OKAY but was anybody going to tell me that My Love Mix-Up was hilarious and actually like really freaking good??

Moment of Silence

nathan explosion x reader

songs;

silence by marshmello

sound of silence by simon and garfunkel

(literally any other song that says the word silence :))

summary: nathan meets the new member of the dethklok staff, they get along really well. toki and murderface find out the newbies troubled past.

warnings: reader killed a family member when they were young, they grew up in juvy and mental institutions, nightmares/flashbacks, nonverbal reader/uses asl, nathan literally just assumes he’s dating the reader, swearing

words: 2,750

a/n: despite the warnings, i promise this is supposed to be more fluffy than angsty but the reader does have some issues that they eventually discuss with nathan (nathan obviously thinks it’s totally brutal and has a hard time completely grasping the concept.)

———

“You will be able to see the bands therapist as well, if that’s, ah, something you think you need.” Charles informs you, handing you some paper work over his desk.

“That could be very helpful, thank you.” You sign, gently taking the paperwork from his hands. “I’m very grateful for this opportunity to work with you, as well as the band.”

You’ve just been hired as Dethkloks scheduler/planner, and as you walk back towards your new bedroom in Mordhaus you can’t begin to comprehend how the hell you got here. After you were allowed into the public, people often told you that you’d never get a job, that your background and record would never allow you to live comfortably with others. Well, it’s good to know they were wrong.

You’re glad Charles was so respectful towards you and your predicament, you quickly realize he is not a judgmental man. You had to explain to him your situation, or past situation, and he was kind and didn’t push too far for information.

When you were seven, you killed your older sister. You had suffered a mental breakdown, you were horribly stressed and lashed out in anger. After you gained your senses, you ran out of the house and to the closest adult you could find. You were covered in blood and were mistakenly taken to the hospital instead of the police station, but you informed a nurse of your situation and your sister back at the house.

Going to court as a seven year old was not easy, it was horrible and overwhelming. Eventually, the court came to the ruling that you would be taken to a juvenile detention center. You would be isolated from the other kids and be given extensive therapy. You move from juvy to mental institution, to another institution. You shut down and stopped responding verbally, the moving around and feeling like you were just some thing to burden others was getting to you. You missed your sister.

Soon enough, you were taught American Sign Language. As you grew older, you made lots of progress in therapy. While in your late teens, you were allowed to attend a public high school with supervision. It wasn’t until you were 21 that you were deemed well enough, and adjusted enough, to integrate into society. You had to work in jobs with little to no human contact, and often paid very little. But you got by, enough so that you could afford your own small, dingy little apartment.

Now you live in Mordhaus with Dethklok. Who still have yet to meet you, even though you’ll be working fairly closely with them. You’re sure Charles has at least told them about you. You decide to go sit in the meeting room and fill out the papers Charles gave you. The room is quiet and kind of cold, which makes you shiver and pull your large coat around you further.

You sit for about ten minutes before the door opens and Nathan Explosion walks in- well more like lumbers in, his posture is poor and his steps are heavy. His dark hair hangs over half his face and it takes him a few seconds to register someone already sitting in the room. Nathan had wanted to go for a little walk after recording with the other boys, but he quickly realized he doesn’t like walking and decided to sit down. So, he entered the meeting room, where he knew no one would be. Or so he thought.

His eyes are wide as he stares at you, but he relaxes when you just go back to your work. He quietly sits down in the chair across from you. He can’t keep his eyes off you, you’re probably the most attractive person he’s ever seen. You’re nothing like the groupies he hangs out with, not even close, but for some reason that makes you all the more beautiful. You’re not even trying to get his attention and yet you have all of it. You feel his stare boring into your skull so you subtly look up from your paperwork, only to find his eyes locked right on yours. You can’t pull your gaze away and neither of you say anything.

You sit silently for what feels like half an hour, just staring at eachother but neither of you feel particularly uncomfortable. When you look over to the clock, effectively breaking the staring match, you notice that you have been sitting in here for thirty minutes. Just as your about to get up Charles bursts through the door.

“Y/n! Where ah, where have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ten minutes. We have a meeting.” He walks over to you, checking the clock and gently guiding you out the door as you stand up completely. You look back at Nathan as you leave and watch as he stares daggers into your ass, only serving to make you scoff in amusement.

The meeting with Charles goes on for about an hour, and at that point it’s time for bed. You head up to the floor you’re staying on, locking your door behind you, and you flop into bed. What you don’t know is Nathan and the rest of the band are talking about you in the living space hot tub.

“—and we were just sitting there quietly. It was the most emotional bonding I think I’ve ever had with someone, it was brutal. So, uh, yeah, I think we’re dating now.” Nathan smiles his gorgeous little smile, his arms spread wide in a gesture of excitement. Pickles, who sits across from him in the hot tub, furrows his brows in confusion.

“Wait- hold on. You think yer datin’ them just because you sat silently and stared at each other for a little while? Dood, that’s not how that works.” Pickles shakes his head, and Toki looks back at him in bewilderment.

“Whats do you mean, Pickle? They haves an emoktionals bonds!” Toki gestures wildly with his hand, accidentally splashing water into Wills face. “Oh, sorry Moidaface.”

“Ja, they obviousklys haves an emotionals bond.” Skwisgaar nods along.

“Yeah! Who the hell schits schilently with schomeone like that if they don’t have an emoschional bond? They were schpending quality time together!” Murderface points at Nathan with his half empty beer bottle, a wide smile on his face. “I’m happy for you man!”

“Thanks, guys. They’re a really cool person, I’m glad I’m dating them.” Nathan beams at the others and giggles a little in excitement, he hasn’t had a serious partner in a real long time. Especially, one that’s so nice and appreciates silent quality time.

“Yer not dating them, Nathan, you haven’t even asked them out. They don’t even know you!” Pickles tries to talk some sense into the others. Nathan’s smile falters slightly.

“What are you talking about? Everyone knows who I am.” A confused expression finds itself on Nathan’s face.

An hour or two goes by of finishing up in the hot tub and watching some stupid show on TV before they all decide to go to bed. Nathan sits up, alone in his sea of a bed and thinks of you. Your cute little face. God, how the hell are you so cute? He’s never thought anyone was ‘cute’ before. Hot, sure, but cute? No way. He doesn’t like cute, he likes brutal. He likes hot and sexy. But holy shit, you’re so cute and he likes it so much. He’s sure you can be sexy and hot too, but he doesn’t know what that looks like yet. He can’t wait til he does.

Nathan stops for a second, a thought crossing his mind. What if you don’t know you two are dating? I mean, you must! Why else would you sit with him like that?

The next day you wake up to a call from Charles, another meeting is in store. Though, this time with Dethklok. You tell him you’ll be down there in about ten minutes, so you hurry to get dressed and brush your teeth, aiming solely for presentable. You enter the meeting room, Charles is the only one there. He’s adjusting some papers in front of his seat, but then he notices you and gestures for you to sit in the chair to his left. He quickly gives you the run down of what the meeting is supposed to be about, but warns you that they often go off topic. You nod along and listen intently.

Soon enough, the boys wander in, grouchy and obviously not prepared to wake up so early. Pickles isn’t even wearing a shirt. So much for presentable, you think giggling silently to yourself.

Nathan sits across from you, locking eyes with you as soon as possible. His expression is stoic, possibly even blank. The rest of the band sits down in random chairs, some leaving gaps between themselves. They settle down pretty quickly as Charles stands up.

“Alright boys, ah, this is Y/n L/n. They’re going to be working very closely with us, uh, helping with scheduling events, tours, and things. Please, be respectful.” Charles announces, they murmur in response, seemingly hellos. You wave gently. “Now, I’d uh, like to talk about our budget for this next event. It’s very tight, we don’t want to have any unnecessary purchases—“

“Are you and Nathan dating?” Murderface half-yells to you from quite a few chairs away. His face is contorted in confusion, and soon enough so is yours. Charles is frozen, absolutely shocked at this question and looking at him you understand he has no idea how to help you.

“What do you mean?” You sign, you’re nervous and your hands are slightly shaky. It’s the first time you’re meeting them and one of them is already accusing you of sleeping with the other.

“Why are they throwing up gang schigns?” Murderface now turns to Charles, who sits down in exasperation. When he warned you the band could go off topic, you had no idea it would happen so quickly. You’re taken aback at his question for Charles, and you burst out laughing. Nathan watches quietly, starting to giggle along with you, even if he doesn’t quite understand why you’re laughing.

“That was sign language, you dildo.” Pickles facepalms and leans his elbows against the table. “They don’t speak, I’m guessin’, so they have to use their hands to talk.”

A chorus of “oh”’s erupt from the group.

“That’s why they were silents with Nathan’s!” Toki exclaims, pointing to Nathan not-so-subtly. Nathan’s face falls and his entire body runs cold. Oh, God, are you two not dating?

“Wait, so we’re not dating?” He grumbles, but not out of anger, he’s actually a little embarrassed. His hands fidget underneath the table and his leg starts to bounce up and down. He keeps trying to blow a stand of hair out of his face, but it won’t go and the touch of it is quickly starting to overstimulate him.

You tilt your head at him in confusion, your mouth hanging open, but as always no words come out.

“I’m sorry.” You sign, you actually feel a little bad. He obviously thought you two had something the day before, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice.

“They apologize.” Charles tells Nathan, and quickly changes the subject. “Back to the situation at hand, this next event is very important and we really, uh, really need to limit your spending on it…”

The meeting ends an hour later, the boys were all stunned into silence at your admission. Charles was actually able to get all the information across that he wanted, although he can’t guarantee that they were actually listening. At least you were.

You walk back to your room, contemplating the entire thing that just went down. Obviously, Nathan is a very attractive man, and he definitely thinks spending quality time together is a good thing but, he knows nothing about you. How could you possibly bring up your past in a way he would be okay with, let alone understand at all? It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up. So, you don’t. You see him pretty often for the next few weeks but you always sit silently together like the first time.

He never makes you feel bad for not explaining anything that meeting room situation, doesn’t even ask you about it. He just sits and lets himself enjoy the time you spend together. You eventually become so comfortable around each other you let him hook his pinky finger with yours when you sit together. Touching has always been an issue with you, it’s not easy to open up or to let people in. But you want to let him in, he’s been very patient and gentle with you. It’s not something you’re used too, most people just assume you can handle rough housing, even if they know your past.

Charles doesn’t assume anything. He understands that you might need to step back for a few minutes sometimes, and he understands how important space is to you. So, over the weeks, turning on months, he lets you take breaks and to step back and work alone for a little while.

The others get curious about you, but they obviously can’t ask you since they don’t know sign language. So they go to Charles at first. He, in no way, is comfortable or okay with discussing you and your past without your permission. So, he shuts them down pretty quickly. They take to the internet then, looking up your name and finding old news papers and articles of the incident. Pickles starts to feel dirty learning about something so sensitive about you, he feels bad. Skwisgaar gets upset at Toki and Murderface, telling them it’s wrong that they’re looking at this. Toki and Murderface obviously, end up thinking that they have to “warn” Nathan.

They tell him but he doesn’t seem to grasp the information fully, he quickly exclaims that it’s brutal and you’re more metal than he thought.

The night before Nathan wants to talk to you, you have a nightmare. Though, they aren’t uncommon for you. You remember the day, your sisters blood on your hands and how bad your legs hurt from running away. How hard your heart pounded in your chest. You wake up screaming and crying, which causes a klokateer to burst into your room searching for an intruder. You quickly inform him of your problem and he asks if you need him to get Charles, you decline.

Nathan was outside, he could hear your hollers from your room, watched as a klokateer came to help you. As the man leaves, Nathan steps into the doorway. He watches you sit up in your bed, holding your face in your hands and sobbing quietly. In that moment he starts to realize maybe this is more brutal than he thought, and not in a good way.

“Hey.” Nathan calls out gently, still keeping his distance in your doorway. You look up and for once he can’t quite meet your eyes. “I uhhh… Heard about what happened to you. Do you… uhhhhhh, need to talk about it?”

You smile tentatively, you shake your head ‘no’ and beckon him forward gently. He shuts the door with little force and comes up to sit next to you in your bed. He’s been trying to learn sign language over the weeks you’ve spent together, so he leans over and signs while he speaks.

“Is everything okay?” His hands are a little clumsy but it makes you beam up at him in excitement.

“I will be okay.” You sign back, and you can tell he understands.

“That’s good.” He mumbles, relaxing next to you and sitting up against your headboard with you. Your shoulders touch gently, it sends a shiver down both of you. You’ve noticed he seems fairly averse to touching as you do, but he breathes out a slow breath and loosens up.

“I have issues too. If you uhhh, need to talk… We can uhhhhhh… Oh, God this is horrible I hate talking about this.” Nathan grunts in embarrassment. You chuckle and set your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I know what you mean.” You turn to sign at him, but quickly find your place against him again. You’re glad he isn’t upset with you, or hates you for what happened. You’re glad he understands.

For You: 4 O’Clock

Chapter 6: Could’ve Been

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Taemin’s grip on my hand was gentle despite the tense muscles protruding along his jaw. 

Even when we were alone in our room again, and he dropped my hand to sit on the corner of his bed to eye me with something like pain in his eyes, I didn’t ask what was wrong. Even if I didn’t fully understand, I knew. 

“What’s going on with you and Lucas?” Taemin phrased the question as casually as he could, but he didn’t get that sharp, cutting look out of his eyes. Maybe he couldn’t. 

Too stiff with the fear that he might look at me like that forever to sit on my bed, I shifted from one foot to the other. How many times had I denied that rumor with the roll of my eyes? I couldn’t even count the instances— they were everyday occurrences— and yet I was stunned speechless when Taemin looked to me for the same answer I gave every time. 

That was the worst part of liking Taemin: always being rendered speechless from a single glance. 

Had his tone been harsher, or had he not sighed like I had stolen his breath in the cruelest way, I might have snapped that it was none of his business whether Lucas and I were friends of lovers— although, looking back, I understand that my romantic life was everybody’s business. 

But Taemin’s tone wasn’t harsh, He did wheeze and fix his gaze on the ribbon on his wrist. And I understood that although nothing happened, I hurt him. And although I meant no harm, I was sorry. 

“Nothing,” I told the truth quietly. 

It always bothered me when people didn’t believe me, but I was never as nauseated as when Taemin doubted me. A frown pulled his lips taut, and he used my name as if it were an instrument to compel me toward deeper honesty. 

“Lei.” He looked up at me. “I can’t keep your secrets unless you trust me with them. If you’re dating Lucas, I can help you see him while you’re grounded—”

“No!”

Taemin’s eyes rounded, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. 

There was no way to distract myself from the racing of my heart or the fact that Taemin was watching me so intently— so curiously— and yet I thought that pacing would busy my mind. I didn’t want to admit it, but honesty was the only way out of this confrontation, and I would have to pry deeper than the common truth that I wasn’t dating Lucas. 

“I’m not dating Lucas. And I don’t like him like that. I like you.” 

Taemin’s blinding smile stopped me in my tracks— stopped the pacing— but it did little to calm my heart. 

His only response was, “Oh,” as he beamed like he hadn’t been angry or otherwise hurt just moments before. 

Taemin didn’t ask me to explain why I had been in Lucas’s room first thing in the morning, but I did anyway. Comfortable enough to sit on my bed, but never comfortable enough to watch as I wiped the smile from his face, I said, “I went to ask Lucas to swap roommates with me.” 

“What?” Taemin crossed the distance between us and sat by my side, probably thinking that sudden proximity would inspire me to look at him. He adopted an almost childlike tone to ask, “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

I shook my head. 

I must have been so confusing to Taemin. One minute, he found me face to face with a shirtless Lucas; then, he heard me confess to liking him (which I guess is a big deal even though it had always been obvious); and now he had to respond to my admission that I wanted— no, needed— another roommate.

“No.” I laced my cold hands together and stared at where they rested on my lap. “I just— I can’t sleep when you’re so close. Or maybe the problem is that you’re so far away. And—” I couldn’t stand the sound of my voice saying this stuff, even if it was true— “ah! This is so embarrassing!”

The second I buried my face in my hands, Taemin promised, “It’s okay. It’s not embarrassing, so just—” 

He knelt on the floor, grabbed around my wrists, and pried my hands away so I could meet his eyes. They were smiling. Almost always smiling. 

“— look at me. I’m not embarrassed, so you shouldn’t be embarrassed either.” 

Although I thought Taemin was never appropriately embarrassed by anything— he was shameless— I nodded despite the numb blush staining my face. 

Here’s the problem with honesty: once you start telling the truth, you can’t stop. 

I rambled, “I stayed up all night because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

It was mortifying enough that I said that out loud before Taemin laughed with absolutely no restraint.  I threw myself down on the bed and hid my face in a pillow, never in a million years imagining that Taemin would be bold enough to squeeze into the small space between my body and the edge of the bed, wrap an arm around my waist, and whisper in my ear, “We can sleep together if you want.” 

Gasping, I rolled onto my back and swatted at him. Instantly, I regretted my instinct; even if he was being a brat, I never wanted to hurt Taemin. 

Thankfully, he wasn’t too offended. He laughed harder and tightened his hold around me so he wouldn’t fall onto the floor. He smiled that authentic smile that made me think— maybe— he wasn’t joking and — maybe— he wasn’t being a pervert. 

“What do you think, Lei? Do you think you could sleep like this?” 

“No,” I would have said if Taeyong didn’t interrupt with his knock on the door, “I could not sleep like this. Can’t you feel how fast my heart is beating? You’ll kill me.” 

Except I probably couldn’t have said anything even if given the chance. Even if I could have spoken, I wouldn’t have heard my frail voice over the thundering pulse in my ears. 

Before Taeyong opened the door, Taemin jumped out of my bed and raced to meet him. As if he hadn’t just been teasing me, Taemin donned that polite smile and asked, “Do you want to come in?” 

Once I caught my breath, I sat on the edge of my bed. I waved at Taeyong and watched as he shook his head in response to Taemin’s question. He rubbed sleepily at his eyes and said, “No, thanks. I just came to tell you two that we have to leave early. We’re supposed to get down to the van, like, now.” 

As I scrambled off the bed to change out of my pajamas, I tossed Lucas’s hat off. As soon as I caught sight of myself in the mirror, though, I dove for the hat and put it back on because— yikes— it was going to take a miracle stylist to fix the bird’s nest on my head. 

When Taemin promised Taeyong that we would be downstairs in five minutes or less, I mistakenly thought he was done teasing me. I thought the business day had started, and that meant that all this talk about liking each other— all the talk about ribbons and roses— would resume with the rising of the moon. 

I didn’t realize how wrong I was until we squeezed into the too-small bathroom to brush our teeth side by side. In the mirror, his smiling eyes met mine, which were swollen from two consecutive nights of little sleep. 

My eyebrows knit together. “What?” 

“Nothing.” He spat into the sink. But it wasn’t nothing. “I’m just thinking about how I’ll get to hold you after the concert.” 

I choked on my mouthful of toothpaste as Taemin brushed by me, giggling like a little boy on his way out of the bathroom. Was this how things were going to be every day of the tour? He was going to take every chance to tease me? 

When I walked back into the room and started rooting through my suitcase for the oversized hoodie I packed specifically to wear on the way to and from venues, I was careful to conceal my blush. 

I said, “I never said I would sleep with you, Taemin,” but he didn’t respond. 

Because the hoodie was nowhere in my bag, I started looking on and around the bed, never expecting that I would find it when Taemin, from his place by the door, cleared his throat to hurry me along. 

The gray hoodie looked a lot different on him, I guess, because he was taller and more muscular than I was. 

“Taemin!” I scolded, running to his side as if seeing him up close would disprove the reality that he was wearing my hoodie. “You can’t take my clothes!”

“Why not?” He tilted his head, held out his dark blue jacket— the one he gave me on the plane— and waved it around until I took it into my arms. “This is what roommates do, Lei. They share their clothes.” 

When he strutted into the hallway, he must have assumed that I wouldn’t carry on the conversation where anyone could hear. He must not have expected me to double my pace to catch up, clutching his jacket in my crossed arms as I hissed, “We can’t do this. The others will misunderstand, and the fans—” 

My voice crumbled when he rounded on me. He stifled giggles as if he had just conceived the funniest joke and raised a single eyebrow. “Is it really a misunderstanding if I like you and you like me?”

Always unsure of what to say, I blinked at Taemin’s nerve. My voice was a barely audible whisper. “It’s not right to knowingly fuel dating rumors when we aren’t even dating.” 

Then, like we weren’t standing in a hall of a populated building, Taemin stopped laughing and asked, “Do you want to, though? Do you want to date me?” 

He sounded very much like Sehun. 

And I wheezed, thinking that he was really ruining this whole thing— this whole experience of falling in love with him when nobody was watching— until he made this goofy winking face. 

You would have to see it to understand why I couldn’t look at him for the rest of the night without breaking into fits of laughter. And I don’t think you can ever see it because it was one of those once in a lifetime things. I’m sorry.

I had just walked out of the bathroom, muscles sore from the concert and hair dripping from a shower, when Taemin held his phone out to me with the simple explanation, “Sehun wants to talk to you.”

“Sehun?” 

My forehead wrinkled as I read the text on Taemin’s screen and wondered how Sehun had worked out this way to contact me while my phone was confiscated. I shouldn’t have been surprised; I never could escape Sehun’s reach. 

Still, we rarely talked between company events. I always guessed that he stopped liking me after each most recent rejection, but maybe he just had to work up the nerve or desire to talk to me again. 

I guess if I’m honest, I would admit that I was concerned about Sehun. I would admit that I was sick from guilt every time I thought about how I talked to him at Donghae’s party. I would admit that all that kept me from texting paragraphs of apologies (before Mom took my phone) was the fact that he would misunderstand.

Maybe this doesn’t make sense, but often all that kept me from talking to Sehun was the fear that he would willfully misinterpret my intentions. It was sad, really, when I thought about the fact that maybe, in some other universe, we could have been friends like I wanted -- like we once were. Or maybe, in some other universe, we could have been lovers like he wanted-- like I probably once dreamed. 

Could’ve Been. 

Taemin really ruined my mind with that song. 

I think I felt so sad those days because I was mourning all the things I could’ve been if I wasn’t an idol. I could’ve been free to hug Lucas and tell him how adorable he was (although he already knew) and laugh as hard as I wanted when he ruffled my hair. 

I could’ve been free to go to the movies with Sehun as he we did during trainee days, and maybe then the feelings he wanted me to have could’ve blossomed, unaffected by my suffocating fear of being involved in a scandal. 

I could’ve been free to act on that desire to kiss Taemin’s lips and see if that would ease the ache in my chest that had always been there, that I just couldn’t ignore anymore after that night in the garden. 

I know these thoughts are useless, and that’s why I didn’t say them out loud— not to Lucas, definitely not to Sehun, not to Taemin (who swore he wanted to hear my thoughts), and not even to Mom (who probably knew the sting of could’ve been better than anyone I ever knew). 

Did I think those thoughts would leave my mind if I didn’t give them my voice? That hope was probably the catalyst for my silence more than the pressure to be the perfect idol who only smiles. That kind of silence doesn’t work, though, if you need someone to tell you. That kind of silence never made me happier; it built walls between myself and others, and I didn’t know how to take the walls down until I broke down like I did in the garden. 

I didn’t want to be lonely anymore, and I think that’s why I couldn’t keep myself from falling in love with Taemin despite my fear of all the things I knew I shouldn’t think, feel, do, or say. 

“Yep.” Taemin’s voice brought me back to reality as he walked by, carrying his pajamas into the bathroom. “In case you don’t know, Kai said that Sehun likes you.” 

Driven only by the urge to look at him— this person whom I wanted to see me as I was— I looked into the bathroom to find that Taemin was leaning against the door frame, studying my expression. His stare wasn’t necessarily disapproving or in any way judgmental— just curious— but I squirmed anyway. 

I asked, “Is this the part where I remind you that I like you?” This time, I didn’t stutter or hide my face after admitting my feelings. 

Maybe Taemin didn’t realize that he was looking at me. A blush broke out across his face as he shook his head. “No— no, I remember. You don’t have to remind me every time a boy wants to talk to you.” 

He smiled, flashing his shining teeth, before closing the door. And I didn’t realize until he was out of sight that I wasn’t ready to stop talking to him.

Taemin took the longest shower in the history of mankind. I was about to give up on waiting for him to walk to Lucas’s room when, finally, he walked out of the steaming bathroom wearing sky blue pajamas and a towel on his head. 

Maybe he would have teased me for staring and (obviously) thinking that he was much more beautiful as a real life person than as an idol had I not stunned him by jumping off of my bed and into my slippers. 

“We have to go to Lucas and Kai’s room.” I returned his phone, assuming that he would read the messages and understand, but he only dropped the phone into his pocket. He furrowed his brow, and I had to explain, “Sehun said that Baekhyun is trying to find out what’s going on with Mom and Donghae because, somehow, he thinks he can use the information to blackmail Mom into being EXO’s manager.”

Taemin’s confusion deepened at the explanation as he tugged the towel off of his head. “What?”

“Clearly,” I stifled my giggles at Taemin’s expression, “the plan only makes sense in Baekhyun’s twisted brain. Still, I won’t be able to sleep until I tell Lucas—”

Somehow rational despite his bewilderment, Taemin sat on his bed, pulled socks over his feet, and asked, “But why do you have to tell Lucas? It’s not like he can do anything to control Baekhyun— none of us can!”

“That’s not the point.” I walked over to the door, rested my hand on the handle, and tried to explain, “When I’m uncomfortable about something— like Baekhyun threatening to learn my mom’s secrets to weaponize them— I have to tell Lucas because he’s my best friend.” 

Taemin blinked, not quite comprehending, as he walked to my side, so I asked, “How would you feel if you couldn’t tell Kai about something troubling as soon as it happened?”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. So I understand why you want to tell Lucas, but do we really have to walk over to his room at this hour?” 

We. 

Why had I complicated matters by waiting for Taemin instead of tiptoeing to Lucas’s room alone like I had that morning? I didn’t know. I hadn’t thought at all. Waiting for Taemin came naturally. 

I opened my mouth to tell Taemin that he was right— he didn’t have to escort me anywhere— he didn’t have to help me break Mom’s rule forbidding me from talking to Lucas outside of performances— but I bit my tongue when he pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“We should just text Jongin from the comfort of our own room,” he suggested, “and he can share his phone with Lucas.”

We. 

Why was that word taking my breath away? 

I shook my head like that would shake the blush from my face. Bringing Kai into this was the last thing I wanted to do. What if he was involved with Baekhyun’s scheme? It seemed unlikely, but I didn’t know what was going on with EXO; maybe they were desperate. How would he react if he learned that Mom was the idol who never debuted? Would that apprehensive, disapproving shadow return to his eyes the next time he looked at me? 

Sensing my discomfort even when I didn’t voice it, Taemin tossed his phone onto my bed and offered a smile that promised, “Jongin won’t tell anyone, and he won’t think less of you, or your mom, or Donghae. You don’t have to text him if you don’t want to— we can walk down to their room— but I don’t think we should talk about these secrets out loud where others could hear.” 

Objectively, it was smarter to borrow Taemin’s trust in Kai than risk being caught by Mom or other members on our walk down the hall to discuss secrets that weren’t even ours. It was smarter to borrow Taemin’s phone than try to find a moment alone with Lucas to discuss private matters where others could overhear and misinterpret as they always did. 

“Okay.” After grabbing Taemin’s phone from the foot of my bed, I sat with my back against a tower of pillows piled by the headboard. Somehow, probably because of the word ‘we,’ I believed that Taemin would follow. 

Instead, Taemin crawled into his own bed light-years away. I probably should have let him. I probably should have learned to accept the distance. But I didn’t. 

Maybe he didn’t know that I wanted to be close to him. Maybe I hadn’t made that desire clear enough. Maybe he wanted to hear me ask, voice wavering, “What ever happened to your promise to hold me after the concert, Taemin?”

Maybe he wanted to see the blush that accompanied my true smile when he climbed into that space next to me— the space he filled that morning, the place I hoped he would fill every night for the rest of the tour, the place I hoped he would never leave— while promising, “I’m here. Go on and text Jongin.” 

I wouldn’t have known what to say to Kai even if Taemin wasn’t distracting me just by existing nearby. Unable to avoid his gaze, I pressed the phone into Taemin’s hand and admitted, “I don’t know how to talk to Kai.” 

And Taemin laughed the same unrestrained laugh from that morning as he laid his head on my shoulder and texted Kai on my behalf. After that, I can’t remember holding my own heart ever again.

Flowers in Blood

A/N: PLOT TRAIN ROLLS ON CHOO CHOOOOO. This one took a bruiser on my wrist so Idk if i’ll write tomorrow. Also, the greek is “little mouse” 

Summary: The Gala takes place but alas, things go awry. 

Warnings: Slight non-con

Taglist: @lucywrites02​ *(Let me know if you want to be tagged!!)* 

Chapter 4: Red Rose 

The sun's morning light seeped through the tiny slit between the curtains. In the light's path lay two peacefully sleeping spies. Jonathan had his back facing the window and one arm wrapped around Katie’s resting form while the other was under his pillow. It was inevitable that this sort of thing would happen and although Pine did promise he wouldn’t end up in this position, the odds were against him. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open as his body had told him it was time to wake up and he inhaled sharply. He panicked a little as he realized what position he was in and carefully removed his arm from over her. Much to his sheer luck, Katie woke up with a gasp as he did so and felt an odd poking at her backside. “I-I’m so sorry.” He blushed, looking away from her and getting up from the once comfortable state he was in. “Biology. I can’t help it.” He tried to explain further, stumbling over his own words and exhaling loudly. This was humiliating. She probably thought he was a damn pervert after all that work they’d done to get her comfortable with his touch… 

“It’s ok. I uh… Actually woke up a bit before you and I forgot what it felt like to be held.” Katie’s cheeks matched Pines as she looked down at her own hands. “It was nice.” She added quietly and coyly flicked her gaze up at the dark blonde man. 

Jonathan’s blue eyes widened slightly at her confession and felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest. “Really? I mean, that’s great.” He laughed dryly, pressing his lips together and nodded his head. He continued to chastise himself internally at his sudden dumb school boy antics. This woman had him feeling all giddy and tingly inside for some reason. She was much too young of course, wasn’t she? No, she was definitely in the appropriate category of a possible hook-up. Pine mentally smacked himself for letting his hormones think for him and sighed through his nose. “How long do we have until the gala? I was kind of wanting to maybe look around for a cafe and grab a coffee.” Katie’s question brought Pine out of his internal struggle and he looked up at her. “It starts at 5 PM sharp and it’s 9 AM right now. I suppose we’ve got a bit of time for leisure, I’m going to stay up here and give Angela a call for the plan of action. If anything bothers you or you sense something suspicious, come back right away and keep your phone on you.” He watched the girl rummage through her suitcase before pulling out a nicer set of clothing. “Ok! I won’t be gone for very long as I do want to doll up… I haven’t worn makeup in a long time.” She smiled bashfully, pushing her bangs from her eyes. “Oh! Do you uh, want anything maybe?” She shook her head and raised her brows at Jonathan. “Earl Grey tea if they have it, otherwise no thanks.” 

Nodding, the young woman shut the bathroom door and changed into something more appealing. Katie figured a cute pink cardigan over a tank top and a pair of black skinny jeans was acceptable. Her sneakers were out of the question and she opted for a pair of flats. As she brushed her teeth, she couldn’t help but wonder what sort of dress Angela had picked out and prayed it would fit or at least be somewhat nice. Giving her messy hair a brush through and putting deodorant on, Katie came out of the bathroom and grabbed her phone, wallet and room card. “I shouldn’t be longer than like ten minutes. If I am, I’ll let you know.” She gave a wave to Pine as he stared at her before waving at him again. He blinked and shook his head, “Sorry, er yeah. See you then and be careful.” He cleared his throat as the door to their suite shut. Despite their short time together, Pine never took Katie for the pink type. He found that he rather liked her in that color and how her ass looked in her skinny jeans- Jonathan groaned, smacking his forehead as his morning wood thought for him just as he hoped it went away to save him some embarrassment. 

The lobby was massive to say the least, and Katie was just now taking in how grand the place truly was as she hadn’t last night. “Stunning, is it not?” A woman’s thick accented voice caught the brunette off guard. Her green eyes locked with sharp amber orbs with bright red lips to match her pale complexion. “Y-Yeah.” Katie stuttered out, blushing a little as this woman was gorgeous. “Sorry, this is my first time out of the United States.” She rubbed the back of her neck, smiling sheepishly. The woman raised her eyebrows, yet gave her a charming smile “I can see that. No offense, dear but you do look a little lost. Were you by chance looking for somewhere or someone in particular?” She inquired. Katie nodded, “I was hoping there was a cafe around here so I could grab a coffee and a tea for my f-fiance.” She blushed hard thinking about Pine and fiddled with the fake engagement ring on her finger. “Ohh how sweet!!” The woman swooped over, placing her arm gently around Katie’s shoulders. “Come, come dear. I’ve been here thousands of times and I will show you the best spot for coffee. Oh how rude of me, my name is Abbey.” She gave the brunette’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Katie was about to reply but her brain suddenly clicked at the name and her appearance. Dark curled hair, piercing eyes and slender form. She had to assume that Abbey was short for Abbadon. 

“Oh jeeze, I’m sorry. I really need that coffee, I’m Natasha Romans.” she smiled, holding her hand out and shaking Abbeys. “You’re a funny one aren’t you.” The auburn haired woman chuckled, leading her new friend over to the cafe. She ushered Katie to sit with her and gave a genuine smile. While she did deal in the underground business and committed unsavory crimes, it was nice to have a casual and harmless conversation with the public from time to time. It reminded her of the life she had wanted over the life she lived. “So since you said you are from America, I am from Greece. I come from a large wealthy family but the status of my wealth does not compensate for who I am as a person. In fact, I prefer the little pleasures in life over the vast amount of wealth.” Abbadon picked up her menu and skimmed over the options. Katie couldn’t tell or not if this woman truly meant what she said as her appearance was saying otherwise. However, just because one is in a world of crime does not mean that they would like to continue to be in that lifestyle. “That’s really admirable of you. I like that a lot actually. Uh…” she gulped a little as she had mistakenly picked up a menu that was strictly in Russian. Her sudden panic brought Abbadon’s attention back, “Oh I apologize. Here, allow me to read the options for you as I’m fluent in speech and writing… And thank you, it humbles me so that you think alike.” She flashed the young woman a smile before translating for her. “You see, the finest gems are often the little places that no one goes to often. Unfortunately, 90% of the time these places do not have any English as it is universal, but that is exactly what I like about these corner delights.” She nodded, placing the menu down. 

For a crime lord, Abbadon was extremely smooth and charismatic with her way of words. Her accent did not pose any hindrance to her English, which made Katie feel a bit better knowing she could understand her properly. “You’ve got a point! There is a little cafe where I’m from except further up north. I come from Michigan, I can point the place out really easily seeing as I can use my hand as the map.” She chuckled, seeing no harm in a little mindless conversation. Abbadon laughed softly at her gesture and nodded, “That is extremely useful!! Mm, yes I was right. You are a funny one indeed.” She smiled and listened to Katie give details on the cafe she had mentioned. Abbadon had a rather wistful look in her eyes as she listened further. She would be lying to herself if she said she had zero envy for such a mundane life. The drinks finally arrived with Abbadon ordering something fancy while Katie stuck to a regular Caramel Macchiato. “Ah, hold on one moment, I need to text my fiance and tell him I’ll be occupied for a little longer with a new friend.” The brunette woman beamed, shooting a quick text to Pine. 

O’Connor - Soooo I think I just may or may not have made buddies with our main lady. 

Pine’s eyes widened upon seeing this and he furiously tapped away. 

Me - What do you mean by that? You’re not in trouble are you? 

O’Connor - No! I accidentally made friends with her. Don’t worry, I’m not spilling anything. She seems really genuine though. Makes me feel bad she’s on the wrong side of the law. Anyways, I’ll let you in on more later. 

“Fuck.” Jonathan bit his lip and ran a hand over his face. At first, he was going to call her on one of the worst rookie offenses she made, but this gave him an idea. He had to get on Roper's good side, and that was a rookie move he did so why not let her get on their target's good side. Perhaps, Abbadon would even slip up about her true work. 

“Sorry about that, Fiance’s worried and all. He thinks we aren’t going to make it to the gala on time tonight if I keep chatting.” She saw Abbadon smile widely and clasp her hands together. “Why my dear! I hadn’t the faintest idea you were attending, oh how exciting!! Today just got better.” she spoke truthfully, taking a sip of her coffee. “I am ever so curious as to what you will be wearing. I can see the vixen in you.” She winked and took another sip. This caused Katie to blush hard and chuckle, “Thank you! You’re stunning as well, Abbey. Honestly, you’d make anything look good.” Both women chortled at the image and carried on about the Gala. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Abbadon lowered her voice, “Some of the artwork that is being shown tonight is fraudulent. Now, being in the business I am something like that shouldn’t bother me. Oh but it does.” She rolled her eyes, giving a huff. “You see, I have an eye for the arts and I do not care how much the fake may resemble the actual piece! I could never steal art. Not for money or for false identity. Art is meant to be admired and inspire great minds. I am a painter myself in my downtime.” She pulled her phone out and showed Katie a few pieces of hers. Either she was the best bullshitter Katie had ever met, or she was truly talented. All her doubts were proven wrong as there was a picture of Abbadon posing by a work of hers with a little boy. She smiled fondly at the picture, sighing. “My little Nikolai. He is my greatest work of art and my business trips have me missing him so. His birthday is coming up soon and it breaks my heart that I cannot be there for him.” her voice saddened. This was something Katie was sure of that Abbadon wasn’t lying about. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She placed a comforting hand on the other woman’s and smiled. “How old will he be turning?” At this question, Abbadon perked up again and smiled softly, “He will be ten! He is turning the double digits. Ohhh I remember when he was but a tiny peanut.” She wistfully reminisced fondly over her baby boy. “He was the fattest little chunk, so many rolls! But he was so precious. He will always be precious to me. I call him each night to tell him he means the world to me and we recite a tale my grandmother told me growing up. It is of love and that no matter what, the stars will shine for us.” She gave Katie’s hand a squeeze back. 

“That’s beautiful, Abbey. Truly. It makes me think if I want kids one day or not.” She bit her lip, looking to the side. What would her life be if she ever had children? Katie hadn’t ever really thought about it as Travis had ruined any sort of blossoming question leading to that reality. However, now it was a different story with Pine helping her overcome her fears and finally break the shell she had hidden behind for so long. “I keep all of his drawings too and make sure each time he draws, he sends me a picture if I am away.” She showed Katie a file of the drawings. “Well he certainly takes after his mother in regards to talent! This is incredible. I could never draw anything like this.” She saw Abbadon give a sad expression. “Why Natasha, of course you could. We all start from some place, do we not? All you have to do is just pick up a brush and let your imagination go wild. My grandfather always told me that when I was down. I tell my son the same thing and the more he draws or paints, the more his talent blooms. Do not be so hard on yourself, you are young and have plenty of time!” She gave Katie’s hand a firm pat and then released it. “Oh! I’ve had so much fun I’ve forgotten to check the time. It’s nearly noon. You simply must let me have a look at you when you arrive! Thank you so much for this, Natasha. Your heart is true.” She smiled sadly at Katie before getting up and bidding her farewell. The sad expression remained on Abbadon’s face as she made her way back to her room. How she wished she had a life like Katie’s, so mundane and relaxed. She would spend every waking moment with Nikolai painting all that they would ever dream of in the remote hills of France. There, she wouldn’t be a part of this wretched family and would start life new. No more controlling brother, abusive husband who never loved her, and cursed family lineage. 

A feeling in Katie’s gut told her that Abbadon wasn’t as evil as the papers led her out to be. She was true to her word in loving life and the artistic side of it. “I hope you get to see your son soon, Abbey.” She said under her breath before getting up and making her way back to the suite. 

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There wasn’t much to tell Jonathan about Abbadon, except for the fact that she didn’t seem like she even wanted to be a part of whatever organization she was in. While slightly disappointed, Jonathan went with her information and hoped they would snag a lead at the gala. 

Checking his watch, Pine tapped his foot as it was almost 4:15. He knew the building holding the event was only a ten minute drive, but it didn’t help his nerves. For his attire, Jonathan donned a simple black suit without a tie and his button down popped open, exposing a bit of his chest hair. His hair was slicked back and face freshly shaved, leaving no stubble. “Sorry! I know I’m not the best, but I had to remember how to put on makeup!!” Katie called from behind the bathroom door, feeling her cheeks heat up once she got a good look at herself in the mirror. The red mermaid shaped dress was close fit and complimented her curves in all the right ways. Her face was made up perfectly as she carefully contoured and shaped her face. She gave herself a vixen-like look as Abbadon had mentioned earlier, and didn’t turn out hooker like at all. Her brows were plucked and shaped accordingly and lashes full and long. A highlighter made her cheekbones shine and she even placed some on her collarbone. To top it off, she adorned a seductive red shade to her pouty, kissable lips. Her short hair had been straightened to a pin with some of her bangs dusting over her brow. Thankfully, she had brought a pair of gold dangling earrings that were delicate enough just to add to her look. The only thing she hated was the ampleness of her bust and how the dress seemed to make her breasts show off. 

She cracked the door open, seeing that Jonathan had his back facing her. Quietly, she slipped out of the bathroom and turned the light off. “‘Kay.” She muttered and saw Jonathan’s body turn around and come to a complete stop. Any breath that Pine had left in his lungs subsequently left upon seeing her. His lips parted and he struggled to find the words to say as he was floored by how elegant the brunette appeared. Her hair sort of reminded him a little of his past lover Jed Marshall’s, which warmed his heart. “What? Do I look bad?” Her face dropped and she grimaced, panic settling in. “No! N-No. You-” Jonathan covered his mouth, still taking her in and basking in her beautiful form. “You look amazing. Sorry- It’s just… Wow.” He nodded, shyly glancing away and chuckling to himself. “You’re not too bad yourself.” She retorted, her cheeks sporting a similar shade. After a few more awkward moments, Pine cleared his throat and could not stop himself stealing glances. She was truly more beautiful than she had initially led on when they first met. What a steal she was, such a vixen hiding underneath the cutesy shy young woman. “I don’t suggest taking phones, so we will have to find a common meeting ground should either of us get lost.” Jonathan spoke, setting his phone in his suitcase, only taking with him his wallet and fake ID. “G-Good idea.” Katie replied quietly, taking her phone out of the small clutch that came along with the dress. 

“Katie.” Jonathan’s voice was quiet speaking her real name. 

Her green eyes, now standing out more than ever from her makeup, flitted up to his blue gaze. 

“I mean it. You’re stunning.” 

His continued compliment made the brunette feel special, wanted… Something she never thought she would ever feel again. 

She gave him a smile and took his hand as he held it out to her. “I’m glad I have such a beautiful woman on my arm… And hey, those heels made you a bit taller!” He jeered, earning an elbow to the ribs and a snort. “Jerk.” She laughed, making her way out of the suite with Pine hand in hand. 

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Just as Angela had promised, the ride was relatively short and the two were at the gala in no time. Jonathan felt Katie tense up at the sight of all the people inside and cautiously wrapped an arm around her waist. Her response to his gesture was to actually grab onto him and get closer. “It’ll be ok, I won’t let anyone touch you in ways you don’t want them to.” He whispered into her ear, giving her side a squeeze. Katie didn’t want to let go of Pine as she felt safe with him and he smelled incredibly good, even with the hint of smoke. “S-Steven?” She stuttered a bit as she was thinking of saying his actual name. Pine turned to her, raising a brow as he handed the guard their ticket and guided Katie over to their designated table. “I would like to dance with you at some point. If you’re ok with that.” Her lips were graced with a soft smile. “I’d love nothing more.” He admitted truthfully, placing a kiss to her hand. The young woman’s heart raced from his action and she wondered what his lips would feel like against her own… 

“Natasha!!” A familiar voice called. 

The two looked up to see Abbadon scuttle over while in a gorgeous black and gold gown, a man with similar features to the woman following in short. 

“Abbey!” Katie got up, going over to Abbadon and giving her a hug. 

“I was right!! I was absolutely right!! You are a catch! Just look at you! Red is your color, my dear!! Oh you look like the most beautiful rose.” Abbadon clasped her gloved hands together in delight. Her smile faded as she snapped her fingers, “How rude of me! Danny, this is my new friend Natasha. I met her in the lobby today and we had the most wonderful time over coffee. Natasha, this is my older brother Daniel.” She nodded at her with a smile, noticing Jonathan lingering close behind. Her eyes narrowed slightly as this man was handsome yet oddly familiar. Katie held out her hand to Daniel only to have him snatch it and swiftly place a kiss to the back, “The pleasure is mine. My sister has such a wonderful taste in finding the most beautiful of friends.” His amber eyes gleamed with hidden intentions. Katie swallowed hard and her nerves began to act up from the sudden gesture. “It’s an h-honor, Daniel.” She froze up as the strange man continued to hold her hand. “Please, call me Dan-” 

Jonathan cleared his throat, placing a comforting hand around Katie’s waist and smiled at Daniel. “This must be your fiance you told me about!! My, my…” Abbadon winked at Katie and batted her eyelashes at Pine. “Y-Yes! Yes this is my fiance. He proposed last m-month in my hometown.” She lied through her teeth and placed her own hand over Pine’s lacing her fingers with his out of a need of comfort. Daniel did not look the least bit amused at this and huffed, adjusting his tie when he stopped, noticing what his sister saw earlier and scratched his beard. “Sorry to cut things short, but I need to discuss something with my sister. I do hope we cross paths again, Ms. Natasha.” He gave the brunette one last wicked smirk before grabbing Abbadon’s arm and muttering angrily in their native tongue to her. Katie watched as Abbadon was yanked away rather brashly from them. “Are you alright?” Pine gently turned Katie and looked at her in worry. She nodded and gave Pine’s hand a pat, taking a deep breath and calming down. “I-I doubt we’re gonna get anything right now, so we can just enjoy ourselves yeah?” She looked hopeful and much to his dismay, Pine agreed. “Yeah. I’m a bit famished anyways so we might as well get something to eat while we’re ahead.” He relaxed a bit more and sat down at their table. Once they had placed their order, Jonathan looked at the brochure of items that were being auctioned. “She did tell me one thing.” Katie took a drink of water before continuing. “She said half of the paintings are fakes and was very adamant about how even she wouldn’t be so low as to steal a painting. She likes art a lot.” She took another drink. Pine nodded and continued to skim the items, looking for anything that could possibly stand out as suspicious. 

One thing that did stand out however, was the name of the family hosting the gala printed on the back. Pine had seen them before during his time under Roper and just passed them to be another crime involved family. Whatever the case was, they had seen Jonathan as well and now the game would be a bit more tricky. If he was spotted, he would be accused as the man that framed Roper and ruined any chance at bringing Abbadon down. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the faces of the family when he soon spotted them in the very back where Daniel and Abbadon were. The latter of the two actually did not seem to be having a good time and looked rather miserable. Perhaps Katie’s intuition was plausible, but he couldn’t afford to be relying on her heartfelt feelings when the supposed leader of the crimes was right within eyeshot. Making a mental note, Jonathan turned back to face a curious Katie who looked around at the surroundings, awed by some of the structure. Their food was shortly brought to their table and was obviously exquisite but also too small in proportion. This wasn’t some sort of fancy dinner party anyhow. Jonathan took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips before turning his attention to Katie, “Do you still want to dance?” He gave her a soft smile. The brunette gleefully nodded and took his hand as he led them both to the dancefloor. 

Naturally, the song choices were classical and slow paced for those like Katie with more restricted dresses. One of Pine’s large hands rested upon the small of the young woman’s back but looking at her to make certain she was ok with it. She gave him the go ahead and blushed as she placed her hand in his free one. Within minutes, the two became lost in each other's eyes as they danced. They moved gracefully on the floor and seemed to have a fire ignite within them both. Others looked at the pair with a certain degree of envy or admiration at how unified they seemed. Jonathan spun Katie around, pulling her close to his chest just as the song ended and gave a boyish smile. “Not bad. Of course, I assume Cameron forced you to go to military balls.” He winked and caused Katie to giggle and blush. “Yeah, he might have done that a time or two.” She bit her bottom lip, noticing that her hands were still resting upon his chest and his arm wrapped around her frame. Something inside of Pine told him to lean in and kiss the girl as he was ever so curious to how her lips felt. His blue eyes glanced down at her lips then back to her face with her eyes half lidded. Katie’s heart began to beat fast, her breaths shaky with anticipation as she wanted him to do what he was thinking. She wanted him to do it more than anything and only him. What the hell was wrong with her? One minute she hates his guts and now… Now she’s smitten. 

Before Pine can go through with his plan, the music starts up again and his face falls. This song is well known for partner exchanges and apparently Katie knows of it too. “Stay calm and breathe-” He quickly tells her before they are separated and onto the new dance. Much to his luck, Pine’s partner happens to be Abbadon who is not looking very amused. “Hm. I wonder what one of Roper’s men is doing here? It would not possibly be to rat my family out would it?” She spoke lowly, her gaze full of venom. Jonathan grit his teeth and tightened his grip on her waist, “That easy? Tsk, some agent you are.” Her words caused his grip to loosen and suddenly be pulled down so she could whisper in his ear. “It is not me you want, Birch… Or should I say, Pine? Do not play stupid with me, I know exactly who you are and what you’re here for.” She suddenly shoved something into Pine’s blazer. “It is my brother that you want. I never wanted any part of this family business! The only reason I am telling you is because he is keeping my son hostage.” Jonathan’s heartbroken to hear her words and his mind immediately thought of Jed. “He knows that I am faking my fidelity and it is only a matter of time before he kills me. Remember these names, quickly! Belladonna, Poppy, Bloodroot, Daphne and Wisteria. You already know my branch, Wolfsbane. Keep your friend close, Pine. Her heart is true.” Her grip released and tears shimmered in her eyes. “Please. Save my boy.” She whispered before moving onto the next person. 

Abbadon’s words shook him to the core and he had no idea that there were four other branches within the organization. As it turned out, he didn’t need to look for a head start at all as Abbadon was a double agent and just wanted to live a life free of crime and be with her son. Katie was right and it made him feel bad for initially judging her. 

“Mmm, we meet again, little rose.” Daniel’s accented voice sent a chill down Katie’s spine as she felt his fingers dig into her hip. She yelped softly at his touch as she was pulled to his body tightly. Her green eyes were wide with fear as she was forced to dance with Abbadon’s creep of a brother. Alarms were blaring in her mind but her past trauma would not allow her to do anything further but comply with Daniel’s touch. “What happened to the vixen my sister told me about earlier?” He whispered into her ear, his scratchy beard tickling her skin. “It seems that we have a shy little mouse instead. Mm, no matter. You are still very beautiful μικρό ποντίκι.” 

Daniel selfishly shoved the next person in line to dance with Katie. “Please.” She felt her voice fail her as tears burned her eyes, fear taking it’s hold. Daniel mock cooed to the young woman, wiping a tear from her face. “Tears do not suit you, μικρό ποντίκι. At least, not right now they do not. Perhaps they are better suited when I have you screaming, begging for your lover's life as I hold it in the palm of my hand.” He flipped her around, his hand travelling up her body and coping an unconsented feel of her breast. Katie felt lightheaded, her breathing choppy and anxiety clouding her mind. “Mmm yes. Such a beautiful rose you are, my dear Natasha~ If that is your real name of course. I wonder if you are aware of Steven’s true identity? We know why you are here.” His fingers came around her throat and his lips placed a kiss upon her bare shoulder. The young woman let out a silent sob, her body trembling hard and breathing hard. “Shh, shh, shh… Fear not. You are too pretty to waste, μικρό ποντίκι. Oh no, I will not have you be a prostitute. I’ll make you one of my wives.” He nipped at her ear, his hand grabbing a handful of her breast again. 

All Katie could think about was Jonathan and how badly she wanted him to come to her rescue. She was rendered useless by her crippling despair from this man running his hands along her body. She knew how to fight back, but not in a situation like this where old memories surfaced. Katie shut her eyes tightly and whimpered as she felt Daniel press his groin and obvious erection into her backside. “I thought you would have squealed by now. What an obedient mouse. Maybe I don’t have to kill Pine tonight but I will leave you with something to remind you of what happens if you continue your pursuit. He suddenly whipped out a pocket knife and sliced down Katie’s inner forearm, causing her to yelp. Jonathan’s head whipped around at the sound of her yelp over the loud music and he stopped dancing with his now rather upset partner. “Bastard.” He growled as he saw Daniel firmly holding Katie against his body and began to shove through the dancing crowd. 

“Aww looks like our fun here is over for the night.” He put the stem of Belladonna berries he had into his pocket before he could squeeze the juice into the wound he gave Katie. “Rest assured, I am most positive we will meet again my rose.” He chuckled darkly and slithered away into the darkness, leaving Katie stunned and having the absolute worst panic attack she has had in a long time. Everything was spinning and she couldn’t tell what the hell was happening as hands grabbed her. Just as she was about to scream, Jonathan’s familiar scent entered her nostrils and she leaned forward, hugging him tightly and sobbing on his chest. Pine stared down at the hysterical girl that clung to him tightly. He had enough evidence to present to Angela tonight, right now he needed to get Katie the hell out of here. “Hang onto me, sweetheart.” He whispered, hoisting her bridal style into his arms and rushed through the massive ballroom to get out. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Daniel pulled out a remote, pressing the button on it and setting off fire alarms. The family that had confirmed Daniel’s suspicion earlier were suddenly ambushed with the women and children’s vision being cut off with bags. Denizens of the party began to scream in terror as gunfire went off and finally, an explosion that left the men of the family dead. Abbadon glared hatefully at her brother, makeup running down her face from tears and water from the emergency sprinklers. 

Outside, Jonathan turned on his heel as he heard the awful sound of the explosion followed by horrified and gut wrenching screams. There was nothing more he could do at that point but get back to the hotel, check them out and find somewhere else to stay. It was too dangerous to be in the same vicinity as Daniel. “Fuck this-” Pine muttered and set Katie down gently, flagging a car down before pulling his gun out and threatening the driver to get out. He did not have time to continue risking his and Katie’s lives and hijacked the car. With the young woman resting in the back as she had passed out, Jonathan sped back to the Metropol as fast as the car would let him. In sheer dumb luck, he had not caught any officers attention and parked the car sloppily in the parking lot. “Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” He whispered to a stirring Katie who made panicked noises. Once she realized who it was, her arms wrapped around his neck and she buried her face into his blazer. “We’re leaving here tonight.” He muttered as he entered the lobby, rushing to get to the elevator. A few people looked up from their activities and began to murmur at what could be going on. A sense of unease laced into Pine’s gut as he finally got into the elevator and anxiously waited for their floor. It felt like forever until he finally reached the room. “Jonathan-” Katie whimpered as he set her down, tears coming back and broken sobs wracking her body. The dark blonde haired man furiously packed their belongings as best as he could and turned back to the sobbing woman. His heart sank at how scared she was and how defenseless she appeared. “Kate..” He spoke her other nickname softly and walked over to her, hugging her tightly, tears of his own burning beneath his eyelids. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise. We’re getting out of here right now but I need you to stand up and walk, can you do that?” He released her but kept his hands on her cold arms, gently rubbing them up and down. Pine removed his blazer and noticed the cut on her arm that Daniel had given her. He would have to deal with that later as he helped Katie put his blazer on her to give her some warmth. He took her heels off, shoving them into her bag and helped her stand. “I promise you, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Without thinking, Jonathan pulled her forward and kissed the top of her head before giving a once over to make sure he grabbed everything. 

The pair tried to look inconspicuous while rushing out of their suite and making a detour out of the back. Too many people would be witness to seeing them rush out like that and it would only add to their woes. Finally, they reached the car Jonathan had stolen and hastily packed their belongings. With a quick hot wiring, Jonathan stepped on the gas and peeled out of the parking lot with the tires squealing. A sense of relative safeness came over them as they sped off into the night in search of a place to rest. Unfortunately, it seemed their luck ran short and would have to spend the night in the car. Jonathan’s eyes peeled out for a hidden area he could park and eventually spotted a patch of thick woods as their temporary haven for the night. “We’ll give Angela a call tomorrow and ask what to do next as I frankly don’t have a fucking clue. What matters to me right now is your safety.” Jonathan pushed Katie’s bangs out of her eyes and gave her a sympathetic expression. She nodded and proceeded to climb into the back with some difficulty due to her dress but managed. “J-Jonathan?” She spoke quietly. Pine turned his gaze to her, nodding up as a signal he heard. “Can you hold me? Like you did this morning?” her voice was shaky again as she sought comfort. Jonathan nodded and turned the car off before climbing into the back. They both knew it was a tight squeeze, but didn’t care at the moment. Katie found herself laying on Jonathan’s chest instead and she closed her eyes, nuzzling against him. “I swear to you, I will never let anything like that happen to you again. We’re in this together now and I’m not about to break my promise.” Jonathan said before wrapping his arms around the young woman and letting sleep take him.

Title: Mightier Than the Sword (Chapter Four)

Fandom: Witcher

Summary: A month after the events of “Rare Species,” Geralt slinks his way into an inn and is faced with the question of how an emotionless man apologies. (TV!canon with some details drawn from the books and Wild Hunt.)

Pairing: Slow burn Geralt and Jaskier

Word Count (This Chapter): 2,486

Where to read it: Below or on AO3

“See?” Jaskier said. “This is why I must... revise our adventures, so to speak. No one would ever believe me if I told them the truth.”

He was gesturing to the two men kneeling in a patch of wet leaves, both heads bent to expose their necks, a common act of submission in these parts of Temeria. The elder of the two snuck out a hand to wrap around the wrist of his companion.

“Please don’t hurt us, Master Witcher,” he said, no longer boasting the confident tone of a man who thought himself king of the wood. “Me and my son were just lookin’ for some supper. That’s it. I swear it to you. We didn’t mean to interrupt you an’ your... ah...”

Jaskier leaned close, his shirt just a hair’s breadth from Geralt’s armor. “Ohhh yes, please finish that sentence. What do you think I am? I’m not his ‘friend’ as I fear we’ve already butted heads like rams over that one. Not his ‘bard’ either as I’m far more than just some tawdry performer. Your ‘companion,’ perhaps? Eh, makes me sound like some sort of escort.”

With a sigh Geralt sheathed his sword, watching the men visibly relax. Rather funny that they thought this made him less dangerous. “He’s my curse.”

“Oh! Curse? Thanks. Thanks ever so much for that. I’ll just toss ‘He’s my curse’ next to ‘Filling-less pie.’ In fact, I should start a list. The many insults of Geralt of Rivia. Provide enough of them and I might just get a song out of it. Go on then. Anything else to add? My quill awaits.”

Geralt didn’t consider himself particularly skilled at reading people. Not unless he sought the signs of murder and betrayal. Yet in that moment he would have bet Roach that Jaskier was... teasing him. Just something about the hands on his hips and the hint of a smile. He knew now that Jaskier went quiet when he was hurt, as Geralt had witnessed just moments before. This performance didn’t compare to the tiny ‘How?’ he’d spoken, head dipped down towards his knees.

So Geralt attempted... something. Another apology maybe.

“I’m done for now,” he said, trying for the tone that he sometimes heard long-suffering wives using to discuss their husbands. Some of it must have gotten through because Jaskier rolled his eyes heavenward, ‘for now’ muttered on the tip of his tongue.

Meanwhile, the man had gathered courage enough to lift his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You... won’t be attackin’ me an’ my boy?”

No, of course they wouldn’t. Over the remains of yesterday’s breakfast Jaskier, never one to give up an opportunity for storytelling, explained that they’d initially feared them. His dear witcher only drew his sword as a precaution, not a warning, and there had never been a reason to kneel like that, so sorry about your trousers. Funny though it was. Now then, what brings you two this far out for a bit of dinner?

“Game’s scarce nowadays,” Yoven said, tearing into the meat of a small bird. He’d likewise introduced his son, Lin, a quiet boy more interested in his boots than the conversation. He ate his own fill when it was handed to him though and kept one shoulder pressed to his father’s at all times. “Need to keep headin’ deeper. Every fortnight it seems. Don’t know what we’re gonna do when the snows hit.”

Geralt felt the same. He’d wanted something substantial for the two of them, especially with winter on the horizon, but he’d had to settle for those warblers and the occasional grub. Jaskier had expressed his displeasure—quite vocally—at Geralt eating whatever he came across in the soil, but what was taste to a witcher? It was an easy source of protein they couldn’t afford to pass up, not now that the nights were growing longer and the air crisper with each passing breath. Soon all but the monsters would be in hibernation and Geralt didn’t think Jaskier could stomach a Nekker heart if he wasn’t willing to eat a measly worm.

It was a problem he hadn’t thought about when Jaskier had first joined him, not when the weather was kind and the chance of him staying past the next town nothing but a well-hidden fantasy. Now, with Fall nearing its end and this unspoken agreement between them, questions of a practical nature had begun to surface. How would he feed them? Would Jaskier survive the cold? Geralt tried to remember everything he’d learned about human physiology and how it compared to a witcher’s. How long could Jaskier go without fresh water? Surely not the two weeks Geralt could manage. Some night when food was once again scarce and he was weary from battle, would he remember that risom berries were fatal to everyone else, or would Geralt mistakenly offer him a handful of poison? How long could a human travel before exhaustion took hold? If he were injured what salves were safe to use? Would Jaskier even tell him these things, or would he insist it was all fine up until he collapsed? It hadn’t been terribly long since that day at the swamp, but with each passing moment Geralt grew more and more consumed by the same realization: humans were not meant to walk the Path.

Yet here Jaskier sat, creating a mirror to Lin and Yoven. The only difference was the absence of touch and Geralt suddenly had the strong urge to press their shoulders together, completing the picture.

If he were humble, Geralt would lead them to the next prosperous settlement and ask Jaskier to sing. Drum up some of the coin he could clearly earn and share it with him, securing their survival.

If he was smart he’d lead them both to Kaer Morhen for the winter, where food and protection were plenty and he needn’t fear a sudden shift in their host’s hospitality. However, the thought of bringing Jaskier to a witcher’s fortress...

If he were both, Geralt would simply leave the bard behind.

All these thoughts passed through him in a moment, following the tail of Jaskier’s expression as he watched Yoven devour cold, congealing meat. A mere second to assess the situation as he would a battle. Then the conversation continued.

Yoven explained that they were from another small town just three miles from here, one of Temeria’s many. Indistinguishable unless you considered that they specialized in building and exporting wagons as opposed to fish, herbs, nets, weapons, boots--whatever else one might need to continue with a war. Or life. It amounted to much the same. Does your town have a name? Jaskier asked. Not unless you count the profanity with which most referred to it. Are you and your witcher heading somewhere in particular? Not really. Wherever we’re needed, and Jaskier ended his comment with a little laugh. As if the concept of anyone needing him was a joke in and of itself.

Geralt, meanwhile, was watching the boy.

“You’ve something to say,” he announced, startling all three. Indeed, it was an easy enough conclusion, even without Lin’s guilty look. Geralt may not have had Jaskier’s talent for small talk, but he could always tell when someone held something back. His livelihood depended on it.

“Well? You can speak freely. We don’t bite,” and Geralt bared his teeth, ignoring the glare Jaskier shot at him.

“We really don’t,” he insisted.

It was Yoven who opened his mouth though. He must have been at least fifty years old, judging by the white in his beard. A substantial age for a human and, like the confident tone they’d first heard at his approach, Yoven was clearly used to commanding respect among his peers. He was halfway through insisting that no, his boy just had that air about him, when Lin finally looked up from his boots with,

“They can help.”

Three words in a mouse’s voice, but ones Geralt knew well. He leaned forward. Help meant trouble. Trouble meant coin. And coin meant he could give Jaskier something other than the soft bones of a bird to eat.

Yoven scowled. “There’s nothin’ to help with.”

“There is! Talden said—”

“Talden? ‘Don’t know how that mug got broke’ Talden? ‘I swear them chickens just ran off’ Talden? That Talden? You’d believe your own arse grew outta your nose if Talden told you so.”

“Lovely image,” Jaskier murmured.

Hmm. Perhaps a fool’s errand then. Or a case of a child crying werewolf. It wouldn’t be the first time some mischievous youngster had been scoffed at when they reported a sighting, only for folk to find them torn to pieces the next morn’, their lying punished too harshly. Only sure way to know was to get details, so Geralt eased himself off the log and knelt before Lin. No more attempts to frighten. Rather, he pulled in his shoulders to appear smaller than he was, kept his hands where Lin could see them, and allowed white hair to partially curtain his face, hiding a bit of the sallow skin and inhuman eyes. It wasn’t much, but Geralt had learned over the decades that even the smallest bit might help. Lives had been lost and saved on far less.

It was one of the reasons why he didn’t believe in destiny. Or, if she were real, why she must also be cruel. Only someone with ice in their heart would wager so much on whether another thought him decent to look upon.

Or simply thought of him at all.

“Talden,” Geralt said, trying to smooth out the rough edge in his voice. He didn’t succeed. “This a friend of yours?”

Lin nodded.

“He saw something? Something that scared him?”

“Heard it,” Lin said, snaking out a hand to grab hold of his father’s shirt. The older man allowed it with a sigh, gesturing for him to go on. It was only then that Geralt realized the child was far younger than he’d first assumed. Almost too young to be out in these woods. Especially if something stalked them.

Lin took a swallow of the water Jaskier offered before going on. “He heard somethin', Master Witcher. Just a few nights back. See, Laren’s our neighbor. Talden’s neighbor too. We all live close, so we all heard when she came screamin’ in the morn about her sister. She was gone. Vanished during the night. Old Roger said she’d run off with a boy from the town over, but Laren says there was no boy. No runnin’ off then either. And Talden told me he heard things a few hours before dawn. Monster things,” and he went back to chugging the water, whispering that last bit.

Geralt tilted his head. “Did Talden say what kind of ‘monster things’? What sounds precisely?”

“No, Master Witcher sir. I didn’t wanna know. Plugged my ears and kicked his shin for scarin’ me.”

Jaskier snorted. "A well landed blow.”

“It’s as I said.” Yoven picked up the thread. “I didn’ want my boy botherin’ you with this because there’s no ‘this’ to be bothered with. Laren and Sage moved here not a year ago. Real secretive girls. Kept to themselves and expected the rest of us to do the same. Old Roger—one of the elders, y’see. I’m set to take his place in a few years—tried to welcome them, but found both to be a prickly pair. Always goin’ off on their own. Not sayin’ where they went or when they’d return. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sage did have a little tryst going, sneakin’ away if her sis didn’t approve. They’re both young enough for such foolishness. But then comes Talden makin’ wild claims about hearin’ monsters during the night, only after the lass was revealed to be missing, mind. He was after attention, Master Witcher. Nothin’ more.”

But Lin shook his head. “Talden wouldn’t lie.” He withered under his father’s look. “He wouldn’t lie about that. He knows how monsters scare me. I, um... apologized after. For kickin’ him.”

Geralt stood. “And Talden didn’t change his story after your apology?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Anyone look for the woman? Tracks? Speak to the folk in the town over? Surely they’d notice if one of their young men had gone missing around the same time.”

Yoven sucked the last of the marrow from his bird and shrugged. “We’re carpenters, not trackers. If we were I might have better luck findin’ meat for us both. As for the town,” Yoven stuck out a finger and proceeded to swing it in an arc. “Which one? We’ve got any number of small towns in these parts, some more earning of the name than others. But it would take days to travel and talk to ‘em all. No one does that for a woman not wantin’ to be found.”

Geralt cursed.

All of little help then. Which was he to believe, the logic of flighty women and trickster boys, or the witcher's experience that told him sometimes folk really did disappear from their beds? For any other witcher the answer was easy. One look at Yoven's clothes and Lin’s greedy bites told the story of poverty. Even if Geralt returned victorious with a beast’s head in his hands, the chances of receiving any substantial reward were slim. Perhaps enough for one meal, maybe two, but was that worth the trouble it would take to receive them?

Of course, there were benefits to being an abnormal witcher. He needn’t decide things on his own, for one.

“Well?” Geralt said. Jaskier blinked stupidly up at him.

“Huh?”

“Should we look into it?”

“...You’re asking me?”

Yes. He was. Geralt felt the burn on his hand and the bruises in his chest. Day-old words flit across his mind like birds. “I just want your opinion.”

The smile was instantaneous. Blinding too. Jaskier went so far as to slap his knee, bursting into joyous laughter when Geralt rolled his eyes. He had his fun for a moment, then grew somber. A single nod and Geralt was already moving to collect his things.

“Yes. We should at least look into it. I’d never forgive myself if we left some poor maiden in peril. Plus, think of what a story it will make! A tale of intrigue and mystery, clandestine meetings and sibling love. That’s grown quite popular, you know.”

“Then pack up your things, Bard. It will be night soon.”

“Poet, Geralt. Poet.” But Jaskier dutifully bent to collect his papers, pressing each carefully between the pages of his notebook or rolling them up with string. Geralt made sure that none had escaped his notice, then took up Roach’s reins. She stamped a few times, impatient to be off.

Yoven was staring, mouth agape so that the rot on his back teeth showed. “You’re coming?”

“We’re coming,” Geralt confirmed and started off, now three sets of footsteps following behind him.

He only listened for the one.

2. Dear _______, - Dave/Rose Newspaper Columnist AU

I finally finished the second fic for my challenge! The prompt was “newspaper advice columnists who passive-aggressively diss one another in their advice au,” found in this AU list. Also this thing is a small monster that I will probably cross-post to AO3 after... a bit of editing and coding.

(Also keep an eye out I have a second fic to post tonight.)

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

Recently, my boyfriend has been acting strangely. He keeps asking about my schedule and when I'll be home. At first I assumed he was just asking so that he could work on planning dates, but whenever I ask him about his schedule, he gets very cagey and won't tell me exactly what he's doing. If I ever demand what he is doing, he tells me he is hanging out with "friends."

Is he cheating on me, or am I just reading into things? I want to confront him, but I don't want to ruin the relationship over something silly...

Sincerely, Am I Just Paranoid?

Dear Mx. Paranoid?

There are one of three options here.

The first is, naturally, the most boring. He is cheating on you. His so-called "friends" are in fact a short-hand for his elicit lover.

For your sake, I hope this is not the case, though I am sure it would be gratifying to know that your suspicions were at least somewhat justified. I would recommend actually talking to some of his friends in order to confirm the story that he is telling you. Is he truly hanging out with them, or is he just using them as a convenient excuse to ditch you?

A few caveats. First, even if his friends back up his story, they may be lying. You can test this by asking a few of them what they were up to and seeing if their stories match. If possible, I would recommend talking to some of their significant others, who will more likely be sympathetic to your cause.

If you do not know enough of his friends in order to ask them what they were up to on June 6th at 11:00 PM, consider that you may not be deep enough into this relationship to be too concerned about ruining it. Cut your losses and run. Even if he is not cheating on you, I cannot think of much good that will come from having a boyfriend who, early in the relationship, demands to know where you will be without properly reciprocating.

Naturally, if you do discover that your man is cheating on him, there is only one possible solution. You must sacrifice his body to Zathog the Great Old One. If he is pleased with your sacrifice, then he may grant you the ability to travel through both time and space, which is undeniably a much better thing to be in possession of than a cheating boyfriend.

Ah! But we must not overlook the other possibilities. You may also be in a situation pulled straight from a "Romantic Comedy," as the lay people refer to them, where you are led to believe your beau is cheating on you, when in truth, he is attempting to set up a beautiful surprise for you that only shows how much he loves you. Perhaps there is even a big diamond ring in your future?

Ah, but Miss Therapist, you may proclaim. However will I know whether or not I have found myself within the confines of a "Romantic Comedy"? The answer is simple. Look around you, at the people you surround yourself with. Do you have a gay best friend who gladly accepts the lofty title of "sassy"? Do you have a well-meaning girl friend (who you, mistakenly, call a "girlfriend" despite the fact that the two of you are straight) who is hapless, cute (but not as cute as you), and pursuing her own relationship off to the periphery of your existence? Are there any older women in your life who give you expressions that imply they have seen it all?

If you answered yes to any of the above questions, then congratulations! You are most likely a fictional character within a film that will be affectionately dubbed a "Chick Flick." On the bright side, you are undoubtedly being played by an attractive celebrity, so that is one important consolation prize to the unfortunate fact that you are not actually real.

You can also check this with his friends, of course.

The final, and frankly, most likely option is that he is planning his own ritualistic sacrifice to Zathog. He is most likely planning to sacrifice you. Get the jump on him. Forgo love and earthly attachments and become the space-and-time travelling god you were always destined to be.

I hope this helps.

Sincerely, The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

I'm trying to think of what I should get my girlfriend for our two-year anniversary. She's honestly the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I want to make it special for her. Any ideas?

-- Two Years of Devotion

dear 2y devotion

okay my dude my buddy my pal

listen to this thing that you are asking me. really listen to it. take the page you are reading right now and hold it up to your ear all gentle like and let it whisper into your ear.

"i want to do something special" cool thats great thats a general thing that everybody who is not a douche wants to do for their significant other but think about this for a sec.

you went to an advice column for this shit. and dont get me wrong my advice column is unequivocally the best advice column cause unlike some columnists im not gonna suggest you throw your girlfriend to sh'blugh the tentacle horror from beyond the veil but

you gave me nothing to go on man

how do i make that special

like give me some details to go off of

you love this girl right tell me something about her

or i guess since its too late to tell me about her because this is a delayed conversation that gets publicly written and published in a magazine think about the kind of shit that she likes

like you probably already know the kind of shit that she likes if youre really as into her as you say

does your girl like flowers? get her some flowers does your girl like horses? get her a horse does your girl like sports? get her a sport

and like that goes for activities too if youve decided to date an adrenaline junkie take her to an amusement park or go skydiving or something

or even just crack open a bottle of fancy wine or whatever

shit is special if you make it special dude and if i tell you exactly what to do that ruins the whole idea of it being special

anyway good luck hope you dont bomb it

-- dj strider

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

I'm a mother of a beautiful girl who is currently in the second grade. She constantly comes home complaining of a boy bothering her in class. I have gone to her teacher to try and figure out what we can do to make her feel more comfortable at school, but the teacher simply said that the boy probably had a crush and told me that this was a normal peer interaction among children their age.

While I understand that many children do not know how to properly express their emotions or their feelings, I can't help but feel suspicious of this determination. My daughter has said that this boy has pulled her hair and pushed her down on the playground. I don't care what the teacher says - that is NOT the behavior of somebody with a crush.

Sincerely, Concerned Mother

Dear Miss Concerned,

You have every right to be concerned. However, the teacher is right. That boy almost certainly does have a crush.

You see, Miss Concerned, in all my years of giving advice and viewing the world from my lofty place above it, I have come to the conclusion that a man in love becomes the stupidist and most brute-ish thing imaginable. This starts from a very young age, and though the man may be able to temper his natural instincts upon growing older and even produce the occasional bouquet of flowers, this is natural. Why, even at my decidedly unspecified age, I sometimes encounter men who show their undying affection for me by "vagueing" me, as I understand is the modern parlance, in their own personal advice columns.

(By the by, Mr. Strider, everybody knows that my column has more regular readers than yours does.)

That said, this behavior is unacceptable. Were this a fully grown man, of course, I would say that you should toss him to the Old One of your choice as an offering of appeasement for not destroying our planet eons ago, but this is still just a second grade boy. Foolish and brutish as he may be, I will never condone child sacrifice. Instead, focus on the teacher.

Tell her that you don't care if this boy has a crush - it is unacceptable that your daughter is being made to feel unsafe and unhappy in a place of learning, which should be open to her. Children do not learn or grow well in environments they are uncomfortable in. If this boy is making her uncomfortable then, whatever his reasons for doing that may be, he needs to be talked to and he needs to be stopped. That is the long and short of it. If the teacher seems unwilling to help, take it to the principal. If the principal is equally reluctant, then pitch a fit and give some of your fellow parents a reason to outrage. Make the local news. Cause a national movement for little boys to stop pulling little girl's hair in an attempt to flirt. Eventually, the teacher will have to give in. Or at the very least, pressure from social media will get her fired for showing such painful neglect at her job.

Once that happens, naturally, you may sacrifice her to the Old One of your choosing.

I hope that these words bring you comfort and wisdom. You sound like you are a good and caring mother.

-- The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

I have a crush on a guy, but I don't know how to get his attention. What can I do to get him to notice me?

-- Crushing in California

dear crushinator

well first off let me tell you what NOT to do

the thing that you definitely dont do is call this guy out for vagueing you on your very public advice column especially if youre going to pretend that youre a cool dark mistress of the night who ritually sacrifices people to the tentacled gods of your nightmares i mean okay i guess i should specify that you will definitely get noticed but not in the way that you want despite that saying there is such a thing as bad attention especially when youre attempting to woo a guy

anyways i guess it really depends on the kind of guy youre looking at what do you know about this dude is he into video games?? go take a picture of yourself with a controller in your mouth and accidentally send it to him then hell know for sure that youre a gamer gurl and hell ask to play some fresh games with you and then you have an in (make sure youre actually okay at video games though maybe)

is he into sports??? go dress yourself as a ball

or wear a jersey with his favorite team on it or something

just get a conversation started honestly or if youre already in the conversation zone you can start dropping mad innuendos left and right maybe put on some nice clothes or bat your eyelashes a bit you know just do something special

and again dont call him out on "vagueing" you or hell just continue to talk smack about you to his huge avid fanbase and then youll just be sad and embarrassed

hope that helps

-- dj strider

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

I'm a high school student and there's a few people who keep bothering me on social media. They aren't bullying me or anything, but they keep mentioning me in posts and responding to all of my statuses. It's getting kind of annoying. What should I do?

Sincerely, I just want some peace and quiet on my FB Feed!

Dear FB Feeder,

Truly, now you understand the trials and tribulations that I myself face on a near daily basis. I do not know you or your body of work, but clearly within the realm of your school, you must be somewhat famous.

Now, I do not know the gender or sexual orientation of these bothering people you mention, but I would hazard a guess that at least one or two of them are interested in pursuing you romantically, but due to having the emotional maturity of a teenager, they do not know how to pursue you in a way that is not hugely annoying.

I am sure you would like to hear that this behavior will naturally fade over time as said teenagers grow and mature into proper young adults, but I am saddened to inform you that often this is not the case. Why, one can even become a semi-professional advice columnist and yet still resort to calling out their crushes in a public space. Therefore, you will need to take some actions in order to ease your own annoyance at the situation.

The easiest option would, of course, be to block them, but I do not claim to be an expert on the delicate social balance of your high school. Perhaps blocking these individuals would be a social faux pas from which you could never recover. In that case, many websites (and I suspect this mysterious "FB" is among them) have a way to block people from showing up on your feed. This may not solve the problem, but may fix some of the annoyance.

You could also try talking to them. Tell them that their constant attention is annoying and unflattering. If they are trying to impress you, then they will back off. If they are trying to get to you, then they are bullying you, and you can report them to the adult of your choice.

Naturally there is always the option of throwing them to the Beasts Below, who quite enjoy annoying human souls.

I hope this helps.

-- The Tentacled Therapist

Dear Disc Jockey Strider,

I have a quandary. You see, there is a particular rival of me who seems to, as of late, decided to take it upon himself to mention me in nearly every single public answer he grants to his purported legion of devoted fans. I am beginning to think that perhaps there is something more to his constant mentions of me. Is this a cry for help? Could it be that the adviser, in this case, should become the advisee?

Sincerely, An Anonymous, but Concerned, Reader

dear anonymous tentacle therapist,

yeah haha nice try

--- dj strider

dear tentacle mistress of the night,

hey so i have this problem and that problem is primarily the fact that theres this creepy advice columnist whos constantly up in my grill and i think shes gotta be in love with me

i mean i also have a problem in that im just drowning in so many fans that i cant barely see straight but thats one hundred percent beside the point

whats my plan of action here do i let her down gently or what

sincerely, a super cool dude with a better advice column than this

Dear Your Advice Column Is Not Better,

It certainly sounds like you have quite the conundrum but I must wonder. Is it her that is in love with you? Or might you be projecting somewhat? After all, it seems to me that you might have been the one who started it. If her responses, as you claim, indicate that she is clearly in love with you, then I am afraid that by your same logic you must simply be head over heels.

In that case, I would not recommend letting her down gently. Not because of her feelings - oh no. I doubt that she has feelings one way or the other about whether or not you actually get the guts to ask her out. No, I would highly recommend that you not let her down gently because, based on what I have inferred from you in this very anonymous and mysterious question, I worry for the implications on your psyche should you make the decision to try and turn this girl down before you have ever confessed your feelings.

No, my professional recommendation is that you suck it up and you go to her and you ask her out. She will likely turn you down, of course. I understand that she has high standards. But if you continue to keep your feelings pent up, it will only hurt you and those around you. Besides, if you do not give it a shot, then you will never know what could come from it. You never know. You might just be surprised by what she says, if you go about it the right way.

Also, I do know for a fact that you have her number.

Your move, Strider.

-- The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

I was wondering, what's your advice for what to do on a first date? I just met this really pretty girl and we've been flirting a lot, and she agreed to go out with me. But now I have to actually think of a good date idea! What should I do?

Also, since it is a first date, I don't know THAT much about her, since I know that's usually what you tell people who come to you for relationship advice. I mean, that's what the first date is for, right?

Sincerely, Nervous First Timer

dear nervous,

okay yeah for once you got a situation in which im not gonna come over and sit your ass down about actually knowing your girlfriends interests because hey news flash shes not your girlfriend

yet

dont worry my man i will come up with a plan to fully woo this girl and you will then have a girlfriend and then maybe even a wife

just send me a wedding invite okay

actually this goes for everyone if i ever land you a wife or a husband or a gender non specific spouse send me a fuckin wedding invite i probably wont go but i might and i give you permission to advertise to all of your friends and family that you might have a minor local celebrity attending your big special day

but yeah first dates

first off you probably want to do something with a specific end time or else youre gonna end up trapped in a moment of like is it time to end this? do i wanna be the one who has to say i have to go? if nothing else give yourself an excuse to leave at a specific time like you gotta meet a friend or catch a bus

the other thing is that you gotta make sure you leave time to actually you know. talk.

i know seeing a movie seems really tempting and yeah movie dates can be fun but consider what youre actually doing on that date

youre staring at a screen while sitting next to somebody who is a borderline stranger and maybe enjoying a baller flick but are you really advancing that relationship at all?

nah

so yeah generally something like a lunch or a dinner can be pretty good but it can be tricky and awkward if you dont know what youre gonna talk about like what if you start talking and realize you got nothing in common that you actually care about

so thats either good for a second date or if youre like an awesome conversationalist who is always confident that youre able to keep a conversation going no matter who youre talking to

so its usually a good idea to do something thats a little more focused

if you do know anything about her then you can bring her to an event you know she might like

maybe a museum or something? aquarium? zoo? i guess a sport game could work but as i understand it there are drones that come around and demand that you kiss for the crowd so maybe thats not the best idea

anyways just make sure its something for you guys to talk about other than your own awkward burgeoning romance

anyways in the end the important thing is just be yourself dude

i can say from recent personal experience that being yourself works wonders and if it doesnt work wonders then that probably means that the relationship wasnt gonna work well anyways

just make sure you dont dump all your biggest darkest secrets on the first date though or else you dont give your nosy date anything to come back for the next time

but actually that maybe only works if your date is trying to pretend she is a therapist

anyways good luck dude hopefully that gave you some good ideas

-- dj strider

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

I'm in a kind of new relationship and it is going great! This guy is great and I could really see it going places. We've been going steady for about a month and a half now, but he's seemed really hesitant about telling other people about us. He won't list himself as being in a relationship on social media, and though some of our mutual friends obviously know, I don't know how vocal he's been about it with the other people in his life.

Now, we are gay, but he's also really openly gay to everybody that he knows, so I don't think that's a big part of it. Everybody knows he likes guys, so the fact that he's dating me shouldn't be that big of a deal. So what's going on? Does he just really value his privacy or is he planning to dump me soon? What signs should I be looking out for. (I need to know when it is appropriate to plan my tentacled sacrifice after all. :P)

Sincerely, Are We Dating Or What?

Dear Schrodinger's Boyfriend,

I'm afraid that going public with a relationship is always a tricky thing, regardless of whether or not the status of your sexuality is broadcast to the entire world. There are many, many reasons that your boyfriend may not want to go public with you. I will, of course, get the obvious out of the way. He may be possessed by one of the Old Ones, in which case, they are notoriously shy about their relationships. They have lived for millenia, so they feel no reason to rush through things. Be patient with them, and it will pay off in a major way.

Now, there is the (admittedly slim) chance that your beau is but a normal human man, with all of the normal lovable foibles of human men. If this is the case, I can see a few options.

The first is the one that I think you are the most scared of - he's Just Not That Into You. Either he is cheating on you (or perhaps you are the one he is cheating with?) or he has plans to end the relationship soon. I cannot predict which of these it is, but if you have mutual friends who know, it may not be a bad idea to ask one of them for their input on the situation. Naturally, if either of these is the case, offer his body up for possession by an Old One. You will have the same problem, but rest assured that the Old One will be faithful and loyal to you up until the point it decides to use your flesh organs as part of an important summoning ritual.

The second option is simply that he is shy or cautious. Maybe, despite being openly gay, he is still somewhat embarrassed by a relationship. Perhaps he has relatives who would harass you if they knew who you were.

Or perhaps he has been burned by rushing into a public relationship in the past.

Perhaps he was, once upon a time, with another boy who he went public with too soon. Perhaps the pressure of the relationship made him feel like he had to perform that relationship to an extent that felt unnatural to him. Perhaps he didn't like how it felt, having something so new, personal, and delicate being handed out to the world at large.

I don't know the type of people who might like to look at your boyfriend's life, but it is also entirely possible that he would not want them to know of any relationship of his, simply because they will find a way to butt their noses in and ruin it. An overbearing mother, perhaps? Nosy friends? A needy ex, who will proceed to harass you as soon as your name is out there as being his "Facebook Official" beau.

Needless to say, there are many reasons that he could want to refrain from making your relationship public that actually have very little to do with your relationship. In fact, it could even be a sign that he values your relationship. He values what you have so much that he doesn't want to share what you have with the rest of the world and thus risk losing it.

Though, of course, he could be cheating. It is possible that I am injecting some of my own thought processes too heavily into this answer. I do not truly know your boyfriend, so I cannot say for sure what his thoughts are. The best thing I can really advise you do is... ask.

Good luck.

-- The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

I think that two of my friends have hooked up, but I'm not sure. They used to be really annoying to each other, and our other friends and I always joked that they were flirting, but I at least never actually meant it. But now they don't bother each other as much and they're just kind of... calm together. And there are a lot of times that the two of them are pretty obviously missing from group get togethers.

So... were they actually flirting?? Are they dating now?? What if they break up? That will just make them even more annoying!

Sincerely, Kind of Grossed Out

dear kind of

yeah your friends are definitely banging now and yeah they probably were always actually flirting but they might not have been aware of it

see sometimes if you are an asshole you dont know how to express affection apart from acting like an extra asshole to the people that you like and usually this is a self correcting feature since like youll drive away all of the people you like so they dont have to put your extra asshole-ness the real kicker comes when you end up crushing on somebody who can actually match your punches and act like an equally big asshole in return

its a very delicate dance honestly and you should just be glad that you got to view it in its natural habitat if only youd caught it on camera you could have sold that shit to discovery channel and got richard attenborough to dub over it with his cool nature documentary voice and here we see the assholes in their elaborate mating ritual though it may look like a fight to outsiders they are actually both getting really turned on by it and are gonna fuck vigorously in a month or two

anyways yeah its gonna suck if they break up but honestly what break up doesnt suck

i dont think the way that the flirting process happens really dictates how much a break up process is going to suck and from personal experience probably theyd be less annoying broken up than theyd be together since theyd just avoid each other which is a whole other kinda stress but yeah

i guess what im trying to say is yes your friends are definitely boning down embrace it and congratulate them or something also make sure that none of them are in charge of any advice columns

-- dj strider

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

Hello, I Am A Long Time Reader, First Time Writer

I Was Simply Wondering How One Would Hypothetically Go About Wooing An Advice Columnist That They Thought Was Very Clever And Humorous

This Is A Hypothetical Scenario Of Course I Was Just Wondering

Sincerely, A Fan

Dear Cooling Unit,

Honestly, I stared at this letter for quite a while, wondering how to answer it. I would have guessed that this was written by DJ Strider, in fact, if I didn't know for a fact that he would never put enough effort into writing something to press the shift button that often.

Regardless, I am sure that now is about the point where I am supposed to tell you how to woo me. This is where you expect me to say that the worst way to woo me is to slyly reference me in your public column for the whole world to see. Honestly, that is a technique that I would not have expected to work on paper, but it must have its merits.

At any rate, I suspect that technique would not work on most advice columnists, so I suppose I will simply continue under the assumption that this is the Very General And Hypothetical Advice that you assured me you were asking for.

My simple advice is thus: treat wooing them like you would any other person. If you do not know them in real life or do not have an easy way to contact them other than through their advice column, then pursuing a relationship is inadvisable. They will treat you as yet another fan, and I can say from personal experience that I am not terribly interested in dating fans.

"Fans," you see, tend to put you up on a pedestal. They take a look at you and think that you have hung the moon, which means that the only way for their opinion of you to go is down. Having a healthy, normal outlook on your strengths and weaknesses as a partner is down-grading their image of you, which means that no matter what, you will become a disappointment to them. The moment you mess up in front of somebody who idolizes you, it will feel like a betrayal to them, because you don't match the perfect image they have built in their head.

No, I would be far more interested in pursuing somebody who is my equal, through and through, and I suspect the same is true of most other hypothetical advice columnists. If you do find one who is excited by the fact you are a fan, they are undoubtedly an egotistical narcissist who wants to hear about how they hung the moon. While I do not deny that hearing of my moon-hanging exploits is quite the enjoyable experience for me, it is not a solid foundation for a relationship. If you find such a columnist who wants to build a relationship on that, might I recommend putting a sample of their blood into a summoning circle to bring about a personal curse on their house and home?

At any rate, any advice that is seeking out this particular advice columnist's interest will, sadly, be too little too late. Against all odds, I happen to be taken with somebody else.

-- The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

I kind of pissed my girlfriend off. How do I get back on her good side?

Sincerely, In the Dog House

dear i hope thats not a petplay reference holy shit,

okay see this is why people need to provide me more details about their problems like look at me i write long and heartfelt messages to all of you

like i really inject my soul into these answers make sure theyre multi paragraph endeavors and what do you give me?

"oh yeah my girlfriends pissed" like what do you want me to do with that theres so many factors at play here about how to get back on her good side or even if such a feat is possible cause trust me there are ways to get on a bad side permanently and for all i know you have done something worthy of the permanent bad side

like did you fucking go out and cheat on her?? if so then go ahead and dump yourself she doesnt deserve to put up with you

if you just like forgot to wash the dishes that one time or something???? yeah thats probably an offense you can recover from and im hoping that youre talking about something like that over the cheating because i am not a pro cheating advice column ill have you know

im a respectable advice column with family values and also a decent and healthy amount of respect for all romantic partners

anyways if you did something like forget an anniversary then that depends entirely on the girl and how long youve been together and how badly you forgot it

if it is a make up-able offense though what you do to get on her good side is......... also dependent on some awesome details that you didnt fucking give me

like my dude did you put effort into this question at all

did you just decide to mass produce this so that you could send it to multiple advice bogs? actually im gonna ask around and see if anybody else i know got it

anyways its a shit question put more effort in next time

some general shit you can do is obviously like buy her something that she likes take her on a special date to a place that she likes or try and do the thing you screwed up the first time but dont screw it up this time

but mostly just apologize

though i kinda hope you did that already because if you didnt even think to toss a lil im sorry in between the time you sent this and the time it took me to process it and actually respond then im sorry you might be beyond help

oh yeah that said one way to get on a girlfriends good side is to be a super famous advice columnist because then whatever you write will be public and apparently your girlfriend could be into public apologies like i dont know you didnt give me enough to work with

but i guess this is to say uh

sorry for joking about the thing you were right youre always right everybody should go to the best advice column ever the tentacled therapist for all of your best advice needs

(that was not a paid advertisement btw but i cant say that it was done entirely by choice)

((but no really im joshing you dont tell tt but her advice is actually pretty sound. even some of the ritual sacrifice stuff is kinda reasonable when you think about it. she usually only recommends it to assholes that deserve it its not just a blanket ritual since thatd have no meaning))

anyways good luck i guess?

like good luck if you arent a douchebag and i guess if you ARE a douchebag then good luck to your girlfriend i hope she dumps you and goes on to clearer waters

Dear Tentacled Therapist,

I'm thinking of proposing soon. What are your thoughts on a public proposal? On the one hand, it's kind of romantic getting to share a special moment with a lot of other people... but on the other hand, it does kind of trap the other person into saying yes because they don't want to seem like a jerk in front of a lot of other people. What do you think is the way to go with this one?

Sincerely, Nervous Proposer

Dear Nervous Proposition,

Whether or not a public proposal is a good idea depends entirely on the person that you are proposing to.

By this point, I would hope that you had some sort of idea about what the person you are proposing to might like as far as public proposals. Are they easily embarrassed by attention, or do they soak it up like they are plants who desperately need all available sunlight for photosynthesis? How keen are they on things such as surprise birthday parties? Have you ever thrown them a surprise birthday party? Perhaps, before considering marriage, you should throw them a surprise birthday party. You cannot truly know a person until you have seen their reaction to such a fiasco.

I would also recommend that the two of you have discussed the topic of marriage before you even consider popping the question to your prospective fiance. I wouldn't propose until the two of you consider yourselves to be - and I apologize for my use of this cliché - "engaged to be engaged." Make sure that your partner is planning on the prospect of a marriage with you.

You might even consider doing two proposals - one more subdued, in private, just to make sure that they say yes. Then you can propose that you have a big surprise that the two of you get to share with everybody else, and you get to propose a second time without any of the stress.

Now, personally, public proposals are not my style, and anybody dating me would know better than to do such a proposal. But.

That is assuming that they can beat me to the punch. ;)

I wish you luck in your endeavors, and I am sorry there was no good place for sacrifices to the Old Ones in this week's column.

Sincerely, The Tentacled Therapist

Dear DJ Strider,

Who should I pick to be my Maid of Honor? I have two really good friends. One I am closer to, and I know she'll probably pick me to be her maid of honor... but the other one is a LOT better at planning shit out. I know that if I pick her, my wedding will be run like a well-oiled machine, but I also don't want to upset my other friend. Then again, the friend who's good at planning might be offended that I chose the closer friend, and be frustrated when she has to deal with her bad planning as a bridesmaid.

So... who do I pick? It feels like I lose no matter what.

Sincerely, Fretting Fiance

dear ff

yo i fucking hear you on this shit weddings are the most stressful thing that has ever been invented by man

i mean man in the generic sense btw not the male human sense though i guess it might have also been made by a male human? idk i should ask about the history of weddings later maybe

anyways its all politics dont let anybody tell you any different

like you gotta be oh so careful with your seating placements at the reception or ol grandma berthas gonna tear the eyes out of uncle jimmy and we cant risk getting that blood all over the table cloths or else were gonna have to pay a really big fee to the table cloth company we hired and were already gonna be broke because of the honeymoon

and yeah we gotta make sure that shellys the bridesmaid second from the left because otherwise shell block out kelly in all the wedding pictures and kelly will pitch a fit

anyways i guess the easiest thing to do is going to just be to talk to them

you could always offer to split the honor between the two of them too if your planny friend is as good as planning as you say i bet you can come up with a good way to work 2 maids of honor into the ceremony

also uh i guess this is a good a time as any to make a lil announcement guys

so after april rolls around im not gonna be dj strider anymore

better get ready to start making your pleas for help out to dj lalonde

-- the artist formerly known as dj strider

[akiryu] track 2.10: sunset bridge

~4200 words / ao3 link

summary: people seem to have the wrong idea about what exactly the relationship between ryuji and akira is. ryuji reflects, runs, realizes.

(I LOVE P5 AND AKIRYU. so much. and the track sunset bridge from the ost. and the rest of the ost in general. wow. so here is my first attempt at persona fic, i hope i can do these two justice and write more fic in the future ;v;) - Perhaps because she is the newest member of their group and thus the most unfamiliar with them all, Haru asks Ryuji, in her typical singsong voice, “So how long have you and Akira-kun been dating?”

Ryuji nearly rips the tomato plants he was tending to out of their soil. This is the last time he offers to help Haru with her little garden on the school rooftop. “… What?”

Haru doesn’t realize the oddness of her statement, nor the way Ryuji squeezes the tomatoes in his hand in distress. She only smiles understandingly and says, “You seem very good together.”

“He and I,” Ryuji squeaks, “we’re—” “Someday I hope I can find someone who looks at me the way Akira-kun looks at you.” Haru sighs dreamily, smiling as she drifts her fingers over the leaves in front of her. “You are very lucky.” Ryuji feels faint. “It isn’t like—” Haru’s phone rings, and one glance at the caller ID has Haru hastily wiping her hands to answer it, giving Ryuji a quick, “Please excuse me for a moment, Ryuji-kun.” When she finishes with the call, she tells Ryuji she has an urgent meeting to get to at the Okumura Foods offices, and she asks Ryuji to please give the plants a quick watering before he leaves, thank you and so sorry for the trouble. In her haste, Ryuji doesn’t get a chance to explain. The door of the rooftop clangs shut as she leaves, and Ryuji runs a hand through his hair, mutters, “Jeez.” He picks up the watering can and wonders, What the hell did she mean the way Akira looks at me? - Ryuji watches closely during their next meeting in Leblanc’s attic. He doesn’t think Akira stares at him any differently than anyone else does. Maybe he doesn't glare as much as Ann or chide as much as Morgana, but it’s certainly not like Akira spends much of his time gazing soulfully into Ryuji’s eyes. Because that’s what couples do, isn’t it? Ryuji’s experience in this particular subject is nigh nonexistent, but he figures that much is certainly part and parcel with the whole relationship thing. “Is there something wrong with my face?” “Huh?” “You were squinting at me,” Akira says. Ah, shit. He noticed. Thinking fast, Ryuji says, “Uh, th-the light shining off your glasses was hitting my eyes.” “Oh?” Akira takes his glasses off, blinking his too-long eyelashes. “Is that better?” It’s far from the first time Ryuji’s seen Akira with his glasses off. But for some reason, Ryuji’s face turns warm and his pulse quickens beneath his skin. Akira tilts his head questioningly. “Yep!” Ryuji’s voice, to his horror, cracks. But Akira doesn’t seem to notice, just gives Ryuji a small smile before turning back to listen to Morgana’s explanation of another Mementos request. Ryuji groans inwardly at himself, and when he turns away from Akira he catches Ann’s gaze, one delicate eyebrow raised at him. “What?” Ryuji grouches. “Oh, nothing,” Ann says, sipping at her milk tea. -

YUSUKE: Ryuji, may I request your assistance with something? It better not be for modeling, Ryuji thinks, before responding, whats up YUSUKE: I have a few boxes of art supplies arriving today and I would greatly appreciate some help carrying them up to my dorm room, if you are available. Ryuji looks around his room. All he’s doing is reading manga, and sure, there’s a pile of unfinished homework waiting on his desk that he could (should) be working on, but. RYUJI: yeah sure, when? YUSUKE: Right now, if that’s alright. They should be arriving soon. Ryuji heads for the train. When he arrives in front of Yusuke’s dormitory, it’s more than just a few boxes sitting at Yusuke’s feet. “What the hell, Yusuke?” Ryuji stares. “Just how many art supplies do you need? This is why you never have anything to buy food.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Yusuke says, hefting one of the boxes into his hands, “I bought groceries today. Bean sprouts and miso.” “You need more than that to live, you know!” By the time they get all the boxes up the stairs to Yusuke’s room—on the fourth floor, Ryuji internally cries—Ryuji’s arms are aching and his hands are sore from gripping the cardboard. “Thank you,” Yusuke says, when Ryuji places the last box on the floor beside all the others. “Sincerely. This would have taken me much longer had I done it all by myself.” “Yeah, well.” Ryuji stretches, hears his back pop in two places. “You don’t have to do stuff by yourself anymore, so. Anytime, man.” Yusuke makes a soft sound of agreement, with the barest curve to his lips. “Right.” “So, you got juice or anything here? I’m parched.” “There is a vending machine down the hall. I’ll return in a moment.” Before shutting the door behind him, Yusuke adds, “Feel free to look around.” Ryuji does look around. There are canvases all over, at varying points of progress. A bookshelf full of art books and some textbooks for non-art related classes. A neatly made bed and a drawing desk with a sketchbook laid on it. He steps over to the desk, and the sketchbook is open to a pencil drawing of Akira. He seems to be staring at something, cheek leaning against his curled hand, his face relaxed and open with the hint of a smile on his lips. His eyes… there’s a warmth in them that Ryuji is surprised to see conveyed through pencil. He nearly touches it with the tips of his fingers before stopping himself, not wanting to smudge Yusuke’s work. “I sketched that during one of our meetings,” Yusuke explains, suddenly appearing beside him. Ryuji nearly jumps out of his skin. Yusuke, unperturbed, offers him a soda can. “I-Is that so?” Heartbeat returning to a normal rhythm, Ryuji pops open the soda tab. Yusuke nods. “The looks Akira gives you are quite inspiring. I’ve been working on conveying the emotion on paper, and I think I’m getting closer to achieving it.” Ryuji chokes on his soda. Yusuke pats Ryuji’s back while he coughs violently. “Ryuji?” “Not this shit again,” Ryuji wheezes. “First Haru, now you, too. Just what the hell is going on?” “I’m afraid I don’t follow.” “You and me both.” Ryuji sighs. He covers his face with one hand, grimaces in embarrassment as he asks, “Does Akira… really look at me that way?” “You haven’t noticed?” Yusuke is genuinely surprised. “I assumed you two are very close.” “Well, yeah but…” Ryuji glances at the page again, feels his face heat up. “I think Akira cares a great deal about you, if that isn’t too presumptuous of me to say.” It’s always astounded Ryuji, Yusuke’s ability to be perfectly comfortable speaking with such unabashed honesty. God. This is not at all a conversation he ever expected to have with him. “Of course, Akira cares a great deal about everyone. I believe that’s why he is our leader. But I think there’s something even more meaningful with you. It’s the reason I drew this, after all.” Ryuji makes a distressed noise in his throat. This is all too much for his brain to handle at the moment. “Forgive me, it’s probably not my place to talk about it.” Yusuke moves to close the sketchbook. “It’s nice.” Yusuke pauses. “Your drawing.” Ryuji rubs at the back of his neck, sips at his soda and looks out the window, too embarrassed to look at Yusuke, or the soft sketch of Akira’s eyes, directly. “It looks good.” - That evening in his room, Ryuji considers. Why did it bother him so much, Haru mistakenly assuming they were dating? He could have just laughed it off and explained no, they’re only friends, and perhaps they spend a lot of time together but Akira hangs out with many people. Like a magnet, people gravitate to him. Ryuji was one of them, after all, finding himself drawn to this nameless, unfamiliar boy and suddenly feeling like he can rely on him. It had been so long since Ryuji felt like he could genuinely trust someone. But had he thought about Akira romantically before? He can’t help thinking about it now—Ryuji doesn’t know much, but he knows this: spending time alone together, going out on dates, holding hands… k-kiss— Ryuji buries his face in his pillow. He feels hot all the way to his fingertips. Oh no. - He’s yet to catch Akira staring at him the way Haru and Yusuke apparently have, but at this point, it doesn’t matter much. Ryuji can’t shake the thought—him, Akira, together—and it’s starting to drive him crazy. He feels a little bad about the way he’s handling it. Normally, he texts Akira two to three times a week asking to hang out, but this week he hasn’t been able to work up the nerve at all. Ryuji wonders if Akira has noticed. But he just can’t bring himself to spend time alone with him without turning red in the face, without searching his eyes for something Ryuji might have been ignorant to all this time. So instead, he runs away. Ryuji’s always been good at running. But this time, there’s no escaping it. They’re down in Mementos, trying to fulfill the last of four different requests. Akira’s in the driver’s seat, guiding Morgana over the winding, endless train tracks, which leaves Ryuji free to look out the window and decidedly not at the person who has singlehandedly occupied his thoughts for the past week. “Sharp left here,” Futaba says, a digital projection of the floor’s map in front of her. Akira complies. Before them are the gnarled, twisted ends of the tracks, and the hellish red of the portal leading to their target. “Careful,” Futaba warns as they all pile out of the van. It’s always difficult to read her expression with her goggles over her face, but her lips are pressed into a thin line. “I’m getting a huge power signature from this one.” Ryuji stretches, twirls his pipe in his hands. A good fight feels like exactly what he needs to escape his thoughts. “We got this,” he tells her with a grin. “Be careful,” Futaba stresses again, following them all through the portal. Futaba was right to warn them. Yusuke grunts as he guards against a heavy swing from their target’s spear, a towering, armored  Bishamonten Persona, and the force of it pushes him back, boots scraping against the concrete. “Skull,” he grits out through his teeth. “I got ya!” Ryuji comes from behind, pipe arched over his head. The Persona whips around lightning-quick, knocks Ryuji aside with its broad arm. Ryuji falls, the wind punched out of him, pipe clattering to the ground. The sudden warmth of a Diarama spell washes over him. When he looks up, Akira is holding a hand out for him. “Thanks,” Ryuji says, taking Akira’s hand and rising to his feet. “He’s tough, huh?” Beneath the mask, Joker smiles, which is just terribly attractive. “Nah.” Ryuji rolls his shoulders, picks his pipe off the ground. “He’s no match for us.” They charge in. All that talk and still all they can do is slowly wear away at the Persona’s health. Even the fierce burn of Makoto’s nuclear spells and the force of Yusuke’s attacks still leave the fight dragging long. All of them breath heavily, the length of the battle taking its toll. Morgana’s healing spells are losing their vigor. Ryuji’s pipe feels heavier in his hands, more and more difficult to swing. “Just a little more!” Futaba shouts, casting Matarukaja over them all. Ryuji feels strength return to his body, just enough for him to make this last, final push. Haru fires one of her rockets. It barely phases the Bishamonten, but the resulting smoke gives Ryuji the chance to close in with a heavy swing at the Persona’s head, and the hard impact rattles up Ryuji’s arms. Bishamonten groans and Ryuji leaps away, just missing the swing of the Persona’s arm. Not falling for that again. It’s disoriented. Akira readies an ice spell, light gathering at his fingertips. Bishamonten recovers faster than expected. It shakes its head fiercely, blinking away its dizziness, then focuses its gaze on Akira. “No!” Ryuji nearly falls with the abruptness that he turns on his heel, but he doesn’t care. Akira’s eyes widen. The Bishamonten rounds on him with frightening speed. Ryuji is faster. He pushes Akira out of the way. Pain explodes in his side. He flies several feet, hits the ground hard. Fuck. Fuck. He thinks at least one or two of his ribs are broken. The world is spinning. He can’t tell up from down. It takes all his energy to roll off his side and onto his back, and goddamn his ribs hurt. A shadow falls over him. “Skull!” Akira. He kneels on the ground beside him, his gaze worried. His fingers hover over Ryuji’s form. “Ryuji.” It’s difficult to find his breath. Ryuji heaves in a gasp and winces at the pain in his ribs. A green glow emanates from Akira’s fingertips, flooding Ryuji with warmth. The pain from his ribs dissipates. Ryuji breathes easier. “Man,” he rasps, “that guy really got me.” Akira grasps Ryuji’s collar with shaky fists. “You…” Akira’s eyes are wide. “You could’ve…” His voice falters. He bows his head, his grip on Ryuji’s collar tightening for a moment before he drops his hands away. “H-Hey,” Ryuji says, sitting up, “we made it out okay, didn’t we?” Akira stares at Ryuji like he’s trying to memorize the details of his face. He sighs, shuts his eyes. Then he slumps forward and presses his forehead against Ryuji’s chest. Ryuji freezes. He can feel the warmth of Akira’s breath through his clothes. “Yes,” Akira says softly, “we’re okay.” He looks up. “Let’s go home.” Behind Akira, Morgana takes a hold of the target’s treasure. The rest of the Thieves must have finished without them. Makoto is the one to get into the driver’s seat this time. Just before they join the others inside the van, Akira reaches out to squeeze Ryuji’s arm, briefly, and he says very quietly, “Thank you.” Ryuji stops. His heart is in his throat, beating wildly. Not trusting himself with words, he shrugs and slings an arm over Akira’s shoulders. He feels Akira relax. They head home. - ANN: Meet me at the diner on central street today. Like 12 ish. Got important stuff to talk about. RYUJI: uhhh like what ANN: Just be there :p When Ryuji arrives, Ann is already waiting for him in front of the steps to the diner. She all but drags him in. “Hey, what the hell?!” She maneuvers him into one of the booths before she takes a seat across from him, lacing her fingers on the table and fixing Ryuji with a serious look. Ryuji gulps. “So,” she begins, “you and Akira need to get together already for the sake of all our sanities.” “… What?!” This is precisely when the waiter arrives at their table and says, “Welcome! What can I get you today?” Ann turns to him, a perfectly cheerful smile on her face. “Two fruit teas, please!” “Alright, I’ll get that for you right away.” “Thank you so much!” When the waiter leaves, Ann’s expression once again turns very serious. “This is what you dragged me here for?” Ryuji demands. “Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” “Noticed what?” Ann’s stare becomes more pointed, her eyebrows raised. Ryuji loses the last of his patience. “I’m effin’ tired of everyone making assumptions and saying all these things are obvious when I don’t have a damn clue what they’re talking about!” He earns a few curious glances from the nearby tables, but Ryuji doesn’t care. “I wish I knew, okay? I wish I knew what everyone else sees, about Akira, about us, but I—I don’t, alright, I just don’t.” Ryuji slumps down over the table, presses his forehead against the wood. “Everything’d be so much easier if I knew.” Ann is quiet. She sighs. Ryuji can hear the shifting sounds of her clothes as she moves, then he feels a hand muss his hair. “Wh—hey!” “You’re really hopeless, aren’t you?” she says. Her tone lacks bite, and it makes Ryuji furrow his brows at her. “Why do you think Akira reacted that way when you jumped in front of him?” “That’s…” “He cares about you. A lot.” Ann taps her fingers against the table. “And honestly, it’s kind of driving us nuts wondering when you two are gonna get together already. Haru already thinks you’re together.” “Yeah, I know,” Ryuji mutters. “Did she mention it to you?” Ann laughs. “Y’know, if she assumed you were dating, it must mean it looked like it went both ways for her, not just how Akira acts towards you. So I guess the real issue here is how you feel about him. Do you like him?” “I…” Ryuji thinks hard. He’s spent quite a lot of time this week thinking about what it would be like to date Akira. And he’s admitted before that being around Akira makes him feel free—like he can be anyone he wants, not just who others demand him to be. There isn’t anywhere he’d rather be than by Akira’s side, if he would have him. Ryuji blushes madly. How embarrassing. It’s always been Akira, hasn’t it? Ann giggles again. “I’d guess that’s a yes.” The waiter arrives and places two teacups on saucers in front of them. Ann thanks him and proceeds to add three sugar packets to her fruit tea. Ryuji fingers the delicate handle on his teacup, grumbles, “You know I’m more of a soda guy.” “If you’re gonna go confess,” Ann says, “you’ll need all the charm you can get.” - Outside the door to Leblanc, dark inside now that it’s past closing, Ryuji paces back and forth with his phone in hand. “Just effin’ do it already,” he mumbles to himself, thumb hesitating over the chat app. He takes a deep breath, then taps open his conversation with Akira. “Ryuji?” Ryuji jumps ten feet into the air. “Holy fuck—” “Sorry, sorry!” Akira readjusts the bag on his shoulder, from which Morgana’s head peeks out. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” “Well, ya did.” Ryuji places a hand over his rapidly beating heart. “Sorry,” Akira says again, not looking particularly apologetic at all, if the smile at the corners of his lips is any indication. “What are you doing here this late?” “I, uh. Wanted to see you.” Ryuji slaps a hand over his eyes. He pleads at his face to stop blushing already, dammit. “I mean—I needed to talk to you about something.” “Oh. Okay.” Akira pulls out a key from his pocket and approaches the door. “Want to come in?” Ryuji nods. Akira flips on the lights when they enter. It’s strange seeing Leblanc so dark and quiet. Ryuji’s never been here this late before. “Coffee?” Akira offers, setting his bag in one of the booths. Morgana climbs out, stretching his limbs. “Nah, I’m good.” Coffee would only make Ryuji jittery, and the grasp he has on his nerves is already tentative at best. “Do you want to go upstairs, or?” Upstairs. Akira’s bedroom. Ryuji swallows and says, “Yeah.” As they climb the stairs, Ryuji notices Morgana staying behind, making himself comfortable in one of the booths. The look he gives Ryuji seems to say, “I don’t want to have any place in whatever happens upstairs,” which only makes this whole thing more mortifying. He wonders how a cat can look like he’s raising an eyebrow. Ryuji only shakes his head and continues onward. Akira shoulders off his jacket and drops it onto the table beside the stairs. “Make yourself at home,” he says, gesturing vaguely to the expanse of his room. While Ryuji takes a seat on the couch, Akira opens a packet of plant nutrients and deposits it into the soil of his leafy potted plant, murmurs something to it about growing strong. He even gives his plants loving attention. Ryuji thinks he can’t be the only one in love with the guy. “Ne, Akira.” Ryuji wipes his hands on his jeans, swallows against the nervousness clawing up his throat. “Have you… ever dated anyone before?” Akira is surprised by the question, blinking. “No,” he admits. “It’s been an eventful few months, here in Tokyo. And before living here, there wasn’t really anyone I was interested in.” “And what about now?” “Hm?” “A-Are you interested in anyone now?” Akira straightens his back, turns to face Ryuji fully. “Yes,” he says softly. Ryuji’s heart thumps so loudly he wonders if Akira can hear it. He takes a breath, says, “Me too.” Akira’s eyes widen. Ryuji can’t believe he’s surprised. All this time, ramen dates and late night phone calls and who knows how many sappy heart to hearts. It’s no wonder the rest of the Thieves are at their wits’ end. Ryuji rises from his seat and walks forward to Akira. He stays perfectly still as Ryuji approaches, even when Ryuji leans in, lifting one hand to rest it against the wall behind him, boxing him in. Akira’s breath trembles on each exhale, and his eyes flicker to Ryuji’s own. “Ryuji.” Akira’s voice has gone very quiet. “I like you,” Ryuji says. He fills with determination. “I’ve probably liked you since the day we met. I like fighting beside you and hanging out with you and talking to you. A-And… if we could do all those same things but as boyfriends, too, then that would be really, really awesome. So.” Akira stares. Ryuji won’t run this time. He keeps Akira’s gaze, looks for a reaction or emotion in the inky depths of his eyes. Akira laughs. “H-Hey! What’s so funny? I’m serious, dammit!” “No, I know,” Akira says, muffling a laugh into his hand. He’s grinning. “Since the day we met…” he mutters, shaking his head. “We’re pretty dense.” “Huh?” Akira’s hands cradle Ryuji’s face, and Ryuji freezes under his touch, breath catching in his throat. Akira’s hands are warm. “I like you, too.” Akira’s smile is gentler now, and he looks at Ryuji like he is some precious, wondrous thing. Ryuji thinks this is what Haru and Yusuke and the others have seen for so long and that Ryuji somehow missed. It’s a shame—Ryuji wants to collect those moments, keep them like treasure. “That’s…” he breathes, “that’s—” “Awesome?” Akira suggests. “Well, yeah.” Ryuji grins. His traitorous skin is blushing again, but he doesn’t care. Akira likes him. Ryuji’s so happy he feels like floating. Like he could lift and fly right into the atmosphere, Akira’s touch the only thing anchoring him down to earth. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, because he’s come this far and he’s not stopping here. Akira leans in and steals the breath from Ryuji’s mouth. - “Is it break time yet, Makoto?” Ann pleads. “Not until you’ve finished the first set of problems.” Makoto points threateningly with her pencil. “I hate math,” Ryuji mutters. He’s got a habit of chewing on his pen caps and he’s gone through two already during this study session. They really need to find a new place to study together. The booths at Leblanc only barely fit all of them, and the table becomes too crowded with all of their belongings on top of it. The only upside to the tight squeeze is Akira pressed in next to him, their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle. Every once in a while Akira’s foot bumps into his and Ryuji bumps it back. Akira gives him a look, quick and fond and secret, and it makes Ryuji want to escape from the others and disappear upstairs with Akira for a while. Screw studying. Yusuke’s elbow digs into his side again. Ryuji would normally be forgiving considering the cramped nature of the booth, but this is the third time in the last five minutes and the guy’s got bony elbows. When he turns to ask Yusuke why the hell he’s writing notes with so much zeal, he gets a look at Yusuke’s notebook. “Hey, Yusuke’s not even studying,” Ryuji accuses. It’s not a notebook, but a sketchbook. “I was suddenly struck by inspiration,” Yusuke says, and lifts his arm away to reveal a sketch of Ryuji. It’s reminiscent of his sketch of Akira, back in his dorm room. He’s smiling, the kind of easy, carefree smile that comes after a laugh, and the same warmth from Akira’s eyes is conveyed again in Ryuji’s. He looks completely enamored. Haru giggles in her hand. “It’s a good look, Ryuji-kun.” “It is.” Akira smiles at him, looking very amused by it all. Where Ryuji might once have sputtered and made a fuss, now he only shrugs and lays his arm across Akira’s shoulders. “Yeah, it’s not bad,” he says, and grins.