get some food.”

“I’m down for that. Where do you wanna go?”

“Let’s get some burgers, babe.”

“I like burgers!”

Shaking your head, you laugh, not letting go of his arm as you lead him down the road to the nearest burger joint, a usual stop of yours after a game. It’ll be a welcome change today, for someone to actually eat with you and talk about what’d just happen, instead of the normal ‘do you even know how many calories are in a regular cheeseburger?’ lecture and constant eye-rolling at you waxing poetic about athletic form and pitching speeds.

(”Jesus. Okay, Bora. Just calm down and let me finish this in peace. I’ll get you your fucking salad in a sec.”)

In the middle of his monologue on a spectacular catch by Min Byunghun, Jeongguk reaches forward to pull the door open, letting you step inside first, not even breaking sentence or losing his train of thought once. You almost trip over your foot walking in, so not used to the chivalry, even if the both of you are just entering a fucking Burger King. Unphased and oblivious to your surprise, Jeongguk keeps talking right up until the both of you have made it to the counter to order.

“Hi. Can I please have a Grilled BBQ set with cheese, and a side of onion rings?” he orders, already reaching into the back of his jeans to pull out his wallet. “What’re you gonna have, noona?”

“Jeongguk, you’re not gonna pay for me.”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk turns to look at you, first with a look of confusion, then with a smile. “What’re you talking about? Of course I’m gonna pay. You bought my ticket to the game, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but I asked you to come out today. Put your wallet away.”

“Noona, it’s just Burger King,” he says, laughing. “No offense.”

“Hey, dude. None taken,” the cashier says, waving a dismissive hand. “Think I care about this place that much?”

“See? This guy knows what I mean. Order whatever you want, noona. I’ve got this.”

Door opening and meal paying? This is too good to be true, you think.

“Fine. If you insist,” you say.

“Yup.”

“I’ll have a Supreme Cheese set, no pickles, and some extra cheese fries.”

“Too easy,” the cashier replies, punching in the orders, hand outstretched as Jeongguk surrenders his card unprompted.

“You can go find a table, noona. I’ll bring the food over when it’s done,” Jeongguk says, taking his card back.

You choose a table close to the back wall, still within view of the front counter. Cradling your chin in your hand, you look at Jeongguk’s back as he waits, fingers tapping against the counter top while he looks down at his phone, too busy wondering how the hell this kid can be such a... gentleman in this day and age? No one treats you like this, not even the rest of the guys in Beta Tau Sigma, so you can’t help but be taken aback by all of this. Does he not know who you a--?

It suddenly dawns on you that Jeongguk is new to Seoul, to the college you and the rest of the guys attend, and he has absolutely no idea what kind of reputation you’ve built for yourself over the years.

There’s this brief twinge of regret and paranoia that passes over you when you realise what could happen if anyone who knew you were to see Jeongguk with you, wondering what could happen if they were to start talking. What would they say about you? What would they say about Jeongguk? How shitty would you seem if you were to ruin all chances of him enjoying his college life in peace?

Before you even have a chance to work yourself up, however, Jeongguk appears in front of you, setting down the tray as he chews on a mouthful of fries.

“This is my kind of fine dining,” he says, swallowing before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Ooh, yeah,” you reply, reaching for your cheese fries. “This easily beats every five-star restaurant I’ve ever been to for sure.”

“You’ve been to a five-star restaurant, noona?” Jeongguk asks, handing you your burger.

“Probably twice? Yeah. Once for my dad’s birthday. We went to this really fancy place in Gangnam. Second time was for Christmas after my dad married Tae’s mom.”

“So that’s how you and Taehyung hyung are related. Kinda.” You hum around your burger in agreement. “Is Seokjin hyung your cousin cousin, or your... step cousin? Is that a thing?”

“Step cousin, yeah,” you say, chuckling. “If that is a thing. He’s Taehyung’s blood-related cousin, so I guess we’re just cousins by, like, association? This is confusing. I dunno.”

“Nah, I get it.”

“Like I said though, he might as well just be another brother. He nags like one. Or, like, an extra parent.”

“I can relate to that,” Jeongguk says, nodding slowly with a mouthful of his burger stuffed in his cheeks. “He’s, like... the mom of the frat. It was kinda weird, but... it’s good. We can’t all be a bunch of hooligans in that house, y’know?”

“Yeah. I’m sure without Jin oppa’s motherly ways and Yoongi oppa’s anal-ness, that house would’ve burned down years ago.”

“Yup.”

“You said your dad was alum though, right?” you ask, dipping fries into the melted cheese at the bottom of the paper basket.

“Yeah, he was. He seemed pretty happy at least one of his sons went to his alma mater. Even if I’ve only got about two years to go.”

“Oh? You have siblings?”

“Just an older brother. He decided to study in the States for his undergrad, and ended up staying there for his masters. Seoul’s been a big enough culture shock for me as it is. I dunno how he’s managed to survive in Chicago for longer than a semester. But then again, we’re, like, polar opposites, so I guess if anyone was gonna be able to live in America on their own, it was gonna be him.”

“Do you miss him?”

Jeongguk smiles, a little sadly you notice, picking at an onion ring, saying, “yeah. Heaps. He’s always been the one who kinda keeps me sane, even back in Busan.” You don’t say anything, just watch as Jeongguk seems to reminisce quietly to himself while you eat. “Like, it’s not as if I’m not on bad terms with my parents or anything. I love them. I miss them heaps too. But it’s like... my brother was -- is -- the one I can talk to about anything, because he kinda understands what I’m going though whenever something doesn’t make sense.”

“Must be good,” you chuckle, wiping your fingers on a napkin. “Having someone you can talk to about everything, I mean.”

“You don’t have any siblings, noona? I mean, like, blood-related. Not including Taehyung hyung and Seokjin hyung.”

“Nah, I’m an only child in that sense,” you reply, picking at the set cheese on the wax paper. “My mom left before she had anymore kids with dad.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk puts his drink down back onto the table slowly. “Your mom... left.”

“Yeah. I don’t really care about it though. She left when I was pretty young. To be honest, I don’t really remember much about her.” You shrug, ignoring the weird weight in your chest. “Taehyung’s mom is really nice though. It’s probably still pretty weird. She pretty much got a daughter overnight after marrying dad, but she’s been really good at treating me like I’ve been there the whole time, like I’m not just some kid that appeared out of nowhere. I can see why Tae turned out the way he did.”

Jeongguk seems a little hesitant about saying anything, so he doesn’t, and just continues to sip at his drink quietly, burger and onion rings demolished.

“That was probably the deepest conversation to have happened at a Burger King. Fuck,” you mutter.

You barely have time to flinch away before Jeongguk is spitting out his drink, tiny droplets of projectile soda hitting you in the face and chest.

“Oh fuck, noona, I’m sorry!” he says, coughing as he beats his fist against his chest. He’s going to apologise more, he swears, as soon as he can breathe properly, but when he looks up, wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes because choking hurts, he’s shocked, but, admittedly, a little relieved, to find you’re clutching your stomach as you too struggle to breathe, laughing hard.

“Jeongguk, you dick,” you say, breathless as you dab at the corners of your eyes, careful not to smudge your makeup.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk says, but he’s laughing, and silently marvelling at the way the drops of cola that landed on your cheeks now look like small freckles. “But you can’t just say something like that, noona!”

“God,” you groan, but there’s no malice in your voice as you carefully wipe your face and proceed to throw the scrunched up napkin at his chest, watching it bounce off him and land onto the table. “You’re the worst.”

“You’re the worst. You just ruined a nice moment,” Jeongguk counters.

“I love fine dining.”

“Noona!”

“Jeongguk, you didn’t have to walk me home. What the hell?”

“But noona,” Jeongguk says, hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. “Look how dark it is. How could you walk alone in this?”

“God. You are really something,” you say, shaking your head with a barely concealed smile.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” It’s warm out tonight, the air just borderline humid, a small teaser of what might be a very hot summer, and you’re starting to feel a little uncomfortable wearing so much. “Anyways. How’re you finding Seoul so far?”

“It’s alright. Not really what I expected if I’m honest,” Jeongguk replies, shrugging a little.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” you ask, chuckling.

“Uh... both?” He chuckles with you. “Nah, it’s good, mostly. There’s just a lot more people here. Not that Busan is the smallest city in the country or anything, but, y’know...” He shrugs again.

“Yeah, it gets a bit crazy up here, huh? It’s hard to get bored in Seoul though, I think. But I bet being so close to the sea is amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty great. My grandparents live pretty close to Haeundae so we’re usually there during the summer. This... it’ll be the first summer not by the beach for me, actually.”

You notice Jeongguk’s step slow just a little, and you barely catch the little shift in his expression as he no doubt is hit with a wave of homesickness.

“Jimin always goes back to Busan for a couple weeks in the summer,” you offer. “You could always go with him, if you don’t mind him talking your head off the entire train ride back. I swear to God, he never shuts up.”

“Jimin hyung does talk a lot I’ve noticed. So does Taehyung hyung,” Jeongguk says, the corners of his lips twitching with a smile. “I can hear them talking about aliens at, like, two in the morning. They’d make great swimmers with their lung capacity.”

“Tae doesn’t exercise. And Jimin only ever dances. Good luck getting them anywhere near a pool, Guk.”

“I could throw them in.”

“If you do, I better be there to record the whole thing. I wanna be internet famous.” Jeongguk breaks out into a wide grin. “What time are your tryouts, by the way?”

“Um.” He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his phone as the both of you come to a stop at the lights. “Swim tryouts are at four, baseball’s at four-thirty,” he reads off.

“Tuesday and Wednesday, right?”

“You’re really coming, noona?”

“You don’t want me to?”

“No, I... I do. Really.”

“I could be your lucky charm, Jeongguk. You might set a new school record. Or hit a home run. Or both.”

“I doubt it,” Jeongguk says, chuckling, stepping forward as the pedestrian light turns green.

“You never know,” you say, singing your words as you jog ahead of him.

#jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #fratboy!au

[mezhane]

JUST MARRIED (...kinda)

PART4

I was staring at my phone , nervously tapping my nails on my desk. I didn’t get a text back since I told Marina I was marrying Yixing two days ago. She was upset and I understood. I should have told her as soon as I knew ; I was her best friend and I was engaged to her cousin after all ... She should have been the first to know ... But I knew that no matter how mad she was , she will fly to my rescue if I really needed her. So I sent her a “CODE RED “ message. This is a rule we established when we were younger: no matter what we were doing or wherever we were, if one of us sent a “CODE RED” message, we will automatically have to fly to the rescue of each other. So I did that. First of all because I was so desperate for her forgiveness and attention, but also because today was quite the emergency situation. I was going to have a dinner date with Yixing. I needed my best friend more than anything.

As I was mentally preparing myself for a long scolding from her , I heard the door of my room open brutally.

“Bitch, you have some nerve texting me a “RED CODE” just to get my attention!” I smiled as I heard her voice. She truly is the best friend I have .

“Can you blame me though? You weren’t answering my texts ... Wait... “ My eyes widened at a random thought . “How the fuck did you get into my house? It’s only me here , I didn’t even hear you ring the doorbell?”

“I know where your dad hides the spare key , Mina. “ She shrugged , throwing herself on my bed.

“Wow, stalker much “ I joked, raising an eyebrow.She rolled her eyes ,crossing her arms.

“You better tell me why I’m here quick before you get smacked.”

I laugh loudly then cleared my throat.

“I’m meeting Yixing tonight, we have a dinner date .” I sighed , joining her on my bed . I bet she could see how stressed about this .

“Really?! Well I guess it really is an emergency then ! “ At this point I could see she was excited, squealing , clapping her hands and jumping on my bed.

“Why are you so hyped for? I’m nervous as shit right now, I don’t even know what to wear ! Oh my God, what am I actually gonna wear ? What would he like ? What if he doesn’t like what I’m wearing ? Shit, what if we don’t get along together? And he thinks I’m boring ? And he calls off the wedding? Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea !” I put my face in my hands then ruffled my hair . I’ve never been this panicked before .

“Baby, chill ! You’re gonna be fine don’t worry. Why wouldn’t he like you ? You’re gorgeous both inside and outside ! He’s the lucky one , trust me . “ She held my hand tight and smiled . Her smile always comforted me . “What time do you have to meet him ? “

“Uh... 7.30 ?” I said looking at my phone to check the time .

“Ok, so that leaves us two hours girl, go get in the shower, I’ll pick your outfit .” She pulled me out of my bed and threw me in the bathroom.

As I got out of the shower, she had already picked my dress. It was a mid-length deep red dress, not too revealing, just my type . She paired it with a pair of gold lace up sandals. I’m not the high heels type. Simple but effective. I smiled as I looked at the outfit . She always knew what was best for me . I grabbed the dress and changed .

“Okay, how do I look ? Good ? “ I asked spinning around so that my dress could spin too .

“You look dashing,babe . C’mon get your makeup done quick , he’ll be there soon . “

I sat down in front of my mirror and started my makeup. I was very good at makeup. Not to brag or anything, but it at always been a way for me to gain more confidence . As I finished everything, I looked at my phone to check the time . 7:10 . Twenty minutes left before Yixing comes to pick me up. Marina left a while ago, she told me to text her as soon as we left for the restaurant. I was scrolling through my phone when Yixing called .

“Hello? “

“Hey Babyface, you okay ? “ Hearing him calling me that always made my heart beat faster .

“I’m good Xingie, what’s up ?”

“Um...actually, I know we were supposed to meet at 7:30, but ... I’m already there ,so...”

“You’re there already ?? Eager to meet me ? “ When exactly did I gain the confidence to talk to him like that ?

“Yeah, I guess I was ...” He chuckled lightly. “You ready yet ? Or do you need some more time ? “

“No I’m ready, I’ll be right out !” I was the one sounding eager now .

I looked at myself one last time in my mirror then grabbed my things and headed downstairs. As I was walking towards the door, I looked through the kitchen window and noticed him . I thanked God that the lights were off in my house so he couldn’t see me watching him . Creepy, I know , but don’t we all do that ? I watched him closely and saw him tapping on his steering wheel. Was he nervous to meet me ? Or was I just imagining that to make myself feel less nervous ? I eventually decided to stop stalking the man and got out of my house. I made my way to his car and knocked on the window so that he could unlock the door for me. He obviously was deep in his thoughts because my small knock made him jump in surprise. He relaxed and smiled then unlocked the door when he saw me .

« Did I scare you Xingie ? » I said laughing loudly .

“Nah, I was just... thinking of something “ He answered, clearing his throat.

“What was it ? Something bothering you ?” I was genuinely concerned.

“Don’t worry about it Babyface, it’s work related, and I tonight isn’t about work. It’s about us . “ He said grabbing my hand. I simply hummed and smirked at him . He was always so smooth it was almost annoying.

“You ready to go , love ? I bet you’re mad hungry huh? You always are !”

“Sweet.” I spat raising an eyebrow as I feigned an offended face.

“Shit... I didn’t mean this way, I don’t mind you eating a lot at all... I mean you’re a little chunky but...Fuck! No, listen... what I mean is-“

He was interrupted by me laughing out and clapping my hands . I know it was bad to play with his nerves like that, but I couldn’t help it .

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” He asked smirking.

“I’m sorry , Xingie, but I couldn’t let this occasion pass like that ! Boy, you should’ve seen your face !” I added laughing loudly again , fanning myself to prevent the tears to stream down my face.

“So that’s how you play huh? Just wait till we actually get married, baby , I’ll get you back for sure ...”

His last sentence made me widen my eyes and stop laughing. I cleared my throat and shifted into my seat. It was something about him, Yixing always had this “goody two shoes” vibe, but to me there was always that frightening yet very sexy thing about him. I bit my lip and patted my face, so it could cool down a little bit .

When we arrived to the restaurant, Yixing parked his car and got out quickly , telling me not to move . He ran to my door and opened it for me , offering his hand to help me get out . I rolled my eyes at his cheesy gesture, but I would lie if I said I wasn’t loving every second of it. I stood up in front of him and he gasped .

“What ? What’s wrong , Xing ? “ I panicked, looking around us .

“Nothing, you just look... really good. It’s umm... very sexy ...”

“Really, it’s too much right ? God, remind me not to let your cousin ever choose any of my outfits for me ... “ I whined, pulling at the dress in the areas where I felt exposed .

“No! It’s not too much , actually it’s just showing enough to leave something to my imagination...I love it ! Marina chose this you said? Wow, remind me to thank her ...” He said winking at me .

We made our way into the restaurant. It was a really fancy Italian restaurant, not the type of place where I would normally go to eat with my friends .

“Hello, welcome to the Tripletta !” The man at the reception cheered for us . He was tall and very good looking. I must say; if I wasn’t with Yixing, I would probably be all over him . Yixing must have noticed that, since he came closer than me and put his hand on my lower back.

“Hello, we have a reservation under Zhang, for 8pm ? “ He said , sternly bringing me closer .

The man smiled at Yixing, then smirked at me , telling us to follow him. He guided us to our table and handed us the menus , without refraining himself to take a good look at my clevage . Yixing cleared his throat and thanked him politely. I could tell he was fuming.

“What’s wrong Xingie? “ I asked as if I didn’t notice he was mad.

“Nothing.” He frowned, ruffling through his pockets . “Here, wear this . “ He handed me a small blue jewelry box .

I opened it, already knowing what it was . The ring was beautiful. Very small with a little yet very noticeable diamond on it . Very simple . It was only an engagement ring after all . I took it out and placed it on my finger .

“It’s beautiful,Xing.”I looked up at him and smiled.

“You like it ? I’m happy then . You deserve it . “ He could be so sweet sometimes . “Where is yours ? “ I asked innocently. He raised his hand to show me the silver circle around his finger. I could feel myself smile sheepishly .

“Alright , are you ready to order ? “ The tall handsome guy was back . Uh-oh . Yixing shot him the fakest smile ever and nodded . “Yes, I’ll take the seefood pasta , please .”

“Seafood pasta, alright, and for you, Miss ?” He said in the most suggestive way possible, smirking at me . This was becoming to make me feel very uncomfortable. Yixing must’ve seen it .

“You just don’t know where the limit is do you ?” He said, undoing a button on his shirt .

“Excuse me ?” The waiter was glaring at Yixing like his life depended on it . “I’m just being bold, that’s it .” He rolled his eyes at Yixing... At this point, I was mentally praying for the boy because I knew Yixing couldn’t take disrespect very well.

“Well, there is a fine line between being bold and making people uncomfortable, it’s sad to see you don’t know where to draw it. Now, if I were you , I’ll watch my mouth when I’m talking to her . “ Yixing sat back on his seat properly and kept staring at the waiter , as if he was waiting for him to act up to jump him. Gladly, he didn’t have to.

“Anyway, what can I get you , miss? “ My throat was so dry at that moment. I hated being the center of attention.

“Um.... I-I’ll just take the same as his ... thank you...” My voice was wavering and I had completely lost my appetite.

“Alright, anything else? Drinks maybe ?”

“No that’d be it .” Yixing answered calmly then slowly looked at me and smirked. “ Actually, yes, bring us your most expensive bottle of champagne ! We just got engaged. “ He added , holding my hand tight, for the waiter to see.

Fortunately enough, the rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly, jokes flowing, him flirting with me in the cringiest way possible and me trying hard not to react to it ... We finished our meals and he drove me home . I told him I didn’t mind spending more time with him , but he insisted on bringing me home early, saying he should respect my dad and not make me stay outside at this time of the night . As we arrived at my house , he stopped his car and stared at me .

“You had fun tonight baby ? I’m sorry for the way I reacted with the waiter ... Was I too much ?” He looked worried .

“No , don’t worry, I really enjoyed tonight! But, to be honest, you were a little too much... I can defend myself you know ?” I pouted unconsciously.

“I know that very well, love. But I can’t help it . I don’t really like people thinking they can take what’s mine away from me .” He rubbed my cheek .

“What’s yours? Am I yours now ? “ I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He just smiled at me and put his hand on my knee. “You are , babe...” He kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear .”All mine. And you’ve always been.” My eyes widened at this.

“What?! W-what did you just say?!” I must’ve had the most confused look on my face . He chuckled at my expression.

“You’re adorable... go home baby, and text me before you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning, ok ? Don’t leave me hanging like last time ...” He pointed a threatening finger at me .

“Okay Xingie, I won’t.” I answered avoiding his gaze .

“Bye,gorgeous.” He said as I got off . I just gave him a final smile and closed the door .

The lights were all off as I got home . It wasn’t late, but I figured out quick that my parents were sleeping. I tiptoed my way to my bedroom and proceeded to get ready for bed . I urged to take my phone with me and texted Yixing

[Me 10:30 pm]

Xingie, did you get home safe ? I’m about to go to bed . Thanks again for tonight, I really enjoyed spending time with you!

I decided not to wait for his answer and turned all my lights off to go to sleep. I jumped as soon as I heard my phone buzz .

[Yixing 10:36 pm]

Yeah , I’m home, I’ll go to bed too. Don’t forget I won’t be here for a few days I gotta be away for work . One week max, then I come back and we’ll go watch a movie , yeah ? Go to sleep I’ll talk to you in the morning,princess .

I pouted as I read the message. I was so happy that for a minute I forgot how complicated the situation was . I forgot where Yixing and I came from. I forgot our marriage was never gonna be simple , let alone normal.

[Me 10:42 pm]

No I didn’t forget, one week max ? I’ll take your word for it then ! And I get to choose the movie , yeah ? Come back soon, don’t let your wife hanging, ok ?

His answer was almost immediate.

[Yixing 10:45 pm]

I never will .

I smiled and put my phone away . Marrying Yixing was probably the best life choice I’ve ever made. I knew I was going to be in a relationship with a man that respected me as much as I respected him . Yes, this was the best for me... But how was I gonna be able to handle all the dirty work he does and the rougher side of him was what worried me the most .

[thehorde]

We Are Originals

Previous Chapter

AN: So sorry it’s taken so long to update this! I tend to start to many things at once :/ Anyway, here you go!

Summary: When Thomas stops a young man from committing suicide, he is shocked when they turn out to look exactly alike. Life is not nearly as simple as he thought it was… Humanau, thesidesareclonesau,

STORY IN GENERAL WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, suicide attempt, swearing

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Chapter 4

Thomas had been reduced to a nail-biting, hair pulling mess by the time he was able to use the car to drive to South Carolina.

Okay, so he could maybe, maybe rationalize the existence of one person, maybe two people that looked like him.

But three other people?

Maybe Joan was right. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he should get help.

Thomas’s knuckles were white on the wheel as he pulled into the guest parking lot in front of the university Logan worked at. He sat there for a long minute. Just… breathing.

He couldn’t panic. He needed to figure this out rationally and running off like he did a few days ago was not going to get him any answers. He drove the seven or so hours out here and now he just needed to find Logan. Which reminded him, how exactly was he going to do that? Logan hadn’t set up a place for them to meet. He supposed he could figure out where the science area of the school was and start there?

Grumbling under his breath, Thomas opened the door and stepped out into the day. He walked toward a map beneath some large trees, hands in his pockets. He was suddenly self-conscious as he entered a small crowd of walking students. The students laughed and studied and listened to headphones and some unfortunate soul was sleeping in a corner, and it was all so… normal.

Thomas had never felt so completely disconnected in his life.

It didn’t take long to find the building he needed, and on his way over, he took out the phone he was borrowing from his brother and texted Logan quickly. As usual, the message didn’t go through. Well, fine.

Thomas pushed through the swinging glass doors and walked down the hallway past groups of semi-panicking students. He waited for the hallway to clear a bit before continuing on, hoodie over his head.

“Hey, do you know where Professor Edison’s office is?” he asked a girl.

She frowned at him. “Uh, wow. I… are you related to him?”

“Cousin.”

The girl nodded. “Yeah. He’s in a lecture now, though. I just passed by. Room 221.”

“Thanks.” He was a bit early, then.

Thomas kept going, head down. There were remarkably few people that recognized him, which he was grateful for even if he didn’t quite understand it. 219, 220, 221. There.

He stood on his tiptoes to look through the window in the door. The lecture hall was large and shadowed and circular like a mini arena. Down there at a podium stood a young man with a laser pointer. Above him, the slideshow displayed what appeared to be a detailed drawing of an atom? The lecturer gestured simply at it, his eyes lit up with excitement. He was wearing glasses just like the other one had been, (Patton, wasn’t it?) but while the glasses had made Patton look almost childish, they gave Logan a look of intellectual superiority. He was wearing a sharp button-down and tie that Thomas wouldn’t be caught dead in, and it suddenly made sense why people were not immediately recognizing him. Logan carried himself like an adult. The teacher. And Thomas most definitely did not. He decided he’d think about that later as he eased open the door and sank into a seat. He’d hoped to come in completely unnoticed, but Logan glanced up at the door and his speech faltered. A flicker of something passed through his eyes, and Thomas gave him a tight smile.

“A-as I was saying,” He fixed his glasses. “if we reverse the polarity of the neutron flow…”

Thomas didn’t hear much of the rest of his lecture. Although, admittedly, Logan was not too bad of a teacher. He seemed stern, but he was willing and enthusiastic when students asked questions, which Thomas wouldn’t have expected. It felt like a matter of minutes until Logan’s lecture ended. Students zipped up their backpacks, put on coats, and filed out of the lecture hall. Thomas went with them. It was easier than going against the flow or the crowd.

He exited into the hallway and waited, arms crossed. He checked his watch. Logan should be coming out any second now… Sighing, Thomas walked up and down the hall boredly. He was jittery and anxious and he just wanted answers.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm. He yelped as the person pulled him back. Into a maintenance closet.

The door clicked shut and Thomas was chest to chest with a complete stranger.

The other person stepped back. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed.

“Finding you! You said-”

“I know I said-” He growled and reached up to pull on a string. A small light bulb popped on and Logan was standing there glaring at him. “I have a life that I have built here and I do not need some idiot rushing around ruining everything. Did anyone see you?” Thomas opened his mouth to protest, but Logan kept on. “Of course people saw you. You could be putting all of us in jeopardy with this foolhardy behavior!”

Thomas crossed his arms. The top of a mop was jabbing into his side and he struggled to keep his balance. “Look, I just want answers okay? Can we talk somewhere that isn’t a broom closet?”

Logan considered his.

He shook his head. “No. No, we cannot be seen together here.”

What was his problem? Why was he so freaked out? So there were a few people that looked alike, big deal. Logan wasn’t acting like it was a little thing, however. WHY?

Logan chewed his lip, and his eyes glazed as he thought about something. “Yes. Okay, so there is not an easy way to say this. So I will simply state it.”

Thomas cocked his head. “Okay?”

“You and I are clones along with the others.”

Thomas blinked.

What?

He snickered. “Yeah, funny. I didn’t take you as the practical joke guy. Now, what’s the deal? What was it, quadruplets? I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

“If this is all, it would be quintuplets, actually,” Logan said. “Roman is also one of us.”

Thomas’s mind skipped a few tracks before he forced himself to just accept that. “Five. Five kids.”

“Yes, or we would be if we were born normally. But we were not. I have done the tests and the signs are quite obvious when you are looking for them. For one, we are not all exactly the same age, in fact, there are several month gaps between all of us. Also, there is a genetic signature which simply does not exist in nature. I could say more, but I imagine there is little likelihood of you believing me and I honestly do not have the time. So, if you don’t mind-” He reached for the door but Thomas grabbed his wrist.

“Hey, wait. You can’t just say that and then walk off.”

“Can’t I? I think I am. Right now.” He pulled away from Thomas and started opening the door.

“If you walk out, I’ll follow you.”

That stopped him.

“You must understand, we cannot be seen together. There are people who would…”

Thomas waited. “What? People, who would what?”

Logan pursed his lips, his voice low. “It is sufficient to say that we have disappeared before. Woken up without memory of where we were. When Virgil disappeared, we all assumed he had been... taken. We had found microphones on our phones, in our houses. People were watching us. Studying us. We relocated and thought we had them off of our backs until Virgil disappeared.”

Thomas could feel the blood draining from his face.

The process of cloning is actually quite simple, someone had told him once. They do it to animals all the time.

No. He wasn’t actually considering this. But Logan was making sense. Too much sense.

Breathe, Thomas.

“If you ever feel like someone is following you, leave as quickly as possible. I have…” He dug out of his pocket an old flip phone. “Here. Use this to contact us. We have ensured that it isn’t tapped. If anyone calls you, it is one of us. I am… apologetic that this is how things are, but this is how it is. Now, if you have an ounce of sense, you will leave and never contact any of us for your own safety.”

Thomas took the phone dully. He couldn’t think. Every thought was whizzing around too quickly for him to grab hold of.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Just reevaluating my existence, you know,” Thomas laughed even though nothing was funny. He was dizzy and nauseous but, yeah, whatever.

“I… I have parents. I have a brother. I’m not…”

Logan raised an eyebrow skeptically. “There is a high probability you were adopted.”

And there was another pang right there in his gut. Would his parents really lie to him like that?

Yes.

“I need… air.” Thomas opened the door, and Logan stayed inside the closet, arms crossed. “T-Thanks for the phone, I guess.” Thomas swallowed dryly. OutsideIneedtogetoutside.

He turned to walk away, but Logan grabbed his arm. Thomas looked back, surprised. Something had unexpectedly softened in Logan’s eyes. His shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked very old and very tired. “I apologize for my bluntness. The search for Virgil has had all of us at our wit's end and… I am grateful that you found him.”

Thomas nodded. “Okay.”

Logan debated inwardly before coming to a decision. “Against my better judgment, I imagine this is difficult for you. You ought to have an official introduction. Perhaps… a meeting between us all can be arranged.”

The thought had Thomas wanting to panic immediately, but he found himself nodding. “I would appreciate that.” He didn’t believe him. Not a chance. But he still wanted to meet the others.

“Good.” Logan glanced out at the hallway. It was still empty. “I will speak to the others and text you the address and time. It will be within the next few days in all probability.”

A meeting. He could… he could do a meeting. Thomas nodded again and Logan let go of him. His, what was he, a brother? His brother fixed his glasses and loosened his tie slightly. “Thank you,” Thomas said.

“You are welcome.”

Next Chapter

#yall #here it is #fan fiction #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #sandersides #sander sides #sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #multi-chapter #clones #au #to be continued #boop da snoot #yeah #ff

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The Line [2]

...and where to draw it.

SERIES: Destiny WORD COUNT: 6,335 SHIP: Quinn/Drifter CHARACTERS: quinn leonis (AU), glyph, nikon, leilani, roland

ii. pigeon

n. (in gambling) someone new to the game; someone who may be generally considered unsophisticated, naïve, or ‘easy prey’ by more experienced gamblers.

For the first time in weeks Quinn finds herself filled with more restless energy than the aimless numb she’d felt since returning from the Reef.

It wasn’t nearly enough to beat out the energy by wandering the same Tower scenery she’d been stumbling about within already; in the few days since meeting the Drifter she’d already walked the main plazas and what areas weren’t restricted to working personnel only three times over, and so she makes her way down to the City to expand her wandering there.

It’s around noon when she steps off the elevator on the ground floor and makes her way through the Tower’s logistics and out into the sunlit streets of a City still rebuilding in the wake of the war they’d won.

Everything was slowly returning to normal for everyone else—colorful banners and paints were going back up, open shops and stalls were attracting business, and as she walks a pair of kids run by giggling, chasing after a colorful ball.

Inexplicably she swears she’s seen a ball like that show up in the Tower before. Probably some of the Hunters trying to fry Zavala’s last nerve in an attempt to get him to lighten up.

She’s pretty sure Mercury would sooner freeze over.

In her five years since joining the guardians in the Tower she’s seen more of the City and visited it more frequently than ever before in recent days, and while she still doesn’t know the paths and streets nearly as well as she knows every inch of the Hub, there are still a few places she recognizes, a few paths that she recognizes and follows with idle steps until Glyph guides her back into the main thoroughfares.

She appreciates the effort it’s putting into keep her from focusing on things she doesn’t want to focus on.

Thankfully, the wait for whatever purpose the jade coin she’d received from the Drifter served was doing a well enough job on its own, which was why she was now killing time rather than just wasting it.

She’d rather be spending it by seeking vengeance, but, well—beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least she’s looking forward to something, right? That had to be a step in the right direction.

“Quinn!”

Her footsteps halt at the sound of her own name on the air and she wheels around, struggling to catch sight of whoever was calling her name considering she was nearly a head shorter than everyone else around even with the modest wedges on her boots. The voice sounded familiar.

“Quinn!!” The voice—younger and feminine—calls to her again, louder this time. “Over here!”

Finally she catches sight of a sign she recognizes and she has to fight to keep her heart from sinking. The Tipsy Sparrow—a modest little bar located near the base of the original Vanguard Tower, owned and operated by a crotchety old Titan named Darin-8 that had retired some years back after his ghost was destroyed. An old friend of Cayde’s.

Along with plenty of other guardians. The bar certainly hadn’t ever had a shortage of crowds in the time since Cayde had first taken her there.

It had been their favorite haunt whenever he had managed to slip away from Vanguard duties.

She stares up at the weakly flickering neon sign hanging above the bar’s entrance; the place must have taken some kind of a hit in the Red Legion assault and was still a work in progress considering Darin had once hauled Cayde up by the cloak and carried him back outside just for tracking rain-muddied boot prints into the bar. She couldn't ever see him tolerating his place looking like it was at the moment.

A quick blink as she realizes she’d stopped for a reason and Quinn refocuses on the person that had called her name, finding Leilani standing on the landing of the bar in a warm overcoat, brightly smiling and waving her over. Nikon, Quinn's fireteam leader, treated Leilani like a little sister—consequently, she’d promptly adopted the entire rest of the fireteam as her own older siblings regardless of their thoughts on the matter.

Quinn had almost forgotten that Cayde had gotten her the job here after she’d showed up in the Tower with a near-dead Nikon after their home outside the walls had been invaded and razed to the ground.

Swallowing down the sudden stone in her throat she crosses the street in Leilani’s direction, definitely not ready for more conversation, let alone the kind of endlessly optimistic ones Leilani had become well-known for, but not at all willing to snub her. Breaking the girl’s heart or hurting her in any way seemed tantamount to sacrilegious.

Even after losing her home, everyone she’d known since she was a child, and nearly losing her guardian, her spirit was as infallible as Luke’s was, and Quinn envied that. While she wasn’t—or hadn’t been—shy with her own positive attitude, she was willing to admit she’d been decidedly more cynical than she imagines she once was before coming out of stasis.

Quinn wasn’t going to be the reason Leilani lost that stride.

“I haven’t seen you in a while!” Leilani says as she approaches, briefly adjusting the thick scarf around her neck and stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets. Her shift must not have started if she was still wearing both, and judging by the visible flush on her darker skin she’d arrived early. “Nik said you’d been feeling a bit down, though, so I understand.”

‘A bit down’ was an understatement, but she doesn’t imagine Nikon wants to go around speaking on her behalf, much less when she’s willing to admit that she’s never felt this down in any of the years she’s been active in this world. “It’s been…rough, yeah.”

“Tough missions? Everyone says the war’s done and we’re all safe, but I doubt beating the Red Legion stopped any of the other assholes that want us wiped out. Seems like guardians’ jobs are never done, huh?” She bounces on her heels, eyes going to the sky and narrowing at the slowly growing cloud cover.

“It’s mostly housekeeping.” Quinn replies, unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone as she thinks again of the Prison of Elders. That had been a simple housekeeping mission, and look what happened.

Leilani, observant as she was, picks up on it and turns her narrowed gaze over her. “That’s a good thing, right? Means we’re winning.”

“That kind of thinking is dangerous, ‘Lani.” Both Quinn and the younger girl turn at the new voice, the lilted accent announcing Nikon before they even see him. The Titan steps up to them and crosses his arms, leather jacket creaking with the motion. It was always odd seeing him out of his armor, though not even the lighter clothes could do much to diminish just how big he was.

Leilani sticks her tongue out at his chastisement but doesn’t argue the point. “I’m just saying, it’d be nice to imagine we’ve got the bad guys running for once.”

“It’s not as simple as ‘good’ versus ‘bad’, and you know that.”

Nikon’s ghost—Ion—materializes over his shoulder, white and red facets sparkling in the afternoon sun; a moment later Glyph appears as well, and both of them flit off to the side, holding a conversation of their own in light chirps and beeps.

Her brow furrows, watching them and wondering if it’s only her that can’t understand them, considering Glyph wasn’t by traditional definition, her ghost. She can’t recall if she’s ever heard another guardian cut into a ghost’s conversation as though they understood the little creatures’ language just fine.

“Quinn.”

Her focus snaps back to her present company and she looks up at Nik, not sure if she should feel apologetic for the lapse in attention since he was well, well aware of the current state of her mental health. He looks concerned—as well as like he’s trying very hard not to look concerned in an attempt to keep Leilani from questioning her moodiness too much. “What?”

“How are you?” He asks patiently.

Mouth opening, she starts to say she’s doing just fine, but notices both Glyph and Ion were staring at her and she quickly rethinks the blatant lie. “I’m…tired.” Is what she says instead. It’s not a lie, in any case, but it certainly doesn’t do a good job at even scratching the surface.

Nik doesn’t miss the quick redirect but he opts to not comment on it, glancing at Leilani and frowning at the way she was squinting at Quinn. “Take the time you need,” he says, “I’ll talk to Zavala about getting you back into active duty once you’re feeling better.”

She stifles a bitter laugh; good relations with Zavala or not, Quinn’s not sure that Zavala was bound to rescind her grounding anytime soon, not the least reason being the kind of unkind things she’d spat at him after he’d forbidden retaliation against Uldren.

Nikon had had to physically haul her out of the room and it had taken him reminding her, in that sometimes infuriatingly patient way he was so good at, that Zavala cared as much about losing Cayde as the rest of them. It had ebbed her fury enough to drop it, but she still hadn’t gone back in to say her final goodbye to Cayde until Zavala had left.

She’d never been on the greatest terms with him, her sense of humor and general risk-taking, impulsive attitude clashing with his no-nonsense one far too much to allow anything but a distant working relationship to form, but she’d never actively despised the man until now.

“I appreciate it, Nik.” She says after a thick silence.

Leilani glances between the two of them, clearly aware that something was up and trying to figure out if she should dig her fingers into the muck to find out what it was. Girl was way too smart for her own good, sometimes. All Quinn can hope is that Nikon won’t cave in if she does push for answers with how wrapped around her fingers he was.

Eventually Leilani shrugs and a beaming grin that threatens to improve Quinn’s mood all on its own replaces the suspicious look in her eyes. “Well, whatever’s going on, you and Cayde need to stop down here again soon. It’s been a while since Darin and I have seen either of you.”

Whatever warmth Quinn had begun to feel washes away with a sudden rising tide. The ill feeling of cold numbness returns.

Nikon grimaces, lifting a hand to scratch at his beard in discomfort. “We’re gonna let you get ready for work, ‘Lani. We’ve got mission stuff to go over.” He smiles when she blows raspberries at him, reaching over and ruffling her straight, black hair as he steps past her, off the patio and into the street with Ion flitting after him. “You’re almost twenty-two,” he calls back over his shoulder, “act like it!”

“You don’t age, you don’t get a say!” She calls back with a laugh, smiling at Quinn one more time and waving, telling her a quick goodbye and come visit again soon before heading into the bar.

Quinn follows after Nikon only after she realizes he’s standing in the street waiting for her.

Truthfully, after that discussion she’s filled up her social quota for the day. She had been hoping he’d just been saying they had things to discuss as a way for her to back out and get away from the painful reminder of what she had lost. “Not really many things mission-wise to talk about, boss,” she says, her voice empty even to her own ears, “I’m pretty sure I’m still grounded.”

“You’re not yourself right now, Quinn,” He says as they walk, stepping around civilians and easily clearing a path through the crowds; most people just moved out of his way anyway between his height and general commanding presence. “You’re in pain, and no one can fault you for that. But it’s not giving you the most rational mind.”

“I’m perfectly fucking rational.” She mutters, trailing slightly behind Nikon to let him do the work of pathfinding.

Glyph, of course, chooses that moment to interject its own thoughts. “You really aren’t. I still think we should tell—”

“Glyph, don’t.”

“Tell what?” Nik asks, stopping abruptly and nearly causing her to bump into him. His tone isn’t sharp, but there’s an edge to it that still makes her wince. When she looks away from Glyph she sees him watching her with a careful expression. Focused and guarded and calculating all at once.

Nikon may have been more of a lax, charismatic kind of leader than Gil, but he was no less a leader—and right now, he was trying to make an assessment on how much of a problem one of his team members was going to be.

Or, worse, how much of a threat.

She swallows thickly at the thought. She’d never intentionally harm her team or the City, but maybe that was the problem. Intention.

She shakes her head and fights the wave of exhaustion at war with her frustration and laments the loss of the simple, easy to deal with restlessness she’d still be feeling if she hadn’t run into Nik and Leilani. “I’m just getting stir-crazy, Nik. Being stuck here is leaving me time to think, and…”

She trails off with a vague, aggravated gesture, but Nikon understands her meaning. “Thinking isn’t something you want right now.”

“I need to be doing something.” She confirms, but again wonders if doing Vanguard housecleaning was the kind of something that would help.

“I can’t vouch for you getting back into fieldwork when you’re still all over the place like this.”

“I’m not—” Her mouth closes before she can let the indignant response leave; her agitation isn’t on Nikon, and he, like the rest of her team, like Glyph, doesn’t deserve having the furious storm inside her head turned on him. Fishing for words for a handful of moments, she eventually lifts her arms in an angry shrug. “I don’t know what I’m asking for, Nik, I just know doing nothing but sitting around and dwelling on it…it’s not helping.”

He doesn’t respond. How can he when he knows as well as she does that nothing was going to help her until she could figure out how to help herself? She was lost in a storm of herself without a rudder, stuck between a rock and a hard place, head versus heart, grief and anger at war and tearing her in two different directions.

A part of her wants to accept what happened, put Uldren from her mind and move on, and she knows that’s what she should do because she knew damn well that Zavala’s fears were founded—but it was the very silent minority compared to the other part that was screaming for retribution. Where the hell did she find balance in between those two?

She couldn’t pick one without abandoning the other, and she knew she wasn’t in any place to be able to reconcile that decision.

Exhaling heavily, Quinn moves forward, running her fingers through her hair and then continuing on past him. “Maybe Hawthorne can tell me of a few holes in the wall to slip through.” Her tone is dry.

“Quinn.”

She doesn’t stop to acknowledge whatever discouragement he wanted to give her. “I know, Nik.”

Glyph drifts along over her shoulder quietly, but it hadn’t ever been very good at holding its thoughts in for too long and Quinn isn’t surprised when it does speak up. “You really shouldn’t be shutting your team out like this.”

“I’m not shutting them out.” She says.

“Sure,” It replies, synthesized voice as dry as her own had been a moment ago, “that’s why you’re spending most of your time hiding, avoiding the apartment, sleeping, or making sure any conversations last less than fifteen minutes. And now—and now—you’re keeping secrets and planning on participating in something illegal!”

The latter half of its statement is nearly a hiss. She doesn’t respond.

Undeterred, Glyph speeds up to dart right in front of her face and force her to stop walking, facets twirling and shifting wildly as it spoke; for such a tiny creature, it could be terribly expressive. “Look, I’m not saying you can’t be upset or angry, but Nik is right. You’re not thinking clearly! Cayde wouldn’t want you to—”

Something black grips at her chest and she struggles to smother it before unleashing it full force on Glyph. Expression pinching, Quinn reaches up and with careful restraint gently pushes Glyph aside so she can continue walking. “I’m not your guardian, Glyph. If you don’t like what I’m doing, you’re free to leave.”

She regrets the statement the moment it leaves her mouth, able to feel how much it hurt Glyph without even having to see its reaction. Maybe, despite the fact she had never been risen by it and it wasn’t technically her ghost, spending so much time with it merged with her light and performing as hers anyway had formed a semi-typical symbiotic relationship.

Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Glyph could feel what she was feeling, if the reverse was true.

It doesn’t speak after that, silently dematting and merging with her light.

And now she feels awful. Again. And it’s her own Goddamned fault.

In the span of a few hours she’s gone from waking from a restless sleep to wandering restlessly, despairing at memories she hadn’t expected to surface thanks to her idle feet, frustration, and now this: self-loathing at its most vitriolic.

She’d never expected to understand the metaphor of a raincloud hovering over someone during poor moods, but right then she understood it perfectly and her raincloud was a gale of emotions leaving her holding on for dear life.

It’s barely three in the afternoon and Quinn already wants to just go back to bed.

Her poor mood is so pervasive that many of the people around avoid her as she continues her meandering. She’s left hoping desperately that whatever signal that jade coin was supposed to get came through soon, because though she’s looking frantically for some kind of distraction in the City she’s failing miserably.

Something small and solid materializes in the palm of her hand and nearly startles her out of her steady pace, and when she lifts it up and opens her hand she sees the very same coin sitting there. Glyph hadn’t said a word, still, but maybe it had anticipated the way the soft weight of the coin would ground her.

Stupid.

Of all the things to root her emotions and steady her mood, it was a stupid piece of currency tied to some weirdo she couldn’t make heads or tails of and something unknown and potentially dangerous.

She lifts her eyes to the towering skyscrapers of the City as people move around her, idly thumbing the coin and twisting it within her palm. What was she doing? It was still a recurring question and she still didn’t have an answer to it.

Fuck, she hated feeling so lost.

“I’m sorry, Glyph.” She finally says, quietly, glancing down at the coin again before resuming her fruitless journeying. “More than that, I’m sorry I keep needing to say sorry.”

She knows Glyph hears her, but it says nothing and remains silent all throughout the rest of her trip through the City, even choosing to ignore her entirely when she asks for its help in finding her way back to the Tower.

Twilight descends by the time she manages to find a familiar landmark and veer herself in the correct direction, stepping into the dying bustle of regular Tower activity and heading for the elevator up to the Hub. Her fidgeting with the coin in her hand has been an all but permanent motion for nearly an hour and all she felt was miserable.

She steps off the elevator onto the rear deck of the Hub, between the main plaza and the hangar, and as she turns to head for the bazaar and attached apartment blocks Glyph finally chooses to speak up.

‘I’m getting an encrypted signal, sent to the transponder in the coin. It’s got some coordinates I guess we’re supposed to go to.’ It’s voice is completely devoid of its usual color.

Quinn hates herself for the way her initial, painful pang of regret is immediately swept away by the feeling of being re-energized, pushing away the bone-deep exhaustion her own emotional roller-coaster had left her with.

She turns on her heels and heads for the hangar instead.

“Where are they?” She asks, practically hopping down the steps into the hangar in her speed.

‘Looks like a geosynchronous orbit over Nessus.’ Glyph responds, letting out a series of electronic blips. ‘That’s airspace owned by the Cabal. Usually guardian ships just slip through the network, in and out, no hovering. We don’t have anything that can fight their ships—nothing that Arach Jalaal is willing to spare, anyway.’

She opts not to muse on the subject; it’s possible that airspace wasn’t as airtight as it had been prior to Ghaul’s defeat, especially with the Vanguard’s continued decimation of Red Legion operations.

Her footsteps halt abruptly, eyes fixated on the Frame in control of Tower traffic. It was tapped into any Vanguard policy and general orders, which meant…damn, she had almost forgotten Zavala had put a ground lock on her ship ident.

How did she get around that? Could she get around that?

With an initially hesitant step Quinn changes course and heads for Amanda’s repair station, the same disassembled and in-progress sparrow from the other day hooked up and being worked on, sparks flying from its metal frame as Amanda worked.

Halfway there she stops again.

Amanda and Zavala were decently close, now that she thought about it; she’d heard a story at some point that Zavala had rescued her as a child. Whether the story was bullshit or not, it meant a possibility that if she went through Amanda to get around her lockdown, it might get back to Zavala.

Damnit.

The coin in her fingers twists rapidly as she thinks, then stills, two of her fingers curled around the coin and the other two lifting to tap at the earpiece she usually opted to wear rather than a helmet. “Glyph, can you comm Roland for me?”

‘What for?’

“Please?”

Silence answers her, but after a pause Glyph gives her a beep of confirmation as the comm line comes to life.

“Yeah, what?” Roland says.

She pays no mind to the irritated tone of his voice; she was perhaps the only person on the team that he didn’t mind speaking to, given she was the only one that trusted him completely and wasn’t, well, Luke, so she knows it’s just his usual crabby demeanor. “Listen, can I ask a favor?”

A beat of silence. “What is it?”

“I’m going stir-crazy, Roland,” she says, and though she’s leaving out the real reason for why she’s asking, it is still a half-truth, “and Zavala’s got my ship on lockdown. Can I borrow yours to just…go somewhere for a few hours?”

Another silence, this time long enough that her stomach twists with dejected anxiety.

“I’ll have Ghost give you the flight key. Don’t get yourself killed, you hear me? I want my ship back.” He says, finally, and she withholds her heavy exhale of relief. He sounded aggravated, but the demand was about as close to an indication that he gave a damn about her well-being as she was going to get.

“Thank you.” She replies, not even needing to fake the sincere gratitude in her voice. Even if she weren’t about to find out what this Gambit business was, just the ability to leave the City walls and breathe for a while was enough for her.

“No problem.” The line cuts off awkwardly after his response. He wasn’t great at good-byes, but he was worse at heartfelt emotion.

Turning, Quinn moves for the traffic controller again. Glyph lets her know its got Roland’s flight key just as she reaches the Frame.

“Key, please.” It says automatically, fingers tapping out commands on the screen in front of it in rapid fire and optics not leaving the screen.

Glyph materializes long enough to transfer the data and then demats again; her words must have hurt it worse than she thought.

“Thank you.” The Frame says blandly, reaching a hand up to tap in more commands on an adjacent screen quickly before returning to monitoring traffic feeds. “Bay D10. Have your ghost consult the directory if you need assistance finding your lift pad. Please allow ten minutes for your ship to be retrieved from the hangar cells.”

She’s already turned away from the frame before it finishes getting through its usual operational diatribe, her steps hasty towards the nearest stairwell up to the flight bay catwalks. Considering she’s sure that Glyph is going to maintain its silence as she makes her way across the flight bay towards the loading area, it’s a surprise when it chooses to speak up.

‘I have a feeling I know what the answer is going to be, but I have to ask again: are you sure you want to do this?’

Licking her lips and telling herself that Glyph is completely justified in its worries, Quinn’s eyes settle on the sleek black lines of Roland’s ship as the bay clamps lift it up to the landing she’s heading for. “I know you don’t think this is a good idea, Glyph, but I want to know what this guy’s up to.”

It doesn’t say anything to that but she can tell it’s not fully convinced. Hell, she’s not fully convinced. The question lingers between them on whether or not that was the real reason she was doing this.

“Besides,” she says, stopping in front of her borrowed ship and setting a hand on the railing, staring into the empty windows of the cockpit, “if we’re going to tell the Vanguard about all this, might as well have as many details as we can get, right?”

‘I guess.’ It still doesn’t sound happy, but she refrains from repeating that it’s under no obligation to keep following her into this mess she knows she’s probably jumping feet-first into.

Without her having to say a word, Glyph transmats her into the center of the ship and materializes, flitting over to the cockpit with her following shortly after. Gradually the lights of the console brighten as it goes through a startup sequence, and as she sits down in the pilot’s seat she reaches up to pull the traffic feed down into her line of sight on the screen.

The ship jolts slightly as the station keeping thrusters kick to life, and again when the deck clamps release the hull and it drops before the thrusters catch it. The urge to take hold of the flight stick hits her but she resists, still unable to break that instinct even after years of knowing Tower routine.

The hangar bays had always been designed for ghosts to handle the ins and outs of ship docking, tight spaces meant for a balance between efficiency and safety; even guardians that had issues not having control of their own ships were required by Vanguard policy to only take control after leaving City airspace.

She’d never felt particularly comfortable controlling her ship, but a gut reaction was hard to control.

“Hold on.” Glyph says, dematting into the ship’s systems. The ship tilts as it slowly edges into the flight bay and turns to wait for the traffic controller’s go-ahead. A series of unhappy beeps leave the ship’s comms. “How Ghost manages the controls like this, I have no idea. Ugh, it’s a mess in here.”

She presses her lips into a thin line to keep from laughing, amused at the reappearance of Glyph’s usual charm and color—and at the thought that Roland’s ghost was just as much of a disaster as its guardian was.

A green triangle with an exclamation point appears in the bottom right of the ship’s screens, and she feels rather than hears the engines kick into gear. Within moments they’re in open air; a flight path on screen indicates where they’re being directed, more for her own benefit than Glyph’s. It takes them between a few towering skyscrapers and through the center of the City airspace—directly under the Traveler.

Her eyes lift as they pass under the shadow of the monolithic machine that had given all of them the power of the Light, internal machinery glowing and gently illuminating the clouds that drift around and above it, seemingly caught in its orbit along with the sections of its shell that had shattered with the resurgence of its power when it—rather than her own fireteam—put the final blow on Ghaul in its own defense.

Something still felt foreboding about that. She knows she isn’t the only one that felt that way.

She only refocuses on the view in front of the ship once they leave the Traveler behind and move out of City limits, the ship gently arcing up and away from the ground. Various feeds and data vanish from the viewscreen the farther they get, and the dark blue of nightfall gives way for clear black and sparkling stars as they pass through the atmosphere and into the emptiness between them.

A grid of intricate data replaces the emptiness of the screen, plotting a path through hyperspace as Glyph activates the jump drives and puts them into the lengthy warp that’ll take them to the outer reaches of the system.

She stands and moves away from the cockpit.

Usually this part of ship travel was what made her most uncomfortable, to the point where she was never able to relax until she’d reached her destination. Many guardians in transit left control to their ghosts and, depending on whether they were on the return trip or the outgoing trip, moved to the center of their ship to either catch some shut-eye or to pass the time by checking over their gear.

Or, in Cayde’s case, starting up betting pools and playing cards with anyone fool enough to try and best him at a game.

She blinks away the phantom image from her memory that had overlaid the inside of Roland’s ship, standing there in the ship with her arms wrapped around her middle and a hollow pit in her stomach.

It’s too quiet in the ship. It’s always too quiet.

She’s not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse, but this time, with it having been nearly a full day since she’d last slept and all the emotional ups and downs in between, she feels like she may actually be able to rest while in transit. She was exhausted.

And silent as the ship was, for the first time in weeks she felt like she was truly able to breathe. Out in the black, away from all the memories she was trapped with while in the Tower or the City, it felt easier to put everything from her mind and keep distance from her loss.

A loss that was causing her to snap and turn her anger on the people she cared for and who didn’t at all deserve it. The pit in her stomach twists. “Glyph—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Glyph says quietly before she can get the words out, “I’ll keep an eye on things. Get some rest, I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna need it.”

With a nod she moves further back; the last time she’d been in Roland’s ship had been during the Legion takeover of the system, when it hadn’t been his own ship they’d been using to hop around the system trying to find a way to upend the Cabal’s sudden ironclad hold and stop Ghaul from taking the Traveler’s power for himself.

He’d gotten a new one, since, so it took her a few minutes longer to find where the ship’s bunk was. It felt a little odd to be using his bunk to sleep, but she wasn’t going into whatever it was she was heading for while both physically and mentally exhausted.

Grouchy as he always was, she’s sure he wouldn’t mind.

Though free from the physical reminders of memory she was trapped with on Earth, Quinn finds no more comfort in the stifling emptiness of a ship in open space, especially not while alone. She feels torn, restless as she lays on the bunk, the thought in her mind persistent that she was free.

Free from Zavala and the Tower, free from the Vanguard and their rules.

She was free to steer for the Reef instead.

It scratches at the back of her mind as she drifts, tempting, pulling her under and making her feel as though she was drowning before an uneasy sleep claims her.

When Glyph wakes her a few hours later, Quinn feels less rested than she had been before lying down, and she can’t shake the prickling sensation that she was diving a bit too close to something that had every intention of grasping her ankles and dragging her into the depths.

Then she stands and has to blink away stars, dizzy, and she dismisses the thought as exhausted delirium.

Her ghost waits patiently for her to rouse herself from the half-sleep she’s stuck in, saying nothing as she pauses before the cockpit to bounce a few times and try to shake the dredges of that comforting blackness away. It’s a weak success, but she can already tell that’s she’s going to need some real sleep soon or she’s going to collapse outright. “Where are we?”

“Approaching Nessus right now.” Glyph answers as she sits down, reactivating the viewscreen for her now that she was awake and able to appreciate the view. “The coordinates are taking us to the dark side of the planetoid, but we have to pass through what’s left of the Legion fleet to get there.”

“Think they’ll be a problem?”

Its response is delayed as it adjusts their flight path around a stray Cabal thresher. “I don’t think so. With both Ghaul and Calus gone, their leadership is in shambles. Most of their forces here on Nessus are planetside trying to keep what ground they’ve gained from the Fallen and Vex; not enough bodies to man weapons and navigation on their ships.”

That was some good news, at least. She wasn’t too keen on the idea of explaining to Roland how she got his ship destroyed—nor having to transmit an SOS back to the City for a rescue and having to explain to Zavala how she got off-world in the first place.

The cabin falls back into silence, and Quinn runs her fingers through her hair, watching the viewscreen as they fly closer to Nessus’s orbit. When they do make it to the other side of the planetoid, Glyph beats her to the punch in a reaction to what they find waiting for them.

“What is that?” It exclaims in shock and awe. Quinn almost misses the sudden flurry of data appearing to one side of the screen as Glyph tries to analyze the object from a distance; sort of like taking a caveman’s tools to a high-tech computer array considering jumpships weren’t designed for that kind of analysis. She can’t make heads or tails of the information, but she doesn’t need to in order to share in Glyph’s awe.

They’re looking at some sort of huge, spherical chunk of…something. It looked like a miniature moon, surrounded by a shimmering blue field with large rope-like structures looped around it. Something warps the surface of the object within that field, and she narrows her eyes.

“I’m not sure what it is, but I think it might be a chunk of a planetoid. A comet, maybe? It’s surrounded by a containment field, being dragged along by those carbon-fiber ropes—these energy readings are fascinating—and…” The data on screen halts and vanishes, replaced instead by a single waypoint directing them to an object neither of them had even noticed: a ship, slightly less than half the size of the object being dragged behind it, nearly hiding behind its mass. “We’ve got a docking location.”

“Is that ship where the coin’s signal was pointing us?”

“Seems like it. I’m not hearing any docking instructions from anyone on it, but this is definitely the place. There are a few other guardian jumpships docked there already.”

“How many?” She asks.

“Seven.”

Seven, with her being the eight. So four-versus-four, if the assumption that Gambit was a competition was correct. She returns to fidgeting with the coin after asking Glyph to drop it into her hand, interest and excitement steadily drowning out her exhaustion.

As their ship approaches the hull of the larger one—the thing looked damn near derelict, held together with nothing but duct tape and prayers and covered in mis-matched panels welded into place—a slot opens up, large enough for a standard-sized jumpship to fit into, and its here that the waypoint is directing them.

“Transferring the docking sequence over to the computer.” Glyph says, as the ship smoothly glides into the newly revealed bay. When the bay’s door slips shut behind them and bathes the interior of the ship in darkness, Glyph appears in a flash of light and drifts towards her, following as she pushes out of the pilot’s seat and heads for midship.

“Ready to go see what we’ve gotten ourselves into?” She asks it.

“No,” is its immediate, uncomfortable reply.

#v: destiny #f: the line #sh: embrace the dark #c: quinn leonis #c: glyph #c: nikon #c: leilani