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agent-whiskeys-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be (ii)

Pairing: Hotch x F!Reader

Summary: Over a year after your first interaction with the BAU, it is finally time for your first day as an official team member. Even with all the excitement of the day, the biggest thing you look forward to is seeing Aaron Hotchner again. However, your perfect first day quickly turns out to be not at all what you had imagined.

Warnings: None, some angst?

Word Count: 5,585

A/N: Just know that I promise things are going to get better lol.

NOVEMBER 2007

QUANTICO, VA

For the first time in your life the sound of your alarm is a very welcome one as it rouses you from your light slumber. The whole room is filled with light as the sun streams through the cracked blinds. You had been in this apartment for two months now. It had taken some getting used to but it was starting to feel like home. That was very important to you seeing as Quantico was where you were going to be for the foreseeable future. It took you no time at all to sit up in bed, throwing off your blanket. When you got up to start getting ready, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. Your clothes draped over the chair at the end of the bed, your go-bag on top of the dresser, and your entry paperwork out on the kitchen table. As always, you had thought out every minute detail. You are determined to make sure that your first day at the BAU is perfect. It had taken excruciatingly hard work and dedication to get to where you are now. Nothing and no one is going to spoil it for you.

After getting dressed in record time you grab your go-bag off the dresser and head out to the living room. You set it on the table next to your paperwork and make your way into the kitchen. Scrambled eggs and toast sound like a good way to start the morning so you get out a skillet and a few eggs. Before you even have a chance to turn on the burner the sound of your phone going off in your bedroom causes you to run back in to check it. As you pull it off the charger you immediately smile widely at the name that flashes on your screen.

“Hey there Miss FBI Agent. God, that sounds good doesn’t it? FBI agent. Or maybe BAU agent. Didn’t I hear you say SSA once? What does that mean? Is it good? It sounds pretty powerful.”

“It means Supervisory Special Agent. And anything you call me that means I’m not hallucinating this whole thing is fine with me.”

“I like that. SSA Y/N L/N. Sounds official. Which is exactly what you are as of today! How are you feeling right now?”

“Excited. Prepared. Kind of like I’m on top of the world.”

“As you should! It’s been a long journey to get here, you deserve to enjoy every step. I still can’t believe my little sister is in the FBI.”

Your sister has been your biggest support system for as long as you can remember. No matter what path you choose, you know she will always have your back. It had been heartbreaking to leave her when you moved but you knew it would be worthwhile in the end. Today is when it finally pays off. She has called you almost every day so even though you are states apart, she is never truly absent. Hearing her voice now, getting the chance to share this moment with her, is more important to you than you know how to express.

“I can’t believe that you’re awake before noon.” This earns a scoff.

“I will have you know that I set an alarm for 5:30 so I would be awake in time to tell you good morning before you head off to work.”

“That’s very sweet of you. I’m really glad you called.”

“Hey, there’s no way in hell I was gonna miss your first day!”

“I appreciate that. It means a lot to have your support.”

“Of course! I will always give it freely. Besides, this is too cool not to talk about. You get to catch bad guys. You now have special government access. Plus you can basically read minds. You’re a real life superhero. How totally awesome is that?”

“Oh, I know. Why do you think I wanted the job? I’m glad you’re able to see its merits. Most people find it very morbid. Or boring.”

“Well most people aren’t us.” Glancing over at the clock, you can’t help a small sigh from leaving your chest. Your sister of course catches on. “Do you have to go?”

“Yeah. I only have about 15 minutes. Thank you so much for calling though! I always look forward to hearing from you.”

“Well I don’t have any patients today and I expect you to call me later tonight so we can talk about everything, okay?”

“Okay, it’s a plan. I love you.”

“I love you too. Have a great first day.” You hang up quickly, making your way back into the kitchen to put away what you had gotten out. Instead you pull out a few granola bars to eat on the way. Even though this isn’t quite what you had planned you don’t mind one bit. Talking to your sister is more important. You briefly wonder if she took today off just so she could be there for you or if it is just a coincidence. If it was on purpose, you wouldn’t be surprised. It had always been kind of funny to you what careers both of you had chosen. She is a therapist. You are a profiler. While the two do have distinct differences there are also a lot of striking similarities. It’s just funny how life works out sometimes. Never what you expect.

You head into the bedroom to grab your go-bag, making sure everything you need is in there. Picking up the paperwork from the table, you head out the door and downstairs to your car. After loading your things up, you turn on the radio to the most uplifting station you can find. This is the kind of morning where nothing less than radiant positivity is welcomed. It’s the first day of your new life and you are going to make the most of it, even if it kills you.

The drive seems to go by in an instant and soon you find yourself in the parking lot of the BAU headquarters. There is still confidence bubbling inside of you but seeing the building right there in front of you causes the nerves to kick in as well. It seems so much bigger to you now. With a deep breath, you realize you need a little boost from your good luck charm. The small compartment on top of your dashboard opens with a click and you pull out the piece of paper inside. It feels good to have in your hands and you read the name at the top over and over again. Aaron Hotchner. His business card had stayed in your car all these years and whenever you felt nervous or unsteady, you pulled it out and for some reason it always calmed you. You were grateful to have it now more than ever.

Feeling renewed, you set the card back in its cubby and get out of the car. Things in hand, you stride right up to the front doors and let yourself inside. Once inside the main lobby you head over to the front desk, where a man asks for your ID. Reaching into the front pocket of your go bag you pull out the badge you had collected weeks in advance. A feeling of power washes over you when he clears you, much like a year and a half ago when you had stepped inside the Fort Worth precinct. However, it was a much more intense feeling now.

The journey towards the main offices of the BAU feels like a dream. The elevator carries you to the right floor and you float towards the glass doors that lead into your new workspace. Inside, it is bright and full of life. People move past you with such fluidity that it seems almost like a dance and baby, you are ready to tango.

Soon your attention is being commanded by a friendly voice you recognize very quickly. “Well, look who it is!”

Morgan makes his way towards you, a wide grin on his face. He looks just how you remember. You are glad the first person to greet you is someone you know. Now standing in front of you, he raises his arms and his expression changes as he silently asks for your permission. With a nod, you reach out as well as he pulls you in for a hug.

“It’s nice to see you again sweetheart. I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna show up.” Laughing lightly at this, you feel yourself relaxing. “Look at you, all professional. How does it feel?”

“Completely liberating. It feels like it took me a lifetime to get here and now that I am, I can’t wait to get started.”

“Well, you’re gonna get your chance sooner than you think. We just got a case this morning. They called us in a little early to debrief us. We’ll fill you in on the jet. It’s go time baby.” He lightly pats your arm with a smile as he leads you over to where the rest of the team is, all sat at their desks. Spencer and JJ you recognize but there’s one face that you haven’t seen before. “Look who finally made it.”

JJ stands quickly to give you a hug, patting your back. “Leave her alone. She was doing a lot of hard work to get here. She doesn’t deserve to be teased in her first ten minutes on the job.” She says to Morgan, shooting him a playful glare. “Welcome. We’re really excited to have you here. You’re going to make a wonderful addition to the team. If you ever need anything just let me know, okay?”

“I will. Promise. Thanks.” Spencer is the next to stand, extending his hand to you. Taking it in your own, you nod respectfully. You don’t linger, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Hi. Sorry, I’m not much of a hugger.”

“Oh, no need to be sorry. I definitely get it. It’s nice to see you again. I know we didn’t really get a chance to talk the last time we saw each other but I’m hoping to change that now that we’re coworkers.”

“Of course. I would like that.” There is still a slight awkwardness in the way he smiles but not nearly as much so as when you first met him. He’s the only one of the three that you don’t feel much of a connection with but you are determined to change that. These were your peers now. Your new family. It was important to you that you get to know all of them. It was jarring at first seeing how familiar they are with you already but it doesn’t take long for you to become comfortable as well. However you quickly remember that there is one person you still haven’t met. Turning to her, you extend your hand.

“Hello. I’m Y/N L/N.” She shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Emily Prentiss. These guys seem to have the advantage here. How do you all know each other?”

“Oh, I shadowed them about a year and a half ago now while I was still a student. Today is my first day as a member of the team.”

“That’s wonderful! Well, I’m excited to get to know you as well.” She offers a welcoming smile, one you appreciate. As you look around the bullpen you take note of the fact that Elle is nowhere to be found. At the moment you feel it isn’t your place to bring this up, so you simply smile at the people who are with you now.

“So, I hear we’ve got a case.” You begin, desperately wanting to learn everything you can now so you can fully prepare yourself.

“Yeah,” JJ answers. “It’s a string of high level armed robberies in Los Angeles. Nobody has been able to identify or apprehend any of the unsubs. There are five of them. All of the robberies were almost identical except for the last one. Someone was shot and killed. That’s when the authorities invited us to work the case.”

“Sounds like fun, huh?” Derek chimes in, jabbing you with his elbow.

“I don’t know if fun is the right word. Interesting sounds better, I think. I’m ready to get started though.”

“Yeah, I see that,” He gestures to your go-bag. “Good thing you’re all packed. That was a smart choice. They don’t always tell you to bring a bag on the first day. You’re all over it though.”

“Well, you only get one shot at a first impression. I wanted to be seen as professional. Plus I am very rarely unprepared for things.”

“Good. That’s a pretty good philosophy to hang onto, especially in this profession. The more prepared you are going into it, the better equipped you are to handle the stressors of the job. There’s a lot of tough things you’re gonna have to deal with but if you charge head first with a clear sense of where you’re going and what you’re doing, it’ll take a lot of the anxiety out of it.” You listen intently as he speaks with a tone of sincerity you have not yet heard from him. When he sees you staring at him, he chuckles. “First tip is free but next time I’m gonna charge you. Good advice like that doesn’t come cheap.”

“Okay, good to know.” You laugh, looking towards the others with a smile. “How about you guys? Any free tips for the newbie?”

“Yeah,” Emily chimes in. “Don’t listen to anything Morgan says.” This causes him to roll his eyes jokingly. “Although here’s a real piece of advice. No matter what happens, no matter how hard the job gets, don’t forget who you are. Don’t let this work compromise your beliefs and your morals. There are going to be times when you rethink what you know but don’t let the awful things you see harden you and turn you into someone you’re not. I can already see that you have a real light and kindness about you. Never let the bad people take that away from you or else they win.” Hearing this, your expression softens. For only having known you for a few minutes, Emily already seems to have bonded with you. Enough to give you such important advice. Her words linger in your head for a moment.

“I’ll definitely remember that.” JJ places a hand on your arm.

“Can I add something?” You nod eagerly, wanting to soak up all of the knowledge that you possibly can from these people. “My advice would be to talk to your loved ones as often as you can. Trust me, you’ll definitely want to after some of the stuff that we see. Talking to someone outside of work and grounding yourself in those relationships will help keep you sane. You’re going to be really grateful for a strong support system later on.”

“Luckily I do have a really strong support system in my sister. She basically raised me. She’s my best friend. It was hard to leave her but I know she still supports my decision.”

“That’s so great. I’m really glad you have someone like that.” You nod, feeling a small tinge of sadness when you think about how much you wish she was here with you. However, it passes quickly when Morgan puts his hand on your shoulder as a sign of comfort. The gesture is simple but calming, almost as if he’s telling you that he is a part of your support system now too. You know the people surrounding you will have your back. That thought lifts your spirits immeasurably.

“What about you? I’m sure I could get some good advice from a genius.” You say to Spencer after clearing your throat.

He chuckles lightly and thinks for a moment. “I guess I would say don’t let your age stop you from reaching your potential. You and I are the same age so I think I know to some extent how nerve wracking all this must be. Just know that even though you are young you have a lot of skills and abilities to bring to the table. Chase after what you want and soak up everything you can now. I’m obviously a strong believer in the collection of knowledge so the more you learn the better off you’ll be later. And you have as much right to be here as anyone else. You’ve done the work so believe in your own skills.” The three of you watch him for a moment and he looks between you. “But, hey, what do I know.” His joke makes you laugh.

“No, that’s really good advice. Thank you.” Before you have a chance to say anything else, a voice from behind causes all of you to stop.

“What’s all the commotion out here?” Turning around quickly you see an older man with dark hair standing on the walkway that wraps around the bullpen. His eyebrows are raised as he begins making his way towards you. Upon seeing him you put on your best professional face but the others seem to stay relaxed as he walks over to you. Once he’s standing next to you he offers you his hand. “Hello.” You take it quickly, shaking hands with him as you maintain eye contact. Unsure of who this man is, you are afraid to make a bad impression. As you look into his eyes there is something so strikingly familiar about him but you aren’t quite sure what it is. “Who might you be?”

“Sorry, sir. I am Y/N L/N. Today is my first day as a member of the BAU. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His dark expression immediately lightens as he gives you a small smile.

“Ah. It’s nice to meet you as well. Sorry to scare you. I just have to keep these trouble makers in line from time to time.” Seeing him smile causes you to grin as well, beginning to relax again.

“Of course. It’s not a problem at all sir.”

“Well I’m David Rossi. Welcome to the BAU, I guess would be an appropriate introduction. I promise I’m not always so scary.”

“Just most of the time.” Derek adds, causing David to give him a look.

“Please ignore him. I like to think I’m a nice man. I don’t want to scare you off on your first day.” At this you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh trust me sir, you won’t. I’ve worked really hard to get here. There’s no getting rid of me now.” This causes him to laugh.

“That’s a good attitude to have. It’ll get you pretty far in this career. Keep working, keep putting the bad people away. It may take a while but it’s a gratifying feeling. In the meantime, just keep your chin up and you’ll be just fine. You seem like a bright kid.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“Please, you can call me Rossi. Everyone else does.”

“Okay. Rossi. Thanks.” With a warm smile he pats your arm.

“If you want a prime example of working hard to get ahead, look at Hotch. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that man not at work. That’s why he’s the boss.” Derek says. His words make your breath hitch. Just the mention of his name makes you nervous. It’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him and you only spent time together for one day but even so he has been such a huge inspiration to you. And seemingly for good reason. You already know that Hotchner is going to be the man to impress around here but you don’t mind that much.

“Speaking of, have you spoken with Hotch yet today?” Rossi asks.

“No. I actually have some paperwork that I need to give to him before we leave, clearing me to travel and all of that. Could I possibly see him now?” You try not to sound too desperately hopeful.

“Yeah, of course. His office is right up there.” Rossi points to a door across the room. With a deep breath you nod in gratitude and then begin making the walk over to his office. It seems like an endless journey as you remind yourself over and over again that he’s just a person and you don’t need to be so afraid. Or nervous. Excited? Infatuated? Whatever the feeling is, it’s overwhelming. Once you’re outside his door, you close your eyes and breath before knocking. His voice is clear coming from the other side as he tells you to come in.

Opening the door cautiously, you step inside with paperwork in hand. Hotch is sitting at his desk filling something out, not looking up.

“Good morning sir.” Upon hearing your voice he looks quickly up at you. His eyes are just as dark and intense as you dreamed, fixated completely on you. The two of you maintain eye contact for a moment and the world is nothing but him. Suddenly realizing what you’re doing you force yourself to snap out of it, reminding yourself that this man is your boss and you’re acting like a lunatic.

“Good morning.” He says simply, not moving as he watches you intently. Willing yourself to gather up all of your confidence, you walk over to stand right in front of his desk.

“It’s really lovely to see you again. Being here is like a dream. At the BAU, I mean. I’ve been looking forward to it for so long, I almost can’t believe that I’m here. Now that I am though, I’m ready to work. I plan to earn your trust now just like I did the last time we worked together. I won’t let you down.” With a sudden flush of embarrassment, you grip the papers tightly. You have only been in his office for a few seconds and already you have completely exploded in excitement. Taking another breath, you calm yourself. “Sorry sir. I’m just very excited to be here. If you couldn’t tell.”

There is another moment of silence as Hotch’s eyes stay locked on yours, scrutinizing your expression with calm intensity. For a second you can almost see him thinking, as though he’s working something out in his head though you aren’t quite sure what that is. After a moment he stands up, putting you both on equal footing. Everything about him commands your focus and attention. A quiet prayer hangs on your lips as you wait for him to say your name again after all this time. Just once is all you need and then you’d be happy. No more daydreams, no more delusions, no more distractions. Just once and you can do your job. If only he’d quit staring at you so deeply and tell you exactly what you want to hear.

“I do appreciate your heartfelt words ma’am but I’m afraid I’m at a loss. I’m not sure I know who you are.” With that your heart drops. Of all the things he could have possibly said, this was the most disappointing. It’s such a small sentence but it is a mighty blow.

“I’m sorry?” You inquire, hoping that maybe you misunderstood.

“I’m really very sorry ma’am but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure we’ve ever met.” Nope, you had understood what he was saying perfectly much to your dismay.

“My name is Y/N L/N sir. We did meet a little over a year ago now. You came to my hometown to work on a case and I spent the day shadowing you. I was a student at the time. Today is my first day here as a team member.” Hotch says nothing in response for a time, his expression exposing what seems to be a deep sense of regret.

“I apologize. We go through a lot of cases, it’s difficult for me to keep track of all the people that come and go in my life.” That is all you need to hear to shut down any further fantasizing. You had come and gone from his life a long time ago. Frankly you feel foolish for indulging these thoughts anyway. It was one day a year ago. There is nothing to look into. He is your boss now, not some high school crush. This is a professional environment. This would be for the better anyway. At least those are the sorts of things you tell yourself. “I really don’t mean any offense. It’s nice to meet you. Needless to say we’ll get to know each other now since we’ll be working together. Welcome to the team.” He tries to soften his expression but there is still a severity to it that doesn’t ease the knot in your stomach.

“It’s really my fault, sir. I shouldn’t have expected you to remember me. It was a long time ago and you’re a very busy man. No offense taken. I’m excited to work with you.” Trying to change the subject, you extend your paperwork towards him. “Here’s all of my entry paperwork. It gives me authorization to travel, my medical and professional history is there as well. All I need is your signature and I will be clear to begin working.” Looking through it quickly he nods before signing each of the necessary lines. He hands it back to you and you nod awkwardly before deciding to merely head towards the door. “Thank you sir. I’ll take this to the front desk really quickly and I’ll be good to work this latest case. I’ve already brought a go-bag.”

“Oh, you won’t be needing a go-bag.” This stops you in your tracks.

“I won’t?” You ask, turning to face him.

“No, you won’t. You’re not travelling with us for the case.” Every dream you’d had about your first day at the BAU is crumbling around you with every word that comes out of his mouth.

“Can I ask why, sir?” Leaning down to open a cabinet, he pulls out his own go-bag and unzips it to check its contents. This simple act of dismissal is enough to make you feel an inch tall.

“It’s only your first day, I don’t hardly know anything about you. I don’t feel comfortable taking an agent into the field that is practically a stranger to me and to the rest of my team. It will only compromise your safety and the safety of others. When I get back, we’ll have a discussion and see where you’re at when the next case rolls around.”

“But sir,” For a second your own words ring in your head. You’re the boss. No explanation necessary. You are not the kind of person that questions authority. You never have been and you thought you never would be but hearing your new boss say this to you makes your blood boil for some reason. It’s like Spencer said. You have as much right to be here as anyone else and you have not gone through seven years of grueling work to be put on the sidelines from day one. “I have studied and trained for a long time. I put in the work, the same as the rest of you and that’s why I’m here. I didn’t just show up on accident, it’s because I’m good at what I do. I have all the paperwork and I am prepared to put in the effort on this case.” His movements have stopped now and his eyes stay locked on yours, unable to look away as you speak. Once you’re finished he breaks away and sighs deeply.

“I am not disputing any of that but I am responsible for the safety of my team and now that includes you. It would make me feel much better if I could talk with you before sending you to the front lines. I’m on your side here even if it doesn’t seem like it. But at the end of the day I am your boss and I have final say. The answer is no. I want to like you, Y/N. Don’t give me reason to distrust you on your first day.”

“Yes sir,” Is all you are able to mutter as you feel yourself deflate. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” The shift in your demeanor must have been palpable because his expression suddenly softens and a hint of a smile ghosts over his lips as he walks over to you.

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry to disappoint you but you’ll have your chance soon enough.” With that, he grabs his bag and walks out of the office. In no more than ten minutes all of your big hopes and dreams for your perfect first day at the BAU were crushed. Everything has been happening so fast that it still seems like it might not be real. It’s all you can do to walk back out into the bullpen. Derek is the first one to notice your mood shift.

“What happened?” With a forced smile you shake your head.

“I’m not going to be joining you guys. The boss doesn’t feel comfortable letting me into the field just yet. I guess it makes sense.” Hearing this, Derek, JJ, and Spencer all three share a confused look.

“It actually doesn’t make that much sense. If you’ve got the paperwork, you are clear to go in the field. Everything should be in order. I’m not sure why he would wanna keep you behind. You’ll learn more in the field than you will sitting here.” Emily and JJ nod in agreement and you shrug off his questioning.

“It is what it is. I’ll just have to make the most out of it.” You quiet down but he can see that there is still something upsetting you.

“Okay, come on. What else happened?” The expression on his face is one of determination as he stares you down, waiting for an answer.

“It’s nothing really. It’s just that he didn’t remember me and I was a little disappointed. That’s all. It’s not really a big deal.”

“No, that is definitely a big deal. Hotch is not a forgetful man. Especially when it comes to people. If he worked one on one with you a year ago and he knew you were going to be a future member of his team, he would have paid especially close attention to you. That just definitely doesn’t seem right to me.” As much as you agreed with him you decided now wasn’t the time to push the issue.

“Well, I’m sure he just had a lot on his mind. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, good luck guys. I’ll see you when you get back.” The look on Derek’s face indicates that he wants to continue the conversation but he doesn’t. The three of them grab their go-bags and head to the door. Following them you smile when Derek gives you a side hug.

“We’ll all go get a drink when we get back. I promise.” You nod.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Before he can walk out the doors with the others you stop him. “Hey. Thanks. I know we still don’t know each other that well but I appreciate you making me feel welcome.”

“No problem, kid. You’re one of us now. We have to protect our own.” With one last smile he disappears through the main doors. Stepping out after him you stop when you see Hotch standing right outside the doors. With a small breath you walk over to him.

“You’ll be working with our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. Go down to the bottom floor. Her office will be the third door on the right when you get off the elevator. She’ll introduce herself. She’s very friendly. We’ll speak when I get back.” With that, he too disappears.

In little more than thirty minutes, your perfect day is ruined before it has even really begun. Thoughts spin inside your head faster than you can comprehend. It feels like your fault for letting your expectations get so high. There is no way of erasing it. No matter how many good days you have from here on out, your first day at the BAU will always be a sad memory. It hadn’t been all bad of course. It had been nice to talk with the other team members for the short time that you had. However, that feeling was quickly ruined by your interaction with Hotchner. He was one of the main reasons you were so excited to begin working. You were sure that he would have some inspirational words of advice for you but all he had done was make you feel belittled. There was no way of taking that back. Now you were side lined for your very first case and it was completely out of your control. You really wish you had your good luck charm right about now. Something tells you you’re going to need it now more than ever. The Hotch that exists within that business card is the one you want to linger in your memories. The respectful and professional agent who had made you feel so respected and appreciated. That is the Hotch you need right now but that isn’t the man you’d spoken with today. That is what broke your heart more than anything. With one last longing look at the main doors you gather yourself up and head down to meet Penelope Garcia.

Tags: @talesfromtheguild @lannister-slings-and-arrows @gamingaquarius @gryffindorwriter @nopeforyou @sheerfreesia007 @roxypeanut @ssahotchie @ohpedromypedro @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @readsalot73 @the-mechanical-angel @races-erster @maxlordd @pascalisthepunkest @paintballkid711 @hotchafterhours @h0tchner @ssahotchswife @ssahotchhner @technotic-prophecy @klinenovakwinchester @hotch-stufff

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albaedhoe · 3 years

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endearments

pairing : albedo x gn!reader

summary : having known albedo since forever ago, of course you have silly endearments for him.

word count : 2.2k

what you call him:

(My) Prince

Is the first and the most used nickname you’ve given him! When he was given the title “Kreideprinz”, you had started to call him Prince to make fun of him for it. You swear you call him Prince more than his actual name- it bugged Albedo at first but he eventually warmed up to it

“Prince! Master says that we need to collect slime condensate!” You yell while running to Albedo, who was busy carefully adding droplets of a solution into a flask. Although, due to your sudden outburst, his concentration was ruined and he squeezed the pipette too harshly. The concoction turns from a light blue to a harsh red, the familiar smell of smoke filling the air around you and slight sparks in the flask, but Albedo was too fascinated by the reaction that he didn’t notice.

“Watch out!” Grabbing the glass from Albedo’s hand, you threw it as far away as you could. “What-” Albedo was still confused. Pulling him to your chest and swivelling so that your back faced the direction where you threw the bottle, an explosion erupted and the ground rumbles. Once deemed safe, you let him go.

“I’m sorry that I ruined your experiment but next time, please don’t hold onto the after product of my accident when it clearly gave out sparks and the smell of smoke, my Prince.” You could see Albedo pout the tiniest bit at your tone while he looks away, “Fine, and I thought I told you not to call me Prince.”

Eyes filled with mischief and a soft smile gracing your lips, you were lucky he wasn’t facing you. ‘He didn’t deny that he was mine...’ you thought.

When you and Albedo had been sent to Mond through recommendation by your master, - Albedo being assigned as Chief Alchemist and Captian of the Investigation Team; While you were his assistant and second in command - everyone had first thought that he was an actual Prince. I mean, he had the looks and this regal aura around him so it wouldn’t be surprising if he was one. After many misunderstandings and explanations, the people of Mondstat eventually grow accustomed of your nickname towards the genius.

“Psst, do you reckon they’re staring at us because we’re not from here?” Walking side by side with Albedo, you tried to ignore the curious stares you received from some of the citizens as you climbed the stairs leading to the knights of Favonius headquarters. Some stared openly, some didn’t give you a glance and minded their business.

Not looking up from his newly bought book, Albedo mutters something only you could hear. “Maybe it’s because you yelled ‘what do you want me to cook for dinner, my Prince?’ at the gates.” You think about it for a bit but couldn’t understand what your lover was implying. Albedo snorts slightly, despite you being the same level of knowledge as him when regarding alchemy, you were very oblivious. “Since there is no patriarchy in mondstat, they would be curious if a so called ‘Prince’ were to enter their city.”

A light went off in your head. “Oh! That makes sense, I guess.”

It didn’t matter how serious the situation is or who is around the two of you. It didn’t even matter if Albedo was there at all! You would still refer to him as the nickname and the knights of Favonius (mainly Kaeya) would tease him about it if you weren’t around. The first time you called Albedo ‘Prince’ infront of Kaeya wasn’t eventful but still had an impact on the said alchemist;

“I’ll be at the giant tree in Windrise if you need me, Prince!” You wave goodbye to your partner. “Prince, huh? How cute. Would you like me to call you ‘Prince’ too?” Kaeya teases Albedo as he watches you leave the meeting room. Sorting the numerous transfer documents in his hand, Albedo says nothing but releases a small sigh, “I’d prefer it if Y/n were the only one that does, Captain Kaeya.” Silence fills the room.

Slowly realising what he had just said, Albedo walks away from the knight and to his new lab. Closing the door behind him, he makes sure that no one else is around, sensing if there were any footsteps heading towards his study. Once the coast was clear, Albedo’s gloved fingers card through his hair. Though parts of his ears were hidden among the loose hairs that escaped his braids, it was obvious that the tips were just as rosy as his cheeks. “I told you not to call me that infront of others...”

Starlight

This nickname originated when you paid close attention to the star-like marking on his neck. Though it was slightly unusual, you thought of it as charming and it complimented his outfits very well. Not many people have said this to him before so he doesn’t know how to respond to you.

You would call Albedo ‘Starlight’ when he would be in the state of insecurity and/or doubt. Pulling him aside to another room or a secluded part of a room, you would whisper reassurances and hold his hands or cradle his face. Never will you call him Starlight infront of others, it’s your own secret nickname for him that you would rather people not know about. You call him Starlight to remind him that he is the brightest and most serene person you have met on this earth. To Albedo, it’s comforting and he thanks you for thinking this way of him.

“Starlight, hey, look at me,” you cooed. Albedo looked forward but not at you, softly placing the palms of your hands on his face, you gently forced him to look into your worried eyes. His own no longer held that mesmerising shine and were instead dull and fatigued. “I’m here now. I’m fine. I didn’t leave you.”

One month prior to this scene, you had travelled to parts of Liyue in order to collect ores and minerals for Albedo’s new experiment hypothesis, so being his assistant, you went for him. Promising him that it’ll only take a week, what you didn’t expect was to be ganged up on and ambushed by treasure hoarders, multiple times.

Thankfully, you’re a vision user, meaning that you could easily take down these bandits, but there’s only so much a person can use their powers. Exhausted, battered scathed in multiple places, you decided to rest in Liyue Harbour for a couple of more days. You haven’t even collected half the materials needed for Albedo! You couldn’t just go back to Mondstat almost empty handed. You injuries won’t heal immediately so that means collection time will be much slower than normal, not to mention you have to be cautious travelling back as well.

When finally arriving at your shared home, it was a literal dump. Papers were scattered across the floor and the dishes were piling up. You partner wasn’t home at the moment so you decide to make use of your time and clean the house. Hours pass by and the door creaks open, Albedo walks in. He notices that the house is much more clean than the state he last left it in, his guard is up. That is, until you walk out from the kitchen, sleeves rolled up with a wooden spoon at hand.

“Welcome back!” Albedo’s eyes must be tricking him again. He wouldn’t be surpised since he hasn’t had proper rest since your departure, only ever taking two or three hour naps on occasion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the ‘hallucination’ of you would disappear, but you didn’t. Brows furrowed and plenty of blinking, Albedo concludes that you are, in fact, real.

He slowly makes his way over to you, trapping you in his hold. Burying his face between your neck and shoulder, Albedo relishes in your presence and scent. He wasn’t aware that he was trembling, all of his exhaustion and constant state of insecurities finally catching up to him, until you cupped his face, which leads to now.

You would also sometimes call him Starlight to express worry. To maintain his serenity, he needs to look after himself, of course . Times like these are usually when he doesn’t come out of his study for the whole day. This means he most likely hasn’t eaten or drank anything during this period. You would occasionally pop in with a meal and force him to take a break. Albedo gets slightly irritated at the interruption but he knows you mean well in the long run.

During these breaks he would ask about your day, have you been working on a new experiment of your own or have you found anything that may prove useful in the future, all of that. You happily answer all of his questions, asking some of your own too.

Knock, knock. “Come in.” Opening the door to Albedo’s laboratory you balance two plates, one in the palm of your left hand and the other resting on your forearm. “Sorry to interrupt, but you haven’t left your study all day, Starlight.” Albedo catches onto the use of the nickname, so, having no desire to start a fight between the two of you, he pushes aside unnecessary books off of his desk to make room.

Knowing that Albedo’s appetite was small, you made only a few slices of meat on his dish with a selection of vegetables. The other plate in your grasp had a stack of cookies, freshly made from the comfort of your own home. You hear Albedo mutter a small thanks and started to dig into the food you brought him. While he focused on eating, you focused on him.

The afternoon light that penetrated through the window and lit the room had beautifully graced Albedo with its rays. Golden hour seems to favour the young alchemist as it kisses his skin gently. You watched as his light, ashy, blonde hair frames his face, a few loose strands escaping the braid you put up for him this morning before work. Comfortable silence fills the room except for the scraping of utensils.

Albedo wasn’t sure if he should bring up the way you looked at him in times like these. Your irises were filled with so much affection and love, he could almost see his reflection of how brightly your eyes shone at him. Though, Albedo keeps quiet. Afraid that you may become shy and refuse to look at him. He rather enjoys being the centre of your attention.

bonus ::

what he calls you:

Häschen = bunny

Albedo will only ever call you this if he wants something, such as: to see you blush or simply because he’s in a teasing mood. I’d say the endearment formed because you look or act cute to him. The first time he’d call you Häschen would be a complete accident.

While Albedo was sorting and writing documents about his new found discovery, you were lazing around on the sofa, in your back with arms raised, reading a rather interesting book. To his dismay, Albedo’s ink pot, after hours of torture, was beginning to run out. Not looking up from his papers, Albedo didn’t want his concentration and motivation to deplete if he got up. “Could you get me another ink pot, Häschen?” Albedo asks you politely, unaware of what he just said.

A loud thud bounces off the walls and enters the alchemist’s ears. Glancing at you rather than the book on the floor, he sees crimson flare across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Despite the slow throbbing coming from the bridge of your nose and forehead, you didn’t mind it all. Rather, the blood that rushed to your face masked it, making you only feel a radiating heat. “W-What did you call me?” Thinking back to what he said, Albedo soon matched the expression on your face.

Albedo takes advantage of the fact that the two of you were from a different part of Teyvat, where the language is different. He calls you Häschen infront of others on purpose to watch your reaction, while the others around you don’t understand what it means.

“Sorry to cut the conversation short but Häschen and I need to head out to Dragonspine while the sun is still up.” Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as you whip your head to face Albedo in a double take, giving him a look. If you looked close enough, you could see the mischievous and knowing glint in Albedos eyes. Trying your best not to show your growing blush, you feign interest towards the floor.

“Häschen?” Jean, the acting grand master, asks out loud what everyone else in the room were thinking. Silently pleading to yourself that Albedo won’t say anything about it, sweat rolled down your temple. “Ah, it’s Y/n’s other name. I say it out of habit sometimes.” Albedo couldn’t hide the teasing tone in his voice from anybody at this point. Having enough, you grasp the fabric over Albedo’s elbow and began to drag him out of Jean’s office. “Alrighty, guess we better head off now. Bye, everyone.”

Making sure that nobody was in earshot, you scolded your lover, letting go of his coat and stopped walking to face him. “I thought I asked you to stop calling me that infron of everyone.” Albedo raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, “will you stop calling me ‘Prince’?” Exaggerating a gasp, you clutched the area over your heart, faking hurt. “Now, why in The Seven would I do that?” Albedo chuckles at you and ruffles the top of your head. “Exactly,” he tuts.

a/n :: apologies if there was a mistranslation with Häschen, I used google translate-

I am also aware that Mondstat is based on Germany but lets ignore that as well-

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #albedo x reader #albedo #can you tell how much I love this guy #like-#this is so much longer than my Zhongli one-

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johnsamericano · 3 years

Text

『 ‎ ‎لąҽհվմղ / ᎠҽӀմʂìօղ 』

warnings: mental illness implied, hallucinations, meds, aggressive jaehyun, implied sexual relations.

taglist: @nakamotocore @jisooapproved @la-ra-rumi @winwiniee @yijiujiujiu @nctlovesme

loveholic masterlist.

Lies.

That's what Jaehyun hated the most in the world, lies.

He hated the way you'd smile at him during class, only to pretend he wasn't even there as soon as you exited the room. It wasn't fair. He wanted to confront you, wanted to ask for an explanation for your uninterested attitude, but anytime he'd try, words got stuck in his throat, choking him uncomfortably.

Jaehyun wasn't sure when his interest in you began growing. He was never one to have secret crushes, so then, why you? What made you special enough for him to like you?

The answer came one lucky day when the professor paired you up together for a project. While people usually whined when being put in the same team with someone other than their friends, you seemed all but annoyed, smiling with your white, pearly teeth and waving at him as if he were your very best friend.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” It was his first time speaking to you, beads of sweat collecting on his upper lip. “Jaehyun, right?”

He hated small talk almost as much as lies. Almost. But when it came to you, he could do it all day long if it meant listening to your delightful voice. All of his pent-up frustrations scattered as you started planning your schedule to work on the project. He’d only hum in approval, still too shy to speak to you.

“So tomorrow's okay with you?” Your head was tilted to the side, the tender skin of your neck looking awfully tempting. He pictured himself kissing it, having you struggle under his weight while he kissed it for hours on end. “Jae?” He was pulled out of the scenario his mind was working through by a gentle hand on his wrist.

There were no mirrors nearby, but the tips of his ears were surely tinted red by now. But most importantly, his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight in his crotch area. A touch from you was all his body needed to go insane.

“Sure.” You smiled, removing your hand from its previous spot. His skin itched for more contact, but he was too shy to initiate anything. “I need to go to the restroom.”

He rushed out of the classroom with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, pushing the fabric forward to conceal his growing boner. He relieved himself inside the small cubicle, his own heavy breathing muffled under the sound of a couple doing less than appropriate things inside the following stall. Would that be you and him one day? Probably, but not quite yet.

Your kindness had no limits. That's what Jaehyun thought when you sat down to have lunch with him, the guy who no one ever liked enough to hang out with.

“Why?” He asked on the second occasion you sit with him.

“Because I like you.”

You started hanging out more often not long after that. Even after you handed in your work, you were keen on staying by his side, and he had nothing to complain about. It was as if the universe was finally smiling at him, all the times you'd ignored him after class now long forgotten. He was happier, brighter than usual. He told his roommate, the closest friend he had, about you. He was happy for Jaehyun, of course, but a feeling in his gut told him something was off.

The night before your spring break started, you invited him to a frat party. He’d never been to one, he didn't like them. But you were so insisting that he had no other choice but to oblige. The entire house smelled like sweat, alcohol, and drugs, disgusting, he thought. However, it was all worth it when he finally got to see you, tucked inside a tight dress that showed the figure you'd so thoroughly hide in baggy shirts. He approached you, wanting to greet you, but one of your friends dragged you away. He didn't mind it, the night was still young and he'd have plenty of time to be with you.

Not even five minutes later, you reappeared by his side, giving him one of your signature eye smiles.

“Having fun, pretty boy?” A light blush crept up his face, settling at the tip of his ears. “Let’s dance.”

His hands were firmly gripping your hips as you rubbed your body on his, causing a more than an obvious problem in his pants. Before his brain could register the current events happening, your lips were on his. It all felt too sudden, yet, he enjoyed the way you'd nip at his lower lip. It sent him to frenzy.

“I’m so wet, Jae.” You mumbled seductively against his fleshy pillows. “Want you to make me feel good.”

You dragged him to the closest room, increasing under his adoring gaze. You were so beautiful, and all his. The promise of your union was sealed that night, as you fell asleep between his arms after three intense rounds of pure bliss.

“Jaehyun?” He felt someone shaking his shoulder, it was a male voice. His arms instinctively closed tighter around your naked body to hide it from whoever was calling him, only to realize it wasn't you who was between them, but a mere pillow. “Dude, get up.” It was his roommate Johnny, picking him up after he got a call from one of the frat members. “You got so wasted yesterday, let's go, I'll take you for food.”

Wasted? He hadn't drunk anything the previous night. Nonetheless, he left the house after dressing up. He tried calling you as they waited for their waffles to no avail.

“Jaehyun, I saw your pills today in the trash bin. Have you stopped taking them?” Johnny seemed truly concerned.

“I’m better now, John. For real.” The sincerity in his words put his roommate’s heart at ease. “I found someone, I like her a lot and it seems like she does as well.”

“Dude, that's awesome. We should hang out soon, I'll invite my girlfriend.” A double date, it felt like you and Jaehyun were finally official. But the question remained, why had you left the house early in the morning?

“Sure.”

Because you wouldn't pick up any of his calls, he had to wait until Monday to confront you. During breakfast, Johnny had crushed some of his pills and sneaked them into his eggs, you can never be too safe, he thought. And, oh boy was he right.

You were picking up your belongings from your locker, getting ready to go back home during the break.

“Hey.” He leaned against the closest wall, flashing you a dimpled smile.

“Oh, hey...Jay, right?” Was that a joke?

“Sure, whatever you want. So, my roommate wants to meet you, just let me know whenever you have time and I'll tell him. By the way...” He leaned in, lips brushing against the shell of your ears. Some curious eyes were looking at you, eager to know what was happening. “I really enjoyed that night, but it would've been better if I'd woken up with you between my arms.”

“Excuse me?” You backed away abruptly, escaping his proximity. “I think you're taking me for someone else.”

“What do you mean?”

Realization hit him like a truck. You were ignoring him yet again, but he wasn't gonna take it this time. He hated lies.

“Come with me.” He gripped your forearm, easily dragging you all the way to the janitor's closet. “You don't get to play dumb with me anymore. Stop fucking lying.” You looked like a scared little mouse about to be eaten by a cat.

“I-I’m sorry, but I'm not lying, the only time I've spoken to you was when we worked together. We haven't been in touch ever since.” Even in a situation like this, you still pretended to be kind.

“Lies.” His hands closed against your neck, slightly choking you. “I don't like them, so you better be good and tell me the truth before I do something we'll both regret.” Your eyes welled with tears as you begged for your life, his grip getting tighter with every second. “Come on, angel.”

“I’m sorry, I'm a liar!” Your air supply was running short and your only option was to say what he wanted to hear, even if it was just a lie. “Please!”

“That’s a good doll.” He let go of your bruised neck, letting you fall on your knees as you coughed. “Now, you better stop lying for your own good, are we clear?”

“Yes!” You choked out, unsure of what was happening at the moment.

“I’ll call you later, have your phone by your side.”

You had walked into a trap without even knowing it.

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct jaehyun #nct yandere

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whentommymetalfie · 3 years

Text

Home to you -chapter 5

-Closer-

Prologue//1//2//3/4

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Tommy and Alfie both want to take things further. But it turns out, things might be more complicated than simply wanting.

Warnings: mental instability, hallucinations, self harm, self-hatred, ptsd, panic attacks, disordered eating

Content note: sexual content

Wordcount: 3,7

Tommy wakes up with led in his veins, head too heavy to lift from the pillow and confused about his whereabouts. The warmth of a hand on top of his head tells him he’s not alone, at least. It prompts him to squeeze his eyes open just a fraction to observe the world through his lashes. Alfie’s sat next to him, paper in his lap and with his glasses balancing low on his nose as he thumbs the pages with one hand, combing gently through Tommy’s hair with the other. Tommy stays completely still. Wants to stay in this moment, sink back into sleep and hide from the memories of the past night before they fully catch up with him. His right palm throbs dully and he clutches it against his chest, willing away the feeling of glass digging into fragile skin. He squeezes his eyes shut. Wants to stay in the warm safety of here and now, with Alfie, in bed, with Alfie’s fingers in his hair. Far away from the coppery smell of blood and the voices echoing between the tiles.

“It’s so easy, Tom, so easy, and then you’ll get to rest.”

“It’ll never be anything more than this. What do you have to offer him? Look at you.”

and he looks and looks until he can’t bear it anymore until it’s all too much and-

“Tommy?” Alfie scratches lightly at the nape of his neck. “You awake?”

He nods, because he needs Alfie to talk, bring him out of the darkness. Like last night.

Alfie keeps stroking his hair.

“You gonna open those pretty eyes and greet the day and your companion any time soon, eh? Nearly lunchtime innit.”

He can hear in his voice that he’s smiling. And he wants to see that, so he opens one eye to peer up at Alfie. Who is indeed smiling down at him. Tommy curls up impossibly closer, as if he could fully melt into him, face pressed into his soft side. Alfie flinches when his nose digs into a ticklish spot and lets out an indignant snort, but then continues petting him with a fond chuckle.

“Just a little kitten, aren’t you, petal? Yeah. Bet you’ll start purring one of these days.”

Tommy ignores the comment and drags in Alfie’s familiar scent into his nose.

“How’re your hands feeling?” Alfie asks. “You in much pain”

“It’s not too bad,” he mutters into his shirt.

With an unconvinced hum, Alfie takes his hand gently and presses his lips against the back, just softly, continuing over his knuckles, up his fingers and down the inside of them, featherlight over his bandaged palm, until he can kiss the inside of his wrist. Which sends a thrill of pleasure up Tommy’s spine.

Then, Alfie leans down and kisses him. It brings out different memories altogether from last night. Alfie kissed him then too. Lifted him up onto a counter and kissed him until his head was swimming. He sinks into that feeling now, happily following where Alfie leads.

The steps approaching outside makes Tommy pull away, but Esther just passes. He looks towards the door, unable to relax. Esther has certainly seen him in more compromising positions. But still---

Taking his chin lightly in hand, Alfie turns him away from the door and smiles again before pressing another kiss against his lips.

When the steps approach a second time, this time accompanied by low humming, Alfie relents.

“How about we pick this up later tonight,” he whispers into the hot air between them. “When we know we won’t be disturbed. And I can take care of you good and proper.”

The words light a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, his chest, and fluttering and fragile as it may be, it’s definitely real. So much so that Tommy finds his lips twitching into a smile as he whispers, “Is that a promise?”

Alfie chuckles, low and dark and the way his eyes light up makes Tommy wish he could find more enticing things to say, anything to keep that expression on his face always.

“Indeed it is, love.”

…

The day passes impossibly slowly. Alfie helps him stick to the usual routine, the firm schedule of eating, walking, resting, doing a crossword or two, followed by the usual afternoon nap. The one Tommy swears he doesn’t need but still always ends up taking sometime in the afternoon, cuddled up against Alfie’s chest in front of the fire as he reads, when the ever present weariness overcomes him.

It’s easy enough to fall into the familiar pattern, even if he can’t stop counting the hours until sundown, for once feeling something other than dread at the thought of going to bed. Everything makes him think of it: Alfie’s hands lingering after he’s helped him with his coat. The soft brushing of lips against his forehead as he dozes off in the afternoon. The firm warmth of an arm around his waist during the walk. Little things that remind him. He clings to those, to keep his head quiet. Tell the voices that no, Alfie doesn’t find him repulsive, Alfie likes touching him, Alfie doesn’t look at him and see something ugly and broken. It helps a little. Even if they’re not silent for long.

…

Despite what happened last night, Alfie lets Tommy take a bath on his own, that evening. Not without fussing first, and not with the door locked. And as Tommy reclines against the cool porcelain, all the anticipation that’s been building throughout the day seems to vibrate through him. Despite the heat of the water he trembles, and he tries to force himself to relax without much success. He glances towards the mirror. Where it used to hang, at least, the empty space above the sink. The bones inside of him seem to poke through his skin, bruising his insides and he can’t find a comfortable position. He wishes he could lay down completely, sink underneath the surface until the water makes him weightless and takes the pressure from his bones, but the mere thought of being under the surface makes his throat constrict in panic. Instead he sits up. Draws his legs towards his chest and stares at his bruised knees. Scratches hard over the place where the bone sits too close to the skin.

Alfie asked, last night, if he’d been trying to hurt himself. More than you already had, that’s what he said. Tommy doesn’t know. If Alfie hadn’t showed up when he did, to shield him from the ghosts and pry away the sharp piece of glass from his hand… he doesn’t know what would’ve happened.

The thought scares him enough to stop scratching at his knee and put his legs back down, hiding the thin trail of blood left by his nail.

Eventually he climbs out of the cooling bathwater. It’s a small mercy, not seeing his reflection. But it’s not enough. And they still remind him, even when he can’t see himself, they tell him, won’t let him forget-

He dries himself off and puts on the large flannel shirt, burying himself in the safe scent and the soft warm fabric. Pulls his underwear on and makes sure the long sleeves on the shirt cover his hands, cover as much of him as possible.

When he emerges from the bathroom on legs that still feel unsteady, Alfie is sat on the bed, glasses in place and with a book on his lap. The scene exudes safety and familiarity. He looks up when the door swings shut. Something dark and hungry seeps into his gaze, and it makes Tommy stop in his tracks, a shiver running down his spine under the intensity. He must be looking like a deer in headlights. Feels like one, at least, frozen and helpless.

“Come here, love,” Alfie says, beckoning him over with an outstretched hand. The hand is unnecessary because the command in his voice is enough to physically pull Tommy towards him. The book lies forgotten on the bed and when he’s close enough, Alfie grabs him by the waist and pulls him down onto his lap and into a kiss. It’s surprisingly gentle at first, but Tommy eagerly parts his lips and soon it becomes deeper, hungrier. Alfie kisses him like no one’s ever kissed him before. So self-assured and firm, taking the lead and making him follow. And he gives into it completely, desperate for more.

In a swift movement, Alfie spins them around, leaving Tommy laid out under him on the mattress, legs around his waist. A surge of heat rushes into the pit of his stomach, making his hips buck up against Alfie’s solid frame. Already gasping and aching for it.

“If you want me to stop or slow down, you just let me know, alright, pet?” Alfie says, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. “Yeah? Just say the word. Or give me a poke in the shoulder if that’s too difficult. But other than that all you need to do is relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Tommy nods and sinks into the feeling of relief. Alfie’s got this. Alfie knows what he’s doing, even if Tommy himself suddenly feels like a blushing virgin all over again. Alfie flashes him a grin and plants a quick kiss on his nose. “Alright then.”

And take care of him, he does. Begins by kissing him on every inch of bare skin he can reach, the sharp edge of his cheekbone, his temple, trailing his lips down his jaw, stopping right at where his pulse throbs to scratch his teeth gently against the skin. It sends a pleasant shiver down his spine and Alfie must be able to tell because he lingers on the spot, sucking a mark onto the skin before moving further, down to where his collarbones peak above the shirt. His hands meanwhile are stroking down his sides, his hips and thighs, leaving burning trails behind. Lighting a dizzying arousal that collects in the pit of his stomach, burning hot and all consuming.

Tommy’s own hands are buried in the back of Alfie’s shirt. Eventually he works up the courage to tug it up towards his shoulders. Alfie sits back between his legs. Pulls the shirt off and smiles down at Tommy when he reaches out to touch, running his hands down his hairy chest, solid muscle and the swell of his stomach. If he could, he would’ve told him, how beautiful he is, how much he wants him, how much he wants this. Instead he pulls him closer, tries to show him. Needs to have that powerful body fully pressed against him, needs all of him at once-

Alfie is so warm and heavy on top of him when he kisses him again, cock hard and straining against his boxers, pressing against Tommy’s hip. Tommy wraps his arms tight, tight around his chest and just clings to him while Alfie’s tongue laps against the roof of his mouth, entwining with his own, setting the pace. He drinks in the kisses eagerly, desperately wanting more, more- His hips buck, searching for friction any way they can.

When Alfie’s hand finally trails up the inside of his shirt, tension ripples through his muscles like icy water. The hand stops and Alfie raises both eyebrows in a silent question. One Tommy knew would come but still doesn’t know how to respond to.

Alfie’s seen him in less clothes before. But so many of those times he was too far gone to even reflect on it. Now he’s painfully aware of his own body again. And Alfie is right, he doesn’t believe him when he says he’s beautiful. Only thinks of that scrawny figure in the reflection. He hides his face against Alfie’s chest. Alfie strokes his side gently. Each time a finger dips into the hollow spots between the ribs he feels his stomach turns into knots.

How can he let Alfie see, when he knows what he’s become?

“How could anyone want you? Look at you-“

Look at you

Alfie wouldn’t

Look at you

“There must be something you can do?” Lizzie’s voice is sharp and demanding as she speaks to the shadows looming over his bed. “Look at him, he’s wasting away.”

Wasting away locked away forgotten in this room

“The only option is to feed him more often, but-“

They keep talking over him and he wonders if he’s really here at all

“-considering his aversion to it that might have a negative effect on his wellbeing overall, I’m afraid.”

In this room

Where the door is always closed

And no one touches him except the men in the white shirts with their tubes and their cold hands and all the dark figures who try to keep him still and he’s wasting away nothing but a black hole

Cold mud

Pushing the air from his chest filling all the empty crevices-

No one can stand touching him.

“Shh, treacle, ‘s okay.” Alfie’s voice emerges from the chorus of others, whispered against his ear. “You’re beautiful. Let me show you. Let me take care of you”

He desperately tries to ignore the snide remarks that follow Alfie’s softly spoken words, things that echo in his own head, that’s all, not real. This is real, Alfie’s voice, Alfie’s body against his-

Alfie kisses him but he can’t feel it, the scratch of his beard or the soft press of lips against his.

He tears himself away, presses his face into his chest again as he struggles to breathe. Coughs to get the mud out, has to get it out, out pushes harder into the firm surface to find an anchor, it’s cold against his forehead, cold wet dirt and the smell of earth and

blood splitting pain and wetness trickling slowly down his face

splutters and coughs and chokes as bits of mud hack up his throat.

“God, there’s nothing there Tommy! Will you just fucking listen to me?” Lizzie’s fingers can reach all the way around his wrists. “Frances, get in here!”

“Fuck-“ the weight on top of him shifts but he still can’t breathe- “Tommy?”

he struggles uselessly against the hands.

Until they disappear and footsteps echo across the floor, doors slamming, new hands, shushing, dark figures and faces he doesn’t recognize.

The room floods with warm light and Alfie’s face swims into view. He cradles his face, holds it still, but he can’t feel it, can’t feel the heat against his skin-

“It’s alright, sweetheart, breathe with me, in and out- I’ve got you.”

He’s moved, pulled closer, ear pressed against Alfie’s chest, he listens to his breaths, the steady beating of his heart. In and out. In and out, the familiar mantra.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Alfie’s got him, he’s safe. Alfie’s got him, and he’s safe, Alfie- he clings to the words with every stuttering in and exhale, until feeling slowly seeps back into his limbs again, he can feel the warmth of Alfie’s skin, the firm hold of his arms encircling his waist and cradling his head against his chest. He winces when he comes back to himself enough to remember why they’re in bed together.

“I’m s-sorry,” he chokes out. His teeth clatter together so hard that getting any words out at all is a struggle. “I don’t know why- why this is happening,”

“Shh, fuckin’ nonsense that is. Apologizing. Nothing but a bad habit. If you’re not ready, we’ll take it slower. Simple as that, eh?

He grasps desperately at Alfie, shaking fingers against firm muscle.

“No, no, I want to- I-“

“Shh, love, just you focus on breathing and leave the talking to me. Sometimes your head knows it’s wants something but the rest can’t quite keep up,” Alfie says and rocks him slowly in his arms. “The opposite ‘s true too, I reckon. But I’m nothing if not persistent, so I promise we’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout it.”

He presses his nose into the crook of Alfie’s neck and sinks into his embrace.

Alfie begins rubbing his back slowly. The hand moves up along his waist, outside of the shirt this time. He stays in one place. Rubbing warm circles into the skin. Tommy forgets to breathe.

“Relax, pet. ‘s nothing dangerous, this. I’m keeping it right here, see? Does that feel okay?”

The thin barrier the shirt provides helps somewhat. He nods. And as he gets used to the sensation the worst of the terror it caused before fades, at least enough for him to relax.

“There you go. Doing wonderfully, aren’t you?” Alfie moves his hand further down to his waist, caresses all the way to his hipbone and up again. Over and over. “Yeah, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Just relax. It’s all fine.”

And as the adrenaline seeps out of his veins, his eyelids become heavy. Alfie keeps stroking him, lingering in each spot for a long time. And before he can even feel himself slipping, he’s asleep.

…

For once it’s not a nightmare that wakes him, but Alfie tossing and turning in bed next to him. By now Tommy’s instincts have him reaching for Alfie already in his sleep, so once he drags himself out of it he’s already firmly pressed against him, face buried in the crook of his neck and one arm wrapped around his bare chest. He drags his scent into his nose. Reassures himself that he’s safe. Not alone. Never alone again. And he’s already sinking back into sleep when Alfie lets out a grunt into his hair and presses closer. He’s hard, the outline of his cock pressing into Tommy’s thigh, thick and straining against his boxers. The feeling sends a sharp spike of arousal to the pit of his stomach. He lies frozen, barely daring to breathe. Alfie’s arm is tight around his waist, keeping him firmly pressed against him. His hips roll forward, making Tommy’s heart jump. Heat floods through him, pooling in his groin, and he presses his thigh harder against Alfie, can’t resist. Fuck, he’s so big. It’s a thing he never knew he’d find so arousing: the feeling of a big, hard cock pressing into him. Now, the reaction is so strong it almost frightens him.

Alfie’s arm tightens around his waist and another moan escapes him, hot and raspy against Tommy’s ear. His own cock quickly becomes achingly hard and he swallows down the urge to shove a hand down his shorts and touch himself. Or turn around. Rub himself against Alfie until- oh fuck-

Alfie suddenly jolts awake, unsuccessfully attempting to untangle himself from both the blankets and his own grip around Tommy all at once. He looks blearily around the room before setting his eyes on him, half closed and with a confused crease between his eyebrows.

“Fuck, sorry ‘bout that, love” he slurs. Gestures awkwardly downwards as he relaxes back against the pillows. “Don’t pay any attention to it-“

He clears his throat and once again shifts to pull away. Tommy kisses him. Surges forward and crashes his lips against Alfie’s, clumsy with need, tongues and teeth clashing as Alfie kisses him back with equal fervor. He tugs at the thick arm around his waist and Alfie rolls them over, settling his entire weight on top of him. Tommy spreads his legs, grinds up against him and whimpering at the feeling.

Alfie stills for only a second, but he squeezes his thighs tighter around his hips.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers against his lips and with a growl, Alfie thrusts forward, rubbing his stiff cock against Tommy’s. He moans, open mouthed and desperate against Alfie’s lips.

Then they’re moving frantically together, Alfie’s hands digging into his arse to push him closer, grinding down against him, hard and unforgiving. Pinning him against the mattress with his entire weight. Tommy rolls his hips, heels digging into the backs of Alfie’s thighs, desperately chasing friction and fuck, fuck, he’s so close already- it’s all too much, and not enough, Alfie’s cock, hard and thick under the thin fabric of his boxers, the soft ,heavy press of his stomach, he writhes against the heat and the firm pressure of muscle and flesh, close- so fucking close now-

“Oh, oh Alfie-“ he keens and the release washes over him in sharp waves of pleasure, quick and relentless and absolutely brutal, he’s crying out, voice cracking into sobs and Alfie doesn’t stop moving, chasing his own pleasure against his over sensitized cock.

“Fuck, Tommy-“ he groans into an open mouthed kiss. “Fuck, that’s so good, love. Fucking hell-“ his hips push harder and faster until they stutter. He pushes his face into the crock of Tommy’s neck, hands painfully tight around his arse as he comes, shuddering through his release. Then he collapses on top of him, breath hot against his neck.

A warm stillness settles in the room, where only their breaths are heard. Tommy’s head is full of cotton, muffling all the noise, softening it. Eventually Alfie raises himself up on his elbows and lets out a chuckle.

“Fucking hell, love. Not exactly how I’d pictured it, bedding you for the first time. Thought’ I’d be more of a gentleman about it.” He brushes away a sweaty lock of hair from Tommy’s brow and smiles. “But I’ve always believed in doing what comes naturally. I promise to take better care of you in the future. Do it properly.”

Tommy knows he’s blushing and the cotton makes it impossible to come up with any words. Alfie rolls over onto his side to tuck him against his chest. He’s shivering for some reason.

“But perhaps some drowsy, half-asleep rutting was just what we needed, eh? Just to blow off some steam. And can I just say that you make for quite a sight when you- Fuck, sweetheart, you’re shaking.”

Alfie rubs his back and pulls the blankets up higher around him, tucking them around his face and wherever he can reach.

“You alright, love?”

Tommy hums, even if his teeth clatter together and every breath hacks its way up his throat. Because Alfie is here and Alfie holds him and keeps him safe.

And he’s alright. At least in that moment.

#tommy x alfie #breathe again verse #home to you #peaky blinders fanfiction #disordered eating tw #panic attacks tw #hallucinations tw #ptsd tw #self harm tw #I don't even know what to say it's here it's posted #it is what it is

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Text

Happy birthday, Finnegan.

I was writing this in the office at work the other day and my manager asked what I was doing and I answered that I was writing a story for my friend for their birthday because I didn't want to tell her I was writing fanfic. So, in true being friends with Lucy style, this is two days late. Sorry! No matter what, the creation of this character deserves to be celebrated.

This is set in an AU universe where the cubs are out.

CW: Food talk and a brief mention of alcohol

Rating: G

Please message me if I missed any content warnings or you think I need to change the ratings.

All characters (except Bailey, she's mine) belong to @lumosinlove.

“Friday night and the lights are lowwww, Looking out for a place to goooo,” Finn spun around the island, the wooden spoon at his lips providing the perfect microphone for his rendition. He halted in front of Logan, laughing at what he could tell was a disgruntled expression despite most of his face being covered by the hoodie he’d pulled tight around it, his hands covering the bottom half. “It’s my birthday, come and dance with me,” Finn pleaded, tugging at the overhang of Logan’s sleeve.

“Non, it is too early,” Logan grumbled. “Dance with Knutty.”

“Knutty is busy.” Finn threw a glance over his shoulder at Leo, smiling at the sight of his boyfriend humming to himself as he moved gracefully at the stove. Leo turned to meet his gaze, his damp hair forming golden curls that Finn thought made him look like a cherub.

“Here,” Leo tipped his head at the freshly prepared coffee. “Coffee’s ready, you can caffeinate him. Just needs sugar.”

Finn pressed his lips to Logan's forehead. "If bring you coffee will you dance with me after?" Logan huffed but nodded, pushing his hands through the holes in his sleeves to receive the steaming cup.

"Okay, deal, but I'm starting the song again." Finn's grin was met with a low groan. After drawing the drink out as long as he could, technically, Logan did fulfil his promise, standing to reluctantly move his body to the music.

Finn saw the exact moment Logan chose mischief, his bright green eyes lighting up even more than usual. "Catch me and I'll dance with you properly."

Finn raised an eyebrow, matching Logan's fast walk around the island. He was the first to risk Leo's wrath, picking up the speed to a jog, and took advantage of his longer arms to close the gap.

"Got' cha," Finn grasped Logan around the waist, Logan's head tipping back in an uncharacteristically bright laugh as Finn reeled him in. "You are the dancing queen, young and sweet," Finn sang loudly, spinning Logan away from him and pulling him back when their fingertips threatened to split.

Logan placed his palm on Finn's chest, letting himself be rocked to the music. "You should be singing this to Leo, not me."

Finn glanced down at Logan and despite the fact no words were vocalised in that moment, their eyes said a lot. In an almost synchronised moment they turned their gaze to Leo.

"Nutter butter," Finn said. "It's your turn to be serenaded."

"Oh no, what a shame, breakfast is ready," Leo smirked, pouring a generous helping of maple syrup over one of the bagel stacks; Logan's. Finn considered protesting, but the sight of his own plate was too tempting.

"The serenading will recommence at a later time," Finn insisted, grabbing one of the plates and carrying it through to the dining table. They didn't eat here often, preferring either the island or the sofa, but today it had been decorated with balloons and presents had been piled at the end.

***

"That was amazing, thanks Le." Finn already missed the stack of bagels; bacon and a poached egg layered between them, and dripping with hollandaise sauce. "Can I know what you've got planned now?"

"No problem, anything for the birthday boy." Leo swallowed a bite, sliding one of the wrapped boxes towards Finn. "We told you, it's a surprise. You can open presents though."

Finn worked his way through the gifts, too many of them from Leo and Logan. There was nothing extravagant but they seemed endless and each one reminded him how much they knew him. His favourite chapstick. A crate of beer from a craft supplier he really enjoyed. A set of massage oils and a promise to help him use them. Some monogrammed golf balls. And his favourite, a handwritten letter from the both of them that he would treasure forever. He read the cards from the rest of the team through damp eyes.

“Can you tell me the plan now?” Finn asked the question again once he’d worked his way through the gifts and the cards. Logan dragged his lips against his teeth, as if he was physically keeping the words from spilling from his mouth.

“Don’t give us those bambi eyes,” Leo shook his head, throwing a balled up napkin in Logan’s direction, the item hitting him square in the forehead. “Don’t you dare tell him.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I can tell you want to,” Leo retorted. “We have to clear up first. Put the music back on. I want to dance now.” It was much later that Finn came to recognise this for the distraction technique that it was, hence the three of them were arguing over the lyrics to Montero when the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.

Finn opened the door, a bounce still in his step and swaying his hips to an imaginary beat. He blinked at the figure in front of him, closing the door for a second before opening again. “Alex!” Finn pulled his brother into a tight hug, slapping his hand on the broad of his back. “Sorry, I thought I was hallucinating. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see my baby brother on his birthday, obviously,” Alex laughed, squeezing Finn back until he struggled out of his hold.

“But,” Finn spluttered. “You were in Florida yesterday? I saw your Insta story.”

“I caught the first flight this morning, I’ve got to be back tomorrow for a photoshoot.”

“That’s crazy,” Finn said, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.” He tugged Alex inside, leading him down the hall into the kitchen. “Look who’s here!”

“Hey Alex,” Logan thrust his fist for Alex to bump his fist against. Finn looked between Leo and Logan, both of their faces showing no sign of surprise.

“Did you know?!”

***

It took a while for Leo and Logan to convince Finn they didn’t need to come along and he should spend time with Alex, but now they were alone, he was realising exactly how much he had missed his brother. The conversation flowed easily, Alex having almost an entire lifetime of practise at following Finn’s leaps in topics.

“So, I booked us in for a pottery class,” Alex glanced at Finn briefly before setting his eyes back on the road. “I thought you’d like that. It’s very tactile, y’know?”

“Nice,” Finn grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do that. I hope you brought spare clothes with you, because things are about to get messy.”

It was true. Finn had binge watched The Great Pottery Throw Down, so he knew learning to make even the simplest of things would be more difficult than it looked, but somehow the two of them managed to get the clay everywhere.

“Alex, that's too fast!” Bailey, the instructor warned, but it was too late. The clay sloped to the side, thinning out as it flew off the wheel and hit Finn on the cheek.

“Oops,” Alex grimaced. “Sorry, bud.”

Finn sent a mock scowl in his brother’s direction as he peeled the clay from his skin, dumping it back on Alex’s wheel. However, O’Hara’s were nothing if not perfectionists, and the two of them were determined to create something good. Neither of their first bowls came out right; Finn’s was too tall and thin, Alex’s was short and thick. When they tried again, Finn overcorrected, creating something that resembled Alex’s first. Alex’s second attempt was going well until it spontaneously collapsed.

“Third time’s the charm,” Alex huffed, manipulating his clay back into a lump to try again. He was right, giving a triumphant smile as he watched the grey ball transform. His work wasn’t as good as the ones filling the shelves opposite, their price tags indicative of the skill that had gone into them, but it was relatively smooth and definitely a bowl.

Finn whistled through his teeth, admiring Alex’s work. He laughed as he looked down at his own third endeavour, a small stumpy thing that could perhaps hold five Cheetos. “I tried.”

“Hey, no,” Alex argued. “Give it another go if you want. You’re nearly there.”

Finn rolled his shoulders back, pursuing his lips with determination. Alex watched Finn push his foot on the pedal again, his elbows tucked into his torso as he worked the clay.

“That’s it, apply a little more pressure on the bottom than the top.” Alex encouraged him. Finn smiled, his brother was always his biggest supporter. It reminded him of the time Alex had watched him tie and re-tie his shoelaces over and over again until he’d finally mastered it and could prove to their parents that he was ready for that new pair of sneakers.

“I guess I’m not needed here,” Bailey joked. “ You’re looking good, Finn. How about you two wash up and I’ll get those mugs you wanted to paint. We’ll get these in the kiln later and they’ll be ready for collection in a few days.”

Painting the mugs was a much more relaxing process, both Finn and Alex decorating two mugs each, one for each of their partners. Bailey sat with them and Finn watched in awe as she quickly made stencils whenever they needed assistance getting the designs in their heads onto the ceramic. By the time they’d finished, the three of them had come up with an elaborate plan for Alex to get back at his team mate for filling his hotel room with balloons and Finn concluded that Bailey was the coolest person ever.

“Damn,” Alex glanced at his phone. “It’s nearly 4. Let’s get you back to your boys before I start getting threatening messages from Tremblay.”

“Trust me,” Finn snorted. “It’s Knutty you need to be scared of.”

“Crazy goalies, am I right?”

***

“Wait, why are we at the aquarium?”

“You’ll see.” Alex’s smirk was infuriating. Finn craned his head forward, excitement bubbling inside him. Alex rolled his eyes as the engine rumbled to a stop. “Go on then,” he said, tilting his head towards a modern looking building, all glass and sharp angles.

“You’re coming as well?” Finn asked when Alex slid out the car too, locking the sleek black rental behind him. “Not that I mind.I just thought you had a flight to get?”

Alex shook his head. “ No, I’m not staying for long. I want to see your reaction though.”

“My reaction to what? We all know I love the aquarium but I’m not going to explode or anything.”

“I told you, you’ll see.” There was that smirk again.

Finn held in the urge to stamp his foot. “Urgh! You’re so annoying.”

“Love you too,” Alex laughed, pushing through a set of tall glass doors. A sarcastic quip rested on Finn’s tongue, but it shattered as he looked up to see Leo and Logan waiting in the entrance, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

“Lo! Knutty!” Finn jogged the short distance, “I missed you.”

“Glad to know I’m such good company,” Alex deadpanned.

“It’s only been a few hours,” Leo chuckled, accepting Finn’s hug. Finn smiled, lifting his head for Leo to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, we went to this pottery studio, and then we got burgers and shakes like we used to when we were kids,” Finn nodded. Oh! I made you something.” He turned to Alex who had stepped into place beside him, holding his hands out. Alex grunted, but pulled the tote bag from his shoulder, placing two carefully wrapped items into his hands. “Open it!”

“Alright, give us a chance, Harz,” Logan laughed, tearing at the delicate tissue. Leo was much more methodical, peeling back the layers neatly enough the paper could probably be re-used.

“Did you do this?” Leo looked between the mug and Finn. He ran his fingers over the shiny glaze, a dark blue with tiny white stars scattered over. Inside, a moon phase created a border around the rim.

“I didn’t make the mug. We made bowls, but they won’t be ready for collection for a few days. I did paint it though. With some help from stencils. There’s a little note in the paper somewhere.”

“I couldn’t bring you the real ones, but hopefully these will do,” Leo read, his voice cracking slightly towards the end of the sentence. “Finn.”

Logan whined, the sound curling in the back of his throat. “It’s your birthday, you’re not supposed to give us things.” The mug he held had been painted white and the words ‘sweet like honey’ written over it in Finn’s neatest attempt at cursive along with several bees.

“Do you like it?” Finn rocked on his feet and Alex knocked their shoulders together, a small gesture of reassurance. “Look it’s you,” he pointed out a bee that had a small red cap on its head. The French left Logan’s mouth so quickly Finn couldn’t even begin to parse the words, let alone make any sort of effort to translate them.

“He’s mad that you are making him emotional in public,” Leo provided at Finn’s distressed frown.

“Aww, you do like it,” Finn grinned, wrapping his arms around Logan.

“Be careful! You’re going to break it.”

Alex cleared his throat. “As beautiful as this is, I’m going to have to go soon, so if we could do the big reveal?”

“Alex,” Finn almost growled. “I swear I will phone Nat - wait, what big reveal?”

Leo swung a backpack off his shoulder. Finn only now realised he was carrying two, one of which belonged to Finn. “We’re staying at the aquarium!”

“Well, yeah? Why else would we be here?”

“Non, Harzy, “ Logan laughed. “We’re sleeping at the aquarium. Overnight. Under the shark tunnel to be precise.”

“Oh my fucking God!” Finn couldn’t contain his grin as pulled Leo into the hug too, “Is this a joke? This better not be a joke.”

“Fish, there are children around,” Leo scolded. “And no, it’s not a joke. That would be mean.”

Finn let his boyfriends go, spinning around to face Alex. “Al, are you sure you don’t want to stay? This is going to be so cool!”

“I really have got to go soon,” Alex shrugged, a soft smile on his lips. He jerked his head in Logan’s direction. “Somebody count how many times Finn screams though, please.”

***

“Look!” Finn gasped, pointing up at the glass tunnel above where the three of them lay in their sleeping bags. “It’s a nurse shark.”

Logan rolled over, propping himself on his elbow and looking at Leo. “We’re not getting any sleep tonight are we?”

“I don’t think so.” Leo chuckled, shaking his head. He pointed to the tunnel. “What’s the weird looking one, Fish?”

“That’s a wobbegong, they blend into the sand,” Finn answered, curling into Leo’s side. Logan lay back down behind him, having offered Finn the middle spot for tonight. “This has been the best birthday,” he sighed happily.

“Happy birthday, Harzy,” Logan squeezed his hand through the layers of their bags. “Tell us more about the sharks.”

#finn o'hara #alex o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #lumos in love #rating: g #cw: food #cw: alcohol

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bring-it-all-down · 3 years

Text

I think it’s easy to think of Vane’s season one arc as being out of place with the rest of his time on the show, but I’d like to offer an alternative understanding. I think that Vane’s arc is an extremely cohesive examination of Hobbes’s social contract theory that begins with its acceptance and ends with its complete rejection. This is a rather lengthy analysis, but it’s one that people might find interesting if not compelling.

Hobbes’s Social Contract Theory

Central to Hobbes’s conception of political life are four terms: liberty, equality, fear, and power. Liberty for Hobbes is “the absence of external impediments” such as water being enclosed by riverbanks or humans being chained to something (xiv). This conception of liberty is purely physical, detailing a relationship between concrete things. Next, Hobbes understands equality as being the equal ability of one to kill another; there is no natural inequality among human beings as anyone has the power to kill any other person, either through strength of body or of mind, or of some combination of the two. Because everybody has equal power over everyone else’s life and one’s ability to be free, Hobbes states, “they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man” (XIII). This condition necessarily leads to “continual fear, and danger of violent death” (xiii).

Finally, Hobbes defines power as the ability to acquire some future good. This conception of power stems from the fact that there is no private property in Hobbes’s state of nature: “It is consequent also to the same condition that there be no propriety, no dominion, no mine and thine distinct; but only that to be every man’s that he can get, and for so long as he can keep it” (XIII). Power, according to Hobbes, manifests itself in two ways: natural or instrumental. Natural power is acquisition through using physical characteristics like strength and intelligence, whereas instrumental acquisition requires one to use one’s reputation, friends, good luck, etc.

It is this fear of death and desire for acquisition that leads us to form political communities, which is our natural end; we are meant to live in communities. These communities form when their members “confer all their power and strength upon one man, or upon one assembly of men, that may reduce all their wills, by plurality of voices, unto one will” (xvii). This singular power, known as the Leviathan, is absolute; it cannot be transferred to another body (no separation of powers) or forfeited, and there is no power above it. The Leviathan enforces this power by tying its subjects through “fear of punishment to the performance of their covenants,” namely their covenant to live peacefully with one another (xvii).

While the Leviathan’s power is absolute in theory, Hobbes does allow for its dissolution if it becomes too arbitrary or capricious on the ground that it would then plunge a civil society back into the state of nature, from which point they would be allowed to choose a new sovereign. However, because the state of nature is so feared, people are highly unlikely to dissolve the Leviathan’s power. This, then, is how authoritarian states justify their power.

In this account of the social contract theory of government, we see the relationship among liberty, equality, fear, and power. In order for people to fully exercise their liberty and power, their fear must be redirected from one another toward a singular entity. This creation of an unequal civil society is what allows for the development of private property, as well as concepts like justice and morality, which are absent in the state of nature due to the lack of agreed upon definitions.

Vane’s Season 1 Arc

Initially, Vane appears to embrace a Hobbesian conception of the state of nature. His season 1 arc, I believe, is his embrace of Hobbes’s state of nature through the confrontation of the two people who hold power over him: Eleanor and his enslaver. After Eleanor gets him deposed as captain of the Ranger, he tells Idelle, “No captain on this island's ever known that kind of power. Power that doesn't care how many votes you can tally, who loves you, who hates you, who fears you...none of us have any right to hate her for it. She's strong and we're weak. That's the reality of things here. And no one down there is strong enough to change anything” (1.05). Here, Vane reduces things to power. Eleanor has the power to acquire private property and to cut off pirates from doing the same, and so people––including Vane––fear her. To them, she is a quasi-Leviathan figure. However, Nassau exists more as a state of nature than it does as a civil society, and so the possibility of being her equal remains.

While Eleanor threatens Vane’s power, he doesn’t fear her in the same way he fears his enslaver, Albinus, who threatens his life. This constant fear of Albinus manifests itself in Vane hallucinating Albinus’s presence in Nassau. This vision causes Vane to realize that if he is to become equal to Eleanor, he must first become equals with Albinus. He initially seeks to overtake Albinus through taking away his other slaves. He pitches Nassau to them as a place “where strong men live lives of pleasure, not labor, a place where you could be feared and respected once again” (1.07). For Vane, the pleasure comes through realizing one’s equality and thus one’s ability to instill fear rather than have fear instilled in them. As is typical in the state of nature, Vane’s relationship with Albinus ends first with Albinus believing he killed Vane and then with Vane actually killing Albinus.

Vane’s conversation with Jack upon his return to Nassau cements his role as a Hobbesian figure. He tells Jack, “In some ways, Jack, it had to come to this, don't you think?...Me deciding if you live or die” (1.08). Over the course of the season, Vane has increasingly reduced relationships to the ability one has to kill the other and the fear such ability instills in people. Following a Hobbesian model, then, we would expect Vane to think the formation of civil society with a Leviathan figure to be good, but this is not where his season 2 and 3 arcs go.

Vane’s Season 2 Arc

Indeed, Vane quite explicitly rejects Hobbesian social contract theory. While Hobbes argues that humans are driven toward society in part because of a natural “desire of such things as are necessary to comfortable living” (xiii), Vane says to Flint, “‘Give us your submission, and we will give you the comfort you need.’ No, I can think of no measure of comfort worth that price” (3.08). For Vane, then, living in the “pre-political” Nassau is better than submitting to the power of the state. This is the case because no such “state of nature” exists; there will always be a state attempting to impose its authority on Nassau.

Vane’s separation from Hobbesian political thought, then, begins as a matter of practicality. He does not abandon fear of death as the starting point, but he expands his thought beyond himself. It is no longer simply his own fear of death that drives him, but the fear within his fellow pirates of that same death. After he learns that Charlestown has captured and will kill Flint he tells his and Flint’s crew that “Nassau is strongest when she’s feared. And if what promises to happen here tomorrow actually happens, a trophy made of one of her most notorious captains, she may never be feared again” (2.09). He reiterates this point to his quartermaster, who is concerned that his crew will kill Flint’s crew to steal the Man of War: “Tell them if this ship tries to run on a skeleton crew, they’re going to get chased, they’re going to get caught, and they’re going to get killed” (2.10). It is not fear of one another, then, that drives Vane toward a community but rather fear of the authority of the state. While he and Flint are equals, he realizes that neither is equal to the state, England, and if they remain as individuals, the state will kill them one by one.

Flint’s (and then Vane’s) trial stands as an example of a Hobbesian state; the lawmakers are the executors are the jury. All sovereign authority is placed in the hands of one body with no authority above it. When confronted with this example, Vane comes to conceptualize of community as the only means of instilling fear in the state; as the state is unified, so must be the pirates.

In accord with Flint telling him “we remind them that they were right to be afraid,” he provides a refutation of Hobbesian sovereignty for the audience: “these men convinced you that they speak for you, that the power you’ve given them is used in your interests. That the prisoner before you is your enemy and they your friends. For those of you who live to see tomorrow... know that you had a choice to see the truth and you let yourselves be convinced otherwise” (2.10). He reminds them that they’ve granted the sovereign power on the basis of it working toward their collective good and can thus conceivably revoke said power. He then illustrates that the sovereign cannot fulfill its purpose of providing for their safety against the threat of pirates and therefore the covenant on which the sovereign’s authority is based is inherently faulty. He pokes metaphorical holes in Hobbes’s contract theory of government before he pokes literal holes in Charlestown with his canons.

Vane’s Season 3 Arc

Vane’s season 3 arc offers an alternative foundation for civil society than fear and desire for property: friendship. When Vane confronts Jack in the first episode of the season for lying to Vane about using slave labor to rebuild the fort when Vane stood up for Jack against Flint, Jack lays it out for Vane: “you and I had been through enough shit for you to know that I would do the same for you, that I have done the same for you, and would again without hesitation. I made a commitment to you, with you, to restore this place, to make it strong again...Please know that I meant no slight by it. No lack of respect or friendship. It's quite the opposite” (3.01). Vane is certainly right to be angry about enslaving people, but Jack is correct in reminding him that this new effort to free Nassau has as its basis friendship and mutual respect.

At this point, however, Vane does not yet understand what friendship entails. For that, he needs to confront his understanding of friendship, which he does through the return of Edward Teach to Nassau. The conception of friendship Vane learned from Teach is simply to let people live when you could have killed them. Teach did this for Vane when Vane betrayed him for Eleanor, and he did it for Jack after Jack lost the pearls in the ocean, and it was his offer to Eleanor after she betrayed him by freeing Abigail from him.

When Teach offers to defend Nassau if afterwards Vane sails with him away from Nassau forever, he outlines what their relationship is: “I do not seek your partnership because I am too weak to defend myself. I don't seek it to protect my things or to increase profit...There is an instinct to leave behind something made in one's own image. Nature has denied me the ability, it would seem, but not the need” (3.03). This understanding of their relationship rejects the fundamental Hobbesian basis for such things––it’s not fear of death or desire for acquisition––and instead points toward a desire for a certain kind of immortality. However, this relationship still fundamentally falls within a Hobbesian conception of the family which is artificially constructed in civil society and which requires the children to obey and honor their fathers. Therefore, this, too, is a relationship not based on friendship.

It is Jack’s conversation with Vane before he leaves with Teach that offers Vane a different kind of friendship. Despite Woodes Rogers’ early arrival ruining their plans to defend Nassau and the target placed not only on Vane but on all pirates close to him, Jack refuses to leave with Vane. His refusal is predicated on the fact that he desires freedom: “Teach respects you...but me, I have no interest in living as a target of his….Nor would I be a ward of yours. I've made something for myself here. I'll make it again somehow, but I've come too far to go back” (3.04). Here, Jack presents friendship as a type of equality predicated on freedom. Friendship must be a choice rather than the obligation to repay a debt, and it must result in some type of good for the parties beyond the acquisition of material goods. Jack refuses to go with Vane because his desire to make something of himself is greater than his desire to live a subservient life.

Flint reiterates this notion of freedom to Vane when he comes to ask him to rejoin the effort to free Nassau from England. Vane tells him “my pledge to him began a long time before I ever knew your name. What I owe him…” (3.06). In response, Flint says this project is too important to be clouded by any of that: “Forget me, forget Teach, forget loyalty, compacts, honor, debts, all of it. The only question that matters is this. Who are you?” (3.06). While Hobbes defines liberty in relation to external impediments, both Jack and Flint understand it as something greater than that, something that points inward and moves beyond the desire for safety or the terms of contracts, be they written or otherwise.

After being presented with this understanding a second time, Vane finally accepts it as true. He leaves with Flint to join the revolution. He allows himself to be arrested in order to free Jack. He does all of this on the basis of this new understanding of friendship. When Jack asks why he came back to Nassau, Vane jokingly tells him, “got worried you two'd be lost without me,” but it’s more sincere than joke (3.08). He is committed fully to liberating Nassau not to return it to the days of Teach but to provide it as a counter to the social contract theory of civil society. His final speech before being hanged reveals this shift in his political thought:

These men who brought me here today do not fear me. They brought me here today because they fear you. Because they know that my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still. They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice. But know this. We are many. They are few. To fear death is a choice. And they can't hang us all (3.09).

He has gone from believing the fear of death to be the greatest fear, the motivator for all human action, to somebody choosing to let civilization kill him. He does this because he now knows there are things worse than death and things greater than physical freedom. He does this because he understands that he owes his fellow pirates the chance to obtain this freedom for themselves. He does this because he has come to recognize that friendship is the act of helping people better themselves.

Conclusion

Vane’s arc therefore acts as a critique of Hobbesian social contract theory. He demonstrates that the sovereign’s power is based on an illegitimate conception of human nature that emphasizes the desire to dominate others. But he also illustrates the fundamental problems with living in a pre-political community attempting to exist outside of the sovereign power. Through his arc, then, we are presented with the fact that a legitimate society based on true friendship in achieving the good of all is not only possible but is worth the sacrifice of one’s life.

#black sails #Charles Vane

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thatasianstereotype · 4 years

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Fuck. I’m Gay.

I’ve been reading a lot of ml salt fics lately (mainly @unmaskedagain which is a literal goldmine of saltiness). And getting into the Damienette ship. Marinette really does deserves better (Fuck Canon) but so does Adrien. He is not a “sidekick”. Chat Noir and Ladybug are partners = equals. So I decided why not write a fic where Adrien gets his own happy ending in the form of a grumpy assassin-turned-vigilante that loves animals more than people.

Somewhat of a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken.

Lila Rossi is a bitch and everyone knew it. Well, by everyone, Adrien means himself, his good-amazing-make-pastries-for-him friend Marinette, his maybe-not-really-sure friend Chloe and his-not-that-close-really-classmate Nathaniel.

Yeah. It was a small number.

But Lila is still a bitch.

Anyway, Lila’s lies and manipulations have disturbed the status quo and not in a good way. She ended up making the majority of the class fawn over her like she was a perfect goddess and not a pompous-temperamental-hormonal teenager. Teenagers were prone to be gullible; he can understand his classmates being inclined to believe her. But this was utterly ridiculous (man, Chloe is rubbing off on him). No. You know what’s even more ridiculous? Ms. Bustier letting Lila get away with it. She doesn’t even stop the class mistreating Marinette who claimed she was a bully just because of you know who - Fucking Lila Rossi. The audacity of that bitch and her bitchy followers, am I right?

Growing up he watched the tv shows and the animes. High schools always had their drama but he thought that was to get some plot going on. He didn’t think it was an actual thing that happens in real life. But he was proven wrong. Françoise Dupont High School had their drama and it was way worse than what he watched on screen.

The worst part was that he couldn’t get away from Lila. Or he’ll be pulled from school (Fuck you Dad). He had to sit next to that bitch and listen to her drone on and on about things they both knew she didn’t do, about things she promised to do for her ever gullible followers friends. And couldn’t say anything against it if he wanted to stay in school. But even his discreet questioning didn’t do that much. It got some of the class to think something’s possibly fishy with her stories but not enough to think Lila was evil. So he just gave up. Because what was even the point?

He was distancing himself from Alya and Nino. He couldn’t really be friends with people who thought Lila held the sun and moon. They didn’t hang out as much as they used to and he made excuses when they did invite him to stuff. Lately, he was making outrageous excuses - like he had to take his cat to the vet even though he didn’t have a cat - to see if they caught on. They didn’t. It was fun but he didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad about that. But feeling sad-depressed-pain over it was a bitch so he decided to take his victories as they come.

Chloe had left the school earlier on. Her mom wanted to spend one-on-one time with her daughter (Yeah, Audrey is better at being a mother here). She was completely out of this drama mess. And Nathaniel kept his head down to not paint a target on himself.

His only consolation and ally in this whole mess was Marinette. His darling angel. His sunshine incarnate. His own goddess (not like that bitch Lila let’s get one thing straight).

When he was feeling overwhelmed (which was a lot), he spent it at her house. They spent it discussing fashion, trash talking Liar-la and the sheep class, playing video games, and making/eating the best baked goods in all of Paris. If he wasn’t at his photo shoots or at school, he was at her house. And with how often they spent time with each other, it wasn’t long before they accidentally revealed their alter egos to each other.

(The class’ Everyday Ladybug was actually Ladybug. How amazing is that! Isn’t Marinette the absolute coolest?!)

Since they outed themselves to each other, they had to give up their miraculous. And new heroes had to be chosen. As the guardian, Marinette decided to give the Ladybug miraculous to herself and the Cat one to Adrien. And make them the superheros of Paris.

(Just when he thought that Marinette couldn’t get any cooler)

They both collectively decided that being friends were for the best and put away their obsession crush over the other far far away. Now they were best friends-almost siblings. Oh who was he kidding? He was an honorary Dupain-Cheng. Marinette and her parents said so. And who was he to deny the goddess?

All was well.

Until he met this gorgeous boy with raven black hair and piercing green eyes that made him question everything in life.

Like fuck. His life wasn’t hard enough already?

It was a slow patrol. Just stopped a few petty crimes. No akuma tonight. He wasn’t really expecting much to happen.

Mari said patrolling regularly gives citizens a sense of security and it helps if one of them were on scene if an akuma does appear.

He didn’t mind. He loved running on the rooftops and feeling the wind in his face. After some time, he stopped and stood on top of one of the tallest buildings. Just soaking the view. The peace and serenity of it all. Seeing the glowing lights of his beloved city. Seeing the Eiffel Tower standing tall and proud.

(Forget school. Forget Liar-la and her hoard of bitches)

This was his city. This was why he fights Hawk Moth with Ladybug. They had something precious to protect.

He was done patrolling the regular routes and all his schoolwork was already finished. He could go to sleep but he didn’t feel that tired. And he really didn’t want to go back home. Mari shared her theory on his dad being Hawk Moth. She had really good reasons and a plethora of proof. If they could switch miraculous, why couldn’t he and Mayura - most likely Nathalie? Which would explain how Gabriel got akumatized.

After all her support with dealing with Lila, he was way more inclined to believe her even without the evidence. But those things just made him more wary of his dad. And he wasn’t too stoked on spending more time than what he can get away with with the guy. Because his dad being Hawk Moth explains why he wants Lila (his strongest supporter - Chameleon and Oni-chan, anyone?) close and makes Adrien play nice with her. And anyone who enables Lila’s bitchiness is on his enemy list.

Anyway, he was out here to enjoy the good mood not think about evil bitches and evil dads. So he sat himself down and enjoyed the sights. It was more calming than you would think.

He heard cars blaring and even a dog barking. The slight breeze felt nice. The moon was pretty bright tonight. The stars too. There was a lone couple walking through the park. There was also another teen in black running on rooftops a few buildings away.

Wait.

What?

He blinked and looked again. Huh, there was another teen in black running on rooftops. And it was not a hallucination.

What the actual fuck?

He was instantly on his feet, baton already in hand as he raced across the roof to reach said stranger.

“Hey!”

But because he was the lucky owner of the unlucky miraculous, the moment he said that, the guy was about to jump off a building to presumably roll onto the next one like Chat was watching him do beforehand. But his call made him lose focus and Chat watched horrified as the guy slipped and started falling into the alley.

Oh fuck! Mari was going to fucking kill this dumbass kitty!

He hoped to everything that Mari thinks is holy that he makes it in time. Extending his baton, he used it as a huge Pogo stick to basically catapult himself towards the stranger and wrapped his arms around him as he braced himself for the full weight of hitting the gravel at this height and speed. But he wasn’t that that concerned. His suit protected him from the majority of the injuries that would’ve occurred if he wasn’t wearing it. It hurt but it isn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Remember earlier? He takes his victories as they come.

This was not the smartest of ideas, he’ll admit. Mari had the brains to be honest. But it wasn’t bad if he say so. And he does say so.

He rolled over and immediately looked over the stranger that was remarkably unharmed in this whole mess.

And oh.

Oh.

The stranger was taller than he was with a lithe and lean frame. He had raven black hair that complimented his tanned skin and gorgeous green eyes that pierced through him, making his heart do funny things.

He was not expecting him to look as hot as he did. He wore a simply black t-shirt and jeans but he looked like a fucking Adonis, what the fuck. Even the moon shone down on him, highlighting his handsome features even more.

He shook himself of those thoughts and focused on what was more important. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

He was rudely pushed away, but he didn’t take offense. He did cause the guy to fall after all.

“Do not touch me.” (What kind of accent is that?) “I’m fine. You are truly a moronic imbecile of the highest accord to yell like that. And what are you even supposed to be? Some kind of knock-off Catwoman?”

At that, Chat looked at Hot-And-Sexy weird. “Are you new here? I’m the superhero Chat Noir. I protect Paris with Ladybug.”

“You’re joking.”

“I know I come off as the goofy hero because I make purr-fect puns all the time but I’m not joking about this.”

He took out his phone to show the foreign (since he’s obviously not a Parisian) stranger the akuma attacks and Ladybug and Chat Noir being a dynamic duo, saving Paris and beating Hawk Moth. Ok, he showed the stranger a lot of stuff. Sue him. He gets to brag about his Princess. And himself too.

“I never heard about this before.” Hot-And-Sexy (he has got to come up with a better name) said afterward. “3 years this has been going on? Why didn’t you ask for help from the Justice League or other superheros?”

Chat shrugged. “We tried. But they said we’re obviously pulling a prank and making this all up. So we stopped asking for help.”

For some reason this made Hot-And-Sexy angry. “They ignored your plea for help and left you to fight for yourselves?”

“Pretty much, yea.”

“You and Ladybug are children.”

“Excuse me? Are you doubting our ability to protect our city?" He was not apologetic at the sharp edge his voice took. Forget looking hot. How dare he? The audacity really.

Hot-And-Sexy shook his head. “I’m not. I know some child superheroes who are adequate at their jobs and a few who are remarkable like Robin in Gotham. But the majority of them had adult mentors to guide them. From what you’ve shown me, you and Ladybug had no one. You were left alone to fend for yourself with essentially no help.”

He never thought of it that way. But hearing it like that made him think: Fuck Adults Who Chose Children to Fight Their War For Them and Fuck Hawk Moth For Putting Them In This Position In The First Place.

You know what. Just to clear all his bases - Fuck Everyone But The Dupain-Chengs.

Chat couldn’t help but shrug, not quite knowing what to say to that. “Life is a bitch, I’ve come to find out. But enough of that. Why were you running on rooftops anyway?”

“It calms me down.”

Relatable.

“Is...Is your tail moving?”

“Huh?” He looked behind him to see his tail was indeed moving lazily. “Yeah. I’m called Chat Noir for a reason.”

“May I touch them?” Chat was used to people (usually kids) pulling on his tail to see if it was real (It was). And it really hurts because they usually rough. Not that he blames them. Kids don’t know any better. Still, he usually says no when people ask.

But Hot-And-Sexy had such a sincere expression that he said yes. To his surprise and delight, Hot-And-Sexy was extremely gentle (Can this guy be anymore perfect?) and it felt nice to be petted like that. Curse his touch-starvation (again Fuck you Dad).

Hot-And-Sexy was apparently fascinated by his ears and tail.

“Are you a meta?” He noticed how Hot-And-Sexy’s voice turned softer and fonder (or was he imagining that?).

“Nah. I’m fully human. I just got powers to transform into this.” He looked down at his phone seeing that the time was nearing 2 am.

“Have you suffered any injuries from your stupid stunt?”

“Hmm?” Chat looked back at him before gesturing to his body. “Don’t worry. I may not look like it but I can take it.”

He can practically feel Hot-And-Sexy rolling his eyes. “What an utter dolt.”

But there wasn’t any heat behind it so he didn’t take it to heart.

“Thanks, babe.”

“That was an insult.”

“And I’m taking it like a compliment.”

Chat stood up and stretched his limbs. Hot-And-Sexy doing the same but dusting off his clothes instead.

“So, uh, need any help getting home?”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own way, thanks.”

“Ok. Have a nice night.” He was about to leave when he was caught off guard by Hot-And-Sexy staring at him for a good few seconds, making his limbs freeze in place at the heavy attention.

Before he said. “You should try contacting the Batfamily in Gotham about Hawk Moth. They’re used to dealing with weird things. I’m sure they won’t turn you or Ladybug away.”

Chat was a bit distracted by how intensely those green eyes focused on him, making his heart beat faster and his cheeks turn a vibrant red.

He was so screwed.

He used his baton to shoot himself up so he can run on rooftops, hurrying to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“Mari! I think I’m gay!”

“It’s 2 in the morning, Chaton. Go to sleep and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”

After a good night’s rest (and thank everything that was right in the world that today was a weekend), Adrien told Mari all about Hot-And-Sexy. And yes, he did call the stranger that out loud. His everything-that-actually-matters sister simply took it in stride after giggling a bit. They spent the majority of the day discussing emotions and everything that came with that bundle.

Before he finally came to a conclusion.

He is definitely gay (He liked girls but not like like them). And most definitely had a crush on Hot-And-Sexy with the pretty green eyes.

Good news: He is no longer having a sexuality crisis.

Bad news: He is going through an emotional crisis.

Like dealing with these feelings that is making his stomach flip flop over and over again? The only one he ever had to deal with was the one he had on Ladybug and that (he talked with Mari about it months before. She was amazing with these emotional matters) was more of a hero-worship crush than anything really romantic.

And his crush on Hot-And-Sexy was so much more.

So it’s been about 2 weeks since he encountered Hot-And-Sexy. And he still haven’t figured out what else to call him. But the nickname was growing on him.

(He also told Mari about asking the Batfam for help but she was a bit apprehensive after the disastrous attempts of convincing the Justice League. He shrugged, trusting her opinion and left it at that)

Anyway, Lila was being her usual bitchy self. Father was being non-existent like always. Mari was his only source of sanity at school. And Hawk Moth was being a bitch.

Because of course, the day before they have a huge test, he decides to akumatize someone (in this case, a businessman who was really unhappy with getting fired) and cut in on study time. And this akuma took a while to defeat. Guess he drew a lot of strength from his burning hatred of the failings of the corporate world.

And just yesterday, a teenager who was upset at being grounded got akumatized and terrorized the city for 3 hours before Ladybug could purify her. It did however confirmed her fears. Hawk Moth was getting stronger. It took longer to defeat his monsters. They needed to find him and ended this fast.

Adrien landed on Mari’s balcony and slipped in her room, crashing on her big comfy bed, de-transforming on the spot. Plagg sleepily floating and laying next to him on the pillow. He was so tired. And photo shoots and school drama were not helping things.

For the record, he was not at all expecting to see Hot-And-Sexy in a bookstore of all places.

He was so engrossed in looking through the latest Boku no Hero Academia manga (can’t wait until Season 5 comes out) that when someone touched his shoulder, he was not proud to admit he squeaked a bit.

He turned around and his eyes widened his surprise.

“Hot-And-Sexy!”

It was indeed the Adonis Adrien had a huge crush on. Today he was wearing a white t-shirt paired with a blue denim jacket and black ripped jeans. Wow. He really can make anything look hot.

No. Bad Adrien. Don’t let him know you actually have a crush on him.

And oh fuck. Hot-And-Sexy was staring at the blonde and Adrien tried not to let himself get flustered. He has a very intense stare. For all he knew, Hot-And-Sexy stares at everyone like that.

Calm the fuck down, heart. You too brain.

He raised a handsome eyebrow in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Adrien felt himself burn with embarrassment, his face turning bright scarlet. No wonder he was fit for the unlucky miraculous or was this just a side-effect? Note to self, ask Mari about this later.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t get your name last time. And I just started calling you that in my head. Cause you’re really hot and you have pretty eyes.”

Fuck mouth! Why won’t you stop talking! Please for the love of everything that makes Mari a BAMF stop. Stop digging further into the hole of embarrassment! Abort mission! Abort!

“When did we meet?”

At that, he blink a few times. Oh fuck. He was not Superhero Chat Noir. He was Civilian Adrien Agreste. Mari was definitely murdering his dumbass tonight. Lightning please strike him down right now. Where was an unlucky lightning strike when you need it?

After a few seconds of his horrified silence, Hot-And-Sexy chuckled (he had such a nice laugh). “You are extremely lucky I already figured out your alter ego beforehand, Chaton.”

Before Adrien could even unwrap that statement, he held out a hand and had a dangerously sexy smirk on his face. “My name is Damian Wayne. Would you care to get a cup of coffee with me?”

And Adrien nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak. He can deal with the superhero thing later when he can think straight (hah!) and is not distracted by Damian’s beautiful smile and alluring green eyes and perfect everything.

Guess what?

Ya Boi got game.

(At least, he likes to think he does)

After a successful coffee date (was it a date? Please let it be a date), they exchanged numbers (cue internal squealing) and met up a few times afterward to hang out.

Apparently, Dami was here on business to deal with something for Wayne Enterprises.

“Aren’t you 17?”

“Father believes in preparing us when we’re young.”

Dami was amazingly sweet. Arrogant and pretentious with a stick up his ass but sweet. He treats stray animals with such reverence that Adrien’s heart melt every time he sees it.

It was an added bonus when Damian scorned Lila with cruel words and disgusted looks when she tried to cut in Adrien and Dami’s date(?)/meetup(?)/spending-time-together event.

She cried and whined afterwards and Adrien has to endure his father’s lecture. But it was totally worth it.

Oh yeah. Mari was not pleased that he accidentally outed himself to a civilian. But nothing that a couple of sad kitty eyes can’t fix.

“You are so lucky you’re cute, kitty-cat.” Mari grumbled but she was smiling. “I just need to have a good talk with him on the importance of secrecy.”

That day Damian Wayne learned to fear a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was 2 weeks later when Adrien woke up to a package next to his futon in Mari’s room. When he opened it, he saw the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous inside.

There was a card beneath it. And in beautiful cursive script read:

I dearly hope you enjoy my courting gift, mon amour. Allow me the honor to formally ask you out on a date. I look forward to hearing favorably from you soon.

- Damian Wayne

He couldn’t believe it.

“Mari! Damian likes me back!”

“Chaton, I swear. It is 2 in the morning.”

#ml x dc #ml salt #ml salt fic #lila rossi salt #marinette deserves better #but so does adrien #adrien deserves better #adrien agreste #sexuality crisis #gaydrien #adrien agreste x damian wayne #adridami #oneshot #how the fuck did this crack idea span 3K words #apparently I'm down with this ship

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

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heliads · 3 years

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Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (Part Five)

When Kaz Brekker announces that they’ll be working with a certain Tidemaker to help with the latest heist, Jesper knows it’s not going to end well. He and Y/N L/N have a fierce rivalry, although feelings may change over a night.

previous / series masterlist

a/n: it’s finally over 😭thanks once again to @underc0vercryptid for being my muse for all of this

It’s hard for Jesper to convince himself to leave the alley, to let his hands leave Y/N and return to their places by his sides. Inej and Kaz will be looking for them, that much is true. But there’s still a sound like a sigh trapped and rattling in his lungs when he leaves, a regret that he can’t quite excuse away with knowledge of what Kaz’s vengeance would mean if he found a single Dreg disobeying one of his most enforced rules.

Y/N understands, that much is true. She’s become more involved with the Dregs as time goes on. She knows Kaz Brekker in the way that they all do- the Bastard of the Barrel isn’t one that you cross unless you wish to lose your tongue and your life. It still seems wrong to give this up, though, to let Dirtyhands keep walking all over him for the one thing that matters. In the end, they would have had to leave the alley anyways. This is just the first excuse that passes Jesper’s lips.

He manages to turn off his mind for a little while, convincing himself that it doesn’t feel harder and harder to leave, that he can be emotionless and cold. Jesper’s tone is clinical when he tells Kaz and Inej of the successful mission, his hands for once unshaking and firm when he hands over the list of names to Kaz. However, even his attempts at being fine and calm draw suspicion- Kaz hadn’t seen them rejoin the rest of the party when the guests relocated from the main hall, and he wanted to know why.

Jesper has spent enough time running with the canal rats for lies to spring easily to his tongue. There was a difficulty finding the safe, he says, they had to dodge some guards and they didn’t quite get there in time. It doesn’t really matter, though, does it? They got in, they got out, and they weren’t the reason the alarms were sounded. Kaz raises an eyebrow at this, but he doesn’t press it. Jesper might be well and truly hallucinating, but he swears he sees a tinge of unrest in Kaz’s eyes, like the boy is haunting himself over the fact that he may have made an error, one that could have gotten his gang caught like a too-clever fox in a trap.

Maybe this shift in Kaz’s usual ruthless demeanor is enough to unsettle him, or maybe it’s the gnawing knowledge that Jesper keeps walking away from the girl he might love that drives him to leave the Slat once more. It’s early morning now, dawn with its rosy-fingered hues, but a lack of sleep has hardly bothered Jesper before, and it certainly won’t now. He thinks as he walks, stretching his legs as he paces mindless circles around the city.

Jesper can’t shake the feeling that he’s been running for too long. He’s used to it, but for some reason, it feels different now. He doesn’t like this constant leaving, this weight on his shoulders like he’s holding true to a lie that will one day spiral out of control. Jesper is used to living life on the run, to being flamboyantly proud of everything that makes him, well, him. The skulking around back corners, stealing kisses only after he’s checked and double-checked that no one is watching? It feels like a noose is tightening around his neck.

In the end, Jesper finds himself climbing up a rickety fire escape and stretching his legs out over the edge of a roof, watching the golden dawn start to turn the waters surrounding Ketterdam bronze with light. It is not long before he is joined by someone else, someone with answering steps and a reassuring smile tossed his way. Maybe she could tell from how they’d left that he was still lost in thought. Regardless, Jesper is happy to not be alone.

Y/N sits next to him, carefully swinging her feet over the edge. Her heels kick up against the brick. “I like this view. I like being able to see the water. It feels like I’m more connected to it.” Jesper turns his head towards her, watching the way the early morning air toys with her eyelashes, her face. “Is it easy to be a Tidemaker here? I mean, you’re powerful enough that people don’t try to trap you with indentures. Does it ever get easy in Ketterdam?”

Y/N laughs quietly. “Not at all. I still remember when I first showed up and stepped off of the boats. My parents wanted to send me away from the disaster that was the Ravkan civil war. They guessed it would happen long before it did, and assumed Kerch would be safer. They sent me over first, saying that they’d follow soon after.” Jesper can hear the inflections in her voice, the way she casts her eyes towards the water with renewed vigor. He knows this means that they never showed up again.

She clears her throat, voice stubbornly loud as if ridding herself of doubts. “I was terrified when I first got here. Nothing made sense. In Ravka, Grisha were feared, yes, and there were always traders or mercenaries or even drüskelle out for blood, but we had a home there. If you had a home, people rarely came hunting for you. I had no such harbor here.”

Y/N looks out over the streets as if she’s never walked them before, as if she’s once more a stranger to the coal-choked airways always drenched with a spattering of rain and misfortune. “I had a friend. A girl who came with me. She was an Inferni, made the mistake of trying to summon up a small spark to keep her warm. I watched them take her right before my eyes, and I didn’t do anything at all. I vowed from that moment on that I would never be weak again, never hide in the shadows like I did on that night.”

Jesper’s heard bits and pieces of the story from here. He’d learned the most about her before he even liked her at all, actually, back when they still considered themselves to be rivals. Jesper had told himself that he was just collecting information on an enemy to best take her down the next time they crossed paths, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? Maybe that was a sign that even then, when Jesper had convinced himself that the only thing they could ever have was animosity, he still wanted something more. That was a gambler’s luck, after all- always reaching for a better deal, a shinier prospect. She was his best capture.

Y/N glances over at him like she can sense his thoughts. “That’s when you entered the picture, actually. I stopped being scared to hide my powers and started using them in bloodlust. I took up jobs, found this one really annoying sharpshooter who kept getting in my way.” Jesper presses a hand to his chest in mock indignation. “I think you can do better than just ‘really annoying’. Dashingly infuriating, maybe. Devastatingly attractive. A charming enemy who-”

Y/N cuts him off, laughing. “You’re awful. Utterly awful.” Jesper goes to protest, but she leans in, pressing a kiss to his lips that makes his heart swoop in his chest. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Jesper’s sudden silence. “Am I that good of a kisser? I don’t think I’ve seen you that awestruck in a while.” Jesper scoffs. “I can do better than that.”

He lets his hands find hers, lets the rising sun light the way his lips meet hers. They don’t leave the rooftop until the sun has fully ascended to its place in the sky, until the clatter of feet on cobblestones is the only reason for an exit. Not a gang, not its fearsome leader. Just the two of them, drowning out the whole world until there’s nothing left at all.

He is eventually found out, of course. All stories repeat themselves, all beginnings follow suit. When Kaz calls Jesper up to his office, he finds that he isn’t worried at all. Before, he might have felt his shoulders tense, hesitating at the door. When Jesper faces the oddly terrifying wooden paneling, however, all he can think about is the sun shining through Y/N’s eyes, the smile on her lips as his fingers laced around hers. If loving her is wrong, well, Jesper’s already been a criminal for quite some time. Why not add one more misdeed to the list?

Kaz waits for him in the office. He stands up, black gloved hands tapping on the familiar crow’s head cane. It’s all meant for a threatening display- Jesper’s seen this very posture used successfully on many a nervous trainwreck of a failed business partner or lackluster goon. However, Jesper’s still filled with the giddy rush of seeing his girl and he can’t quite force himself to care.

Kaz clears his throat, the metal hull of a ship scraping against jagged rocks. “Y/N L/N.” He doesn’t have to say anything else, just the name. Jesper nods. “Yes.” Kaz raises an eyebrow. “You’re not going to deny it?” Jesper shrugs. “We both know your information is good. Yes, I’m seeing her.” Kaz’s fingers still on the head of the cane. “You know how I feel about that. It’s a weakness.”

Jesper should take it as a possible sign of insanity that he’s considering the path before him at all. He knows what Kaz expects of him- an apology, maybe, a promise that he won’t stray from the rules again, or at least not so long as they interfere with Kaz’s master plan for the Dregs. He’ll see Y/N out, do his best not to cross paths with her again. He might return to the gambling halls once more just to stave off some unsightly emptiness inside of him, and then he’ll be as good as gold.

Jesper, however, does not intend to do any of this at all. What good are the odds if he doesn’t have his girl? He’s stepped inside the Crow Club over the past couple of days. The rattle of Makker’s Wheel doesn’t have that same fervor, the excitement doesn’t spread over him in the same delicious rush. Simply put, it isn’t worth it. It isn’t a gamble worth his time, and Jesper’s lost mightier fortunes over lesser odds.

So Jesper shakes his head. “Not her. Not like this.” Kaz tilts his head just slightly, eyes calculating, looking for loopholes to exploit. “So you’d willingly break the rules?” Jesper leans forward. “We’re Dregs, Kaz. It’s what we do.” Kaz returns his level gaze. “Not like this. Tell me, what is it that makes Y/N L/N worth this much to you? You were enemies before, were you not? Is it the power? The chance that she may be like you?”

Jesper lifts a shoulder. ��It’s not always about finding the best possible advantage, Kaz. We work well together. It was only a matter of time before it was more.” Kaz Brekker might understand. Dirtyhands does not. “Your goal was not to find some pretty girlfriend in the Barrel, Jesper, it was to complete the mission and move on. I knew from the second you held her bleeding body in your arms that this wouldn’t be worth my time or my energy.”

Jesper doesn’t realize he’s standing until he is. “Then say it. I’ve spent my time playing your games, Kaz, and Saints know I’ll keep on turning your tables, but not on this. We all break the wheel at some point. I’m willing to do it for her.” Kaz is silent for a time, a time that seems to stretch on into such an eternity that Jesper finds himself tapping his revolvers again, feeling that same itch for a fight. It’s well and good to go into a battle of the bullets and feel the adrenaline kick in, he could handle that. This, however? Waiting for Kaz to do something, anything? You can’t fight that, only wait for it to end. And Jesper’s never been particularly good at waiting.

At last, Kaz speaks. “Then stay with her.” Jesper almost thinks that he’s started hallucinating. “What?” Kaz inclines his head. “She’s good for you. You’ve been more focused.” Jesper stares for a second, then shakes his head, fighting back the impossible urge to break into manic laughter. “Honestly, if it takes you considering the potential business opportunities to approve of us, I’m not about to challenge that.”

Something almost like a smile appears on Kaz’s face. Jesper is most certainly going insane. “I’m not completely heartless, Jesper. You’re a useful sharpshooter.” Jesper’s eyes widen. “That’s practically a compliment. Do you need me for a heist later? I can’t think of anything else to cause this.” Kaz tilts his head in acknowledgement of this surreal situation, pausing for a second as if listening to a voice that no one else can hear.

Then he gestures towards the door, allowing Jesper to leave. As Jesper walks towards the door, though, Kaz says something else. “Inej just left the roof.” Jesper nods in understanding. “Look at you. Dishing out the compliments for your Wraith to hear.” Kaz’s brow furrows, and Jesper decides to leave the office now before Kaz decides to take back his approval of Jesper and Y/N and hit him with his cane or something else overtly Kaz-like.

Despite his best efforts, Jesper is still teeming with anxious energy after the meeting, so he goes on a quick stroll around the crooked alleyways of the Barrel to calm the restless ticking of his hands and legs. When he comes back to the Slat, however, he notices that his door is slightly ajar. Jesper enters his room slowly, relaxing at the sound of voices.

The window is open, showing the faint drizzle of the streets outside. Y/N sits on the floor next to Inej as both girls consider a makeshift target of a few rags at the far end of the room. Inej tosses a knife up and down in her hand, then flings it towards the target. She hits it in the center, to no one’s surprise. Y/N’s eyes follow the path of the blade, and then she extends her hand towards the window, letting drops of rain fly towards her palm. She curls her fingers around the water, shaping it into a perfect replica of the knife Inej had just thrown, then directs it towards the target to slosh around Inej’s blade, another direct hit to the center.

Inej makes a scoffing sound. “That doesn’t count. You got to control the knife instead of just throwing it.” Y/N shrugs absentmindedly. “You got to pick a knife, I had to make mine myself. I think it evens out.” Inej glances up towards Jesper, smiling slightly. Somehow, it comes to no surprise that she’d known he was there all along. “Jesper, come tell your girlfriend that she’s cheating at target practice.”

Jesper shrugs. “As long as you hit the target I don’t think you can cheat. Also, I thought I locked this door.” Y/N grins up at him. “That’s the unbiased support I love to hear. And your door was locked, we just wanted to go in so we did.” Jesper nods. “That clears up everything.” Y/N laughs. “Good to know.” Inej stands up, stretching, and goes to retrieve her knife. She goes to climb through the window once more then pauses, turning to face them.

“I’m glad Kaz let you two stay together. I certainly did my arguing for you.” Jesper frowns. “How long have you known?” Inej sighs exasperatedly. “Practically since the start. You two are terrible at being secretive, you know that?” She doesn’t give them time to protest, just slips out the window and disappears into the roofline before you could even blink.

Y/N walks over to Jesper, a half smile on her face. “I suppose she’s right. We haven’t exactly been the most discreet, have we?” Jesper shrugs. “Maybe not. But we don’t have to hide anymore. We don’t have to leave.” Y/N smiles at him now, a true smile. “I like the sound of that.” Jesper hums thoughtfully, leaning down to kiss her. “So do I.”

guns blazing, tides rising masterlist: @kaqua, @amortensie

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astriefer · 3 years

Note

If you want to, how about prompt 36 with thomastair?? 🤍

Prompt 36 - "Don't move. it'll be okay."

Thank you for this ask!! This is so terribly late but I hope it's enough for you. This is really bad because I had inspiration and then it died and then assignments and family and I'm running late. But... just in time for holiday! So have this piece please 🙏 Didn't check it too much so sorry for type errors and such thank you

TW throwing up and illness.

When the Merry Thieves had gotten the message Thomas wouldn't join them that day, they were suspicious.

"It's not Thomas's handwriting," Matthew said thoughtfully to James and Christopher.

Christopher fixed his spectacles on his nose and took a glance at the parchment. "But who wrote it if not Thomas?"

As always, the group of Thieves (lacking Thomas) was hanging around the Herondale manor. Cordelia and Lucie had gone to train together, and Effie was busy preparing titbits and coffee for them. They waited for Thomas to approach in all his giant glory, half-predicted him to come with Christopher, but he did not arrive. After half an hour, and just as Matthew complained, "Had Thomas gotten himself kidnapped in the course of the night?" a runner came at the front door. The message he carried was what they had been looking at for the past few minutes.

James shrugged. "Alastair, I assume," his golden eyes scanned the carefully written words. "They do live together."

"It claims him to be feeling unwell," Matthew said. "Do you think it's because he finally realized what a nuisance Alastair is?"

James gave him a look. "Matthew."

"It's in good spirits!" Matthew defended, raising his hands. When James still looked at him pointedly, he lowered his hands and murmured. "To some extent."

James sighed. As long as he didn't say it in front of Thomas, Cordelia, or Alastair himself, he concluded it wasn't the worst thing. They were civil with each other's presence, which was progress. He couldn't be mad at Matthew anyhow. He placed the paper down, regarded his friend with a shrug.

"What ho," Christopher said. "Your definitions for good spirits may cross the traditional ones."

"Well, it's not my fault the ordinary interpretations are substantially dull," Matthew retorted.

Christopher hummed and stopped paying attention, seemingly engrossed in a new idea of an invention that must have captured his mind. Matthew gave him a fond smile and then cut his gaze back to James. "So, are we going?"

"Where?" James asked as Matthew stood up. His parabatai straightened his double-breasted waistcoat, which had decorations of an exotic animal on it.

He must have looked dumbfounded because Matthew added kindly, "Oh, Jamie bach," Matthew clicked his tongue at him. "Can you truly believe Thomas is sick?"

"That's what written here," he tapped on the papyrus. Matthew clicked his tongue again. His eyes were shining dangerously. "I know that look. What ill thing your mind hallucinated this time?"

"Everything I think of is a masterpiece, mind you. And clearly," Matthew said, leaning forward in his seat, "He scribbled some poor excuse to spend time with Alastair. But he said he would come. And if he won't come to us, we will come to him. So we shall step up to their flat and demand our Thomas."

"It doesn't sound like Thomas to fake such a thing." James's eye deterred away to the clock on the wall. He had the idea if it was something else, not a possibility of Thomas favoring Alastair's company over theirs, it would die silently.

"It sounds a bit petty," Christopher noted. His hands tapped on the floor, fingers twisting as if he desired to be in Henry's lab and write down his findings.

"It's not," Matthew promised. "We needn't have a reason to see Thomas. Besides, don't you want to tell him about your latest experiment?"

Christopher's eyes lit up at that. He shoved his spectacles up his nose, nodding. "Yes, it would be good. I made some progress he should be filled in about."

"Great!" Matthew commented. "Let's go."

"Poor Kit," James teased as he got up. "You use science to tempt him?"

"I have no clue what you are talking about," Matthew graced him with a brilliant smile."I merely harness the power of science for my good deeds."

~~~~

As it turned out, unwell was an underestimate.

"What are you doing here?" Alastair asked when he opened the door of the flat. James was a bit stunned to see how disheveled and bedraggled he looked, a stark contrast to his usual display. His clothes were rumpled and crumpled and he looked awfully gassed.

The three soon cut free of their astonishment, and Christopher talked first. "Hullo, Alastair. We have come to see Thomas."

Alastair blinked but otherwise remained still. "I delivered you a message. He isn't feeling well."

"We had an essential piece of enlightenment to share with him," Matthew supplied. Alastair gave him an indifferent look.

"He isn't feeling well," Alastair repeated. James started to think it was a bad idea to come - Alastair clearly wasn't fancy to usher them inside. From inside the flat, a smell of soup traveled in the air.

Matthew's green eyes faced Alastair's unabashedly. "Why, let us see him, then. There's nothing our engaging presence can't aid. Tom will be feeling much better if he sees us."

"He needs to rest, not play games with his friends-"

A broad-shouldered figure came behind him, towering over him. " 'm fine."

Matthew wasn't the only one with a twisted interpretation of rudimentary words, apparently. James was fairly sure 'fine' shouldn't mean being so pale or to have big bruises-like black shadows under your eyes; nor did he think someone feeling fine should be looking so lightheaded and sick. Thomas's moss of light brown hair was mussed and tousled. He looked, frankly, even worse than Alastair - sweaty and tapped up.

"Thomas?" James asked.

The tall man shifted his gaze to James rather slowly. Instantaneously he realized Thomas was leaning his hand against the wall for support, and not for the sake of doing it. He was unsteady. "Greetings. I was going to get ready and come by your house, James."

"You should be in bed," Alastair protested.

Thoams's stance was defensive. "I am plenty fine, thank you, I don't need any rest in bed."

A muted sigh escaped Alastair's lips. He glanced at the three of them. "May you put some reason into him? You could at least do that after turning up here."

"I am standing right here," Thomas pointed out. He sounded almost too drained-out to resist. Alastair seemed unimpressed.

Christopher hesitated. "You do look a bit green around the gills, Tom."

"You look liverish, and not in a neat way," Matthew added.

"You have no need to dot on me," Thomas insisted. Annoyance took over his features. "I have rested enough. I shall-"

He cut off abruptly, gagging. He turned over back into the apartment, a hand over his stomach, and ran inside. With a last skeptical glance thrown toward them, Alastair charged after Thomas.

James stood in front of the front door, bewildered, till Matthew passed him and flung the door open for them to enter.

Christopher followed with no protest. "What?" Matthew asked when James shot him a dark look. "They left the door open, thus I regard it as an invitation to permit ourselves inside."

With that philosophy in mind, they passed the corridor into the parlor. Accompany to the horrible sound of vomiting - James guessed it was Thomas's part - they could catch a low, soothing murmur of calming words. Alastair.

"You were wrong," Christopher said as he turned to Matthew. His voice was not self-righteous whatsoever, just matter-of-factly and troubled. "He is feeling ill."

Matthew seemed abashed, just slightly. "I wouldn't have been aghast if told he wanted to spend time with his lover."

They settled themselves nervously on the Aegean-blue sofa. As a few minutes passed - slow, confused, and worried - the sound of retching had finally petered out. They heard the noise of the water goes down the toilet.

"You think we should check whether they are fine?" Christopher asked.

"He honked up all he ate for breakfast. He must need to collect himself, and we should let him - unless you think he can somehow drown himself in the seek of the toilet." Matthew pondered over the last part amusingly.

Christopher seemed satisfied with the answer, and he cut his gaze back to the corridor through Thomas and Alastair had disappeared.

When he finally came back into the parlor, he limply made his way to the sofa, bearly holding himself straight. He hung his head low, sweat pooled on his neck and forehead and glimmered on his cheeks. His face reminded James of a red balloon, shiny and oddly red.

"Are you all right?" James inquired when he finally sat. Thomas made no sudden movements as he decisively faced them. It was clear as day Thomas, by all means, was not all right.

"Yes," he said. Matthew, James, and Christopher exchanged concerned looks between them. Alastair had not returned yet. "I must have eaten something spoiled."

"Are you sure?" Matthew pressed. "You still look dreadful."

"Surely I couldn't guess it," Thomas quipped.

"We can entertain you, though," Matthew pondered, giving him a smirk. "You stay in bed, and we will keep you a worthy company."

Thomas moved in his place, uncomfortable. Christopher, on the other way, smiled at Thomas. "Mam and Aunt Charlotte said I could use the lab tomorrow morning if there will be someone with me. The enclave has an important meeting early that day, and even Henry attends."

Thomas seemed grateful for the change of topic. Mattew said, "We might go and eavesdrop in case something interesting will come up."

"I will be there first thing tomorrow," Thomas avowed, although none of them asked him to. Thomas succumbs to a brutal coughing fit, and It was at that moment Alastair approached from the corridor.

"You need to rest," Alastair chided.

Thomas commnented hastily. "You are over-worried. I am fine."

"You're behaving frivolously," he proclaimed. "You ought to relax and rest, not to run around with your friend as if you are not sick."

"I'm just tired."

Alastair gave him an incredulous stare. "Really, you," he scolded wearily. "Utter madness, what that mouth of you blurts out." The dark-haired man turned over to the kitchen. Then he turned again. Alastair's dark gaze moved to the rest of the Merry Thieves. "You could at least bring a soup or medicine," he countered.

Matthew lifted his arms mockingly as if to surrender. "I am sorry, O great lord, that I didn't know how sick Thomas was. From your message, he could also have a slight headache."

Alastair scoffed and went into the kitchen. Mattew shot a look at Christopher and James, who nodded. he returned his eyes on Thomas.

"Hark, I, for once, agree with Carstairs. An advent I thought I would ever do. But I do think you should stay in bed."

"Shan't." Thomas regarded the idea of being treated by others with disdain. he rubbed his eyes, mumbling under his breath. "I am fine," he insisted. "I can hang out with you."

Alastair came back into the room, placing himself next to the sofa Thomas was resting on. He put down a large bowl. Haze of steams rose from the Broth. "Eat this. Then you go to bed."

Thomas's glare snitched up at him. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "I am fine," he repeated. "I am already feeling better."

The look Alastair gave him made it clear he wasn't buying it. "Bed." Alastair crossed his hands on the chance and his gaze determined. "I am not supposed to teach you how to take care of yourself. So eat the soup and go to bed.

Thomas's grumpy mood seemed to worsen. He would've thrown hands if he hadn't felt so indisposed. "I can take care of myself."

"So don't be so stubborn and do as I say."

"It doesn't sound like taking care of oneself," Thomas grumbled. He coughed again into his forearm."And you're not my mother."

"A very fine observation. No, I'm your partner," he gave Thomas a meaningful look. "So either you eat the soup or expect to get it shoved down your throat."

"That you very better not do."

Christopher looked at Thomas with concern. "You do not look good, Tom. You should rest."

Thomas sighed inconspicuously. It was tenuous confidence he held against them. "You too, kit?"

"As he should," Alastair sneered. He was losing patience. "Stop playing around, and drink your bloody soup."

Thomas grunted, his back straightening. He seemed dizzy and ready to tell Alastair off once again, before he gaped loudly. He must have felt queasy for he scrambled to his feet, fighting his nausea to make it to the bathroom. He almost knocked into a wall.

James glanced at Alastair, who had been mumbling grumpily under his breath, for a moment just watching his swaying partner with distaste. His dark hair flew as he followed him, for the second time since James and the other Marry Thieves arrived, to the bathroom. They followed their ailing friend and the scaling man dashing after him, then looked at each other.

Christopher looked baffled, "Why would Tom resist so much to rest in bed?"

Matthew shrugged, furrowing his brows. "I can't fathom a reason for him to be that way," He cringed as the sounds of retching reverberated from the other room."He's supposed to be the reasonable one between us lot."

"Poor Tom," James said. "Maybe because he is so terribly ill he can't get hold of reality."

In the meantime, James investigated the furnishing of the drawing-room, which was unadorned. He drifted over to a colossal bookcase at the corner of the room, full of books in English, Persian, and Spanish (and some other languages he could not tell). He traced the spines of the books and glanced at his friends. Matthew was animatedly talking with Christopher, who tried to listen, even though it was clear to James that it was only half-hearted. He mused over browsing briefly at a shabby, worn copy of Hamlet when the noises from the other room finally stopped.

After a few minutes with no noises at all coming from the corridor, James stood up. "I will check on them," he told his friend, "Maybe Thomas passed out, or he is in distress."

Matthew and Christopher were up on their feet in the bare minimum of time. "We shall come as well."

"We won't fit there, all of us," James mentioned. Thomas would've felt better if they all would come and help take care of him, he was sure, but facts were facts. "Just let me see if he needs anything from us."

The other thrives reluctantly sat back on the sofa. In quiet, stealthy steps, he headed into the candle-lit corridor. He moved past some doors - their bedrooms, he assumed, or a library, perhaps. He stopped when he reached an open door, meaning to knock first to announce his presence, but it flew his mind when he poked his hand into the bathroom. He absentmindedly noted the porcelain clawfoot tub, the decorated primrose tiles, and the wallpaper - intricate floral trace and lines in moderate colors, which he pondered over who of the two men chose. There was also a high-level cistern toilet, Thomas leaning on its ream seat. A washbasin stood nearby, and Alastair was taking a flannel and dipping it in water before he handed it to Thomas. The unpleasant smell of vomit still stung the air.

Thomas's laid with his half-lidded eyes cracked a bit more open, still regaining his breath, and took the flannel. He managed to wash his face as Alastair took care to clean any mess created. Then he knelt in front of Thomas. Thomas pulled Alastair close weakly, buried his face in Alastair's chest. James could hear he was breathing deep and long, trying to control his upset stomach. He moved very little, very carefully, trying to shield his eyes from the light that shone in the room.

"Tom," Alastair said, surprisingly gently, unlike before. Suddenly James felt he was invading their privacy. "Hold on and cease for once in your life. You need to rest."

Thomas did not move nor talked, and James had the idea he fought back another gagging.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair tried again after Thomas seemed to curb the urge to regurgitate. "Why won't you rest?"

His friend talked tentatively and out of breath, his voice dry and hoarse and quivering. "I don't want everyone to chip around me like I'm some sickly fledgling. If my parents knew, they might even make a silent brother come. Being like this - reminds me of times I was sickly and small and weak. But I am a shadow hunter. I am an adult. I am sick of people thinking I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

James studied Alastair's face. To his grand surprise, he saw his face softens. Tenderly, he pressed their forehead together. "I am more than confidant you can take care of yourself, Thomas. I just try to assist and make you more comfortable, but we go nowhere if you fight me on every single decision. Drinking soup and resting in bed is something all people do. It helps you to get better."

Thomas's eyes were unfocused. "Sorry."

James wasn't certain to what of it all Thomas was sorry for, but Alastair seemed to accept it. He sighed breathly, backing away from Thomas. "It's fine. Just let yourself rest, shall you? I still have a desire to -" he cut off when his eyes captured James, who leaned on the doorframe. "James."

James bolted straight and made sure his countenance revealed nothing as if he did not hear the conversation between the couple. "We will take out leave, see as you go and rest, Tom. We will come to check on you tomorrow."

Someone came behind him, and he found Christopher and Matthew looking into the bathroom. "We will tell Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon you are sick," Matthew intervened. "They can bring you some food and take care of you. Lucie will be glad to tell of the last mischiefs of The Beautiful Cordelia. Speaking of which, Lucie will tell her parents, and they will rush to make Brother Zachariah come to visit them-"

"We can also keep quiet," James offered. Thomas's words echoed in his head. He looked at Alastair. "I suppose Alastair can be enough of caretaker. But do tell us if you need anything. Alright, Tom?"

Alastair gave him an odd look, almost appreciation - but not precisely - on Thomas's behalf. The latter had only nodded his thanks and seemed relieved by James's offer.

"Recover quickly," Christopher said, his spectacles reflecting the light. Behind of them was a pair of caring eyes."There is just so much we Thieves can do without our heart."

~~~~

The Merry Thieves bid their goodbye and Alastair went to accompany them out, while Thomas made his way to their bedroom.

They had two bedrooms, one for each of them, despite they spent the nights together. He chose to go to Alastair's room, where his smell was strong and comforting. His steps were fatigue, his mind racing and hammering. The sunlight felt like a blow to his face, making his stomach perilously twist and turn. He wasn't sure he had left any contents to honk up. He was iffy and aching, couldn't find the power to shut the curtains close. Alastair's bed - wide enough for the both of them - was too compelling to resist. He grunted loudly, resting his head on the soft pillows. He felt cold. So cold.

What fought the place of the ill-feeling that settled in every bone of his body was his great dismay from being ill in the first place. Every time he got cold, his parents would worry themselves out as if he still was the sickly child from his childhood days. His friends will all dot on him, Alastair would lay him out for days, everyone will tell him he must rest to heal. And he despised it. He despised it with all his might. Like a rope tightening around his neck, like an invisible cage surrounding him. A cage made of love and care was still a cage, in his mind. Thomas did not like to be incarcerated. This creeping feeling of losing your independence frightened him, reminded him of times he was bedridden, out of necessity for his frequent ill-health.

Thomas didn't notice his eyes were shut until he tilted his head toward a noise - Alastair coming into the room. Thomas heard the door creak quietly, heralding Alastair's presence, and again as he closed it quietly. He felt rather than saw the quilt placed over him, hugging his body, giving a little warmth to the cool world he was in. Not warm enough, however.

"You're lucky you're my favorite," The well-known voice of Alastair mumbled.

They've butted heads around this the whole morning. Thomas refused to stick to bid despite Alastair's stubborn protests. Now, he felt his body turn to halves and his head throbbed as if the Angels gathered and made a party there. He hated Alastair to see him this weak, yet he hated it more to see the pain in his eyes because of his refusals. Thomas stirred in his place, every movement of his head making a new wave of headache hit him. "Stay." He reached his hand and tugged weakly at the fabric of the sleeveshirt of, not truly commending as asking.

"I will. Wait a moment." Thomas's grip went loose and with that, the half-Persian man disappeared again. He shifted, despite his throbbing head, so he could leave some place for Alastair to lay next to him. He moved slowly and painfully, fighting on every inch he could force himself to move. He hearkened Alastair marching back into their bedroom.

He tried to leave some space for Alastair. "Don't move," Alastair's tender voice cut through the void. "It'll be okay." Then a wet cloth softly landing against his forehead.

Cold.

He shivered. He tried to whisper "cold" but he felt no energy left in his body to protest. His eyes were heavy, his tongue even more so. "This is chiefly for your own good," Alastair comforted apologetically. "You are burning." He climbed to bed from the other side of the bed, slipping under the beddings and placing himself close to Thomas. It slipped from Thomas's mind beds had two sides.

Thomas's jumble of thoughts wandered freely anywhere and nowhere - he couldn't put enough effort into imagining, it just made the constant thumping in his head worse. A warm hand was tentatively wrapped around his chest. Alastair put effort into hugging him lightly as possible, offering the warmth Thomas was seeking. He tucked himself a bit closer to Thomas, pressed a soft kiss to his head, then sunk into the bed. The heat Alastair radiated was drugging, and the arm which rested on his chest felt more comforting than any other thing the world could offer. He tried to breathe but the feeling of bile rising in his throat made him stop.

Alastair must have noticed because he backed away from him. "I put a bucket down your side, in case you have any food to get rid of," he acknowledged. His presence was calming and needed. Thomas wanted to apologize for being so stubborn, to tell him he appreciated him and what he did for him. When he tried, he could not force himself to speak up, his vocal cords exhausted, and he wanted nothing but to let his mind slip into nothingness. He could not. Thomas felt drowsy, the strings of sleep dragging him into a feverish slumber.

Alastair removed his arm and his weight abruptly shifted, and the cloth had been taken away from Thomas's forehead. He startled, fighting to open his eyes, and then it was back, cold and piercing, and Alastair returned his hand to hug him. He felt a soft graze against his cheek - Alastair's lips - that ignited fire where it touched, just like his arm, making it a little less freezing. They kept resting in an awful silence for a few more minutes. Thomas had no problem with silence - he even liked it. Yet, knowing Alastair was watching him, concerned, putting everything aside to take care of him, was unbearable for him. He was supposed to see his mother and sibling today. He was excited to see them. Thomas desperately wanted the stillness to evanesce.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

Thomas couldn't quite realize how Alastair knew, but he hummed lowly in agreement. The weight beside him lifted, missed instantly before it came back with a small thump.

Alastair began to read. He desired to look at this chiseled face. When he tried to open his eyes, he found he couldn't. A blazing headache stroke him the moment he cracked them the tiniest bit. "Sorry for ruining today," Thomas sputtered. He didn't think he could force any other words to come up his throat.

"I'm here with you, my day can't be ruined. Even if you have a fever and acts like a stubborn fool." Alastair continued to read, Thomas felt himself being carried away to Lady Sleep, a cruel mistress, sometimes, and also a gentle one, if you approach her the right way. He felt himself falling into her arms, the voice of Alastair guiding him to a safe place in the realm of dreams.

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jaekaicx · 3 years

Text

so ive had this idea for an amphibia fangame for a lil while now-

(LONG post)

its based around the idea that sometime after anne got sent back to earth, she decides to sneak out one night to visit sasha and marcys bedrooms and poke through their stuff. this causes a bunch of memories to come back to anne through flashbacks while she tries to process everything thats happened and her feelings abt their friendship.

i was thinking itd be mostly a visual novel type thing. maybe with a few small choices, but the story would be mostly linear. thered be around 3 main story beats: a prologue bit w/ anne sneaking out of her house, marcys bedroom, and sashas bedroom. also one of the main mechanics would be looking at one of their bedrooms and clicking on random objects of importance and triggering a flashback sequence.

it came from the idea that anne will probably try to just shove all her emotions down and try to ignore her feelings abt true colors and everything that went down then. especially with what we saw in the sneak peek, anne will probably try to hide her emotions and bottle them up, which is obviously not healthy. so eventually shes gonna have to work through her emptional baggage and try to process everything.

i havent thought through EVERYTHING just yet, just some more major plot points and maybe one or two ideas for flashbacks. nothing too solid yet. but heres a bit more detailed runthrough of the plot

summary - prologue

so it would start off with anne at home. she and her mom are talking outside annes room. her moms concerned abt how annes been handling everything that happened in amphibia but anne keeps brushing everything off. her mom tries to get her to open up, but she keeps dismissing her and eventually shuts herself in her room. after taking a bit to cool off and think anne decides that shes gonna take the night to just ride off her emotions and stop repressing them for once. she also makes an impulsive decision to sneak out and check out marcy and sashas rooms.

anne goes to gather her stuff in her room, and just as shes about to climb out the window, sprig walks in to check on her. hes still rly concerned abt his big sis but he knows he cant stop her. he tries to go with anne, but she tells him she needs to do this on her own. so, sprig lets her go and tries to cover for her while shes gone.

so at this point i’ll probably give the player the choice of whose house to visit first. it doesnt rly impact the story or whatever, but i guess it might have a small emotional impact depending on whose house u choose to go to first??

(quick note: after this bit, there arent too many specific details for the plot and stuff like that. its largely just an overall idea of how the plot is gonna go. and even then, there isnt much to it. i didnt think that far ahead yet, which is why there isnt as much refinement yet. so far i just have general ideas for how annes gonna get to the bedrooms, with a couple of vague flashback ideas. just keep that in mind; this whole thing is still being thought over and planned as im typing this out)

summary - sasha

with sasha, annes still rly conflicted abt how she feels abt her. of course shes still rly hurt by being backstabbed by her twice and swordfighting her as many times. but as much as she hates sasha she cant bring herself to fully give up on sash. she hates her guts but deep down shes still willing to give sash another chance.

there may or may not be a small sequence where anne has to sneak into sashas house, but eventually she works her way into sashas room. im not entirely sure abt the details of sashas house n her family yet. im probably gonna wait for info from s3 until i solidify anything, but for now i do know that sashas family has a big house n theyre probably rich.

so anne goes into sashas room and its been left pretty much untouched ever since annes birthday, save for the few times someone came in to dust things off. again, dont rly have all the details for sashas room, but it kind of has a vibe of controlled chaos, with organized clutter and a bit of a touch of a rebellious teen girl. one detail i do want to have is a calendar opened up to the month the trio disappeared, with annes birthday circled and highlighted so much that its impossible to miss.

the calendar itself might include a flashback. im thinking of also having a varsity jacket and some old stuffed animal be different “artifacts” that trigger their own memories. there’ll be a bunch more, but those are the only ideas i have so far fjsbndnd

summary - marcy

ok so i want to be rly mean about marcys segment: this is going off the theory that marcys parents moved away while the trio was in amphibia.

anne doesnt know this yet tho, so shes in for quite a surprise when she turns onto marcys street to find a realtor sign on the front lawn. the clues are all there: an empty driveway, sign on the lawn, an overall empty vibe coming from the house. but it doesnt completely register at first. its not til anne actually comes up close does she notice the sign.

anne tries to deny it, and decides to prove to herself that “no marcys parents wouldnt do this. theyre not that cruel. im just gonna check marcys room myself.” the front doors locked, so she just goes over to marcys window and climbs in.

but its completely empty.

ok not totally empty, but a lot of marcys furniture and stuff is gone, except for a few stray toys and other “junk.” the home guys (idk what theyre called????) are still kind of in the process of cleaning everything out, so theres still some stuff left here and there around the house. but its still way too empty. and its yet another gut punch for anne.

anne searches the rest of the house a bit more, hoping that shes just hallucinating. but no, marcys parents are really gone. she tried to deny it before, but now she has more of an idea of how shitty the wu parents are. so anne decides to just mope around in marcys old room, checking out the stuff their parents left behind.

maybe she finds an old blanket marcy liked when he was rly young. or an old rubiks cube from marcys vast collection. a cnc figurine, some cards, a pride flag, and old diary? a couple of other old toys, an old report card or two, or maybe even some stray clothes. whatever anne finds, its all thats left of marcy, at least in LA.

it really doesnt leave anne in that much of a better emotional position. she already felt conflicted enough about what happened in true colors and what she found out abt marcy. but seeing even a small glimpse of what marcy was dealing with, it just makes her more confused. marcy was such a sweet kid! theres no way they couldve done anything wrong. yet here anne was, betrayed by both of her childhood friends.

only now is anne really taking the time to process the fact that marcy essentially kidnapped her and sasha with the calamity box. he didnt mean to do it, and theres no way they couldve known the box would actually work, but it doesnt completely excuse marcy. his actions still hurt anne and sash, and while they meant the best of intentions, it didnt rly come through that way.

and now marcy was dead. stabbed in the back by the newt king.

and now annes curled up in an empty bedroom, wrapped up in one of marcys old blankets, trying to wrap her head around her feelings about marcy while reminiscing in the past.

summary - extras/epilogue??

i kind of like the idea that anne ends up drifting off in which ever bedroom ended up being the second one she visited. she slowly comes back to consciousness, with her surroundings feeling somewhat familiar, only to wake up in horror bc “OH SHIT I FORGOT TO GO BACK HOME” im not completely sold on the idea tho bc it feels a bit abrupt and like too much of a tone shift?? idk it doesnt feel exactly right

but anyways, im also playing around with the idea of a small epilogue scene with the calamity trio hanging out in annes room, a good amount of time after amphibia ended. dont know what theyre doing in there, but theyre just chilling and feeling a bit nostalgic i guess.

but uh yeah thats pretty much what ive got for the overall idea. it doesnt feel too out of reach, but somethjng like this would definitely be ambitious. i could mayyyybe handle writing out the vn and drawing the character sprites, but i have no idea how to code a vn or draw detailed backgrounds, both of which would be pretty important to this fangame fjsndj. so i might consider having help with this.

THIS ISNT ANY SORT OF PROMISE OR WHATEVER. id rly love to follow through and make this fangame a thing, but im not making any guarantees. i have no idea if i’ll actually follow through, but i would definitely love to.

who knows. maybe in like a couple years this might actually become a thing. but for now i have no idea

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ah-ga-seven · 4 years

Text

Till’ The End of Summer - Chapter 8

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 4.8K

Genre: Angst.

Idol Cameos: BTS Namjoon, MAMAMOO Hwasa (Hye-Jin)

Warnings: Mentions of a broken family, abusive parents, conflict and death.

He studied her with a neutral facial expression. He tried his best not to give away any emotion with his eyes as he averted his attention to his uncle.

“You told her I was here?” Yeonjun asks calmly.

Namjoon looked at his nephew apologetically and sighed. “Jun, I’m sorry but I had no choice. I promised her I’d reach out if you ever contacted me.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, scoffing as he grabbed his keys out of his pocket as a sign that he was about to leave.

“It was a pleasure, but I have to go, thank you for your hospitality Hye-Jin noona,” he added as he kissed her cheek as a goodbye, but before he could make it out of the kitchen, his name was called once again.

“Yeonjun wait.” His mom cooed

Yeonjun turned around on his heels in annoyance, his calm and collected composure faltering a little as fire spewed from his pupils.

“What.”

“You don’t return my calls. Or respond to my text messages.” His mothers’ tone changed to a pleading one. She desperately needed him to listen to her, and Yeonjun was pretty sure he had never seen this type of emotion from her before, not towards him at least.

“Then you should’ve taken the hint,” he bites back arrogantly. “Now that I moved out of the house you suddenly want to pretend like you’re a mother? I’ll pass. What fancy dinner do you need me to attend now? Do I need to act like the perfect son again? Complete the image of a picture-perfect family for your stockholders?”

His mother was taken aback by his outburst. Yeonjun was never one to pick a fight, especially with her. She had to admit that she enjoyed the fact that he was sticking up for himself, but if the circumstances were different, she would have probably scolded him for acting up.

Yeonjun was getting more and more agitated as all of his bottled up emotions started to unravel. He knew he was being incredibly disrespectful and out of line, but he didn’t care.

He’d soon go back to never seeing her again, so what was the point in holding back.

“Yeonjun…” Namjoon’s tone altered to a much sterner one. “Hear her out.”

Yeonjun dramatically pulled out a chair and plopped himself down on it. He crossed his legs, resting his arm on the dinner table. “Let’s hear it then. What so god damn important for you to drive 6 hours in the dead of night to look me in the eye for?”

His mother sighed, fluttering her eyes shut in defeat as she shifted in her seat. “Your father is sick Yeonjun.”

It didn’t quite click to him what she meant by that, so he just deadpanned her in the eye, waiting for her to explain.

“Things aren’t looking good for him,” she explains. There wasn’t even a hint of sadness in her words.

Yeonjun knew that the only thing him and his mother had in common was the hate they shared for that man. Even though they both couldn’t stand him, she always took his side. She had to. The consequences were too high for her not to comply with her husbands’ wishes, but it’s not like she would tell Yeonjun that.

Deep down Yeonjun knew what this meant already. His dad had a history with heart disease, but somehow, he felt like his dad was something more of an invincible parasite. Somehow the worst types of people tend to live the longest. But if this means what he thinks this means, then that philosophy would quickly be invalidated.

“His condition is deteriorating fast Jun-ah.” Namjoon chimed in carefully, studying his nephew's body language.

Yeonjun was looking at his balled fists. He didn’t know how to feel towards this new information. His dad was dead to him a long time ago, but this hit differently.

He felt weird about it. No sadness, no guilt, he oddly felt like laughing at the irony of it all, but he was too dazed to react. He guessed that somewhere deep, deep, VERY deep down inside of him he wished for a better relationship with his father, so getting this type of confirmation that it would probably never happen was depressing to say the least.

He licked his pouty lips before deciding to make eye contact with his mom again.

She wasn’t sad either. She just looked back at him stoically, waiting for him to speak up.

“How long does he have left?”

“He’s been holding on longer than expected, so any day now I guess.”

Yeonjun didn’t expect such a straight forward response, and he certainly didn’t expect this short of a time frame.

His mother tried to study his emotions but then it clicked once more. She doesn’t know the boy that was sitting in front of her. She could pretend to know what he was feeling but she couldn’t. His frozen yet distressed state was heartbreaking to see as his pupils were darting back and forth. His mother knew that she was part of the problem on why he can’t deal with his emotions, and the realisation made her stomach turn in regret as she kept looking at him.

It’s not like she didn’t love Yeonjun, it’s more so that she didn’t know how to.

“He wants to see you,” she says breaking the silence.

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t tell me.”

Yeonjun stayed frozen in his seat. The awkward silence made the atmosphere even tenser than it already was. His mother, however, seemed to be just as unfazed. She gave him time to process and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave either.

“Yeonjun…you literally just found out your dad is dying, you must be feeling something right now,” Namjoon says sitting down next to him. He patted his back in comfort, expecting him to either burst into tears, throw a tantrum, scream at them or all of the above. But he stayed calm, collected, icy, just like his mother.

“It’s not like he was up for father of the year,” Yeonjun mumbles, shaking Namjoon’s affectionate arm off of him. He didn’t want to be comforted; he didn’t want to hear any of this. Yeonjun didn’t need yet another thing to go wrong in his life right now.

What he did need was you. If anyone could make him feel something it was you, and only you.

He couldn’t even process last nights’ events and now he had to deal with a literal death in the family? Did the universe hate him or something?

He sighed throwing his head back as he rubbed his temples in agony.

“I know that this must come as a shock, and the issues with your girlfriend only fuel that fire, but I want you to know that our door is always open for you, you know that, right?” Hye-Jin says softly, sitting down next to Yeonjun on the opposite side of her husband.

Girlfriend huh? Damn, that stings.

“You have a girlfriend?” The tone of his mothers’ voice rose in surprise.

“Had,” Yeonjun says crossing his arms as he furrowed his eyebrows.

She really didn’t know him at all. She wanted to though, but she wasn’t sure how far she could go without scaring him off completely.

“How about we take a walk together?”

It was 9 AM and you were wide awake. You think you got a full 2 hours of sleep, but you weren’t sure since you were too busy tossing and turning.

Mia insisted on sleeping over, and you knew she would never take no for an answer, so you decided to just let her have her way.

Even though you wanted to be alone, you were also glad that you weren’t.

The talk you had last night with Mia made you feel much lighter.

Mia knew everything by now. She knew about how serious you and Yeonjun were about making things work, and how much you’ve come to care about him in such a short time.

Mia was uncharacteristically quiet throughout your whole conversation last night, but you didn’t think much of it, since this must all come as a shock and she probably needed some time to process.

You grabbed your phone to see a million messages from Soobin asking if you were okay and if Mia was with you.

You felt bad for ignoring him, knowing that he’d probably be worried sick about you two, so you texted him to come over.

It didn’t take long for him to get to your apartment, less than twenty minutes to be exact.

Mia was still sound asleep as your doorbell rang. You got out of the bed to open the door for Soobin, and were surprised to see Taehyun with him.

“Hey…” you say softly.

Soobin didn’t say anything. He just wrapped you into a tight hug and buried his face in your hair. Somehow you thought he was angry with you, but this wasn’t something an angry Soobin would do.

You melted into his embrace and suddenly you feel just how tired you really were, both mentally and physically. There were a lot of things left unspoken, and none of you knew where to start picking up the pieces.

He let go of you slowly and patted your hair. “It’ll be ok,” he assured.

You simply nod at his comment as Taehyun greets you with a hug as well. Soobin made his way into your room to wake Mia up from her immensely deep sleep while Taehyun and yourself sit down on the couch in your living room.

“Yeonjun hyung didn’t come home last night.” Taehyun says worriedly. “We’ve been trying to call and text him but his phone is off.”

Your head snaps up into Taehyuns direction and you see deep bags under his eyes that matched yours. “We’ve been up looking for him.”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. “Where could he have gone?”

“We don’t know. We contacted all of his friends but no one has seen him.”

“I…I hope he’s ok,” you say thinking out loud.

“Mia, baby…wake up.” Soobin nudged her softly, he laced his fingers with his as he sat on the side of the bed.

Her lashes fluttered open slowly, she thought she was hallucinating for a second but when she felt his hand caress her cheek she sighed, slowly coming to her senses.

“Hi..”

“Never ignore me like that again.” Soobin says sternly.

He didn’t come to pick a fight, but she needed to know that the way she walked out in the middle of the night to look for you with no form of transport all while refusing to answer his calls was not done.

Not only did he have to worry about Mia, but about you and Yeonjun as well. “I understand that you felt like y/n needed you, but I needed you too. We could have at least gone together but you didn’t even give me a chance, you just stormed out.”

Mia bit her lip. She knew she was wrong, but it was more a spur of the moment type of decision.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just felt like the guys were ganging up in y/n,” she explained softly, holding on to his arm as he kept caressing her face sweetly.

She felt bad for ignoring him, seeing how worn out he looks right now she figured that they didn’t have any luck in finding Yeonjun.

She sat up, giving him a kiss on his cheek as she leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry,” she said nuzzling her face in his neck.

He sighed. “It’s ok, let’s just….find a way to fix this mess.”

Uncomfortable was an understatement for the silence between Yeonjun and his mother.

He decided to accept the offer of taking a walk around the block together. The clicking of his mother’s heels and the chirping of the birds in the trees was the only form of auditory stimuli to them being together, so she decided to change the previous topic.

“Do you want coffee? There’s a small coffee shop across the street.”

Yeonjun just nodded, awkwardly putting his hands in his pocket. They had to cross the street together but there was no zebra crossing or working traffic lights to regulate the oncoming cars.

Before his mother could step off the sidewalk to cross the road, Yeonjun protectively pulled her back as a reflex, making sure it was safe to cross.

Their relationship was complicated, but it’s not like he wanted her to be run over by a car.

She looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his touch and his manners.

Yeonjun sighed, sticking out his arm as a sign that she should link arms with him. She hesitated but complied anyway, knowing that he was probably trying to meet her halfway.

She expected Yeonjun to be a lot more hostile, quiet and reserved like he always was. She expected him to be more on edge and afraid to interact with her as he did before, but she figured he had matured a lot in the year that he spent away from her and his father.

He blossomed; it was evident. He was confident and manly. He was a lot more vocal about his feelings and found solace and happiness in being away from home.

It made her happy that he seemed to have found himself at this school, with his friends and even a potential girlfriend? She really thought Yeonjun would be a loner for the rest of his life given his quiet and obsessively hard working nature.

As they made their way to the small coffee shop. Yeonjun opened the door for his mom to walk in first.

She reluctantly let go of his arm, giving him small smile. “What do you want to have?”

“Something incredibly strong.” Yeonjun huffed.

“We should’ve gone to a bar then.” His mom joked light-heartedly, which earned a small smile from Yeonjun’s end.

“How about an iced Americano?”

“That’s fine.”

Yeonjun took a seat at the back of the café, it was busy despite the early hour. And somehow he was thankful that they weren’t alone. As he looked at his mother interacting with the barista, he suddenly felt super weird about the whole thing.

He’s having coffee with his mother.

With….his mother.

It was almost as if he was stuck in a dream of some sort. As if he was catapulted to a different reality where they got along and went on coffee dates every Sunday morning to catch up.

His mind trailed off into a day-dream. He started thinking of you again, of everything that had happened last night. Somehow it felt like it happened days ago, but before he could snap out of it himself, his mother returned with the drinks.

“Here you go, I told them to put in an extra shot of espresso.” She handed him the cold plastic cup as she sat down.

He looked up, returning to reality as he took the first sip of his much-needed caffeine boost.

“Thank you,” he says softly stirring around the straw.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked crossing her legs. She hated how she couldn’t read him, and how much he reminded her of herself.

Yeonjun made eye contact with her again and studied her face. Anyone could tell that they were mother and son. They looked like spitting images of each other and it was almost scary to see how she scrunched her nose as she took a sip of her still too hot coffee the same way he does.

“How weird this is,” he answered honestly.

“I wish it wasn’t,” she admits, putting down her cup, as she looks at him insinuatingly.

Yeonjun nearly choked on his coffee. He looked at her wide-eyed as he cleared his throat, trying to regain composure.

“What changed?” He questions genuinely confused at his mothers sudden confession.

“Your dad won’t be able to control me anymore,” she said with a bitter smile.

“I never got why you stayed with him.”

“I had no choice. I know you think that I didn’t care about you, but I stayed with him so I could keep an eye on you and for the sake of my family's company...”

“How does that make sense.”

“If we divorced, do you honestly think he would let me have custody of you? There is so much more on the line than you can imagine Yeonjun. It’s a matter of billions.”

Yeonjun sighed, getting more and more impatient with the constant vagueness to her words.

“The life of your son should be worth more than all the money in the world.” He bites back, his tone more venomous than he intended.

His mother was taken aback by his comment, but she understood his anger. How could she not?

“I admit that I should have tried harder to protect you from your father, but I was just as scared as you are. For what it’s worth…I’m sorry,” she says choking up a little..

Did he just hear that right? Was that an apology?

His eyes grew in size as he saw the brims of her eyes fill with tears.

“Don’t cry, stop,” Yeonjun says frantically reaching for a napkin, handing it to her.

She sighed, taking the napkin from him to dab away the liquid before it could ruin her make-up.

“It’s going to take time,” she says. “But I’ll try to change. I want to be in your life more, but only if you want me to.”

He bit his lip, absentmindedly playing with the straw of his drink. “I’ve been doing well without you and dad. I have made friends that are like family, I’m doing well with my studies and I’m even on the basketball team. I’ve never felt more at home in my life. I don’t want that to change and I can’t just forget about something I suffered through for 21 years of my life, I can’t just forgive you because you said you’re sorry. Even if dad is dying.”

His mothers’ shoulders fell in defeat, she was sure that he was going to cut ties with her after this, he had every right to, and she wouldn’t have done anything differently.

“But,” he starts. “I’m willing to come home with you for a while. I want to speak to him while I still can, and it doesn’t feel right for you to be alone when he…you know…”

She couldn’t believe her ears. She was happy that he was willing to do this and she realised it took great maturity from him that she didn’t even know he had.

She took his hand, surprising Yeonjun in the process at the sudden affection.

He sighed, squeezing her hand in comfort. He wasn’t sure if he was doing this for the right reasons or not. Of course, going home in a situation like this would be the natural thing to do, but he had to admit that this was the perfect reason to run away from all the drama here as well. Maybe if he went back home for the rest of summer, he could forget about you for a while, and focus on rebuilding the relationship with his mother and get some sort of closure with is dad before it was too late.

The four of you talked about last nights’ events for a while now, about why Yeonjun and you decided to hide your relationship, why you panicked and mentioned Wooyoung, and about what was said in the aftermath of the unfortunate kiss. It was almost like a full therapy session.

“I got sick to my stomach when he told me to go sleep with Wooyoung instead. I just…snapped. I don’t understand why he would go that far over something so stupid and out of my control. He was way out of line, and I realise that I never should have slapped him but I…he promised he wouldn’t hurt me and that’s exactly what he did.”

“He was scary. I haven’t seen him like that, ever.” Taehyun affirms.

Mia gave Soobin a look you couldn’t quite read, but you noticed it.

“What was that?” You say shifting your attention to them, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

“Mia…” Soobin’s tone was warning her.

“She needs to know.”

“Know what?” you and Taehyun say at the same time.

Soobin sighed. “The night before the party, Yeonjun came home crying.”

“What?” you were shocked to say the least. It was the same night he left your house in a hurry with that dumb excuse, and the same night you snuck into their apartment when nothing seemed to be wrong with him.

He’s too good at hiding what he feels. And suddenly you start to doubt everything you know about him.

“Something happened, but he wouldn’t tell me what. He told me about his parents in more detail and…Ugh I shouldn’t say anything.” Soobin says suddenly stopping mid-sentence. "I promised him.”

“The circumstances are a little dire, don’t you think?” Taehyun says. “If it will help solve the situation then we need to know.”

You nodded in agreement and give Soobin a hopeful look.

He sighed in defeat. “His dad, he was abusive.”

“What?” Taehyun says in disbelief.

You couldn’t respond or compute. You just sat there zoning out to when Yeonjun told you that he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, but this…you could have never imagined this.

“Take it from the one with a psychology major, Yeonjun probably reacted the way he did on purpose. I think he wants to protect you from himself. He pushed you away because he’s afraid he can’t give you stability since he’s never had it himself. Most abuse victims go through self-loathing and self-doubt to deal with their feelings. ” Mia says in all seriousness.

You look at her, angered at the fact that she didn’t tell you when you poured your soul out to her last night. You thought it was your fault that he snapped at you the way he did, and now she suddenly wants to play the psychiatrist?

“You knew, and didn’t tell me?” you looked at both Soobin and Mia, your voice was shaky but it was evident that you were upset.

Mia sighed, running her hand through her hair. “It didn’t seem like the right moment.”

“When is it ever the right moment? If I knew, I would’ve seen right through him. I could have talked some sense into him instead of literally hitting him in the face! Do you know how awful that makes me feel? I put my hands on him and you’re telling me his dad has been doing that to him his whole life!?”

You were raising your voice at them at this point, and you didn’t care.

Taehyun grabbed your hand to calm you down in response.

Mia closed her eyes at your loud voice and flinched. She felt sorry, but she felt like she did the right thing by waiting for Soobin to tell you.

“It wasn’t our secret to tell y/n.” Soobin says calmly.

He’s right. This wasn’t their fault, but you needed to blame someone. You sigh burying your face in your hands, trying to calm down as Taehyun softly patted your back. “It’s okay to be frustrated, but don’t take it out on us…we’re just trying to help. We want the best for both of you.”

“I’m just so tired of all of this,” you say choking back tears of frustration.

The silence was disturbed by the loud ringing of Soobin’s phone. It startled you and everyone looked his way.

“It’s Beomgyu,” he says staring at the screen.

“Well, pick it up, it could be about Yeonjun.” Mia says nudging him.

Soobin accepted the call immediately and put the phone on speaker.

“Hyung, Yeonjun is leaving,” Beomgyu says in a panic.

All eyes in the room turned to shock and confusion as all of you looked at each other

“What do you mean leaving?” Soobin says as he sits up, alerted, and stressed.

“He got home, he’s packing his bags, and he’s leaving. He said something is going on with his family but he wouldn’t say what and he also didn’t mention how long he’d be gone for.”

Mia and you look at each other in distress. What the fuck was going on? Why does everything seem to go wrong all at once?

Taehyun grabbed his phone and started typing frantically, you averted your attention from Soobin to him and saw that he was Googling Yeonjun’s family name and the company names to see if there was any news.

How did you never think of that? These people are loaded corporate people, the internet must be full of information about them.

“I’m coming home. Make sure he doesn’t leave before I get here,” Soobin says as he hangs up.

“Hyung, wait,” Taehyun says as his eyes widened. “Look.”

He turned the phone so everyone could see.

“Daniel Choi to step down from CEO position due to health concerns,” you read out loud.

“Health concerns?” Soobin says confused as ever.

“What does that even mean?” Mia huffs.

“The article didn’t go into detail, but if he has to step down from his CEO position then…I guess it’s serious,” Taehyun says making sense of it all. “The timing is just…terrific,” he adds.

“I’m worried about him,” you say under your breath as you nervously bite your lip.

Even though you’re still mad at him for the way he acted, the empathy you felt for him overshadowed your anger.

“Let’s go find him then,” Soobin says as he got up, grabbing his car keys and jacket. “Right now.”

Soobin slammed the car door and rushed upstairs with Taehyun, Mia, and yourself trailing behind him.

He opened their front door and was greeted by a defeated looking Hueningkai and Beomgyu, seated on the couch in silence.

“Where is he?” you say barging through the door.

“He left ten minutes ago; we couldn’t stop him.” Hueningkai sulks as he throws his head back on the couch.

“What did he say?” Soobin asks, sitting down next to Beomgyu, putting his hand on his shoulder to console him.

“He said he had a family emergency and that he didn’t know how long he’d be gone for.” Beomgyu pouts.

“If only we know where he lived.” Hueningkai says as he looks at Soobin.

As the rest of your friends start to come up with theories and discuss everything that has happened, you start to remember something you saw in Yeonjun’s room the night that you were trapped under his bed. It was unpacked box, and you were sure you saw his last name on the label.

Before you knew it, you were already on your way to Yeonjun’s room, which earned you both startled and confused stares from the rest of them.

The boys and Mia follow you to his room, and as you get down on your knees to reach for the box under his bed, the confusion on everyone's faces only multiplied.

“What…are you doing.” Beomgyu asks as he gets closer to you.

You ignore him, taking out the box and looking for the label you spotted. “Here, I think this is his home address,” you say pointing to the label.

Soobins eyes widened, he handed the box to Taehyun, the smart one, to inspect it further.

“The package is from Choi So Ra, I think that’s his mom. It also says Happy Birthday, so it must be from last year.” Taehyun says listing all his findings.

“Why didn’t he open it?” Hueningkai questions in confusion

“That’s not the point, If his mom sent this then we know where he's going!” Mia says excitedly.

“How did you even know it was there?” Beomgyu asks you, scratching the back of his head.

“I saw it when I was hiding from Hueningkai the night before the party,” you explain in slight embarrassment.

Hueningkai’s soul nearly left his body as the realization hit him on why Yeonjun was acting so strange that night. “You were here!?”

You shrug apologetically. Sitting down on Yeonjun’s bed.

You spot the ugly leopard coat on his clothing rack and your mind starts to fill with bittersweet memories.

How did everything go to shit so quickly when things were looking up for you guys?

“If that’s his address then…what are we going to do with it?” Beomgyu asks, sitting down next to you; looking at Soobin with his big doe eyes.

Soobin cleared his throat, taking the box from Taehyun.

“Everyone go pack your shit, we’re going on a road trip.”

Chapter 9

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