#i cried through the entirety of the last chapter..

[hal-5000]

i'm rereading the hunger games books so i finally had an excuse to buy and read the 2 prequels....suzanne the woman you are

[crowsofdarkness]

Who Are You?: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner.-

Pairings: The Winter Soldier: Bucky Barnes x Agent Fallen x The Crow: Eric Draven

Content Warnings: angst, violence, kidnapping, death, language, smut that will include unprotected pinv, oral with male and female receiving, fingering, hand jobs, voyeurism, public sex, double penetration, semi-rough sex, spanking, sharing of partners(m/f/m).

Summary: Agent Fallen was looking for a ghost, her ghost. With direct orders to shoot on sight to anyone who stands in her way, she soon finds herself at a crossroads when facing another ghost. The Crow. As they work together to find The Winter Soldier, Fallen and Eric Draven have to also work out their complicated relationship with each other.

Authors Note: this series is not canon to any of the Marvel movies, besides a few details. this will be a reverse harem/why chose series which means the FMC is with both MMCs, never choosing between the two. there will be moments where Eric and Bucky share Fallen. updates will be slow for this one. Tags are open!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @bookofriverr @starfly-nicole

-i have my permanent bucky tags on this. if you're not interested in this story because of Eric Draven, no worries! let me know and I can take you off this story-

The snow beneath my boots crunch as I trudged farther along the darkened path, the setting sun disappearing behind the mountains in the horizon. My suit stuck to my like a second skin, the leather doing nothing to keep me warm due to my heated blood. Thanks to my powers, my blood always ran hot so while it was nearing -39 degrees celsius on Mountain Pik Podeba in Siberia, I felt sweat gather at the back of my neck. It had been an incredibly difficult trek yet I continued to push through, never giving up. 

It wasn’t in my nature to which is why SHIELD hired me. 

Did they hire you or felt pity for you when they found you on another cold mountain side and saved your life eight years ago? 

Shaking the thought from my mind, not daring to think about the past, I thought about the mission instead. My boss, Agent Fury, set down an extra classified folder on my desk a few days ago with one demand: keep it between us. 

As soon as I opened the folder, I immediately knew why we needed to keep it between us. Fury was the only one in SHIELD that knew about my past and where I came from since he was the one that found me eight years ago. If anyone inside of SHIELD found out about where that was, I’d be outcasted and probably arrested. While everyone at headquarters thought I was away on vacation, I was actually up in the mountains in Russia, looking for a ghost. 

The Winter Soldier. 

There had been rumors he’d gone rouge from Hydra a few years ago, killing everyone that had a hand in creating him. Fury had been keeping a watchful and good eye on The Winter Soldier to see if he had me in his sights. It was fine until last year when the list started to dwindle down to only three names left. 

One random guard. 

Dimitri. 

The last name on The Winter Soldiers list was only three letters, almost as if he couldn’t remember the entirety of it. But Fury knew and when I saw a copy of the list, I knew as well. 

When I read that all too familiar name back in my office the other day, all of the oxygen was stolen from my lungs as my past reared its ugly head. I hadn’t come face to face with The Winter Soldier in nearly eight years when Hydra literally tossed me out into the snow, broken and defeated. Just before one of the Hydra guards shut the door, I saw those dark eyes watch me over the guards shoulder, not bothering to stop them. 

“Soldat,” I cried out, as the flames dissipated from my hands; the fight for my survival was long gone. 

Everyone who didn’t know him called him The Winter Soldier, I called him Soldat during my time in Hydra. He was the one who trained me, made me who I am. But once one of the guards found Soldat and I in bed together, our leader Dimitri ordered my removal from the compound. I was shunned and left to die on the side of the mountain by the people I thought I had a home with all because I fell in love with another one of their other puppets. 

Dimitri was stern in his orders, never wanting Soldat and I to stray too far from our orders of death and destruction. So when he got word of our private affairs, it was clear who would be shunned. The Winter Soldier was Hydra’s most prized soldier and weapon meanwhile I was their project gone wrong; the one who couldn’t be controlled. 

Along with the love and memories of Soldat, I buried that part of me deep within me, never letting Căzut out again. I had a name when I was younger, something I couldn’t remember so Soldat was the one that gave me my name the first night I arrived at the Hydra compound, afraid. 

“Căzut,” a metal thumb lifted my chin as I knelt before him, causing me to look up at him. “You may have fallen but you will rise again.” 

So when Fury found me eight years ago wandering on the Russian mountain side and asked me for my name, I gave him the only one I had. 

Fallen. 

Breaking over the horizon, I could vaguely make out a wooden home about 15 feet west and let out a small breath of relief. To others that ventured up on this side of the mountain they might have thought it odd for a small house to be placed in the middle of nowhere. But us at SHIELD knew what it was. 

A safe house. 

This one specifically was off the map  because it was Fury’s own safe house, one he didn’t want anyone to know of. The only reason why I knew about it was because he’d brought me here eight years ago. 

“I’m fucking starved,” I grumbled under my breath as I stepped through a large mound of snow, the heat seeping through my boot melting it almost instantly. 

Fury mentioned that the wood burning stove in the house didn’t work but when I snapped my fingers, bringing fire to them, I reminded him that warmth shouldn’t be an issue for me. 

After gaining access inside with my thumb print to the front door,  I took the first step inside of the house yet immediately froze because something felt off; wrong. There was a shift in the air that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It wasn’t the chill of the house that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was the feeling that eyes were watching me. Softly letting my bag fall to the floor, I reached for the knife in the side pocket of my tac suit and when my fingers grazed over the handle, a sharp kick landed to the back of my knee. I fell to the aged hardwood floor with a thud, quickly spinning around on my knees to look at who managed to attack me. Expecting to meet a pair of eyes, I was met with a long blade from a katana sword, the tip pressed to my neck. 

I followed up the length of it up to a hand covered in tattoos, recognizing one of them immediately. Snapping my gaze up, I met a pair of soulless eyes already pinning me in place and sucked in a breath. 

No fucking way. It’s true. 

“How the fuck did you get inside?” I asked, doing my best to keep my tone calm since he was the one with the blade pressed to my throat. 

The man, who stood tall over me at atleast six feet, cocked his head to the side. His face was covered underneath a mask from the nose down, showcasing those dark eyes as they assessed me. Those same eyes were blanketed in some kind of black paint. A few small strands of hair fell into his eyes but he made no move to brush them away. He was glad in all black, except for his hands that showcased all of the ink. 

Everyone in SHIELD thought The Winter Soldier was the ghost but they were all wrong. The man standing in front of me was an even bigger ghost. He was a rumor that no one seemed to have any proof of. I only knew of him from what I’ve read in his very skim folder which only had two things; his name and the picture of one of his tattoos. 

The Crow and the tattoo of a crow on the outside of his hand. The same one I was staring at right now. 

“You’re real,” I muttered. 

He remained silent yet pressed the tip of the blade harder against my throat causing me to kneel straighter while holding my hands out to my sides showing him I was unarmed. 

“I’m really at your mercy right now,” I flicked my gaze to the sword. “All it would take is a simple flick of your wrist and you’d hit one of my arteries, making me bleed out on the floor in seconds. I can tell you right now, I have no intention of dying today.” 

The Crow didn’t seem to believe me because he motioned to the weapons on my tac suit with a silent order. 

Remove them. 

Biting back a curse, I slowly removed the gun and knives from all of the pockets before sliding them over to his combat boots. 

“Are you going to tell me how you broke into a SHIELD safe house?” I asked. 

Yet again, he didn’t speak as he kicked my weapons across the floor, them skidding down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“I have orders to kill anyone that stands in the way of my current mission,” I said while shaking out my fingers, not yet bringing the fire forth. 

“I’d like to see you try,” The Crow chuckled darkly. 

I nearly fell to my ass at his voice, how deep and rich it was, but maintained my composure. 

“So you do speak,” I teased with a smirk. “Here I thought Hydra cut out your tongue.” 

His eyes snapped away from the exposed top of my breasts in my suit thanks to the zipper being down a bit and his jaw ticked. Victory surged through me when I found the answer to a question a lot of us were wondering. If The Crow was Hydra or not. 

“So it is true,” I continued on, puffing out my chest when I caught him staring again. 

Even if he was this top secret Hydra weapon, he was still a man and men have certain weaknesses.

“Let me guess. Hydra got bored with their main weapon and decided to create another?”

“You know Hydra?” The Crow asked me, the grip on his katana never faltering as the tip was still pressed to my throat. 

“You’re looking at one of their failed projects,” I sighed. 

He snickered. “What’s so special about you?” 

He’s fucking rude. 

With a snap, I brought forth the fire to my fingers which made him take a step back, letting the blade of his sword fall away from my neck. With the new found opportunity, I kicked my feet out to trip The Crow and he clambered to the ground. 

I looked back down the hallway where he kicked my weapons moments ago, ready to crawl my way towards them only to have my ankle grabbed and yanked into the living room. The Crow and I scuffled for a few moments, me trying to rip off his mask which caused him to slam his forehead on mine, nearly making me succumb to darkness. 

Super soldier strength? Check. 

While I had my own strength thanks to the serum running through me, it wasn’t anything compared to his. I sent a knee into his groin which made him double over in pain, giving me a few seconds to scurry away from him. Quickly rising to my feet, I threw a fireball at him only for him to grab his sword, blocking it. I watched in horror as the fire fell to ash at his feet. 

“What the fuck is your katana made out of?!” I demanded right before The Crow ran towards me, pushing me against the wall. 

His thick arm pressed into my throat, cutting off my breathing almost instantly. My feet dangled in the air slightly as I clawed at the material of his jacket, doing whatever I could to get him off of me. 

“Just like I thought. Pathetic,” he sneered, face inches from mine. 

His mask had slipped in our scuffle and it was then I got a good look at his entire face, lingering over his plump lips. Somehow without his mask, it seemed to accentuate the black paint around his eyes. 

He was gorgeous. 

Focus, you idiot! He’s going to kill you!

“Thank god you don’t have a metal arm,” I muttered under my breath as I tried to fight against him. 

The Crow’s grip around my throat faltered only for a moment as his face twitched but then he pressed his hips deeper into mine to pin me fully against the wall. Through his cargo pants, the outline of his cock against my pussy and my eyes doubled in size when I felt how hard he was, letting a moan slip quietly. 

“Is this turning you on?” I teased. 

His eyes narrowed as he pressed himself harder against me. “Says the one who just moaned.”

Curse his super soldier hearing.

“Can’t help but like what I see,” I did my best to shrug while still being pinned to the wall. 

The Crow eyes casted down to my breasts, lingering over the sweat that gathered there and all too quickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” 

His gaze flicked up to me as he pressed his arm tighter against my throat. “I have no desire other than to kill.” 

“Hydra program you to say that? Because your dick pressing against me says otherwise,” I tossed back. 

“You’re insufferable you know that,” he sneered while tossing me to the floor and I sucked in a giant breath, feeling the life return. 

“You can thank Hydra for that,” I choked on a breath before rising to my knees and glancing over at him. 

He had placed his sword back into its sheath and set it on the back of the couch then turned to face me with narrowed eyes. I was growing tired of this look. 

“What are you doing here?” The Crow asked. 

I snorted while slowly standing and rested my hands on my hips. “I should be asking you that. You’re in my safe house, which I’m still wondering how the fuck you got in without my thumb print.” 

“You left the window unlocked,” he pointed to the window in the living room. 

Damn it, Fury. 

Running a hand through my red hair, I let out a long breath and stood in front of The Crow as he sat against the back of the couch, his long legs outstretched. 

I squinted my eyes at him when I realized something. ��Why didn’t you kill me just now? You had the chance more than once.” 

Something flickered in those eyes but his face remained like stone. “You said something about Hydra programming me. How would you know that?” 

I brought forth the fire again, letting it dance inside my palm as I manipulated it with the air around me. A party trick is what I liked to call it. 

“Like I said, Hydra created this. They kept me captive for years and the second I disobeyed one of their orders, they tossed me to the side as if I was nothing,” I closed my fist to put the fire out. 

“So you’re not with Hydra anymore?” The Crow asked. 

I shook my head, not completely sure why he was suddenly not trying to attack me anymore, but what shocked me the most was how comfortable I felt opening up to him.

“You mentioned something about a metal arm,” he said while crossing his arms over his chest. 

I swallowed thickly, not knowing where the conversation was headed now. “Your point?” 

The Crow shook off his jacket, letting it fall to the couch behind him. “Was The Winter Soldier before or after your time with Hydra?” 

“During,” I informed while shifting on my feet. “He’s the one that trained me.” 

“No offense but he did a shitty job.”

I shot him with a glare, feeling protective over Soldat after all these years because the love I had for him still lingering. “Fuck you.” 

The Crow eyes drank me in from head to toe before resting back on my lips. “Tempting but I have other orders.”

“Care to tell me what those orders are? Because I’m still curious on how you found this SHIELD safe house?” 

“This is SHIELD? Here I thought they would put you up in a mansion or some shit,” he snickered. 

“Well,” I kicked my bag in the air and caught it. “This has been so much fucking fun but I have plans. Please let the door hit you on the way out.” 

I made it all of two steps towards the staircase, ready for a shower and food while I went over my notes on Soldat when a voice stopped me. 

“Do these plans have anything to do with The Winter Soldier?” 

Turning swiftly on my heels, I glared at The Crow. “Excuse me?” 

He threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the laptop on the coffee table behind him. “I hacked into the laptop here and read your current mission report. It’s kind of irresponsible to leave a top secret laptop out in the open like that.” 

Letting out a scream of frustration, I chucked my bag at him which he caught with an attractive and annoying ease. 

“How long have you been here?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “Few days. I’ve been waiting for you to show up.”

This piqued my interest and I raised a brow at him. “You’ve been waiting for me? Why?” 

The Crow stood to his full height and closed the distance between us. Suddenly, I got a small whiff of his scent and couldn't help but shiver at how good he smelled. 

“I’ve been tasked with retrieving The Winter Soldier to bring him back to Hydra,” he informed me while stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. 

I scoffed while shaking my head. “There’s no way I’m helping you bring Soldat back to the monsters that tortured him.” 

“Soldat?” His brows furrowed. 

“It’s what we called him. It's "soldier " in Russian,” I said. 

He nodded curtly. “Well, my Hydra mission is different from my main mission.” 

“Which is?” I pressed. 

There was something oddly weird about why The Crow chose this safe house and why he was waiting for me personally. 

“I need his blood to create an antidote for the serum running through me. I’ve been this weapon for years and need a way out. Hydra doesn't know this but I’m not returning from this mission. I don’t want this life for me any more.”

“What makes you think Hydra will let you get away with that?” I asked in utter disbelief. 

There was absolutely no way anyone in that group would let someone like The Crow get away.

“I have people on the inside that will fake my death so I can hide away.” 

“And you trust them?”

I was beyond shocked that not only did he have the balls to pull off a move like this but he was also divulging his plans to basically a stranger who was an agent of SHIELD and former Hydra assassin.

“With my life,” he said without missing a beat. 

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I ran a hand over my face, the exhaustion from my trek up the mountain suddenly catching up to me. 

Something seemed to lift from his shoulders as he let out a long sigh, suddenly breaking free in front of me. 

“I need your help. I’ve been hunting Soldat for months but can’t seem to keep on his trail. If anyone can find him, it’s you,” he said. 

“What makes you think I can find him?” 

“My sources tell me he’s also looking for you,” he motioned towards the laptop on the coffee table. 

I rolled my eyes at his sources and crossed my arms over my chest. “Why the hell would I help you? You tried to kill me.”

“I would never,” he placed a hand over his chest in mock pain. “I just wanted to see what you were made of.” 

“You’re insufferable,” I exasperated while repeating his words from earlier.

The Crow continued to wear that smirk as he shrugged. “You’ll get used to it the longer we’re together.” 

“Hang on,” I raised a finger. “I never agreed to help you. What do I get out of this? It goes against my orders from SHIELD.” 

“Well, according to your records, it seems like you’ve had quite a few red marks. Your boss, Fury, is trying to help you keep your job which is why he sent you on this private mission. If you brought in The Winter Soldier, it would solidify your position until you retire. But something tells me that you’re looking for a way out as well.”

My spine stiffened as I stood up straighter, not knowing how he found that info out. No one inside of SHIELD knew I was purposely getting red marks on my record in a way for them to kick me off the force. This private mission to find Soldat was a way out with the hopes he remembered me and he could help. 

I swallowed thickly. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You think you know things about me because you read my file.” 

“A thick file,” he corrected. “If you help me, I can have one of my hacker friends wipe your file clean so you and Soldat can live happily ever after. That is, if he remembers you.”

The urge to slap that stupid smirk off of his face was strong and made my hand twitch at my side yet I weighed his words heavily on my mind. This was technically the way out I needed and now that I finally had the chance to do it, it would be stupid not to take it. 

Right?

“If you were to help me, something tells me I would owe you something?”

Something shone in The Crow's eyes but his next words didn’t match that glimmer. 

“We both get a way out of a life we had no say in. Consider us even,” he spoke while walking past me into the kitchen. 

Reluctantly I followed him and for the first time since stepping inside, the smell of a warm cooked meal filled my senses and my stomach roared to life. On the table were two plates, two cups, and silverware. 

“Are you fine with chicken and potatoes?” The Crow asked over his shoulder as he pulled out a large dish from the oven. 

I blinked at him a few times, trying to gather my words. “How the hell did you get the oven to work? Half of this shit didn’t work the last time Fury and I were held up here.” 

With his back to me, I could see the muscles tense as he moved about the kitchen, getting things ready for dinner and I bit my lip at the sight. 

“I’m good with my hands,” he answered while setting the dish down on the table. “Go wash up and we can talk more about the details.” 

Very briefly, I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his neck as he scratched at it, lifting down his shirt slightly. 

“I never said yes,” I reminded him while popping my hip out, showcasing my attitude. 

“The way you haven’t blown me to ash yet shows me that you already agreed. So again I say, go wash up and we can go over the details. I have a hunch where Soldat is hiding out.” 

As much as he irritated me, I knew that I’d be nowhere without The Crow. I had nothing on Soldat, so as much as I hated to admit it, I needed his help. 

“Fine,” I forced out through gritted teeth and turned swiftly on my heels but halted when he called after me. 

“What did Hydra call you?” 

“There’s no way I’m giving you my name. I don’t even know you,” I tossed over my shoulder. 

Something in the way he smirked told me he already knew my name due to his hacking but gave me the benefit of the doubt to tell him myself. 

Dropping my shoulders with a sigh, I gave in. “During my time in Hydra I went by Căzut but now I go by Fallen.” 

“I know,” The Crow smirked. “I just wanted to see if you trusted me enough to tell me.” 

“Does this mean you’re going to tell me your name? And not the stupid moniker Hydra assigned you,” I gave him a small smile but dropped it when I noticed the way his face fell. 

“I don’t know my name. I’ve only ever gone by The Crow.” 

Ignoring the pain I felt for him in my heart, I tapped my chin in mock thought before snapping, a spark igniting. “You look like an Eric to me.” 

“Eric,” he repeated the name a few times, almost like he was trying on a new pair of pants. “I like it.” 

“Good because it stays,” I ruffled his hair before leaving him alone in the kitchen as I skipped upstairs. 

When I left the SHIELD headquarters this morning, I had no intention of working with someone on finding Soldat but something in the way Eric smiled at me told me that he was the same as me in a lot of different ways. So if I had to deal with him for a few days in my search for Soldat, it was worth it. It helped that he was good to look at as well. 

“This is going to be a long few days,” I mumbled under my breath as I took the steps up towards the one bedroom of the house. 

The bedroom Eric seemed to have taken over. The same bedroom with only one bed. 

Son of a bitch. 

[alovesreading]

'tis the damn season | Part 1

Summary: Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Word count: 16.5k

Warnings: a bit of ansgt. well more than just a bit. @imagine-that-100 and @kennedy-brooke have made it very clear to warn you that they cried (a lot) to this so here's your warning to read this at your own discretion. i promise I'll make it up to you in the next part lol

A/N: Last month I made a poll here to see which Ross fic everyone wanted to see next (since people were asking for more Ross and I had a few fics plotted out but didn't know which to write first) and this one won by a few votes. So here it is, a bit shit and a bit angsty but I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Part 2

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Slowly but surely, Ross MacDonald had made his way into your heart all those years ago.

And it all could be traced back to Christmas day 2002, when an act of kindness set the tone for a friendship that had been silently brewing between the two of you.

You had moved to Wilmslow as soon as you finished Year 8 and the anticipation for the start of Year 9 in a new school had been dreadful.

Thankfully, moving in had kept you and your parents busy enough to hide away in your new house as you waited for the first day of school to arrive.

Your parents hadn’t even pushed you to go out and make friends throughout the horrendously hot weeks of August for they allowed you to settle in the new house—they knew how badly you coped with change, and they were at least being kind enough to leave you to your own devices before school started. You kept your days busy by burying your nose in the few books you’d managed to keep after convincing your mom not to donate the entirety of your bookshelves.

But far too soon, the first day of school loomed on you and the first week at Wilmslow high school had been atrocious.

You kept to yourself like you always did, however, this time, it was an exaggerated amount. But you just felt so out of place, you couldn’t help it.

You’d look up at the sky with a pained expression every time during lunch, when you would finish yet another chapter of a book you’d read over and over since you’d gotten it, asking why? Just why would your parents make you move to a new town, and start from scratch at a new school when you were halfway through high school?

By Year 9, everyone’s friend groups were settled, the last year of school when everyone felt carefree enough to enjoy every single day before having to choose and start working towards getting their GCSEs.

So you felt like a proper outsider, not really welcome, like a new organism trying to push their way into an established ecosystem. And you hated it so much. It only pushed you further into your shell, making you want to disappear and remain under the shadows as you walked through the hallways to get to class, recoiling into yourself when hearing the loud chatter and laughter going on around you, failing horrendously at even smiling when people would make eye contact with you.

You were at least glad that you could walk home to and from school. The few minutes of silence and peace were something you cherished a lot now; the thudding of your leather shoes against the pavement lulling your thoughts as you made your way to the building that you were starting to dread seeing on the daily.

The second week had brought a surprise when you were halfway through yet another read of ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ and a group of girls approached you. You’d flinched when one of them spoke up as they sat around you in a menacing circle.

“S’a bit of a sad read for such a lovely day, no?”

The girl had been kind enough to let out a genuine giggle by the end of her lighthearted words so you braved up enough to put your book down softly and offer her a half smile. You had managed to joke back, a reference to the book that the three girls thankfully caught and then, with an ease that soothed your soul, you found yourself making your first few friends by talking about the books you loved so much.

As the days went by and you found yourself surprised when having people to share lunch with and greet when you got to school, you were sure this was as far as you’d get to with your luck. And, in all honesty, you were grateful. You had never been one to have loads of friends, and even with the few you’d made throughout the years, you knew you weren’t lucky to form strong bonds like everyone else did at your age.

So when you were walking down the roads that lead you to school, the last thing that you were expecting was for the boy who startled your silent and peaceful walk to become your very best friend.

Ross had seen you around school a few times by the end of the first week and the talk about the mysterious new girl had been doing rounds enough for his curiosity to be piqued, when he saw you walking into the house down the road from his house at the start of the second week of the school year.

He had made an effort waking up at a reasonable time and leaving for school way earlier than he always did every morning then, to see if he could catch up with you.

There wasn’t really a plan, there was just his growing curiosity to know about the girl who lived on the opposite corner of the road, the one who walked a block ahead of him every morning and got to school a minute before him, being whisked away by three girls that you gave the honour to see your smile unlike the rest of the students who crossed you through the halls.

One morning in particular, when Ross had just been annoyed at himself for missing you every damn time he walked out of his house, he decided to rush his steps until he reached you. Stumbling the last few and successfully startling you when he managed to catch up to you about a few minutes before you’d get to school.

His mind went blank when you looked at him expectantly for a few seconds, nothing but the birds chirping around you and the sound of cars driving down the roads enveloped you as you waited for a reasoning behind his sudden appearance.

But Ross gave you nothing but a dimpled smile and offered his hand out for you to shake.

Your grip was firm and the smile that broke on your face was as sweet as the ones you gave your new friends.

He foolishly hoped that meant you were friends now, but just to be sure of it, he let you know his name.

“Ross,” he started a bit shaky, clearing his throat before adding, “MacDonald.”

The chortle you gave at his formality made a pinkish blush creep up from his neck to his cheeks.

The sight made you smile a bit harder.

“Y/N,” your voice made him melt. “Y/L/N. If the full legal name is really needed.”

He shook his head at himself, snorting out in laughter and dropping your hand softly. He clenched his fingers in a fist and then loosened it when his arm fell to his side. Even though the day was warm and he didn’t like it at all with the horrendously suffocating uniform they had to wear, he found himself not minding the warmth that holding your hand had brought.

Frowning at the thought, he fell silent just like you did and followed as you resumed your walk.

That was the first day you walked to school together.

Every morning after that, he ran to catch up to you and walk together to school. And little by little, your conversations elongated and you two shared more about yourselves to each other as the days went by.

“So who’s that girl then?” Matty asked one day after seeing you and Ross part ways at the entrance of the school.

Ross tensed at the line of questioning, especially at Matty’s tone and the way he wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“Just my neighbour,” he said almost dismissively. “We walk the same way to school so I bump into her sometimes.”

It wasn’t in bad nature though, he just wanted to keep the details of you that you kept hidden for everyone else to himself. It wasn’t selfish, Ross convinced himself, just giving you the chance to open up to Matty if you ever decided to do that.

But the curly headed boy knew well enough he hadn’t seen you before when he’d come over to the MacDonald’s residence, and he also knew very well that Ross walked into school with you daily. Sometimes my arse.

“Don’t remember seeing her around when I’ve come over to yours.”

Ross held back a huff but he freely let himself roll his eyes, “She’s just moved into the house on the other side of the road from mine.”

Matty hummed, smirking as he looked around until his gaze fell on you, “She’s fit.”

You were laughing with your friends, chatting excitedly as you sorted through your bag and pulled out a book.

Ross frowned at Matty’s comment but not because he disagreed, he actually wholeheartedly thought his friend was right, but because he didn’t like it coming from him.

“Maybe you should introduce us to the other,” Matty added with a cheeky grin when he saw the expression on Ross’ face. “Be a good mate and play cupid for me, MacDonald.”

Ross scoffed loudly at the forward suggestion from his friend. It was settled then, telling Matty you lived in the same road as him and that you’d just moved into town was enough for him to know.

He kept to himself what your favourite movie was, which album you’d last become obsessed with, the names of your friends back home who you didn’t talk to anymore now that you’d moved, how you had broken your arm at five years old in the playground and had put stickers all over your pink cast to show it off at school. Ross definitely wouldn’t tell him how that book had been lent to you by Danielle, one of your new friends, and how you’d stayed up until three in the morning reading it so you had spent half your trip up to school yawning and rubbing your eyes.

Yup. He would definitely keep it all to himself.

And so he did. He kept every bit of yourself that you shared with him to himself and himself only. And along with all those little facts about you, he also kept to himself the way he perked up every time he saw you slowly walking down the pavement, the warmth that spread through him when he saw you smile at him.

He would frown at himself in the mirror when he thought about it at home. He was thirteen years old, there were so many things much more important than thinking about how pretty you were or how your smile made him all gooey inside. He huffed every time, convincing himself he was just being objective and not developing a crush. He liked you as a friend and that was it. He had much more important matters than his feelings, which he definitely didn’t have.

But after the half term break, there was a change that made his stubborn thoughts falter.

He walked out of his house ready to see your figure already ahead of him, ready to power walk his way up to you.

But he saw no one but the trees and bushes lining the road and he deflated instantly.

He thought about walking up to your front door and knocking, asking if you’d gotten ill and you weren’t going to school. He pondered about what could’ve happened as he walked, eyes down as he went over the possibilities.

So he didn’t see you sitting on the step of your front door, waiting for him to walk by.

Taking in his distracted complexion, you decided to startle him right before he walked past your mum’s car.

A loud and slightly high pitched yell stumbled out of his mouth, and you somehow overpowered the sound with a loud fit of laughter that certainly felt like a nice apology for the scare.

You wouldn’t stop giggling about it as you walked to school, somehow managing to make him laugh along despite embarrassment tinting his cheeks red. Ross had never heard you laugh this much in his presence so he’d let you indulge in it, and when he did, you let yourself grow more comfortable around him.

He felt it from the way you’d now wait for him to walk by sitting on the step of your front door every morning, and how you’d greet him with a smile and an excited, “Hey!” He felt it from the way you’d lean into him as you walked, how you’d nudge his hip with yours when you’d tease him.

Just like you had done one day when you asked about the band.

“So he got promoted, huh?”

Your question had been thrown out into the chilly air of early November, suddenly and without context, so Ross looked at you confused and asked, “Who?”

His group of friends and yours didn’t really share much at all. Whilst you and your friends shared the growing love for books and films, you knew Ross was in a band with some of his friends and they were always messing about, playing video games or going to the skate park, if they were not recording themselves covering songs like the Ghostbusters theme song, which you’d seen on myspace, or just rehearsing in someone’s garage.

So you knew a little about the band from the few videos that went around the school, seeing them hidden away in the music room at school sometimes, or just the talk going around the halls. It was exactly the gossip which had brought the piece of information to your attention and you’d been curious about what had gotten Elliot, some lad who sang for their band, to quit in the middle of rehearsal and left that job open for his friend, who you knew played the drums, to take it.

“Your friend, the one with the curly hair and glasses? Used to be on the drums until a few days ago no? Or so the chatter going ‘round says.”

Recognition melted the frown away from his face, “Oh Matty? Yeah, yeah. We got George in the band now. T’was sorta logistically impossible to have Matty singing and on the drums at the same time. He had to do one thing at a time for it to properly work.”

You hummed, cocking your head as you took in the information. It made sense. “How’s that arrangement going on then?”

“Erm, well he likes being up on the front. The attention and all.” Ross joked a little, even though it was mostly true.

You snorted out in laughter, “Yeah I bet.”

He hummed as if asking for you to elaborate.

“He looks like he likes attention. Not a bad thing, just–” you stuttered as you tried to look for the words, settling for, “It’s funny to watch, s’all."

Ross snorted as he nodded, “It is.”

Already seeing Jodie, Sarah and Danielle waiting for you by the school entrance, you turned to look at him and offered him a cheeky grin to play, “Good luck with that then, MacDonald. Don’t let him steal your spotlight too much.”

It was things like that that you’d say that would stay with him for days in the forefront of his mind. Weeks swirling around his subconscious and keeping him up at night, nothing really came from thinking about them so much, only the need to spend more and more time with you but he had no clue how or when to even suggest that.

The need only grew stronger when the holiday break came around and Ross hadn’t seen you in five days. Sure, two of those were the weekend but he had only really endured going without seeing you on the weekends, reuniting with your voice and your smile and your laughter the following Monday.

So Ross had been thinking about how he could even come around to seeing you during the holidays. Especially since it was actually Christmas day.

He could knock on your door, easily, but then what would he do? Was he coming over just to say hello? What if one of your parents answered the door? What was he trying to do? What excuse could he have?

Turns out, he didn’t have to think of an excuse because as he walked back home from Matty’s, Ross found you grumpily walking back home too.

He called out your name in the distance and thankfully, you heard him enough to turn around to see him and stop in your tracks.

It wasn’t until he was next to you that he said, “Why the long face? It’s Christmas.”

You could hear the hint of playfulness in his voice, but the annoyance that filled you mixed with a bit of sadness so you couldn’t find it in yourself to play along.

Instead, you sighed and shoved your gloved hands back inside your coat’s pockets. Shivering, you replied, “I know. There’s always a Grinch though, no?”

He nudged your hip with his, a smirk tugging on the corners of his mouth as he joked, “Doubt you’ve just stolen all the village’s gifts.”

When you only gave him a soft chuckle that got lost in the sound of the wind, he turned serious and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath so you didn’t let it get to you again, you took a second before explaining, “Mum’s forgotten to buy the potatoes and sent me out on the impossible quest of finding some at a quarter past four on the 25th of December.”

Ross gave you a soft, understanding smile then. “Ah, so no potatoes acquired.”

“Not one,” you mumbled in despair, shivering again when a cold rush of wind blew the hoodie off your head.

He had to hold himself back from throwing his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into him. All to help you get warm, of course. But he thought against it at the last second, instead thinking about what he could do to help.

“You know, me mum always buys way more than needed. It’s only us three so she definitely has some to spare.”

Horrified at the thought of taking from what should be his Christmas dinner, you quickly dismissed his suggestion. “No, Ross. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter.”

But Ross wouldn’t accept no for an answer. Kissing his teeth as he shook his head, he nudged your hip again, a cheeky grin on his face, “C’mon Y/N, today’s all about giving, is it not?”

Damn him and that dimpled smile that made it so easy for you to smile back. You hummed as you pressed your lips, trying not to beam at him too brightly but letting him win, “I guess it is.”

It was strange walking up the road and past your house. You had waited outside but still gasped under your breath at the glimpse of his house all decorated when he walked in through the door. When he closed the door behind him as his mum peeked her head out of the kitchen door, you sighed out in relief. Yes, he was your friend now but you were far too shy to go in and meet his parents only to take their potatoes.

Your cheeks and neck warmed with a flush that went all through your body when you thought about how he’d be telling his mum about the vegetables. God, how fucking embarrassing. You were cursing your mum’s forgetfulness in your mind when Ross walked back out, a bag of potatoes in hand.

You wanted earth to open up and swallow you whole.

But when that didn’t happen, you accepted the bag with a genuine smile and thanked Ross profusely. He said it was alright over and over but your mind was going over how you could repay it already.

An idea sparked in your head just as he was waving off yet another thank you that stumbled out of your lips, so with a sudden hurry, you wished him and his family a merry Christmas and walked back home.

A handful of hours later, you were back at his door. This time with your hands full, holding a tray of way too many Christmas cookies for three people.

“Special delivery?” You muttered softly, holding up the tray towards Ross as he peeled the door open further when seeing it was you.

He walked out, brave enough to face the bitter cold of the night without a proper coat. In just a beige knitted sweater, he rubbed his hands to warm them as he frowned, “What’s this?”

“Cookies, of course,” you replied with sarcasm dripping thick from your words. Ross glared at you, unimpressed by your answer and making you sigh, correcting yourself, “A thank you.”

“I told you it was alright.”

You knew he meant it but when you came back home, bag of potatoes in hand, your mum had gasped in surprise at you actually managing to get them. Not allowing her to get excited about being right about maybe the corner shop being open, you let your annoyance be known as you told her what had actually happened: you’d walked to the shops in the freezing cold for no reason because they were all closed like you very much knew they’d be, but Ross had been the one to give her the bag of vegetables. Just like you’d been thinking of doing already, your mum suggested making something extra to send over to Ross’ family as a thank you.

So here you were, with a double batch of sprinkled sugar cookies that you’d just taken out of the oven about twenty minutes before, standing in front of the MacDonald’s home, trying to get Ross to accept a humble—and quite tasty—offering as a thank you for his help.

“Well today’s about giving, isn’t it Ross?”

He couldn’t help but smile when hearing you use his very own words to push him into gracefully accepting the sweet treats. And so the only way to answer was by using your very own answer from earlier, “I guess it is.”

“Then take them, please.”

Truth be told, you had gotten to work on them quickly after going back home. It was a recipe you knew by heart so it wasn’t hard for you to make batch after batch. Your parents had been happily having some with hot chocolate whilst you’d come to deliver Ross the cookies you’d made for him and his family.

Ross smiled brightly, “Thank you, you’re a sweetheart.”

Your cheeks had warmed at the pet name, he’d never referred to you any other way than your name.

It was to be expected that the stupid smile on your face didn’t leave you until you went to sleep that night, and you’d been replaying him calling you that in your mind over and over.

You didn’t really see him after Christmas, not even on New Year’s Eve or New Year’s day, so you had to wait for the first day back at school to see him. To hear his voice, watch that infectious smile of his break on his face.

But on Monday, you waited for him far too long, sat on the step by your front door until it got late. You had walked to school alone, quickly and panicking as you tried not to be late but also worried about what could’ve happened with him.

Everything was alright though, Ross had just stupidly slept in until his mum startled him out of bed when he was already running late. He’d gotten dressed in record time, and basically ran to school and barely made it. There wasn’t any sense of relief overcoming him when he made it just in time, he was filled with dread after having missed your daily morning walk together, the one he’d been looking forward to since he’d gotten a taste of those cookies you made—he had basically hoarded them and left his parents only a handful to eat, they all had reached the conclusion that you’d done amazingly with the cookies and that it had been incredibly sweet of you to drop them off for them; so he really needed to tell you all that.

To his dismay, Ross didn’t see you at all throughout the day. So when the school day was over and everyone spilled out of the building, he rushed outside to catch you before you left for home.

In the distance, you heard him yell out your name and even your friends froze in their places beside you.

They smirked when you all turned around to see him clumsily breaking through the crowd to get to you, wiggles of their eyebrows and widening eyes letting you know that they were definitely curious about what was going on for your ‘walking-to-school buddy’, as they’d nicknamed him, to be so desperate to find you.

Waving them off and forcing them to say goodbye, you walked away from them and tilted your head slightly so Ross would follow you along as you started walking away from school.

The apology was imminent, you just didn’t know it would come this quickly, “M’so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t hear my alarm and slept in.” He took a deep breath when he got to your side and added, “Mum had to wake me up, fucking hell. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten dressed this quickly in my life.”

You laughed at him, the way his eyes flashed with dread at the recount of his morning.

He continued explaining, for no reason other than feeling like you deserved the whole truth behind it, “We got fucking plastered on New Year’s at Matty’s. Fully had to take a few days to recover from that nightmare of a hangover, but I’m still feeling rough so I just kept sleeping.”

Another string of giggles fell from your lips, “Right.”

Despite still being very sure of wanting to keep Matty away from you, Ross couldn’t help but suggest, “You should come along next year. You’d enjoy yourself.” He had been thinking about how it could’ve been with you there the whole time—or at least until he blacked out—, wishing he had invited you over. So he did just that, but just in case, he added, “Plus the guys are funny, even though they can be really obnoxious.”

Amused, you looked at him with raised brows and a cheeky grin, “I think Adam should be exempt from that.”

You had met Adam at school, he had been kind enough to say hello one day in the halls knowing that you were one of Ross’ friends, and he’d been really sweet chatting to you from time to time when you bumped into him around school. He definitely was nothing like Matty or George, who you’d seen causing ruckus around the place a fair few times.

At the dig, Ross asked, “What about me?”

But you tried taunting him by ignoring his inquiry and saying, “I'll be counting down the next 365 days,” successfully accepting his invitation over to Matty’s for the welcome of the next year.

Frozen in his place, his mouth fell agape at your blatant dismissal of his words, and so you left him behind with a chuckle, continuing walking towards your house.

From behind you, you heard him ask again, a bit louder this time, “Oi! What about me?”

You just laughed, shaking your head and not turning to see him. He had run up to you and poked your side as payback, making you squeal in surprise.

Your laughter hadn’t stopped until you were almost halfway to your house and answering his question had been long forgotten.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The weeks that followed that first Christmas had seen you and Ross becoming proper friends and causing a domino effect on the mixing of your friend groups. Friendships bloomed easily when everyone started hanging out together thanks to you and Ross wanting to share more time together other than your walks to and from school.

It was an odd group of people, but you managed to bring out different sides of each other and it was pure laughter and joy every time.

Before you knew it, birthdays, half term breaks, weekends, Halloweens, and evenings after school were spent with you all together. Messing about, watching the guys rehearse in Matty’s garage, being front row in every gig they played, helping each other study for your GCSEs, coming over to watch films and sneaking out to the skatepark.

But when December came around and school had closed for Holiday break, you realised that it was that time of the year that would become your absolute favourite.

For Christmas 2003, you had made sure to make something for his family again. After Ross had told you how much his family had enjoyed the cookies you’d made, you wanted to surprise them with something again; even if this year you’d made sure your mum didn’t forget a single thing for your Christmas dinner so you weren’t asking for something back from the MacDonalds.

You had made a glorious batch of Yorkshire pudding that Ross and his parents enjoyed thoroughly with their gravy. You’d told your mum how surprised and grateful your neighbours had been for the treat, and you were secretly hoping Ross would come knocking on your door to tell you how they found your cooking but you had been the one surprised instead when Ross had come over on Boxing day morning with a delicious English trifle that his mum made as a thank you.

After having a healthy portion of dessert, you had basically dragged Ross upstairs to show him the presents you had gotten that year, and he had enjoyed every second with a silly grin on his face.

He hadn’t missed a beat to invite you over to his house so he could show you what he had gotten that year. But you hadn’t been allowed to leave before your mum could take a few pictures of you and Ross with the brand new Polaroid camera your dad had spoiled her with that year.

Her obsession with hanging mistletoe had ended up with Ross kissing your cheek for a picture after your mum had cheekily pointed out you were standing right below it.

You had felt the burning imprint of his lips on the skin of your cheek for hours as you were thrown on his bed admiring the beauty of his new bass, hearing him tune the instrument and practise the songs he knew how to play so well with what he had been obnoxiously referring to as his new ‘baby’.

That afternoon you had gone to Matty’s house, the rest of your friend group arrived shortly after you and Ross, and soon enough you started exchanging the gifts you’d gotten each other. The presents weren’t big or something too special, you all had to make due with your pocket money, but it had brought you so much happiness to see everyone’s reactions to what the other’s had gotten for them.

The days in between Boxing day and New Year’s Eve had been spent with either you over at Ross’ house or him over at yours.

By then, it wasn’t odd to spend time at each other’s houses, watching films and eating chips or helping each other with homework and studying. But the cold December had assured that every time you fell asleep as you watched a film in your room or his, you’d wake up cuddling tightly to keep warm.

It was a drastic change to wake up with your limbs tangled together instead of your heads resting on the other’s shoulder like it had happened before. So the first time it had happened, the two of you had jumped away from the other like you’d just been shocked by electricity. The truth was that a buzz had gone through your body to every single one of your nerve endings and you both had felt it, it was obvious in the foolish grins that you tried to hide as you apologised to each other.

But it was tempting to get lost in the feeling, and it proved impossible for you to have the heart to stop it from happening when you woke up resting on Ross’ chest, his arms around your waist to keep you in place and your legs tangled together.

You had blinked awake and seen the situation in which you were stuck in, and despite knowing it would be best to peel yourself away from him as your heartbeat grew louder in your ears, you just couldn’t do it.

Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall back asleep and leave the decision for Ross to make. Yet, he had felt you stir in his hold and it only took him a few seconds to wake up.

He groaned lowly and you felt your face heat up at the sound rumbling through his chest under your cheek. This was definitely not helping you ignore the way his presence had started making you fluster and get giddy every time, not helping the need to spend all of your time with him; definitely not helping your thoughts from going to a conversation with your friends who were willing to bet that you had a crush on Ross.

Softly you apologised and went to push yourself away from him, but Ross held you tighter and shook his head, half lidded eyes that fought against his sleepy haze on you with determination.

“Don’t. You’re so cosy.”

It was clearer than ever that you couldn’t say no to him and it made you curse at yourself in your mind.

By the time New Year’s Eve came, you and Ross had made it a habit to cuddle whenever either of you was at the other’s house, and with the cuddles came the need to have the other close at all times.

Therefore, you were glued to each other for the entirety of Matty’s house party. Even when one of you ran to the bathroom to be sick—yes, one if not the both of you, would definitely be shit faced before midnight—, the other was there to help.

When the countdown happened, you would laugh at the crowd of drunk teenagers trying to properly sync up to the clock. And when midnight struck, you’d all go around the room to clumsily hug everyone and wish them a happy new year.

And, of course, when you would wake up after knocking out on one of the settees, you’d be cuddling Ross tightly into you like you had grown used to doing in the past couple of days.

When the holiday season of 2004 came around, everything you had done the year before had become a tradition. From making something for the other’s family to spending the lazy morning of Boxing day together, walking over to Matty’s house side by side with the gifts for your friends in hand, spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve together and then going over to the Healy’s residence to get pissed as you welcomed the new year.

You found yourself wishing for every year to be the same.

Your heart swelled in your chest when December 2005 loomed around the corner, and your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled when your traditions continued just the same during Holiday break.

Another recipe was made as you tried to impress the MacDonalds, another picture of kisses on cheeks was added to the collection, another handful of presents bought for your friends, another show and tell of your gifts thrown for Ross, many more movies watched as you nuzzled in his neck, another countdown shouted with your best of friends, another hangover cured with Ross’ help.

But everything was slightly different this time around, for 2006 meant that this would be your last Holiday season at home before you were off to university. And though you were definitely coming back home to celebrate the Holidays every year, it was different enough to make it a proper last celebration.

That meant Ross and his parents coming over for Christmas dinner at your house.

“Wish we had done this sooner,” you tell Ross as you cut pieces of the sticky toffee pudding you made earlier today.

He hums beside you, sliding a plate closer to you so you could place the first piece down, “Me too.”

It’s hard not to be nostalgic already when you’re all chatting and laughing together, your chest feels heavy as you long for a memory in the making, one that you know you will cherish forever, even if you don’t have to because you’re sure you won’t ever have to spend the Christmas holidays without Ross—you’re determined to never let that happen.

Everyone sitting around the table showers you in compliments for the delicious dessert you’ve made, Ross’ mum asking for the recipe while everyone else asks for seconds.

“Can I get a double serving, sweetheart? You know, since I’m your favourite person here.”

You roll your eyes at him, but Ross knows far too well that you can’t say no to him. Not when he calls you that.

He could admit that sometimes he uses the pet name selfishly, but most of the time is just to see how you squirm under his gaze, completely unable to keep your cool.

Ross thinks you’re so fucking cute.

He has been for a while. And that crush he knew he had on you, only grew stronger and deeper the more days he spent in your presence.

Matty had said once that Ross was in love with you and the bassist had never been more grateful that his best mate had at least waited until you were out of hearing distance for him to point that out.

But that comment swirled in the back of Ross’ head ever since it had fallen from Matty’s lips and it echoed loudly in his mind when you were near him, and it got horrendously louder when you were cuddling or hugging him.

Just like you are right now as you pose for your mum’s camera.

That Polaroid which had been the reason for your growing collection of pictures with you and Ross as the main focus of the frame. From your birthday pictures to pictures your mum had sneakily taken when the two of you fell asleep on the settee, pictures of you in your fancy dresses before you were off to a house party for Halloween and all of your Christmas pictures throughout the years.

Your arms are wrapped around Ross’ waist, one of his hands over your hands as if to keep you there and his other arm over your shoulder. The smiles are wide on your faces for the first picture but you know what’s happening next. Like clockwork, Ross is pressing his lips on your cheek for the yearly kiss picture you take under the mistletoe that hangs above you.

Mockingly, really.

Because Ross has long gotten tired of kissing your cheek, he wants to kiss you properly under the mistletoe and has been wanting to since the second time your mum made the two of you pose for pictures under the hanging arrangement of little branches. He remembered the twinkling lights around your house reflecting on your pretty eyes and he was gone; his lips itched to press on yours but he had held back, only because your mum was always right there.

But this time the obnoxious whirring of the empty camera alerts you all that the film has run out and your mum excuses herself to make a dash upstairs and get a new pack, warning you to stay right there for her.

You loosen up your embrace and let your arms fall limply on your sides to give Ross his space until your mum is back but he frowns as he looks at you and scorns, “Where are you going?”

It isn’t like you are leaving though, you’re staying right beside him but letting him free for a minute or two because you know how annoying your mum can get about pictures and how, despite his lack of comment on it, he only just tolerates it.

“She’s gonna take a while. We’ll pose again when she’s back.”

He huffs under his breath because he really didn’t want you to stop hugging him. But he takes the moment to look up the stairs as the noise of your mum making a clutter in her room as she looks for her film bounces down the halls and reaches the two of you. A loud ‘for fucks sake’ is heard from upstairs and your best friend hears you snort beside him.

Just when he was about to look back at you, Ross catches a glimpse of the neatly hung arrangement of mistletoe and, now really aware of the fact that your mum is out of sight and both your dads are heavily engrossed in conversation far away from where you stand, he knows this is the moment he’s been wishing for.

The feeling of his hands coming up to your face surprises you, but what’s more surprising is seeing him slowly leaning into you and you do nothing to stop it.

How could you stop it? When it’s something you’ve been thinking about obsessively for months now. The feelings that he brought you only heightened with time and you didn’t do anything about it other than keep it to yourself and sigh endlessly as you thought about him every day when you were alone in your room, writing everything down on your battered old diary.

Ross pauses when your noses brush, your breaths mixing with him this close to you and he’s about to ask when you just nod, almost missable if his forehead wasn’t pressed against yours and the movement causes his own head to move.

That was all he needed to close the distance and your heart explodes in your chest when his lips press against yours and his stubble itches your face as he starts to move his mouth on yours.

It’s quick because your mum’s footsteps coming quickly down the hall startle the two of you away from each other, but the kiss is enough to assure you two that the crushes you had on each other are much more than that.

And your mum captures the foolish smiles on your faces when that notion becomes apparent to you and Ross. This time, a kiss falls on Ross’ cheeks and your mum coos loudly at the dimpled loopy smile that breaks on his face.

You don’t say anything, because you really don’t know what can be said, and Ross doesn’t either, so you go on about the rest of the night like nothing’s happened. But the ache in your cheeks from how much you two are grinning dares to say otherwise.

Neither of you says a thing when the night’s wrapped up and you say goodbye. Ross really has to hold back from stealing another kiss from your lips when he hugs you goodbye, the attentive gaze of your and his parents posing a burden for his growing need to do that again.

But even the next morning, he’s wary of trying his luck again and, since you’re expecting him to make the first move again, you stop yourself from getting your hopes up and put it down to him just getting excited about standing under the mistletoe. After all, it is the rules of that tradition. So yes, you’re blaming it all on the mistletoe and you hope that singular word is enough of a bandaid on the little crack of your heart.

Yet, the heartache that the rest of Boxing day brings is a different and much stronger one when you and your friends are all splayed around Matty’s living room with sad smiles on your faces after having exchanged presents.

“It’s okay. We’re all coming back every Christmas and it’ll never change,” says Danielle, hoping that saying it aloud makes it become real.

The weight of the fact that half of you will be leaving town in September and it will all change, because growing up has been something none of you could avoid and life moves on, and unfortunately you have to move on too.

It’s somehow harder knowing that it’s you moving away. Matty had managed to convince the guys’ parents that the band was going to be a thing, something huge in no time, and therefore getting Adam and Ross to stay in Wilmslow—George was still dealing with his GCSEs, but even he wasn’t planning on doing his A Levels and going off to uni.

The thought of leaving everyone else behind, once again, makes you shake from anxiety when you think too much about it.

Losing all these people is enough of a nightmare to make your eyes well up with tears, ones you struggle to keep from spilling down your cheeks when everyone promises to be back every Christmas, speaking out what their plans will be for when the time comes.

Ross throws his arm around your shoulders when he hears you sniffle, hugging you into his side. That’s enough for you to start crying and in a matter of seconds everyone is suffocating you in a group hug.

It’s settled then that everyone is gonna make the most out of the rest of the week and your annual New Year’s Eve house party will be one to remember, to part with the best memories and only make the following years even better.

And you do just that.

Instead of spending the days leading up to New Year’s Eve with Ross, the rest of your friend group sticks together and you all spend the days in different houses, watching movies, messing about, playing video games. A few afternoons you all escape to the skatepark and hide away to smoke or drink, enjoying the last bits of the togetherness that you have a bad feeling will be broken despite the promises.

When the 31st of December approaches, and you walk into Matty’s house with Ross behind you, you gasp seeing the scene set up for the night.

There’s much more alcohol than needed for how many of you there will be, rolled spliffs on the coffee table ready for anyone to smoke, an unnecessary amount of snacks that you know will do absolutely no help to help you from getting pissed quickly.

You’re grateful you ate enough to survive a few hours of drinking before blacking out, if it even gets to that point. Unfortunately, George can’t say the same because by the time everyone has arrived at Matty’s, he’s already stumbling around the place with those silly giggles of his stumbling out at absolutely everything around him.

Everyone else followed, knocking back drink after drink and smoking to their heart’s content until there’s nothing but loud laughter and yelling, and the place is trashed by careless teenage behaviour.

It’s wild to say the least, everyone is on the verge of losing memory of the night with every shot and puff they take, the drinking games do not help in the slightest and George has been picked up from having passed out on the bushes twice already.

No one really is sober enough to care about the countdown. Matty and George being the menacing duo they are when intoxicated are entertaining everyone inside with the shit they spout, everyone’s eyes are on them like they’re the most captivating clowns anyone has ever seen, getting loud laughs from everyone.

But despite the amount you and Ross have drank, you’ve got enough grasp on your logic to walk out and close the door behind you, ready to watch the fireworks go off as everyone greets the new year.

Ross lights up a cigarette beside you and takes a long drag with an ease that makes you roll your eyes. You’ve always struggled when smoking with them, trying to take a drag of a spliff always ended with you erupting in a horrendous fit of coughs that end up hurting your chest, you were a bit better with cigarettes, only that meant you coughed a little less and you could take multiple drags of it instead of just the one.

He still offers you it, knowing that since you’re drunk you are most likely to crave a puff or two. Your fingers pluck it out of his accompanied with a soft, “Thanks.” that he smiles at.

As expected, you cough when the smoke hits the back of your throat but you don’t give it back, you hold your breath to stop yourself from coughing and try again. This time it burns way less so you can let the smoke go down until you can relish in the feeling and then let it out upwards.

Ross is staring at you with glistening eyes, fighting a grin that wants to break on his face just from seeing you like this. He finds even the most mundane things you do so incredibly endearing, it’s tragic how much of a hold you have on him and he just can’t stop it nor does he want to.

Yet, the real tragedy is that he doesn’t know exactly what to do. He knows what he wants to do: kiss you and cuddle you, hold your hand in school, have you close to him all the time; but he has no idea how to make that happen.

And time is ticking now, your imminent goodbye looming on him like a dark cloud in the horizon and he can’t help but think it might be stupid to risk your friendship selfishly when it’s soon that you’ll be gone.

But when everyone inside starts counting down in a horribly loud and drunk choir, Ross is brought out of his head. There you stand in front of him, fingers holding out the cigarette for him to take, a smirk on your face as you wiggle the stick for him to take, and there’s only one thing that Ross is thinking.

After that taste on Christmas day, he can’t just let this opportunity go. Not when it’s set so perfectly for him to make the move.

Ten, nine, eight…

He steps right in front of you, plucking the cigarette out of your hand and tossing it to the ground before wrapping an arm around your waist, his right hand coming to cup your face.

Seven, six, five, four…

Your breath leaves you in a gasp, your mouth hanging open as he starts leaning in. Your gazes stuck on the other, pupils dilating as the moment you’ve been both thinking about for days seems to happen all over again.

Three, two, one…

His lips are on yours before everyone can even finish saying one, their loud “Happy New Years!” doesn’t even startle you out of it. The noise only makes his fingers dig harsher on your face and his mouth grows more intent on yours, tongue licking your bottom lip and with a breathy whimper, you welcome him by parting your mouth.

Your lungs burn after what feels like minutes, but you can’t be sure it isn’t your brain stretching time out like a string of melted candy. The only thing you can do is curse yourself for ruining your lungs' capacity by having a brief smoke; if you’d only known Ross would be stealing your breath with a kiss, you would have declined.

You pull back with a gasp, trying to take as much oxygen into your lungs, chest heaving with your ragged breaths.

Yet Ross is composed as he lets his eyes flutter close and presses his forehead against yours. Your heavy exhales hit his parted mouth, your noses brush, and you feel your heartbeats in your ears.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks and your body betrays you when you dip forward to join your mouths again.

It’s barely a kiss, more of a string of pecks that you manage to drop on his parted lips as you try puckering your lips in between trying to catch your breath.

Ross giggles breathily.

You stop, pulling back and looking into his eyes, “Happy New Year, Ross.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It was foolish of you to expect that university would be an easier change than moving towns in the middle of high school, yet you had held out hope that this time things would be easier; with your age and the aspirations you had, you expected all that to fuel you into fighting your struggles when change happened, but how wrong you were.

A miraculous day was one when you wouldn’t cry, staring at your phone as you tried to decide whether or not it would be a good idea to bug your parents once again, or if it was time to come clean to your friends back home about how you actually were feeling.

You never really made a decision. You felt guilty enough keeping this from your friends but you didn’t want to burden them with your stupid issues that all were rooted in your lack of ability to adapt to new places. Your parents were really the only ones who half knew how you were coping, but even then it was a very tame account of what you were really going through.

That is why you’re incredibly giddy now on the coach back home. You don’t even care about it being crowded and feeling way too observed by eyes you’ve never met, neither do you care about the smells around you nor the loud snoring coming from behind you.

All you can think of is how excited you are to be home during your favourite time of the year, to see your friends, to hug Ross so tightly you are sure it will rid you of all of your troubles.

You really wanted to see Ross.

It wasn’t like you never spoke on the phone but with your inability to cope with change, there were only a few evenings throughout the week when you weren’t sobbing your eyes out enough to deal with your academic responsibilities and then make calls back home.

So it was needless to say that you’ve been counting down the days until holiday break, and you just couldn’t wait to get to that road you had met Ross and run down to knock on his door and crush him in a hug.

Your knee bounces up and down as you think about all the things that have been going on back at home, how the world back there has kept spinning around without you and it makes your anxiety creep up your spine.

With a shake of your head, you force yourself to stop.

It’s okay. Everyone will be glad to see you and it’s gonna be as if you’d never left. It’ll be alright.

When your dad picks you up from the Manchester airport station, your smile breaks on your face. It has been so long since you’ve genuinely smiled that your cheeks start hurting shortly into your drive. Your heart slams against your ribcage, your fingers fiddle with the sleeves of your jumper, and your words tangle on the tip of your tongue as you try to chat with your dad.

You can’t wait to get home and feel some sense of normalcy, that familiarity you’ve been longing the very second you went away.

But, despite the warm welcome the familiar walls of your fully decorated house gives you, when Ross comes over, there’s a shift around you that makes you frown.

The unrelenting knocks on the front door have you dashing downstairs, and when you open it, your eyes widen and a gasp slips past your lips when seeing Ross standing in front of you, “Oh my god, hi!”

He envelopes you in a hug that makes a knot tie in your throat, and the sound of his voice would have pushed a sob out of you if it wasn’t for a correction that hit you like a gut punch, “Missed you so much swee– Y/N/N.”

The both of you tense in each other’s hold, impossible not to have missed the awkward correction. Your brows furrow as you look over his shoulder, not wanting to look at his face just yet because your confusion is clear on your face, but you try your best to sound unnerved when you reciprocate, “Yeah. Missed you too.”

A half smile is what you offer him when you pull back, and when he gives you a grin of his, you just want to scream seeing the dimples on his cheek after so long.

Yet, you can’t let yourself enjoy his presence fully when he walks into your house and he greets your parents, because all that you’re thinking about is why on Earth he could’ve stopped himself from calling you a pet name he’s used for you for years.

Your chest hurts already, thinking about a loss that you have no idea the reasoning behind. Little did you know, you would be mourning more losses with the days to come.

In the kitchen, your parents, Ross and yourself are all chatting and catching up over cups of hot chocolate. There’s laughter and smiles, loads of news about what’s been going on in Wilmslow while you’ve been gone, many more stories of the lads and another name the band had acquired.

Soon enough, your mum and dad leave to finish wrapping presents and leave you and Ross to catch up alone.

He’s helping you make cookies, the same ones you had made 5 years ago to thank him for the potatoes. And you can’t help but smile at the memories the two of you have made over the years during the Christmas season, heat creeping up your neck when remembering what had happened merely one year ago.

But you can’t relish too much on the ghostly feeling of his lips on yours because suddenly, he clears his throat and shyly starts talking about something he has been hiding from you for a bit.

“I, erm, met this girl in uni,” he trails off with a soft voice that makes you freeze in your spot. “She’s teaching history, like I do. She’s much smarter than I am, though.”

Ross laughs, that dimpled smile breaking on his now flushed face. All you can do to hide your surprise is chuckle along, breathy and not at all genuine.

And it seems like he takes your giggles as a seal of approval for he lets every thought about this mysterious girl out.

Her name is Katie and she’s the same age as you and Ross. They met the first day of classes when Ross was so confused about where he had been told to go, his inability to take his eyes off the papers in his hand had caused him to crash into her and, after gathering each other’s things which had fallen everywhere on the hall, they chatted enough to know they were both lost on their first day as teachers and they had been inseparable since then.

She has a brilliant memory and is an amazing teacher. Everyone adores her and Ross is still surprised she chooses to hang out with him most of the time. She’s pretty, gorgeous even from what you can see on her myspace page Ross shows you. She loves LCD Soundsystem and The Streets so she’s basically perfect. Added to the fact that she plays the guitar, and of course is quite good at skateboarding.

The bitter feeling rising up your throat burns a hole in your chest, like acid burning through your skin and bones.

“Can we change topics? Please?” You snap out, smacking your hands on the kitchen counter. “Not in the mood to hear about how perfect this girl is. I’m sure I’ll see how fucking wonderful she is when I have to meet her.”

A loud sigh follows your sudden outburst, and then silence falls. Each second hurts, the silence is far too loud and then dread falls on you, a heavy weight on your shoulders that makes you slump forward.

“Right,” he says to pierce through the agonising silence.

You want to disappear right then and there. It’s unfair of you to shut him up like that when you’ve been gone for months and you barely have had the time to chat properly on the phone. It’s unfair of you to not listen to him talk about a topic that clearly has him excited, someone who has him foolishly smiling and rambling.

But maybe it is that. That you are back after the most horrible months you’ve been through and all he can talk about is this gorgeous perfect girl that claims his every thought.

You’re annoyed she’s pushed you away to a corner of his mind. Annoyed that whilst you were crying your eyes out every fucking day, he’s been getting closer to this girl.

It’s odd because it isn’t like Ross hadn’t had girlfriends before. You have witnessed him with girlfriends since you met him.

But there was an end to that and it was when you first kissed on Christmas day a year ago. Ever since that day, your dynamic had shifted and you had been perhaps flirting a bit more, but it never went further than that. But he also didn’t get a girlfriend after that and maybe, despite having to leave for university, you had held out hope that it would stay that way.

How foolish of you.

Cookies are finished and put on the oven in deafening silence, a very awkward one that makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You can breathe again when he leaves as soon as your parents come back downstairs with more presents to place under the tree. He says something about going back home to get ready and making sure his parents don’t come over late before he closes the door behind himself.

Suddenly, the prospect of having Christmas dinner with the MacDonald family is suffocating and you want to be able to hide in your room and avoid it entirely, but you can’t.

Not when Ross’ mum and dad envelope you in the tightest hugs and tell you how much they’ve missed having you around. You have to bite your tongue not to start crying, especially when you see Ross standing behind them over their shoulders with a forced smile that reminds you how badly you had fucked up earlier.

You’re incredibly grateful for the fact that your parents take over the conversation aspect of dinner, because Ross barely looks at you or speaks to you all throughout it. It only saddens you more, a bit of anger brewing inside you too.

It’s too tense to enjoy, too awkward to even feel a hint of the warmth Christmas day often brings you.

When dinner is over and your mum tells the both of you it’s time for your annual Christmas pictures, it becomes even more awkward—as if that was possible.

His arm falls over your shoulder like dead weight, his fingers don’t even hold you in place. So when you wrap your arm around his waist, you barely make an effort to hold him close to you. Your smiles are forced on your faces, no dimples biting at his cheeks, your lips almost look pressed together instead of showing a toothy grin to the camera like you’ve always done before.

Your mum sighs but takes a picture anyway. She has no idea why you two are acting this way but she doesn’t care, she just wants a cute picture. “Oh c’mon kids, where’s the kiss?”

A roll of your eyes is what your mum sees, and she’s about to scold you when you say in a forced amused tone, “Think we’re a bit too old for mistletoe kisses now, no?”

Silence again. Second after second of quietness that only makes the weight on your shoulders heavier.

It’s ironic how much heavier it feels when Ross lifts his arm off your shoulders and lets it fall limply on his side at the same time as he agrees, “We are.”

You take your arm off his waist instantly. You’re left standing awkwardly beside the other and despite your mum’s confusion, which is clear in her frown, she presses the shutter and the picture is taken and begins printing in a blink of an eye.

As soon as the whirring of the printing polaroid stops, you regret ever letting those words out of your mouth.

Because not only do you get a hasty hug from Ross when he and his parents leave your house, the next morning is accentuated by the lack of his presence.

No more ‘sweetheart’. No more pictures of kisses on cheeks under the mistletoe. No lazy Boxing day morning.

And, apparently, no walking to Matty’s together either.

You’ve been waiting for his call all day. First, to see if he was coming over to show each other your presents like you always do, but no call came through. And now, you’re three hours into waiting for him to call you and tell you to walk out so you can go to Matty’s together for the gift exchange.

No call comes and since you’ve been ready to go for a while and you don’t want to be late, you just rush downstairs and leave.

Walking down the roads you’ve missed so much, alone, is another wave of pain that you didn’t know you could feel just by the absence of someone. No one has ever meant this much to you before that the lack of their presence chips away at your heart, piece by piece.

When you get to the Healy residence, you get crushing hugs from everyone that’s already there. Except from Ross, of course, because he’s already there, splayed on a loveseat and he barely makes the effort to hug you hello.

As the inevitable catching up happens all over again, since you’re still waiting for the rest of your friend group to arrive, you have to hide the truth and put on a fake smile when talking about how university is going. But it’s hard when you have no new friends, and you’re struggling through most of your classes thanks to how homesick you feel.

Change is a nightmare to you and you’re reminded of how much things are changing at a quick pace when an hour goes by and no one else shows up.

Seems like no matter how vocal about the promise of always coming back Danielle had been, she and Sarah weren’t coming at all. Jodie shares a sad smile with you and puts away the gift bags from them, leaving only the ones for everyone who’s currently there.

The warmth you have been craving since you got there finally washes over you when everyone opens up their gifts. Laughter, cooing and many thank yous go around the living room, it gives you the hope that maybe it’s not been all ruined.

You’re looking forward to the New Year’s Eve party until George asks Ross if he’s asked Katie about it and the way Ross blushes is enough for everyone but you and Jodie to start a ruckus, teasing and making jokes about the girl and Ross.

“Yes, she’s coming over on the 31st…” Ross sighs, rubbing his flushed face to hide how flustered he’s gotten. But then he drops his hand and looks around the place, brows shooting up and eyes widening like he’s giving a warning, “You lot better play nice.”

However, it’s the way his eyes grow stern when they fall on you that you know he means it seriously when it comes to you.

So you take it seriously.

You know you’ve been the one to put this tension between you and it’s in your hands to right your wrongs, so you want to take this opportunity to apologise for your irrationality on the previous days.

You’ve mentally prepared, gone over what Ross told you the day you got home and recognised how great of a person Katie sounded like. It actually makes you smile when thinking she’s been such a good help for him to adjust to his new teaching gig, how she and Ross have gone through the novelty of it together; and convincing yourself that despite the horrendous feeling that clouds your insides, she’s been a good addition to Ross’ life.

But it doesn’t matter that you’ve reached those conclusions and that you’re actually gotten yourself excited enough to meet her, because when you get to Matty’s with two bottles of vodka and a pack of Ross’ favourite beer—an apology gift if you will—, Ross fully avoids you.

He gives you a tight lip smile and a nod of his head as a hello, he turns to Katie and says, “Katie, this is Y/N.”

You’re left trying to awkwardly act like the fact that Ross has left you with your arms open and awaiting a hug hasn’t hurt you, and you really try your best to push the ugly feeling aside when you smile at her and offer your hand out for her to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Katie. I’ve heard loads about you.”

She blushes and lets out the cutest giggle, and of course it’s that which finally makes Ross smile.

“Oh, really? That’s erm, good to hear.” She finally grabs your hand after giving Ross a side look to which he smirks. You really have to fight the scowl that wants to take over your face when she shakes your hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

He snakes an arm around her waist and you take that as a sign to get yourself away from the situation. Before you can say something you’ll regret even more, or even pick a fight with Ross for his indifference.

The need to call him out for it grows as the night continues, for he doesn’t even look at you. He keeps a straight face when you speak, doesn’t even look at you when you clearly throw a comment or ask a question to him, he doesn’t speak to you at all. And everyone fucking notices, the looks they keep sending your way are enough to know that they know something is wrong.

But you can’t explain, not right then at least. So you keep to yourself, pouring yourself drink after drink, and you start being petty and mirror his behaviour: you laugh louder to annoy him, messing about with George and Matty obnoxiously, ignoring any comment or joke he could make to the rest of the group.

You walk past the line of tipsy and start getting drunker and drunker when midnight gets closer. The memory of how it had been the previous year makes you glare at him. He has her almost sitting on his lap as she delicately takes sip after sip of her cup, and it enrages you that he’s drinking the beer you bought him when he hasn’t even thanked you for it!

How is it that you were kissing him a year ago and now you’re watching him being all lovey dovey with a girl he has just met?

It’s an understatement to say you’re fucking pissed by midnight. George has been laughing at your clumsiness for a while now, but he has joined you when you started drinking the vodka straight from the bottle instead of mixing it with fizzy lemonade like you had been all night.

When the countdown starts, you set the almost empty vodka bottle on the coffee table and start screaming along.

Matty is beside you and he grabs your shoulders and shakes you in excitement, making you laugh loudly, but you let yourself fall back so you’re resting over his chest and he rests his chin on your shoulder, counting down right in your ear.

It is the second everyone yells, “Happy New Year!” that you act before your brain can process and, suddenly, you’re kissing Matty.

He gasps when your lips meet and you lick into his mouth, but the curly haired brunette doesn’t pull back, instead he cups your face and tilts your head to put you in an angle where he can kiss you comfortably and he even moans into your mouth when your fingers tangle in his curls and pull on them.

The surprise of what’s happening is enough to make everyone gasp instead of wishing each other a happy new year, and soon whistles and ruckus drowns the room. Everyone but Ross participates in the disturbance. The bassist is biting his tongue as he sees you basically eating Matty’s face. His fingers tighten around Katie’s waist and she turns around to see him when she feels the change in his hold.

Ross forces a smile and Katie gasps, “I didn’t know they were a thing!”

“Me neither,” he manages out through his teeth.

It doesn’t matter that he’s doing a poor job at hiding what’s going through his head because Katie is more interested in seeing what happens next with you and Matty.

The feeling of tears rolling down your cheeks and tasting the saltiness in the kiss, makes Matty pull back. He hears you whine and you pucker up your lips to continue the kiss but Matty pulls back, clutching your face a bit tighter so you can open your eyes and look at him while he whispers, “Do you wanna leave Y/N/N?”

Matty knows you far better than you think and he knows that this kiss has no other meaning behind it other than the fact that you’re too drunk and he’s quite sure he knows why you have been so reckless with your drinking tonight. And, despite being drunk himself, he has to try and get a hold of his bearings and help you out.

You nod, embarrassed when another tear rolls down your cheek. When he wipes it with his thumb before anyone can see it, you whisper back, “Can we go up to your room? Can’t be here anymore.”

His curls bounce on his head when he nods and you’re grateful he holds you by your waist when you stand up and walk upstairs to his room.

“Y’alright?” Matty asks when he closes the door behind the two of you.

You wait until he sets you on the edge of his bed to answer, “No.”

He knows it’s all because of Ross, not only because of his behaviour tonight, but maybe because you felt some type of way for his best mate and now you were stuck in this situation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not– Don’t apologise. This is just me being fucking stupid, expecting everything to be the same when I came back home.” The despair is clear in your voice and he kneels in front of you when you let your head hang for the tears can’t be stopped anymore. You shake your head as you think about all that you have felt for months and how, after tonight, the feelings that have flooded your system are just the same, “But I’m so sad, Matty. I’m so lonely.”

It breaks his heart to hear you like this, when your shoulders shake as you silently sob, he squeezes your thighs to make you look into his eyes when he says, “You’ve got us. Always.”

Another shake of your head breaks his heart, your words not helping at all when you say, “Not back there. I wish I did.”

Matty knows it is not the moment to ask about it, but he will ask how you truly are doing in London afterwards. For now, he brushes your hair behind your ears and asks, “Do you want me to stay?”

“Please?” Your voice breaks when you add, “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

He quickly stands on his feet and crushes you in a hug, “I’m right here, darling. I’ve got you.”

Matty stays with you for a while, and Ross sees red when another ten minutes go by and neither of you come back downstairs. He grabs Katie’s hand and convinces her to leave, and the girl of course accepts because despite really having enjoyed herself, she would rather have Ross all to herself.

Ross stomps his way back home with Katie in hand. He’s fucking fuming at both you and Matty, because of course you would act all childishly when finding out he has met a girl and has been taling to her, and use one of his best mates to get back at him.

He shakes his head and huffs angrily, deciding right then and there that he’s done with your behaviour. And he ignores the feeling that burns his insides at the thought of you and Matty together on a night like this. He chooses to focus on Katie, sweet Katie who’s giggling and sharing her favourite things about tonight.

Stopping in the middle of the road, he wraps an arm around Katie’s waist and presses her flush against his chest, brings a hand up to her face and kisses her passionately.

He shuts his eyes tightly and tries his best not to compare this kiss to the one you had shared a year ago, willing himself to have Katie be all he thinks about from now on.

Even when you come knocking on his door two days later.

A soft smile is on your face when he opens the door and you greet him with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

He sounds and looks wary, like he’s trying not to say too much either with his words or his facial expressions.

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers as you let him know, “Erm… I’m going back.”

He frowns, “Already?”

You know it’s odd, it’s the middle of the week and classes don’t start again until Monday so there’s no reason for you to leave in such a hurry, but you just can’t stay here when everything is like this. You had wanted to come back home to spend your time with him, not ruining your friendship in the worst possible way and now, all you wanted to do was run away before you could get yet another chance to fuck things up even more.

“Yeah. Gotta go back.”

“Did you have fun?” Ross asks with a tone in his voice that makes you freeze in your spot.

It feels like it’s a trick question but you can’t really think about why. Mainly because you can’t remember much about the party other than how awful Ross had acted with you, but you don’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing he had been the reason for the way you had drank.

So you try to smile even brighter now, nodding as you reply, “I did. It was really fun.” It hadn’t really, because not only had you been feeling so awful because of him, you had woken up with the worst fucking hangover of your life. Matty had been lovely and helped you until you felt well enough for him to take you back home, but you were still feeling the effects of such a horrible night.

You made a joke of it, very nonchalantly adding, “Still feeling a little rough but it’s alright.”

But since you have no clue of what Ross thinks happened, your words make his stomach churn and he scoffs humourlessly, “Right. Well, I’ll see you next year then.”

The way he says it makes you feel like instead of saying goodbye like you had come over with the intention of doing, he’s pushing you away with a halfhearted farewell to just get it over with.

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you try not to cry, and with a small voice you agree, “Yes. You will.”

“Good,” Ross says, though he isn’t sure if he means it or not.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Katie and Ross had gotten together officially on Valentine’s day of 2008, or so you saw back then when she posted it on Facebook—after Matty had begged you to make yourself a profile on the new social media page, the lads had sent you friend requests and along with them came Katie and a bunch of people from school you had barely ever spoken to.

The biggest change since you left Wilmslow at the very start of the year has been that you barely ever speak to Ross, either through the phone or through messages on Facebook. You had called him on his birthday to congratulate him and so he had done the same when yours approached.

Matty has been the one to take his place, even if it has been in a way different way than what Ross ever was to you. You’re still so incredibly grateful for Matty, he’s the one to help you on your worst days and is a great person to vent to when you couldn’t keep everything to yourself any longer.

With someone there to be entirely transparent to, hearing you and helping you through your struggles, university got the tiniest bit easier.

And though it still wasn’t the greatest thing ever, you were scared of leaving your dorm to take a coach back home for the holidays with how everything had turned out the year before.

So you’re more anxious than excited when you sit by the window and open a book you’ve brought to keep you distracted from your thoughts on the long drive up to Manchester.

It’s futile, for you have to read each paragraph twice and you barely have gotten halfway through the book with how distracted you’ve gotten by your own mind throughout the ride home. Any other day, six hours would be enough for you to finish a three hundred and something pages long book, but not today.

Your dad greets you with the biggest hug at the airport station and once you get inside his car, it feels real enough that you can’t stay still. Not even when you get home and go upstairs to your room after hugging your mum hello.

You’re pacing around your room, sitting on the edge of your bed for a handful of seconds only to spring back up and start pacing again. A vicious cycle that continues for far longer than you would like to admit, until the loud knocking on your front door startles you out of your trance and poses a good excuse to do something.

“I got it!” You yell out to your mum who’s making hot chocolate in the kitchen, and you hum when she thanks you.

When you open the door, Ross greets you with a loud, “Hi!” and a toothy smile that you haven’t seen in ages.

Through the shock, you manage to say, “Oh hi!”

And you become even more shocked when he goes straight to the point, “Heard you’d finally arrived so I thought I’d come by and ask you if you wanted to come over later? You know, to catch up, maybe watch a film and have some hot chocolate…”

“Oh? Yeah, sure. That sounds good,” you somehow manage, but you’re sure your wide eyes and your parted mouth is enough for him to know you’re surprised.

“Brilliant,” he smiles easily and asks just to be sure, “Around six?”

You nod, swallowing hard before answering, “Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

In all honesty, you thought he hated you. With everything that happened a year ago, most of it all being your own fault, you expected to not see him until Boxing day at Matty’s when you were due to exchange gifts, but here he is inviting you over to have a day to yourselves like you used to back in the day.

There’s a spark of hope that brings tears to your eyes. Maybe you haven’t lost him just yet and you couldn’t be happier about it.

Your parents see the change in your demeanour when you come into the kitchen with the brightest smile and let them know you’ll be going to Ross’ house around six to hang out. They truly couldn’t be happier because they had always loved the friendship the two of you shared, and your mum had been highly suspicious about your lack of Ross talk ever since last Christmas.

But you had cheered way too early for when you knock on Ross’ door and he lets you in, you’re met with a smiling Katie in the middle of the living room waving you over.

The shock leaves you frozen in your spot and Ross watches as Katie’s smile falters when she asks if you’re alright. Ross doesn’t even have to see your face to see how tense you are and the tone in your voice when you say, “Yes! I’m fine. Sorry. It’s so good to see you again.” is enough for him to know this is gonna cost you some effort.

You take one of the settees while Katie takes her place on the loveseat across from you and Ross is off to the kitchen to bring the mugs of hot chocolate he had promised.

When he’s back, you and Katie are exchanging some lighthearted small talk. He hands you a mug and hopes that with his presence there, he can help you and Katie to get to know each other better. After all, he still considered you one of his best friends and Katie had now been his girlfriend for ten months, so it’s well overdue to have you and Katie properly getting along.

But it seems like that isn’t happening any time soon. You’re trying your best not to be awkward, to be nice and find interest in everything she’s saying but Ross knows you so well, anger starts boiling his blood when he sees how much you’re forcing it all.

It doesn’t sit well with him how you can’t even hack simple conversation with his girlfriend, and despite a voice inside his head pointing out that you really are trying, he can’t help but become more and more infuriated by the lack of sincerity of your words and behaviour.

The last nail in the coffin is when you cut short one of Katie’s stories about one of her and Ross’ dates and say that you’re sorry but you need to head back home. And, even when Katie points out it’s just a quarter to ten, you hold your ground and continue saying you really needed to go.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” Ross says once he’s shut the door behind him as he walks you out.

You turn around to see him rubbing his face in exhaustion, “Excuse me?”

He groans, exasperated, “Can you just, for once, not be a bitch to her?”

Your mouth opens agape at his choice of words and you struggle to find your words, “What? How am I–”

“You are! You know damn well you are!” He interrupts with fury, “I thought it had just been bad last year ‘cause it was your first time coming back home for the holidays and it was a bit of an intrusion to have her join our friend group, but now? There’s no excuse for how fucking fake you’re being to her.”

Like a fish out of water, your mouth opens and closes as you try to find what to say, “Ross, I–”

It isn’t good enough for him and he interrupts, “No, I don’t wanna hear it.”

He can see the tears welling up your eyes and he has to stop himself from rolling his, “You either treat her like a decent human being or–,” he trails off as he thinks. It is then that he looks at you sternly and spits out with venom laced through his words, “Or maybe, you know what? You should just leave. Go back to London.”

Words could never describe that pain that ripples through your body when he says that, you can barely say with a broken voice, “If that’s what you want.”

And not even the fact that you’re about to sob stops him from being so harsh on you. He nods, “I do. It’s for the best of everyone here that you just go.”

“Okay,” you whisper before turning on your heels and walking quickly down the road, rushing to go into your house.

Your mum and dad see the desperation with which you open the door and slam it shut behind you, and they barely catch the tears running down your cheeks when you run upstairs and lock yourself in your room.

Toeing off your shoes, you walk up to your window and shut the curtains, to then turn off your lights and in utter darkness, you shed yourself of your clothes and put on your pyjamas before hiding yourself under your sheets and starting to sob.

Your chest hurts with every cry that you try to smother by pressing your face into your pillow, and it is right then that you know you won’t be able to stay for long. You will unfortunately give Ross the pleasure of listening to his words and go back to London, but not before actually having Christmas dinner with your family and giving everyone their Christmas gifts on Boxing day. You would endure only two more days and then you would be gone. Spending New Years alone in your dorm didn’t sound as depressing as spending it here where you didn’t feel welcome anymore, not with Ross right there.

Before Christmas dinner, your mum sends you over with a big gingerbread cake for the MacDonalds; since they aren’t coming over for dinner that year, as Katie was spending it with Ross and his parents, the tradition of sending over treats has come alive again.

You’re so grateful that it is his mum to open the door, not feeling strong enough to see his face again. But it’s extremely hard for you not to let your tears spill down the corners of your eyes when she invites you inside to share the treat with everyone. You politely decline and instead make her laugh when you have her promise to let you know how she finds the cake.

Throughout the whole of Christmas dinner with your parents, your mind is gone somewhere else. You barely touch your food and can’t really keep track of the conversation they try to lure you into. After dinner is over and you’ve put the dirty dishes on the dishwasher, you manage to focus enough to appreciate the gifts your parents got for you and to relish in the reactions to the gifts you got them.

Unfortunately, as you go on Facebook to wish Matty, George and Adam a merry Christmas, you catch a glimpse of a picture Ross has uploaded only a few hours ago, and it’s needless to say that your heart breaks in a billion pieces and you sob yourself to sleep like a fool.

How could you not when he’s posted a picture of Katie and him kissing under the mistletoe, reminding you of a tradition that’s now long gone, along with your friendship it seems.

And when you wake up and spend the entire morning of Boxing day alone, falling in and out of sleep, you’re reminded of yet another tradition you used to share that is far gone and adds to your heartache.

Your anguish makes you lose track of time and your appetite, and apparently your rationality as well because you spend hours making a pros and cons list in your mind about showing up to Matty’s before you realise you should just go and give everyone the presents you had already spent your money on. You’re leaving anyway and it would be far better if you just didn’t have all those gifts to look back to and remind you just how everything has turned out this year.

Plus, you had made a promise to keep coming back to see them every year and, after Sarah and Danielle had broken that promise the very first chance it had been time to prove it, you didn’t want to follow their steps.

However, since you’ve wasted all day trying to make that decision, you’re definitely late to the gift exchange.

By the time you get there, you look like an utter mess from how quickly you had gotten ready and how fast you had walked over there, but everyone greets you with sweet smiles and warm hugs.

Everyone but Ross. Yet again. Even Katie envelopes you in a tight hug that you reciprocate, but Ross merely pats your back when you swing an arm around his shoulder to hug him.

You sigh and try brushing it off as you sit beside Matty, who wastes no time to hug you into him and ask if you were alright. Nodding, you assure him wordlessly you were but your eyes say you’re going to talk to him about it later and he nods in understanding.

“Are we gonna start now, then, or what?” Ross says grumpily. He had been the one annoyed at your impunctuality, pushing everyone to just get on with it and not wait for you anymore.

No one will tell you this because it just wouldn’t help at all.

Everyone in the room can see that things between you and Ross are somehow worse than last year, even Katie can tell and it confuses her a lot, because all had been fine when you had come over on Christmas Eve and the three of you had spent the evening together.

Katie doesn’t even know if she should ask. In all honesty, she doesn’t know how to even ask or if she should ask you or Ross or both.

But she puts the matter to the side when you all start exchanging gifts—knowing that Katie was joining this year, everyone has gotten her gifts as well so the girl truly feels like a part of the group—and it is a nice distraction from the clear tension in the room when everyone gets to open their presents.

When Ross thanks you last for what you’ve gotten him with the meekest tone, you have to really force a smile to say, “You’re welcome.” But everyone can see just how much of an effort it is for you to sound nonchalant about it.

Matty is about to snap out at Ross for being an absolute twat when you stand up after gathering all of your gift bags and announce, “Well, I unfortunately gotta go now boys.”

George frowns, “What? Why?”

“It’s barely eight, Y/N,” Adam reminds you softly.

The shake of your head confuses them more and so do your words, “I mean go back to London. I can’t stay longer this year.”

Matty is the one who’s more vocal about his confusion, his words clearly a brutal inquiry as to your reasoning since he knows how much you’d rather be anywhere else but in uni, “Why? Where are you spending New Years? In your dorm?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” you trail off when you can’t really find something to say. Your eyes shift to look at Ross, the reason for your early goodbye, and the second your eyes lock on his, he averts his gaze like he has nothing to do with this. You sigh and excuse, “Something came up, and I really gotta go.”

No one buys it, but they still hug you the tightest they can before bidding you farewell.

“Hope you have the best time on New Year’s Eve. Happy New Year you lot!” You call out as you walk to the front door, “Love yous!”

Alone and in a silence that sickens you, you walk back home.

When you get there, you can’t stop the tears that slide down your cheeks when you tell your parents you’re going back early and you don’t even let your dad offer himself to drive you to the station for you swear you’ve got a ride and it’s all fine.

They want to ask what’s wrong but they don’t when they see the fact that you don’t want to talk about it written on your face. So they leave you to go upstairs and into your room to pack your things up as you silently cry over how poorly it has all gone.

This is the second year you feel like Ross is slipping away from your grasp, and it has you desperate but the only person you have to blame is yourself, for feeling that stupid ownership over him when he isn’t yours, when he has never been yours.

You should be mature enough to keep his friendship, not ruin it because you’re jealous and you feel alone. You should be happy he’s found someone to appreciate him for who he is, to give him the love he deserves when you are gone.

The feeling of disappointment in yourself haunts you as you walk down the stairs and hug your parents goodbye. And that feeling slaps you in the face like the cold winds of December, when you open the door and walk out to Ross waiting there.

He doesn’t say anything though, not when you gasp at his presence, not when you walk up to him and stand right beside him as you wait for the taxi you had phoned to pick you up.

You’re there staring ahead, wishing he was as selfish and horrible as yourself, wishing he would just beg you to stay and say he’d leave his girlfriend behind so you could take her place.

But Ross isn’t selfish nor a bad person like you are. He just stands there in silence and lets his presence be company and goodbye enough for you to settle before you’re gone again.

He offers you a cigarette that you take gracefully, and he lights it up for you without needing to hear you ask for it. The two of you stand there, side by side, smoking together in utter silence.

Your taxi gets there shortly after and he silently watches you put your case in the boot of the car before you throw the cigarette onto the pavement and stomp on it. You open the back door and take one last look at him before getting inside the vehicle.

Not a wave nor a goodbye, much less a hug. Nothing but silence is what he offers as you go.

It isn’t until you get further and further away, disappearing in the distance and becoming smaller as you drive away in the back of that taxi that his gaze drops to the pavement to watch the bud of the cigarette crushed, and it is then that Ross realises he hadn’t heard you cough, not even once, and he frowns to himself.

He really doesn’t know you anymore and he can’t help but wonder if that is for the better. 

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: Part 2 is coming to you in exactly a week so don't yell at me just yet please!!! I promise I'll make it up to you. Let me know what you thought and what you hope happens next! It seems a bit cruel to wish you a merry Christmas after this but I really do hope yous all have a lovely Christmas! xx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @abiiors @everythinggetsfuzzy103 @on-administrative-leave @ughgoaway @harryssiren @2kwreck @obses-sedd @scarlett-grace-2 @taylorswiftsrep-blog @solitariodecartas @cherryofmydesire @momentum2023 @soggynoodles02 (i wasn't sure who wanted to be tagged or not so send me a message if you wanna be off the taglist for this story)

[vermilionspecter]

"I'm Not Megatron" first teaser

Megatronus stood tall above dozens of bodies, covered in blue shining from starlight. His red optics striked Starscream as the most brave he had ever seen. He raised up his claws, his only weapons apart from his blasters. And when he cried out his declaration for a revolution, Starscream knew it would be idiodic not to join in.

The entire population in the bleachers surrounding the arena joined in the war cry like they were ready to follow the mech into a battle. The entire structure vibrated with pounding pedes and anger. Starscream had a special seat above the general ones, where he could watch everything from high. In his chair, he rested blue forearms along the arm rests and kept his red torso high. On his mostly dark colored faceplate, he wore a wide smirk.

Vos will be behind Megatronus. Finally, he could get those annoying councilmen off his back. And perhaps he could even rise to rule the entirety of Cybertron. No lesser position would show everyone just how great the seekers were, and no more would the seekers be seen as weak! His army will stand tall, proud, and prosperous after this revolution. He can just see it within arms grasp!

Megatronus met his optics. Together, they shared a moment of relishment in their future victories before Starscream watched him leave his place in the area.

Millions of years later…

Starscream did not get a klik of recharge that night. Even sitting 50 meters from the recharging predacons could not ease the static running through his circuits. Closing his optics left him vulnerable. What if that predacon Skylynx decided to go through with his threat? What if the thin tall one, Riverwing, decided he looked tasty?

When the sun had risen and shiny orange colors painted the canyon, he took a large in-vent of the fresh air. The colors here were beautiful, despite the annoying green flying bugs all in his face. It would never compare to Vos. Vos was his kingdom; it was a masterpiece of towering structures of intriguing shapes and platforms perfect for his army of seekers. 

Starscream frowned. Even an army of predacons could not replace what he once had. But they will have to do. 

Vos’s shapes painted his mind. His city could have been there, right in front of him. He could have been in his grand tower again with seekers flying instead of these bugs.

Notes:

Apologies for the long read. Also, I apologize for any mistakes as this part has not yet been looked at by my freind and editor.

Lots of plans for this fic. I hope I can make it better and longer than my last. This here is the begeining of chapter two.

I like negative and positive feedback equally.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

Court Of Public Opinion - Andy Barber x Reader (Part 4)

A/N: This is the sequel series to Memory Served and will contain major spoilers for that series so go read that one first if you haven’t already!

Summary: As news breaks about who your abductor was, things get more complicated

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Gas Lighting!

Dividers by me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 4

Staring up at the trees you watched as the small amount of light dabbled through the leaves, many of which were beginning to take on an orange hue. The last time you’d been in this part the path was covered in blossom, the sweet smell of spring wafting through the air. Now dead leaves littered the floor, the air was turning chilly. 

You had missed the entirety of summer. You didn’t see all the kids out on summer break running around and playing. You didn’t see the many, many barbeques that filled the park during the 4th of July weekend. You experienced a summer, but not the summer you knew. 

“I’m so glad my nausea is gone but dog shit is gross at the worst of times” Carrie grumbled as she stepped back towards you. 

You shook your head slightly to rid yourself of the fog that clouded your mind “Oh sorry I should have offered” You apologise. 

Carrie gives you a small kind smile “It’s okay, I could tell you needed space for a moment” 

You let out a long guilty sigh as you look down at your feet, kicking some of the leaves “I’m sorry” you apologise. 

“Nope, we aren’t doing any of that apologising bullshit,” Carrie says looping her arm through yours as you began to walk “I get it, what happened doesn’t just go away and if you need to talk about whatever you were just thinking about then we got you” she continues nodding down to Nova who wagged her tail. 

“I was just-” you start before taking a deep breath “It's weird, to me this place has gone from spring to autumn, there’s a whole four months missing, but I remember summer I was just another person… I dunno I don’t think I’m explaining it well” you sigh shaking your head. 

“No I get it, I understand how disorientating it must be, coming back and so much has changed in an instant, it’s like you time-travelled or got stuck in a quantum realm or something” Carrie reassures you. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small snort “Quantum realm?” you questioned to which she let out a long and dramatic sigh.

“Harrison won’t let me watch Rom-coms or anything like that because I’m getting too emotional and it’s not fair on him to constantly console me, which I get, I’m a fucking mess at the moment because of these hormones, I cried at a diaper advert yesterday” she explains.

You bite your lips to stop yourself from laughing “A diaper advert?”

“It had a cute baby which made me excited for our cute baby and then sad because it’s still ages until we meet our cute baby” Carries explains making you chuckle “Anyway, so in the meantime we’ve settled on sci-fi movies, they’re not that bad to be honest” 

You could no longer hold back your laughter and a real smile appeared on your face “Well you’ll have to give me and Andy some recommendations” You smiled. 

“I’ll have a list ready for your next date night” Carrie winks. 

Your smile falters for a moment as your mind goes back to your date nights with Andy. Things had been getting better and it felt more normal but still just felt incredibly delicate. You felt like you were just waiting for the moment that he would break and the illusion would shatter. It was why you were trying so hard to be normal, stop letting the shadow of Ransom loom over you. Because in those normal moments, Andy still loved you, you weren’t tainted if he could forget what happened for just a moment then the chances of him leaving you were smaller.

You clear your throat as you pick a straw fibre from your jacket sleeve “Thank you, so what are you planning to do for Halloween?” you ask desperate to change the topic.

Carrie’s eyes instantly lit up because Halloween was her favourite time of the year, she and Harrison always killed it with their costumes. You and Andy tried to compete one year but it was pointless, Carrie and Harrison were the king and queen of Halloween. She then goes on to explain in great detail that the party is called ‘things that go bump in the night’ and that her costume is Kane from Alien. 

As she talked you tried to focus on everything she was saying but you began to feel your ears burn and gazes on your back. You glanced over your shoulder a couple of times to see a pair of joggers behind you whispering, they both quickly jog past the two of you though. You shake your head slightly, they were probably just keeping their own conversation low as they passed you so they weren’t rude, not because they were talking about you. 

You returned your attention back to Carrie and her elaborate plans to decorate her house for the party. However, you began to notice more people sparing glances your way as they passed by. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up from all the attention. 

You knew it was inevitable though, this was a small town so people talked, you were still the big news story. You were just glad it seemed to be getting better though, people were calling by the house less. You preferred curious glances over continual questions and having to relive it all over and over again, putting on a brave face when all you wanted to do was tell them to fuck off and mind their own business. 

“Oh and we got Nova the coolest spider costume too, you know from that viral video” Carrie continued.

You were about to respond when two teenage girls just appeared out of nowhere in front of you “Oh my god it’s you! You have to tell us everything about him!” One of them said, starstruck looks in their eyes.

You and Carrie exchanged a confused glance, even Nova tilted her head “I’m sorry who?” You ask.

“Harlan Thrombey!” The other girl exclaims, one of Harlan’s books now obvious in her hand.

“Oh… I um-“ you stutter taken aback “he was nice, I only met him a few times” 

The girls in front of you continue to fangirl, bombarding you with questions that left both you and Carrie in a state of shock.

“Did he tell you about his new book?”

“What about that Netflix series?” 

“Is it true he has a massive collection of knives?”

“Who does he think the watcher is?”

“And ohmygod his Grandson Ransom is so hot! What was he like? I bet he’s so dreamy!”

That last question snapped both you and Carrie out of your shocked states. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been dumped on you, while you could practically feel the heat of Carrie’s anger.

“Excuse me? You do know he abducted her and held her against her will?” Carrie seethes.

“How- how did you even know?” You mutter feeling your stomach turning.

“They announced it on the news this morning,” one of the girls said with a look that said ‘obviously’.

Had you known that? You weren’t sure. The detectives must have let Andy know that they were going to finally name Ransom today. Had he told you last night or this morning and you had just blocked it out? Or had he purposely not told you because he hated that you were tied to Ransom?

“Honestly I don’t blame you, I couldn’t think of a man better than Ransom, he has the looks, the money, the family” the other girl continues and the hearts in her eyes made you want to vomit.

Carrie absolutely exploded after hearing that, she already had the protective mama bear instinct and being pregnant just made it so much stronger. You knew she was completely ripping into the two girls and letting them know exactly how wrong they were but you couldn’t hear her over the ringing in your ears.

You blinked a couple of times when you felt someone tugging your elbow. Your vision refocused and you could see the girls were long gone and Carrie was leading you out of the park and back home. As you walked the ringing in your ears slowly began to subside and be replaced with Carrie muttering about how twisted those girls must be to see Ransom as a hero.

“You okay?” Carrie then asked fully snapping you back into the moment.

You blinked a couple of times and realised you were back home, standing outside your front door. Carrie must have been waiting for you to unlock it when she noticed you weren’t completely there.

“Yeah,” you managed to say fishing your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door.

“Don’t listen to those girls okay, they’re clearly just crime fanatics who refuse to see their hero as the person they really are” Carrie tells you as she follows you into the house, letting Nova off her lead.

You just nod as you walk into the kitchen. As you pass the island you spot a note from Andy saying he’s gone out for groceries and to donate the last of the pasta dishes to the homeless shelter. You breathed out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t in, you didn’t want him to hear about what had just happened. What happened wasn’t normal, you needed normal.

“Do you want me to call Andy?” Carrie then asks gently.

You shake your head “No it's okay” you tell her “I’m fine, he’ll just worry and come straight home when he doesn’t need to” 

“Okay, are you sure you’re okay? It's okay if you’re not” Carrie reminds you.

You force a brave smile “Yeah it just threw me that's all like you said they’re immature girls with an unhealthy obsession with a celebrity” you tell her “I just have to remember I have the evidence on my side”

Carrie gives you a proud smile “Exactly, no amount of fangirls will be able to protect him” she says as she wraps her arm around you.

“Thank you though for getting me out, standing in my corner and getting me home,” you tell her with a grateful smile.

“It's nothing just give me and Nova a shout whenever you need it, I should probably get her home now but if you need us to stay we can stay” Carrie offers as she scratches Nova behind the ear.

“No I’m good, you get on home so Nova can have her post-walk treat” You smile down at Nova who was wagging her tail excitedly.

“Oh yes can’t forget about that” Carrie grinned as she put Nova back on the leash.

You follow Carrie back to the front door, as you did so you thought back to those girls in the park. If Andy had been there it would have gone down so much worse, hearing about how people fawned over Ransom, remind him of how you’d been with him, slept with him. You didn’t want those reminders.

“Don’t tell Andy about today” you suddenly say as Carrie opens the door.

Carrie freezes and looks back over at you, her eyes studying you for a moment “I won’t but… I think you should” she says gently

“I will I promise, I just want it to come from me” you lied, you would avoid telling him for as long as possible.

“Good,” Carrie says watching you for another moment before smiling “Just ring me when you need me” 

“I will thank you” You smile giving her a small wave before closing the door and heading back to the kitchen.

You moved to make yourself a warm drink to warm yourself back up but then spotted a pile of mail beside the note Andy had left. One of the jobs that had kept you busy was going through all the mail that you missed while you were gone. Andy had already sorted the bills you had but there was still lots left over so dealing with mail as it came helped.

Flipping through the pile you saw a lot of it was for Andy anyway but at the end was a letter for you. When you saw the handwriting you instantly felt sick, your legs feeling weak as you just about managed to sit down. It was Ransom’s handwriting. 

Your first instinct was to call Andy but just as you reached for your phone you froze. You had no idea what was in this letter, it could be a confession, a threat, or it could detail everything you did with Ransom. You knew that Ransom liked to play mind games, he would want to get under Andy’s skin.

No, you needed to find out what was in here first, then you would decide if you would show Andy or not. With shaking hands, you ripped open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Kitten,

I don’t understand what happened. I thought you were happier. Happier with me. I’ve been lied to all my life by my parents, I know how to spot a lie. So I know it wasn’t a lie when you told me you loved me. I’m sorry though I should have told you the truth, but when they told me that you lost your memory I saw my chance. You promised you were going to leave him anyway so I thought that it would be easier for you if I didn’t remind you of him. I see now that it was wrong and I’m sorry, we can fix this and get through this together. I can’t wait to have you back in my arms, my house, my bed, where you belong. I love you kitten and I won’t stop fighting for us.

Love Ransom x

The letter fell out of your hands as you stumbled back struggling to take a breath. Your hand cupped your mouth as you gagged, your legs feeling weak. You couldn’t believe the lies Ransom was trying to sell, how he was trying to convince you that he was telling the truth. You would never leave Andy, not for anyone or any reason. 

You couldn’t show this to Andy, you couldn’t have Ransom’s lies poisoning him. You could already feel the doubts and the hesitancy, you couldn’t make it worse by showing him a letter that would remind him of all the horrible things you did. 

You had to act fast, you had no clue when he’d be home, you had to destroy this letter. Your hands were still shaking as you picked the letter back up and rushed over to the fireplace. Grabbing some kindling you got the fire going, using a match to set the letter alight and throw it into the fire. 

A heavy feeling settled in your gut as you watched the letter burn. It was guilt, guilt that you were even in this position to begin with, the guilt of all the things you did with Ransom, guilt that you were hiding this from Andy. You thought for a second that maybe you should have shown it to him, the police could have done something, but it was too late the letter was just ash now. 

The sound of the front door opening had you quickly standing up, Andy poked his head into the living room his brows furrowed slightly “Why’s the fire going?” he asked. 

“Oh um it was quite cold after the walk with Carrie so I thought I’d make it nice and cosy” you lied brushing dust off of your hands. 

A smile tugs at Andy’s lips “Sounds nice, let me put this away and I’ll make us some hot drinks too” he offers. 

“Sounds great,” you say with a sigh of relief that he didn’t question it further, he gives you another smile before going to step away. 

All of sudden you considered telling him the truth even calling out to stop him, but when he looked back at you his brows now furrowed slightly in concern you couldn't do it. So instead you walked the short distance towards him, gently cupping his cheek and reaching up to kiss him. 

“I love you Andy” you whisper. 

Andy tilts his head slightly but still smiles “I love you too honey” he says softly. 

Andy let out a long sigh as he set another pasta dish on the draining board to dry only to look over and see so many more left to wash. He’d finally managed to get on top of all the food the neighbours had been dropping around, he took most of the excess to the homeless shelter, some were still in the freezer and the rest had been eaten. He swore if he ever saw another pasta dish for the rest of his life it would be too soon.

He decided to leave it there for now, the draining board was full anyway, grabbing a cloth he began to dry his hands. As he did so his eyes landed on his laptop, he’d been trying not to do much work on the case since all it did was make him feel angry and inadequate. Every time you’d seen him work on it too he could see the look of sadness in your eyes. 

But you were out today, over at Carrie’s for the afternoon so it would be the perfect opportunity to do it. Maybe he could continue looking into businesses that were near the site of your crash, ask if any of their employees had seen a damaged car drive past. 

He was just making his way around the kitchen island to his laptop when his phone started ringing. He paused throwing the towel on the counter before grabbing his phone and pulling it out to see it was Frank calling him. 

Andy didn’t even get a chance to say hello before Frank was ranting down the phone at him “Whoa, whoa, Frank slow down I can’t hear you, what are you saying?” Andy says plugging his other ear trying to hear Frank better.

He heard Frank take a deep breath before starting again “I just picked Mary up from her university class and she’s in an absolute state over Y/N” Frank explains. 

Andy’s brows furrow in concern “What? Why?” he asks.

“Some kids in class were talking about Y/N and she got all upset over it, Mary still hasn’t told me exactly what they said but she said it was mean and they said Y/N must be lying” Frank explains.

“Shit is Mary okay now?” Andy curses running his hand down his face. 

“She’s calmed down a bit now but she was in floods of tears when I picked her up, I hadn’t told her much about the case because she’s only 8 but I had to explain it all to help her understand it, now she’s upset and wants to talk to Y/N” Frank explains with a heavy sigh. 

“Sure, Y/N’s out with Carrie at the moment but tell Mary that she’ll call as soon as she gets home” Andy promises, worrying about how you’d feel having to talk about all this with Mary. 

“Thanks, I just can’t believe the nerve of those girls how did they even come to that conclusion…shit” Frank mutters “Have you watched Fox News today?”

“No we don’t watch that bullshit, do you?” Andy huffs shaking his head.

“No but I just turned the TV on and you might want to turn it on, I think I’ve found out why those girls said what they did” Frank says. 

Andy frowns walking into the living room and turning on the TV, he quickly changes the channel to Fox News a curse falling from his lips when he sees what Frank meant. Fox News was doing a report on your case but it wasn’t complimentary towards you. The anchors were discussing the case and how they just couldn’t believe Ransom would do what he did.  It only got worse when they cut to an interview with Ransom’s parents.

“So what did you make of the allegations?” the broadcaster asked.

Linda shook her head “Unbelievable, my son would never do anything like that” she said playing the part of a shocked parent well.

“Ransom may have made some mistakes when he was younger but he’s not a criminal, he loved Y/N” Richard continues rubbing Linda’s back soothingly.

“So you don’t believe Ransom held Y/N captive against her will?” The broadcaster asks. 

“No, she was never held against her will” Linda states with a definitive shake of her head “That’s all lies she’s told” 

“When we first met her we were suspicious of her, the romance was such a whirlwind with her pushing Ransom to get married, but we said nothing because he was so in love with her” Richard adds “Now our poor son is in jail for a crime he didn’t commit” 

“What the fuck is all bullshit! They can’t be saying this can they?” Frank exclaims. 

“It's not a police interview or court testimony so yeah they can” Andy grumbles barely containing his anger. 

“So what is Ransom’s side of the story?” The broadcaster asks leaning forward. 

“He’s still not entirely sure what happened, he said they got into a fight and he threatened to call off the wedding and that’s when Y/N stormed out of the house and went to the police and made up this whole story about him abducting her, claiming he used her amnesia against her” Linda exclaims, dabbing her dry eye with a tissue “I knew she only wanted him for his money, we’ve told him this and he still loves her”

“Amnesia?” the broadcaster presses. 

“Yes 4 months ago Y/N was in a terrible accident and lost her memory, she was already planning to leave her partner Andy Barber so Ransom thought it would be easier on her to just pretend she already had” Richard explains with a long sigh “he explained it all in this letter” he adds leaning forward to pass the broadcaster the letter. 

“I can’t believe this, god this family is fucked up” Frank mutters but Andy wasn’t paying him much attention. 

All Andy could focus on were the letters now being shown by Fox News. All of them, while addressed to his parents, were love letters to you. It made Andy sick. He knew he shouldn't but he ended up pausing the screen on one of them to read the letter. He read the way Ransom lamented to his parents, how heartbroken he was. He was trying to win the court of public opinion and relying on his grandfather’s fanbase to do so, it must have already gone viral if Mary had heard about it. 

The sound of the front door opening had Andy looking over his shoulder “I have to go” Andy muttered to Frank who was still ranting on when Andy hung up. 

You had a small smile on your face when you walked in but as soon as your eyes landed on the TV it quickly faded “What is this?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

“Ransom’s parents went on Fox News to tell his side of the story, it’s ridiculous they must have some connection with the owner or something, they even gave them letters from Ransom” Andy explains with an irritated huff shaking his head, beginning to pace back and forth beginning to rant.

“How- how did they know about them?” you whispered. 

It took Andy a moment to fully process what you said, and when he did he froze and slowly turned back around to face you “What do you mean how do they know about them?” he asks. 

Your eyes widened and you took a small step back “I-I-I- um- I-” you stuttered suddenly getting really flustered.

Andy’s brows furrowed in confusion as he watched you stutter and panic, it was like when he caught a defendant out on the stand. He thought for a moment replaying what you said in the context of the letters, glancing up at the TV he could see that the letter he had paused on didn’t show who it was addressed to. 

“Wait” Andy says holding out his hand “Have you been sent letters from Ransom?” 

You start fiddling with your fingers, looking down at the floor. It was an answer already but Andy was still praying you hadn’t. 

“Yes” you weakly whisper, not looking up from the floor. 

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Andy exclaims in disbelief. 

“I’m sorry I-I thought about it, I wanted to but I just couldn’t” you apologise. 

Andy lets out an irritated huff, he was furious that Ransom had found a way to send letters to you. Prisoners were not allowed any communication with the victims, he must have found a loophole and gotten his parents to forward it on to you. 

“Where are they? What did you do with them?” Andy demands, he needed to shut this down now by taking the letters to the police. 

“I-I burnt the first-” you started before Andy interrupted.

“You burnt them!” he practically shouted in disbelief “Why would you do that? It’s evidence! They’re going to use this against you and say you have something to hide!” 

“Andy I’m sorry i-i-” you stutter shaking your head. 

“He’s already doing everything he can to try and get out of this! We can’t be giving him more ammunition!” Andy roars, his anger and fear getting the better of him. 

“Please stop shouting- I’m sorry- I’m so so sorry” you sobbed completely breaking down. 

Andy’s shoulders dropped as he watched you sob “shit” he muttered to himself walking over “I’m sorry honey I shouldn’t have shouted, I’m angry at him not you” he apologised wrapping his arms around you, breathing out a sigh of relief when you didn’t push him away. 

“I regretted it straight away, I didn’t burn them all just the first, the rest I just hid” you admit looking up at him, tears still streaming down your face.

Andy let out a sigh of relief, they still had something to go to the police with “Okay, why didn’t you tell me about them?” he asked carefully. 

You took a long, deep, shaky breath before answering “I- I didn’t want you to see them” you whispered. 

Andy let out a long sigh ��Okay, well we can take those ones to the police because this is witness intimidation and they can put a stop to it, take away his privileges, it’s all going to be okay I promise”

“They can?” you ask, doubt clear in your voice. 

“Yes it’s all going to be okay I promise” Andy swears kissing the top of your head.

“Okay I’ll- I’ll go get them,” you say wiping away the last of your tears and stepping out of Andy’s embrace. 

You felt sick as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom where you had hidden the letters. You had received one every day since the first one, and each time a new one arrived you considered telling Andy but they kept getting more and more graphic and detailed and you just couldn’t bring yourself to. 

You knew it was a mistake now, if Andy was right the police could have put a stop to this already. You just didn’t want him to read all the horrible things you had done. Read how dirty and tainted you were. 

Walking back down the stairs you handed Andy the 6 letters you had received from Ransom, brushing your hands down your arms once he had taken them. He quickly flicked through them and you watched anxiously as his eyes darted over the pages. Thankfully he didn’t read them for long so you hoped he hadn’t read the worst of them. 

He gave you a tight smile as he reached out to take your hand “We’re going to fix this I promise” he says kissing the top of your head quickly “c’mon let’s go” 

You follow after him, nervously picking at your coat that you still wore as Andy pulled his on. You gave him a small smile when he gave you a reassuring one and took your hand. As you stepped outside you spotted a couple of news vans parked outside, Andy must have done too because he picked up the pace towards the car. 

He opened the car door for you but as he did so you noticed something had been spraypainted on your garage door. You quickly tap him on the arm and point it out, his back straightening as he turns and spots the words ‘cheating whore’ written in red spray paint. 

“Fuckers” he growled “I’ll deal with that later I promise,” he says gently pushing you to get in the car, shutting the car door a little harder than he probably meant to.

As Andy made his way around to the driver's seat, you kept your head down brushing your hands down your jeans and picking at your nails. You kept your head down the entire drive to the police station, not only to avoid the press outside your home but to avoid the stares of passersbyers. It felt like everyone you passed was judging you, no longer trusting your side of the story. Glancing up at Andy you began to worry if he was doubting it too. 

Pulling up outside of the police station you could see there was press here too and you suddenly felt sick, your body beginning to shake as you stared up at the building. 

“Hey,” Andy says softly reaching out to take your hand “It’s going to be okay, I promise” 

You nod your head “Won’t this look bad? Us going to the police?” you ask quietly.

“No, it would look worse if the police came to us, by doing this it’s showing we have nothing to hide and we don’t” Andy explains gently squeezing your hand.

You force a small smile before moving to climb out of the car. Andy followed after you, gently taking your hand as you walked into the police station to hand over the letters. You were surprised to find Inspector Blanc putting on his jacket about to leave.

“Ah I was just about to come find you” he smiles when he spots you. 

“You saw Fox News?” Andy asks. 

“Yes, it’s a dangerous game they’re playing” Blanc sighs “I was coming to ask if you had received any letters, the others doubted it but if they can get themselves on the news, they can pass on a letter” he shrugs glancing over his shoulder. 

“Well it was a good hunch” Andy says passing the letters over to him “There were 7 in total”

“Seven?” Blanc says his brow arching “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asks glancing over at you. 

You shrugged your shoulders “I dunno, i-i- panicked- didn’t realise it was something you could stop” you admit “I only told Andy after he saw the news”

Blanc nods as he flips through the letters, reading each one, you nervously gulp as he does so, trying to read the expression on his face “Well given the contents it's understandable” he says “There’s only six here, you said there was seven” he then points out. 

“I burnt the first one it- it was a mistake I know but- but those are the more…graphic ones… each one got more intense” you swallow looking down at the floor unable to bring yourself to see the look on Andy’s face. 

“We’re guessing he sent them to his parents and they forwarded them on, which is witness intimidation” Andy suggests his hand squeezing yours slightly. 

“Damn right it is” Blanc grumbles “C’mon let's talk about this more upstairs,” he says gesturing for you to follow him deeper into the building. 

“Thank you” Andy sighs placing his hand on the small of your back to guide you. 

You wrap your arms around you tightly as Blanc leads the both of you through the precinct towards the other detectives who instantly stand to attention when they notice you. 

“It’s a good thing we didn’t settle on a wager” Blanc states as he slaps the letters into Detective Elliot’s hand.

Elliot quickly flips through them his eyes widening before he passes them over to Wagner to read, you shift uncomfortably as they do so worried that maybe Ransom was planting seeds of doubt in their minds. 

“Were you really not going to check if she received any letters?” Andy demands hands clenched into fists by his side. 

“We’re sorry it won’t happen again” Elliot promises holding his hands up to placate Andy, he then turns his attention to Wagner “Get in contact with the prison and shut this down, take away all privileges if you have to” he orders. 

Wagner nods passing the letters back to Elliot before stepping away to make the call “We’ll be submitting these to evidence, see if we can lift any fingerprints” Blanc reassures you “We can promise he won’t be able to contact you any more”

You breathe out a shaky sigh of relief “Thank you” you manage to say. 

“It's the least we can do, have you guys experienced any other negative attention following the news?” Elliot asks grabbing a notepad. 

“Yes our garage door was graffitied” Andy sighs glancing down at you, you immediately advert your gaze and look down at the floor. 

“Okay we can station an officer outside to prevent any more vandalism, is there anything else?” Elliot asks. 

“No” Andy states as you say “I-”

Andy’s brows furrow as he turns to look down at you “Honey? What is it?” he asks placing a calming hand on your shoulder. 

“I-” you start again before screwing your eyes shut and shaking your head “It’s nothing” you mutter.

“Honey if it’s worrying you it can’t be nothing” he says softly turning you to face him, hands running up and down your arms soothingly. 

“The same day the first letter arrived these girls ran over to me and Carrie at the park, it was all a bit of a blur but they were fans of Harlan and Ransom and said they didn’t blame me for being with him” You admit quietly, looking down at the floor.

Andy’s hands tense for a split second around your arms before relaxing and returning to their soothing rhythm “Why didn’t you tell me?” Andy says his tone soft. 

“I didn’t want you to worry” you whisper finally looking back up at him and seeing the pained look on his face “I’m sorry” you apologise as tears collect in your eyes. 

“It's okay, it's okay” Andy sighs wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace and rubbing your back soothingly. 

You let out a shuddering breath as you buried your face into his chest and deeply breathed in his cologne which always seemed to calm you. Closing your eyes you could almost pretend none of this was happening, that you weren’t in a police station handing over letters that detailed everything you were guilty of. 

“We promise we’ll try and get on top of the press, we can release a statement and do a press conference to dispel the rumours” Elliot promises “The preliminary hearing is in two weeks so hopefully we can collect the final bits of evidence we need to ensure he goes down for this”

“In the meantime, it might be good to get away” Blanc suggests “Stay with a family or-or a friend and have some peace and quiet before the ruckus of the trail starts” he says gesturing with his hand. 

“Won’t that look like we’re running away?” you ask glancing up at Andy.

He lets out a long sigh considering it before shaking his head “No because we have nothing to run from, they can try and paint you as the villain all they like but we know you’re innocent and the evidence shows it too” he states “we can go visit Frank and Mary” he suggests.

A smile involuntarily creeps onto your lips at the thought of heading down south to see Frank and Mary “Yeah.. That sounds nice” you nod. 

Andy gives you a soft smile before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head “Great, I’ll give Frank a call” 

You give him another smile hoping that maybe this getaway would be what fixed everything between you. Time away from the press, nothing to remind Andy of everything you’d done.

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[applestorms]

for the character ask game: I'll throw Light at you :D I figure he might be an interesting one for the "first impression" vs "what do you think of him now" comparison

oh lord. that might be kinda difficult actually asldfkjsdklfj i started reading DN sooooo long ago... BUT i will do my best!! (ask game)

first impression: i genuinely don't remember all that well. to be entirely honest, i don't know if i even thought about him all that much at first-- if i'm not Fixated on a story for some reason (like Serious fixations that i blog about a lot on here, or even just paying extra close attention like for an assignment or something since i watch a lotta movies for film classes) i tend to not do a whole lot of analysis for my first go at a story =3=" like i'm almost Always shocked by plot twists cause i won't even bothering stopping to think "oh shit, what's gonna happen next," i'll just be too Invested in the Moment to think ahead. (guess i kinda do that in actual irl social situations too... all my thinking comes afterwards LMFAO i'm very no thoughts head empty all Survival Instinct when i'm talking to people. whoops.) the fact that i started reading the manga way back in my freshman year of high school (Quite a few years ago now) also doesn't help. lmfao. and also the fact that i stopped reading midway through like, vol. 9/10... ;w;

if i had to guess though, i think my (somewhat fandom-osmosis influenced) view of him was that he was kind of an uptight dumbass with highly questionable morals. scrolling all the way back through the death note tag on my archive kinda points at this, like my mild amusement at these three posts speaks to that kind of surface level view of him. i certainly didn't have a lot of nuance or original hot takes involved in how i thought of him-- not until this post fucking exploded my mind a couple months ago and dragged me into the Trenches for good. idk though, i think a lot of my currents views on him were still present, just kind of dormant or not yet evolved...

impression now: my beautiful evil wife. next question

favorite moment: ehehe i've said this before, but his death!! in the manga specifically, but i enjoy any solid light death in any adaptation (the stairs in the anime & requiem in the musical, in particular). i think i've read the last few chapters of DN the most overall, from his speech until those 2 black pages... this panel is forever burned into my mind as one of if not The best page in the entirety of DN to me.

perhaps i'm just biased since i re-read the entirety of DN a second time just to remember the context so i'd be prepared getting into the ending, but that final volume of the series (eh final two volumes? i have the black edition, vol.6) will forever hit the hardest to me. light's Terror upon realizing he's going to die is just so absolutely deliciously horrible, it makes me sick to my fucking stomach in my favorite way. it's such a cathartic comeuppance, a vicious humbling that no other adaptation has really managed to get at in the same way for me. luv watching u die bbygrl <33

idea for a story: cries forever. uhm... lawlight but it's this tweet...?

unpopular opinion: this is also kinda hard to answer cause i feel like most of my Hot DN Takes are just. ways of adding additional nuance to common fandom takes? e.g. i don't think light is all that overtly bigoted, or at least not in a way that He himself is aware of. like, i've definitely made a joke about light being a republican before, but realistically i think light's politics are just about whatever he thinks will make the most people like him-- he just skews more conservative a lot of times cause he's in a very privileged, pro-cop household and social environment.

i guess my hot take might be related to that, actually-- i've talked in-depth about my thoughts on light's intelligence before so i won't get into That again, but as a kind of sidenote to those points, i don't think light is very emotionally aware when it comes to reading himself. part of this might just be a side effect of the KIRA stuff, the Cycles he traps himself in to avoid having to think about all the ways he Might Actually be a Bad Person, but part of it might just be his immaturity or (male) socialization as well?

i actually find this kind of relatable about him, sometimes-- like in the second half of the series, he often responds to Panic with an anger response, which he usually takes out on either misa, ryuk, or the JTF (usually matsuda, since that's the most Acceptable target to get annoyed at for dumbassery). light Feels everything very strongly, often in contrast to L who very rarely gets attached to things (except for the rare cases where he gets Super attached) but he doesn't really have a good outlet for dealing with those feelings so he just represses everything instead. you can see this w/ his depression in the second half of the series too-- Work & L & KIRA, balancing all those titles and responsibilities is what matters, so he autopilots through it all in a desperate bid to escape facing the fact that his soul has been withering for the last half a decade since L's death.

it's hard to be a person when you're trying to meet Everybody's expectations, i guess, and KIRA does nothing but provide light with even more expectations to live up to if he wants the validation that will definitely totally absolutely make him happy and his life perfect and amazing and meaningful.

favorite relationship: i mean, ship-wise it's obviously lawlight, though i have grown somewhat of a soft spot for matsulight after writing them recently. for character dynamics just in general though-- i really really really like how good yagamane are at casually torturing each other just by Existing, one day i'd like to write a fic about those two set at some point during the time skip. i also love any moonriver interactions, ofc, those are some of the funniest in the series just for how fucking dramatic light is, especially in comparison to the Dead Inside-ness of near. the ways that light idolizes his dad is also very interesting to me, and i'd like to look into that more.

as for more underrated dynamics... i think i'd like to look into some mello/light stuff a little more sometime :3c ehehe

favorite headcanon: HM. hard to pick a favorite. uhh as more of a minor one, i really like that idea that light counts to 40 to calm himself down. actually, speaking of-- in terms of Mental Illness headcanons that i don't see super often, i really like giving light anxiety. for no particular reason. <- (projecting) askfjsdjk ok but like in terms of general/social anxiety specifically, not just OCD (though i'm fond of that one too). this is mostly because i think light's anger problems are just a product of his underlying anxiety mis-management, though again i may just be projecting SO. probably about time to end this post huh. askldjfksldjfkd

thanks for the ask =3=

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile (V.2) Chapter Twenty-One

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: M for Mature. We've begun the 18+ content

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child. 

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

"I am the worst mother ever!" You bawled as you buried your face in Sullivan's shoulder as he held you close, doing his best to comfort you. "I can't believe I forgot Iruma's birthday!"

"You've been under a lot of stress, sweetie," Your adoptive father reassured, rubbing circles along your back. "I'm sure Iruma understands, you know how he is."

"That makes it worse," You cried. You knew Iruma would forgive you and shrug it off, if he hadn’t already. After all, Shichiro had said he hadn’t seemed too concerned about it, nor was he lying. 

But to you, his disregard was worse than him being upset. It was a stark reminder that until just a few years ago, Iruma never had his birthday celebrated. No one -- not even his own parents -- cared for him enough to take the time and celebrate his life..

It tore at your heart because you knew even if he didn't act like it, you were positive your lapse of memory had reminded him of those dark days. Did he think you were as careless as his biological parents? That now that your lives had improved, you didn't want to celebrate such things?

"Then let's make it up to our boy, hmm?" Sullivan offered, breaking through your thoughts as he tilted your chin to look at him and wipe your tears. "We’ll throw him a party for this year and all the birthdays I missed as well."

You nodded your head eagerly at the idea, the thought sounding perfect to you. 

Yes. You would make up for lost time; not just the last few weeks, but the ones you had missed as well, from birth until that fateful day you met him. To make sure Iruma knew exactly how loved and cherished he was.

--+--

You were quick to learn that Demonic Rites were the devilish version of a grand birthday party. While Opera and Sullivan took the lead coordinating the event since they were experts in the field, you helped as best you could such as choosing some of the dishes to be served and picking out the presents. Yet the greatest task you had was making sure Iruma was kept preoccupied as not to notice anything was amiss, which the entirety of the Misfit class was all too happy to assist with once you confided in them.

While traditionally Demonic Rites were saved for milestone birthdays - with much smaller events for the other years - Sullivan was all too happy to use the excuse that it was the first birthday he was able to celebrate with his grandson to excuse the celebration. He was apparently going all out from what you could gather, renting a whole other castle. 

Though as it turned out, that was tradition as well. Even demons believed in bad luck and holding a Rite in your own dwelling was a surefire way to invoke misfortune. It was also the reason for the costumes; in case Bad Luck spirits did find the revelers.  

Apparently, spirits couldn't curse you if they couldn't recognize you. To you, it didn’t make much sense, but you weren’t going to balk at tradition. At least, not this one. 

"Life is precious in the Netherworld," Shichiro explained over the phone the evening before the Rite. He had been a wealth of information about the traditions over the whirlwind of the week. "Our world is harsh, and once upon a time it was not uncommon for a demon to be killed before reaching adulthood. So we take every precaution to protect it, especially when we celebrate it.

"It's also a time where demons show their gratitude for their peers. After all, demons do not frequently bond the way humans do, and showing appreciation and kinship is usually very rare. The Misfit class are truly misfits in that regard…"

They certainly were. Not just for demons, but you had a feeling that even on earth they'd be an odd bunch. Yet you couldn't help but love all of them, hearing the debacle that occurred earlier that day as they fought over who was Iruma's friend and who was the boy's 'soulmate'.

You had to agree, Clara and Az seemed to be Iruma’s platonic (or so you assumed, at least) soulmates. Those three had a bond like no other that it was heartwarming, inspiring, and slightly terrifying when you thought of what those three could do if they wanted. 

But the entire class itself was bonded tighter than any friend group you had seen - let alone experienced. You were sure that those thirteen students could achieve anything if they set their mind to it. And somehow, Iruma was more-or-less the ringleader of their troupe.

"You're coming tomorrow, right?" You asked Shichiro, glancing at the costume that hung from your closet door. Both Sullivan and Opera had assisted with choosing it…

Well - they had done more than assist, to be honest. It was more like they had chosen it and you meekly agreed when you saw the looks on their faces. Not that it was something you hated or even disliked; it was beautiful, and something that had caught your eye right away.

Your only reservation was the fact it was so… decadent, even for a costume ball. It had such beautiful wispy fabric that flowed with the slightest breeze, the waist framed with a corset-vest that - thankfully - hadn't felt too uncomfortable when you tried it on, and a high neckline that would hide your lack of wings. 

And a crown of flowers and faux horns that completed the piece.

You worried it was too fancy, but assumed the two demons would know best. You also couldn’t help but wonder what Shichiro's reaction to it would be. After all, no matter what you wore -- a casual outfit or something more special -- his gaze always lingered enough to cause you to feel beautiful.

You wondered if you could actually make his jaw drop. 

"Nothing could make me miss it," Shichiro assured, his voice deep and smooth it made tingles race down your spine. "I'll be there, promise."

--+--

Sullivan and Opera had left early to finalize the preparations, leaving you to escort Iruma to the surprise party. Thankfully, Opera had hitched the Nightmares to one of the smaller carriages before leaving so you didn't ruin your dress. Especially knowing Deinos, who loved to be as impish as she could be.

The Nightmares knickered softly as you and Iruma exited the mansion, both dressed in your costumes. "To Lord Sullivan," You instructed the demonic-horses simply as you opened the carriage door. They snorted in understanding, making you smile as you patted Lampon's flank before boarding.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Iruma asked as the carriage began to move.

"It's a secret~" You answered in a singsong voice, smiling at his pout. "You'll love it though, I promise."

His pout didn't change, though he watched as you smoothed down your skirt, still unused to such rich material. "Well, you look beautiful, mom."

You blushed, "And you look very handsome, Iruma. Who would have thought we both could clean up so well, hmm?"

He laughed at that, and soon both of you were sharing memories of when you were less than presentable. Such as being covered in fish guts after being tripped - or when he came back from a forging trip, completely covered in mud and leaves. It had taken weeks to get every bit of mud and grime from the tiny shower afterwards, but you refused to spray him with the hose used to clean the floor of the workshop as many had recommended. Mainly because the water was ice cold and it was late autumn and winter had been attempting to set in.

The ride wasn't very long, and soon the carriage slowed to a stop. Opera opened the door before you could even think about it, holding a hand out to Iruma and then you once the boy was on the ground.

But before you could take a look around, a blindfold settled over your eyes. You jerked in surprise, fear and panic setting in as a pair of large hands settled on your shoulders. "Calm down, my dear," Sullivan reassured softly, thumbs rubbing calming circles into the bone of your shoulder. "We don't want to ruin the surprise."

"This is Iruma's Demonic Rite!" You protested as your adopted father led you (presumably) to where the Rite was to take place.

"Do you think I would celebrate my grandson's life, and not my daughter's?" Sullivan chuckled as a groan of old, heavy doors opening filled the air. A sound you were familiar with, given the Library's own doors perchance to complain every time they were opened.

But surely you weren't there. You heard hushed yet excited whispers, making your heart pound as Sullivan continued to guide you. He gently coaxed you up a couple of steps before turning you around and encouraging you to sit.

A moment later you heard Opera guide Iruma into a seat next to yours. There was a hushed countdown before the blindfold fell from your eyes, revealing the elaborately decorated ballroom with a large bonfire burning brightly in a pit at the center. The Misfits along with a few other Babyls students cheered your name along with Iruma's, making your heart catch in your throat.

"Mom?" Iruma asked softly as Sullivan and Opera joined in with the others as they began to dance-- an ancient dance, full of guttural words that truly made it seem like a demonic ritual.

"A Demonic Ritual is how they celebrate birthdays," You explained in a hush whisper, entranced by the performance. "We -- grandpa, Opera, and I -- planned on it being a secret, and to also make up for missing your actual birthday this year. I didn't think they'd plan on putting me in the spotlight too…"

Iruma's hand found yours, a smile on his face and that cheery light in his large blue eyes. "We've always celebrated our birthdays together. I was actually just telling Professor Balam that the other day…"

Oh. Oh. You caught sight of the tall broad demon standing apart, watching the revelers dance while also apparently taking a head count.

Those sneaky demons. Your heart grew warm at the realization that while you thought you were in on the surprise for Iruma, the three demons had been building a surprise for you as well.

As if he was aware of your gaze, Shichiro looked towards you, his expression shifting into a smile as he offered a small wave.

"It seems we are missing a guest," Opera said as he suddenly appeared on Iruma's other side. You tore your gaze away from Shichiro for a moment, and in a flash of light and smoke, a familiar white puffball appeared, looking disgruntled as always.

"EGGY SENSEI!" The Misfits cheered excitedly, and Kalego's reluctant presence seemed to be the last thing needed for the celebration to kick into full swing.

Over the last several months, you had slowly gotten used to the positive attention from the students as well as the teachers of Babyls. But that did little to prepare you for sitting in the spotlight as the guests symbolically gave part of their life to you as they poured out the burning water into the central bonfire. Or as each knelt one by one, offering their gifts with the heartfelt words: "Thank you for being born and living amongst us."

"I appreciate the love and kindness you give us, Mrs. Suzuki."

"I'm so happy I get to have two moms! My siblings are so jealous!"

"I know you're not my mother, but it really feels like you are sometimes."

"Your beauty is outstanding, my lady! May you continue to age so gracefully!"

"Thank you for caring so much."

"Thank you for bringing Iruma to us!"

"I appreciate your dedication to Babyls and its students," Kalego grumbled begrudgingly, offering a small delicate flower as a gift. (Where he got one considering his Summoned state, you weren't sure.) "You are one among few others whom I can tolerate."

"That's high praise coming from the professor," Iruma whispered as if you weren't already aware. Yet any reply died on your lips as Shichiro approached, quickly bowing low as his green feathered wings spread out wide to their full extent.

Yes, the others did the same as a sign of respect - but something seemed different….

Or maybe you were just head over heels for Shichiro that seeing him like that, knowing just how strong and powerful he was yet showing his weakest spot to you…

Your thoughts were interrupted as he looked up, his gaze focused on both you and Iruma as he spoke your names. "Thank you both for living in our world, and for being amongst us."

The sentiment had been expressed before, but by those oblivious to the reality of you and Iruma's true circumstances. But he knew. He knew it all. Your throat grew tight as he presented his gifts, hands briefly grazing yours as you accepted the box as your gazes locked.

The warmth, the sincerity, the love in his eyes meant the world to you. He meant the world to you.

You struggled with the urge to simply slide from your chair to your knees and pull him close for a kiss to reciprocate those tender emotions. Except you were still aware of everyone else watching, so you just caressed his hand deliberately with a smile hopefully conveying your feelings.

His eyes crinkled as he returned your smile, fingers lacing briefly before he pulled away and stood. Your eyes followed him as he stepped away.

Until Sullivan stepped up, his own eyes glittering knowingly. He didn't say a word, but knelt down as he took Iruma's hand as well as yours into his. His black wings opened, but instead of splaying them in a submissive gesture, he curled around the three of you.

"You both mean so much to me, you are truly my treasures," He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tightly. "I am sincerely thankful you both came into my life."

"Grandpa…"

"Dad…"

This time, you did leave your seat, having the same idea as Iruma as you wrapped your arms around both your father and son, and feeling their arms around you.

You were loved. Just as strongly as you loved them, they loved you.

--+--

The rest of the party was truly a party. You swore you had been to more festivals and parties in the last few months than before in your prior life.

But instead of standing on the outskirts of the party with Kalego and Balam as you typically ended up doing, you were drawn into the menagerie this time. You danced with several students as well as Opera, Sullivan, and then oddly Fluffego, when he was all but shoved in your arms by an impish Opera. He acted begrudgingly as you twirled him around, his small hands holding onto your fingers. You had your toes stepped on as well as stepped on a few yourself, but it was all brushed off with a laugh and even more dancing.

You hadn't had unbridled fun like this for such a long time. Your face hurt from smiling so widely, ribs aching from laughing.

But your favorite part was when large warm hands wrapped around your waist when you had slipped towards the table laden with food and drinks. "You look beautiful," Shichiro whispered as he held you tight around your midsection, making you smile. You had briefly danced with him, no more than thirty seconds, during one where you were constantly changing partners. Otherwise it seemed like the universe had conspired to keep you separated.

"I'm sure I would've been more lovely if my personal hairdresser had helped," You teased lightly as you glanced over the treats, taking your time to enjoy being held against him. "But I have a nagging suspicion he was in on the surprise."

"Iruma explained how you had always celebrated your birthday with him, and never told him when your actual birthday was," He admitted, chin resting atop your head despite the decorative horns. "We -- Lord Sullivan, Senpai, and myself-- figured it would be best to continue the tradition. Especially considering you would likely refuse to tell us once you knew what it may entail."

You bit your lip out of reflex to hide your smile. "You three really do know me well, don't you?" Because he was right; once learning of Demonic Rites, and knowing Sullivan's own tendencies to spoil you, you would've kept your lips sealed.

Which was related in a way to why you never told Iruma which day you were born. You hadn't wanted the boy to give up more of his hard earned money on your behalf. Sharing his birthday had been a bit of a compromise in a way, so you both were able to celebrate each other while you could make sure he didn't use a lot of his meager funds on you.

"Both you and Iruma are completely selfless," he answered, squeezing you tighter. "To the point I really wish you two would have a bit more of a sense of self-preservation."

"So when exactly is your birthday?" You asked after a moment, making him chuckle at your poor attempt at changing the topic.

He squeezed you tighter, adjusting to nuzzle your neck gently; considering his mask was still in place. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

You laughed at that, leaning your head back and finally looking up at him. "I love you, Shichiro, but I know better than that."

A flash of surprise crossed his face and his grip tightened to the point of nearly taking your breath away. "...do you, really?"

You realized your slip. You had admitted to yourself - to others - your feelings, but never to him. And, well - for good reason from what you understood about demon culture.

But… screw it.

"Yes," You answered, twining your hands with his. "I really do love you."

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, the look in his eye changing slightly. He guided you to turn in his arms so you were face to face, still holding you tight against him. "Demons, especially those who are courting," He continued, his voice threatening to become even huskier, "don't say those words freely, or lightly."

You had gleaned as much from the books you had read. Some said it freely to those they were crushing on, and during little flings. But once a demon entered courtship, the word became much more meaningful to their Intended. Not unlike the term 'Aishitemasu' in Japanese. 

And yes, you two had just started courting - and from what you read, the courting period could last several months to years - but there was no denying how you felt. He had come to mean so much to you, and you could easily imagine him being in every part of your life. Not just the romantic moments, but the mundane parts of life; like doing dishes, or chores (if Opera ever allowed that to happen again).

That was one of your ambitions. To have him by your side for the rest of your life if possible. To build a life with him. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down so you could face him eye to eye as you stood on your tiptoes. "I love you, Balam Shichiro. With all my heart. And I can't imagine being with anyone else but you."

Before you could blink, his hands cupped your backside and he lifted you up, your body pressed against his as you fought the urge to wrap your legs around his hips, knowing in your current dress that would be very inappropriate.

Shichiro's eyes were desperate in more than one way as he searched yours, undoubtedly using his bloodline ability to find a hint of a lie. "One more time?"

You couldn't help but smile before you cupped his face in your hands, meeting his dark eyes and holding his intense gaze. "I love you, Shichiro. And I'll say it as many times as you want me to."

If you weren't in a room full of students - as well as your father and Opera, (and you supposed Kalego as well) - you would have happily removed his mask to kiss him properly, but you knew he was self conscious of his scar and refrained. That, and you had a very good idea his self control was on the verge of slipping; as was yours, to be honest. One kiss would lead to more as it always seemed to tend to, and you knew you wouldn't want to stop.

"I love you too," He finally admitted as your words sunk in. "So, so much." There was a hint of desperation to his voice, which paired with the way his grip on you was more than just supporting you against his frame, but feeling the plush curve of your butt.

There was no denying the thoughts running through your head, or the yearning that filled your body. You bit your lip as your fingers as well as your gaze traveled down his neck, feeling the strong cords of muscle beneath. He wasn't wearing the collar of feathers, but instead a dark, high collared top that felt like velvet beneath your fingers.

It would be so easy to push it away and press your lips to the sensitive skin there and listen to him hold back a whimper and groan as you tortured him. The thought of reducing him to a whimpering mess always tempted you, making you bite your lip as your mind drifted into the gutter.

Shichiro said your name quietly, making it sound like a plea as you continued to rub the velvet cloth trying to feel his muscular shoulders beneath as you thought.

You met his gaze, which felt as hot and heavy as the feeling settling in your lower gut. You knew what you wanted to do - what you thought he wanted to do too - but were uncertain how to proceed. Or rather, hesitant to take that next step. Was it being too bold?

Screw it. Fortune favored the bold, right? Be ambitious. Be selfish. 

"Why…don't we slip away somewhere more private?" You asked hesitantly, your attempt to be quiet making you sound a bit more sultry than intended.

His grip tightened even more, and you felt a hint of something hard press against your stomach. Yet instead of eagerly agreeing or even just carrying you away, (as you may have thought about more than once in previous daydreams) he protested - but with obvious reluctance. "It's your Rite, and…"

"Is there an unwritten rule that I have to stay here when I'd rather be alone with you?" You asked. Because devi, your mind was fully in the gutter and the thought of trying to pretend you were totally not thinking such things while you tried to mingle with everyone else sounded like torture.

And not the pleasant kind you hoped waited for you in the near future.

"Well, no," He admitted after a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. "But would you really rather sneak away with me than stay and celebrate?"

Devi, how could a demon be so pure? "One hundred percent yes," You replied firmly before boldly adding on: "To the point I don't care where we go, as long as it's somewhere private and we won't be disturbed." Because hell or heaven help you if you couldn't at least get him half-undressed so you could explore his body with both your hands and lips. It was taking every bit of your self control as it was, with those thoughts running in your mind while being braced against him, the growing firmness pressing against you left little doubt he was having similar thoughts.

There was a moment of silence as his gaze became distant and unfocused, his cheeks turning bright red."Shichiro…?" You called softly after the moment stretched on. He snapped out of his thoughts, though his cheeks stained red even more.

"I, uh, well, I-I have been wondering if you would like to, um, come to my home? I've been working on my nest…."

Oh. Oh. That was much more than finding a closet or unoccupied room. It was your turn to blush, your heart racing in anticipation as well as more than a little bit of anxiety.

You wanted to - you really wanted to - but you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. It had been such a long time - what felt like a lifetime to be honest - long before Iruma came into your life, since you had been with someone. And while kissing and petting had been second nature when it came to Shichiro….

Well, your daydreams hadn't quite prepared you for the real possibility.

Yet, again, you wanted to. And he was bound to be a more thoughtful lover than you had experienced before, demon or not. (Hell, he already was.)

After what felt like forever, you finally took the metaphorical step and nodded while biting your lip. "I-I would like that."

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma--+--

"They seriously don't think they're being subtle, right?" Soi sighed as he watched the two adults head towards the exit. Well, Balam walking somewhat stiffly with you cradled in his arms, your face red as a tomato but laughing.

Granted, his ability made disappearing easy, and also made it more noticeable when others tried to sneak off… but, still. That was about as obvious as anyone could be without making a loud announcement.

"Soi!" Leid jumped, startled by the demon's sudden presence. "You have got to stop doing that!"

"Are you talking about our two love bird teachers?" Elizabetta asked with a giggle, not as easily startled as their classmate. She also had noticed the pair, but was delighted by the turn of events. After all, their romance was something straight out of her own daydreams, making her hope even more that she would have a fairytale romance as well. "Aren't they adorable?"

"That's one word for it," Soi acknowledged, not as enamored with the situation as she was. "I might want to adjust my bet…"

"You and everyone else," Jazz agreed, summoned by the word 'bet'. He was already pulling out the notebook he was using to keep track of the massive pool going. "Lets see, are you wanting to change when you think their wedding day will be, or when Professor Balam will have mom knocked up?"

"Are you still taking bets?" Opera asked after overhearing the four students discuss their options. All four froze, glancing at the security demon and expecting a reaction much like Kalego's when he had found the betting during one of his lectures. (Granted, shortly after he had placed his own as well. He just didn't appreciate it being discussed during class.)

Instead, there was no anger behind Opera's placid expression, just simple curiosity.

"Er, yeah…." Jazz answered as Soi disappeared and both Elizabetta and Leid stepped away from the feline demon.

"Good. Both Lord Sullivan and myself would like to participate…"

[bright-and-burning]

book update:

got a quarter of the way through the davinci code back in march before dying on it (i’m waiting for angels and demons or whatever the first one is called to come off hold, and then i’ll try again) which led to a lengthy lull in reading before i switched to ebooks and found my groove again BUT

read the entirety of the (currently published) thursday murder club series. loved it. cried through a large chunk of the last devil alive. laughed through the entirety of the series. kind of perfectly up my alley honestly, funny irreverent oddball mystery without grimdark shit but also not without stakes or depth. desperately need it to be september already so i can read the next one

read the library of the unwritten and the archive of the forgotten (a.j. hackworth). also loved it. love a funny fantasy set in a library. cried with one of these as well! incredible concept (what if there was a library in hell for all the stories yet to be or never to be written), prickly flawed loveable characters unwillingly becoming attached to each other, magic and politics and betrayal, the whole nine yards. for some reason the third book isn’t available as an ebook at any of the three massive library systems i have cards for?? so i’m gonna have to go in person and check out the physical book i suppose

realistically i should start going through and reading the LARGE backlog of books i own that i haven’t read. but i just checked out the art forger by b.a. shapiro bc one of my parents had a physical copy from the library (i think my dad checked out after i took him to the museum at the center of the story) and it was kind of intriguing from the summary + the boston of it all. i’ve made it through the first chapter and im not clicking terribly easy with it. first person for a whole book just isn’t my thing (though i love a weird first person interlude in certain circumstances. when done well), so idk if ill stick with it. especially since i should really be devoting every bit of spare time i have to embroidering so i can finish this shirt before silverstone lol

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject To Change Chapter 2 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Don't like don't read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i’m sorry.

——————————————————————————

Silently stalking closer i planned to just grab it and get back to where i left Robin i was startled by a Loud shout of. 

“HELP HELP I’M KIDNAPPED SOMEONE HELP THEY TIED TO A TREE”

The deer of course ran away as soon as the wailing started and I was left once again without anything to eat.

At this point it was a wonder that i did not feel any Hunger Pains but i sure WAS feeling Angry now as this was the second time i got interrupted while getting something to eat.

All but Dashing through the surrounding greenery not caring if the branches cut my skin I waltzed into the clearing I had left Robin in, who was still shouting but stopped when he saw me.

Yanking him from the tree and holding him in front of my face i hissed angrily 

“What’s the big idea? you WANT some Monster to come get you? Because of your screaming I lost the Deer i was hunting so I didn’t get anything to eat yet again! do that one more time and you’re the one to replace the meat, got it?!”

He was looking at me thoroughly horrified and with tears beginning to form in his eyes while he shook in my hand struggling to breathe from me holding him a bit too tight

“I’m sorry! I'm Sorry! I saw a Road and thought if someone was there they would get me free! I’m sorry! i didn’t know you already had seen something I'm sorry! please don’t kill me”

He cried out, starting to weep softly to himself.

Looking at the weeping boy in my grasp I started to feel a bit guilty for scaring him like this. 

I changed how I held him so he could breathe easier and instead cupped him to my chest next to my heart, sighing. 

“I’m not gonna kill you, just don’t scream like that again okay?”

I tried to calm him down while not looking at him.

The entirety of this nonsense was Harder than I thought, I never had to take care of another living being and I did not know what to do.

“Look i apologize for shouting at you but i got angry and i really haven’t had anything of sustenance in three days I'm surprised my stomach didn’t just eat itself yet”

He was still curled up but he stopped weeping into my shirt but he kept refusing to look at me.

“Also, you mentioned a road? I don’t think there’s supposed to be anything this far out? Can you point me to it?”

He looked up and pointed towards a place a bit down the slight slope we were on and I could actually see a sort of path there.

“Can you stay quiet this time when I check that out?”

I asked him softly and started walking to where he pointed at me trying to be as quiet as I could once again.

Robin still didn’t really look at me but he did keep quiet until we reached what did look like a small road in the middle of a forest but it was far more muddy than any human made path and had no footprints that could belong to any sort of human.

It did however have lots of animal prints like Deer and what i assumed to be wolves

“this is an animal trail! oh that’s actually lucky!”

Robin finally looked at me, suddenly seeming a bit more eager to do something.

“So you mean we can set a trap here?”

“i guess but i have no idea how to make one though”

I admitted to him and tried to think of other ways to catch something, Maybe I should try to just ambush it?

“I know how to make one! i can tell you how, but uhh you need the rope for that”

I looked back at him and considered what he told me,

On one hand he could use this to try to escape again.

On the other hand, the trap I’d be making had a chance to actually work and I could still just hold him to prevent him from running away.

“Alright fine if you know how to do it tell me”

I started unraveling the rope around him as I spoke and made sure to hold onto him as the last of it fell down.

“oh.. well you need two tree trunks and some sticks also a rock”

he started to explain while he clung to one of my fingers that were holding him and just generally tried to move his arms that had been bound since yesterday.

Picking up everything he asked me one handed and putting it in a heap next to the trail, I still had no idea what type of trap this would make.

“soo now explain to me what to do and i will build it as you tell me but no funny business got it?”

He nodded and started instructing me on how to build the Trap. 

As I went along with his instruction I realized that the Trap consisted of the principle of just smashing whatever walked through between the two trunks I had to get.

Well that would definitely be effective albeit a bit Grim.

“I think it looks good! you’re not a bad builder!”

Robin’s praise at my building skills caught me a bit off guard but I regained my composure just as fast.

“Now we wait somewhere and for the love of all the rivers of Hell be quiet this time!”

He nodded and put his hands over his mouth to show that he would be as silent as possible.

looking around and deciding to just walk around a fair bit away from the trap to wait if it catched anything, as well as try to find some edible plants in the meantime.

Walking through between the stocky old trees while Robin just hung limply in my grasp, apparently rather bored I eventually found a patch of dandelions not too far from the trap.

“Hey look, those are edible, do you want some?”

Robin looked at when i was pointing and the asked confusedly

“they’re edible? i thought they were just some weeds”

“no they’re perfectly edible i think some of the poorer people in Tunstead used them to make salads and i’ve had my fair share of them too”

I told him and proceeded to sit down next to the Flowers, ripping a few of their stems.

Gods the Blossom looked absolutely miniscule in my Hand, a single one didn’t even cover my fingertip anymore when they used to fit perfectly in the middle of my palm.

Sitting Cross Legged on the grass I set Robin in front of me.

“don’t run i WILL catch you”

“i don’t think i could outrun you, your legs are longer than i’m tall”

He also sat on the ground and started ripping flowers out of the dirt and started fiddling with them.

“Donovan? What did you do that the Lady at the market flipped out like that? the way she screamed made it sound like you stabbed someone to death or something”

Ah yeah that question had to come up sometime as neither of the Guards could have actually seen what had happened

“i stole a piece of Bread and the Lady saw my pointy ears so i guess that's enough to make someone scream bloody murder”

I decided to answer honestly as there really was no point in lying and I’ve never been one to outright deceive people.

“thats…Thats it? with how the Lady was screaming it sounded like you murdered her Husband or something”

he was still fiddling with the Dandelions in his hands but seemed a lot more at ease upon finding out that i had not killed anyone

I continued picking up the flowers and stuffing them into my mouth even if it was such a small amount compared to my new size.

Glancing down now and again to make sure Robin stayed put, I saw him having that 100 yard stare again while he just messed with the flowers in his hands.

I was not sure if i should say something or nudge him but he did say that this happened rather frequently so i left it be.

At least until a Booming sound echoed through the forest making me flinch and he let out a rather adorable high pitched squeak.

I decided not to comment on it and instead tried to think of something that could make such a sound while scooping him into my Hands once again while standing up.

“uhh i think that was the trap? should we look?”

Robin pointed out nervously and shakily held the flowers he was fiddling with a few seconds ago which I now saw had been made into a Flower Crown, which fell to the ground as I stood up.

“sure, i hope it got something in it though”

I did really hope the trap got something as I’ve been running on basically nothing for three days now, even if strangely enough I still did not feel any hunger whatsoever, pushing it off as stress from being a Giant I went back to where the trap was with Robin in my hand.

This was getting inconvenient but my shirt had no pockets so I would just have to deal with it.

Getting to the Trap it did indeed work as there was something that Resembled a Boar even if it had its skull smashed in by the Tree Trunks that were used to build this thing.

The only recognizable feature in its face were the Tusks.

The overall size of this thing was also impressive as it was longer than Robin was tall, about seven feet in length.

“Jackpot, that thing got a lot of meat on it don’t you think?”

I grinned down at Robin who was staring at the Animal with an unreadable expression.

“i didn’t think this would have enough strength to just pulverize a skull”

He admitted and looked in sort of horrified realization at it while I tried to pry our catch free one handed.

I succeeded in pulling the Boar out between the Logs but the motion caused blood to spill from its smashed skull running over my fingers and making the Scarlet liquid stick to my hand.

Gross, I hoped I could find a way to clean that.

Walking away with both hands occupied, I went back to the little clearing the Dandelions were in and nabbed a few branches with the hand that held the boar so we could make a fire.

However, upon setting things up I realized that I was way too big to properly prepare the meat.

Robin was staying unusually quiet and just kept staring at the Boar before he asked

“Can you carve it at your size? Do you even have a knife?”

“No to both of those but if i give you a knife and you promise not to use it to attack me would you prepare it? i would probably just mess it up with my too big Hands”

I knew giving him anything sharp at all would be a risk but at this point it had been three and a half days since i had anything to eat and i knew that a body couldn’t just function on nothing.

Reaching into my pocket and Giving him his Dagger back for the time being I set him in front of the Boar so he could get to work while i tried to make a fire, 

but I never took my eye off of him for long to ensure he would not suddenly run up and stab me.

It took quite a few tries but eventually i managed to get a fire going just as Robin told me he was done

“What am I supposed to do with the guts? i don’t want to leave them next to the Campsite, who knows what monster might get Lured by the smell”

He did have a point in that so I started to dig a hole to bury the bloody entrails.

As Robin stood up I noticed that his front was soaked in Boarblood so I took my Handkerchief out once again.

“you’re also kinda bloody wash up with this while i cook”

I tossed the cloth at him and he started trying to get all of the blood off himself with the oversized fabric while we waited for the meat to cook.

When the meat was finally done and I took it off the fire the Sky had started to take on a magenta hue which only intensified as I extinguished the flames with some of the dirt I had dug up earlier.

Not really knowing how to share this thing I simply ripped off a leg and gave it to Robin who took it rather awkwardly from me and tried to just bite chunks out of it while I tried to think of a way to eat my portion as I could not possibly pull the meat off the bones.

In the end I just shoved it into my mouth, biting the Boar in half, crunching on it firmly, easily destroying bones that would have been too large to even be put in my mouth before. 

Robin just looked at me with a rather horrified expression as I stuffed the second half of the Boar in my mouth.

He only managed to eat about half of the leg, maybe a bit less and just held the leftovers out to me.

“im done, you can have this also”

I carefully took the half eaten leg from him with two fingers and devoured it in a single bite.

“so uh i think we should camp here for the night cause i don’t want to walk through these woods when it’s dark”

I went to take the rope out again so we could repeat yesterday’s spiel.

“Can we not tie me up this time? i hate trying to sleep while bound its uncomfy and i get that pins and needles sensation in my arms”

He tried to persuade me so I wouldn’t tie him up overnight again but I knew he would bolt the second I closed my eyes even if he had been strangely placid this whole time.

“sorry but no i want to be able to sleep without you running away and getting an entire army to murder me”

I told him as I tied him up, once again using the spare shirt to cover his arms.

He was trying to look Grumpy but it just ended with him making a pouting face again.

“I hope this Night is gonna be warmer, the last one made me freeze my ass off and now the Blanket is all bloody”

“Well you can use me as a giant space heater i guess”

Lying down on my back, I simply put him on my chest and laid a hand over him like a tent so he wouldn’t roll off.

“here this should work, also if we find a river i’ll wash the ‘Blanket’”

“Thank you? though i do hope this night is warmer”

He curled up under my Hand and for a second I got the Mental image of a little mouse but shoved it away.

“i can hear your heart from here”

The quiet admission had me perk my pointy ears as I glanced down at him.

“yeah i guess, i have two of them”

“you what? but I only hear one?”

He looked at me incredulously as I told him about it.

“well yeah only one works, some of my organs are doubled i also have four kidneys, well three now since some fucker drugged me to sell it to an Alchemist, I’m glad i managed to break that guys nose before he gutted me completely”

I chuckled grimly at the memory of lying on a cold table and someone cutting into my side before just punching the guy.

“So you just… have more organs than you need???”

He seemed extremely confused over this.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it but I still would like to keep my insides… well inside”

I did not know why I was telling him this stuff. 

After all, when the week was over I’d let him run back to Tunstead and would never see him again.

Though it had been a long time since i could talk to something that was capable of responding so i guess i was just bored with the silence.

I closed my eyes and laid there for a bit knowing that Robin would not be able to get down with me literally as his mattress.

Shortly before i conked out i could feel him lying his head over my heart, glancing down i saw him having that distant stare again, and after about a minute he closed his eyes as his breathing fell into a calmer rhythm indicating that he had fallen asleep.

That was fast, I thought before falling asleep myself.

The next morning I was awoken by sunlight hitting my face and I tried to get up before remembering that Robin was still on my chest.

Looking down i saw that he was still sleeping so i nudged him with finger to get him to wake up

“mmm nrmm ten more minutes”

he just rolled over and gripped my shirt as if trying to use it as a blanket.

“Wake up, sun is out and i want to get going”

I nudged him again and this time he groggily lifted his head blinking owlishly at me

“Wwha? oh… OH! uh good morning?”

He tried to awkwardly Greet me as he tried to get up but fell over as he was still bound with the rope.

I nabbed him off my chest before he could tumble down from it.

“good morning to you as well i thought Guards were supposed to get up at dawn?”

“Uh usually Arthur wakes me up im not a morning person”

He yawned and tried to stretch as much as he could before the rope stopped him.

“Well let’s get going then i want to see if we can find water today, the Waterskin you have is almost empty and i want to wash the Blanket you used”

I really hoped we would find a river or at least a pond today so I could also wash my Handkerchief / Robins Blanket as it had started to just flake off bits of dried blood.

Standing up and making sure Robin didn’t fall off I stretched my muscles and tried to figure out in which direction to go to find some water, in the end I decided to just continue the path I took yesterday.

Picking up everything including the ragged Boarskin as it could be useful later I started to Marching troughs between the trees.

At some point i heard a distant noise like something falling down, At first I thought that it was just a random animal until it happened again and after a few seconds again.

“Do you hear that? any idea what that could be?” 

I asked Robin who shook his head and stared into the direction the noise was coming from.

“What if it’s one of the monsters that live here? i don’t wanna go there”

He all but whispered to me.

“I’m going to check it out but you can wait here if you want”

I was Really curious but I also wanted to make sure that IF there was something this close to us we wouldn’t be ambushed out of nowhere by a being we had never seen before and wouldn’t know how to defend against.

“you’re insane! What if you die? what if it nabs ME and runs away to kill me???” 

Robin tried to get me to not check out a potentially deadly creature but I really didn’t want to end up surprised in the middle of the night by whatever that was.

“its fine, and i said you could stay here while i look what that is im just gonna put you in a tree again”

I picked a random tree and tied Robin between two branches before stepping back and turning to face the noise.

“I’ll be right back don’t worry it’s probably just another Boar or another big animal”

I tried to reassure him before leaving in the direction the Sound was coming from quietly prowling through the Forest.

Hitting my toe on a protruding boulder I cursed under my breath as I got closer to the source of the Thumping noise only to see something that at first glance looked like a fox with deer antlers on its head. 

On a second look it was the size of a horse, had hooves, a cow tail and something that looked to be mushrooms growing out of its back.

I’d never seen something like this before and it was currently headbutting an old tree that was wider than I was tall resulting in the thumping noise I had heard.

As it assaulted the tree branches fell off to the ground, and I could see that they were almost spilling over with maggots.

Eww.

The Maggots didn’t stay there for long as a flock of magpies immediately descended upon it picking it clean in just a minute if not less.

I had no idea what I was watching but decided it best to just leave, backing up I stepped on a branch, the snapping noise alerting the fox/deer creature who whipped its head around in my direction.

I didn’t dare breathe as it looked at me with a head that at first resembled that of a Wolf but with four eyes and a pair of tusks, it blinked and then ran away in the opposite direction, the Magpies following swiftly.

I had no idea what I just witnessed but I did not have time to think about it either as a wordless, blood curdling scream echoed through the woods coming from the place I had left Robin in.

Immediately assuming that there were more monsters that might not be as shy as the one i just saw i sprinted in an adrenaline fueled dash back to where i left him not caring that my face got cut by branches and only shielding my eyes when necessary.

Arriving within seconds where the screaming was coming from, I could at first not make out any sort of danger just Robin still dangling from the tree but screaming like he was murdered.

Coming to a halt next to him and trying to figure out what was happening I saw that a big Spider was climbing down a thread in front of his face and him trying as best as he could to stay as far away as possible.

Not recognizing the species but assuming that it must be extremely venomous for Robin to scream like this, I snatched him away from the spider, not daring to touch the Arachnid in case it had enough venom to kill me.

Stepping a fair distance away and putting him on the ground while trying to see if Robin had been bit by it, but he tried to curl up and had started to hyperventilate

“hey! HEY did it bite you?!”

Nudging him I tried to at least get him to tell me if he was bit but he continued to Hyperventilate with tears in his eyes.

“Okay calm down the thing is gone you can calm down now!”

He didn’t seem to hear me or anything at all really and I worried that he would lose consciousness if he kept breathing like this.

“Okay, try to copy me? it’ll help i promise”

I just hoped it would work as he started to wheeze between his Breaths i tried to show him a breathing pattern that would help calm him down.

Breath in four seconds.

Hold for seven.

Then out for eight.

I repeated this until he started to mimic it and eventually his breathing normalized.

He was still wheezing a bit but he was getting enough air now and slowly going back to normal.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[lovelylogans]

the parent trap

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: small world and getting smaller

Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.

⁂

Virgil stands by the door, arms crossed and hopefully backing up Janus’s sense of Stern Parenting.

Virgil isn’t sure how well he’s doing from how he’s collapsed on the couch, his hand over his eyes.

“One of you,” Janus says, pointing vaguely in the direction of the twins, where they’re seated side-by-side on the opposite couch. “I’m not sure which one at the moment—but one of you told me your father knew I was arriving here today.”

The twins exchange a look. Virgil narrows his eyes.

“And I’m here to tell you,” Janus continues, “that the man I just saw in the elevator had absolutely no idea he and I were in the same country. Let alone the same hotel.”

The twin in the white jacket—Roman, unless they’ve somehow managed to swap clothes between Virgil seeing him last—slumps lower on the couch, looking cowed.

“You saw Papa already?”

“Yes I did,” Janus says hotly. “The man went completely white-faced, like I was the bloody ghost of husbands past! Can one of you get something cold for my head?”

Roman rushes from the couch to the small bucket that Virgil’s already filled with ice, grabbing a small washcloth at random and dipping it inside, then wringing it out.

“I mean,” Janus continues, at last removing his hands from his eyes and rolling to face the boys, “don’t you think I’ve thought about what it would be like to see your father after all these years?”

The twins exchange another look. Virgil feels something finally, at last, click to place in his brain, and his eyes go wide.

Oh, God. They’re really going through with it.

“Well, let me tell you,” Janus barrels past any response either boy could have, standing to pace, “me waving like a mindless idiot while Patton Parker’s got his arms wrapped around another man is not exactly the scenario I had in mind! Thank you, darling, you are not off the hook,” he adds, accepting the washcloth that Roman gives him.

And then the door to the bedroom opens.

And then one of the most visually pleasing men Virgil has ever seen steps into the room.

“What’s going on here?” The man says mildly, then, “Roman!”

“Uncle Logan!” The one in the white jacket who is absolutely Roman cries out, leaping to his feet. “I’ve missed you—put her there!”

“Erm?”

“Handshake, Uncle Logan,” Remus elaborates, looking amused, “It’s American, he means do the handshake” and Logan smiles down at his nephew.

“But of course,” he says, and grasps Roman’s hand in his, shaking it up and down once, twice—

And they progress through a handshake, almost quicker than the eye can take in all the details—clapping and slapping of hands, bumping of hips, shaking of fingers, grinning at each other, Logan’s eyes shining with some restrained semblance of fondness down at the boy that Virgil’s grown to care for so deeply.

Oh no. Oh no, his bond with the children—it’s making him hotter.

“Oh!” Logan says. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize we had guests—erm, Logan James. I’m Janus’s cousin. How do you do?”

“Virgil Schemmenti—I’m Patton’s best friend slash professional hanger-on,” he says, then, dryly, “I hope it’s okay if I don’t know the choreography yet.”

Logan simply smiles, and Virgil clasps his hand in his. 

His hands are soft, well-moisturized, and warm, sliding smooth where they meet the calluses and little burn marks Virgil has earned via cooking and helping out around the vineyard. The entirety of sensation of his body seems to narrow down to where they’re clasped together, to a sort of soft, contented quietness in the back of his brain—the pleasantness of his hand, gently but firmly cradling Virgil’s, the bare and simple pleasure of touch…

“Boys,” Janus says, and both Logan and Virgil drop each other’s hands quickly, turning their attention back to the situation at hand.

Oh, Patton is going to be so smug, or at least as smug as he knows how to be. How pretty Janus is this, how the James genes must be impeccable that, Virgil had sighed and scoffed and nodded along all these years, and now here Virgil is crushing on the cousin.

“You are going to tell me why you lied and brought me here without telling your father.”

“Were they?” Logan says, adjusting his glasses. “Erm, excellent. Virgil and I really ought to give you some privacy—perhaps I should see you to your room—”

“Oh, perfect,” Virgil says quickly, “We can go on over there, check out the mini-bar situation—”

“Wait,” Janus says, and his voice thunders through the room so powerfully that both Virgil and Logan freeze in their tracks.

“Does everyone here know something I don’t know?”

“Dad,” Roman says, and his voice is very gentle. “Papa’s getting married.”

All of the fight goes out of Janus’s face, his expression gone from stern to shell-shocked in an instant. He collapses back onto the couch with an audible gasp, his hand going over his mouth.

He looks paler now than he has the whole time he’s been near-woozy with liquor.

“To Cruella de Vil, he’s awful, Dad,” Roman wheedles. “We can’t let him go through with it, we simply can’t!”

“He’s awful, really, all wrong for him,” Remus says, picking up the thread. “And the only way he won’t marry him is…”

Remus hesitates, looking back and forth, before he nudges Roman in the ribs. “You tell him. You know him better.”

Roman crosses from one couch to the other, taking Janus’s hand in his.

“...Is if he sees you again,” he finishes warmly, with a dreamy sort of sigh that tells Virgil that, of the pair, Roman is absolutely going to grow up into exact same sort of hopeless romantic that Patton is.

Virgil tugs lightly on Logan’s shirt sleeve, and, once his attention is caught, jerks his head toward the door. Logan nods in agreement, and the pair of them start inching away.

“Wait a minute,” Janus says incredulously, looking back and forth between the boys. “You’re not seriously trying to set me up with your father?!”

“Actually, we are,” Remus says. 

“You’re perfect for each other!” Roman insists, clutching at Janus’s arm. 

“Hold it!” Janus says, and both Virgil and Logan freeze in their tracks.

“Okay,” Janus says tightly, then, firmer, “Okay. Let me say this loud and clear, since clearly none of you understand it. Patton Parker and I have absolutely nothing in common… anymore.”

“Um,” Remus says, raising a hand, and then promptly lowers it when Janus shoots him a fearsome look.

“Plus,” Janus barrels on. “In case you haven’t noticed, he seems extremely content with his—his long-legged, tight-trousered, clinging fiancé. And the pair of you will explain to your father that I am here for one purpose, and one purpose only. And that is to switch the two of you back and rearrange our custody schedule.”

“That’s two things,” Remus says helpfully.

“Remus Parker!”

“What? It is,” Remus complains, then, twisting, “back me up, Uncle Logan, that’s two things.”

“Listen to your father,” Logan says, avoiding the question entirely.

Virgil presses his lips together to keep from smiling, and instead he nods somberly at the boys in an attempt to impart some level of Adult Seriousness upon them.

He has the feeling it won’t work for long.

⁂

Patton’s heartbeat has been roaring in his ears the entire elevator ride.

“Uh, hey, Maddox,” Patton says, catching his fiancé’s—yes, his fiancé, pull yourself together, Parker!—hand in his. “I’m gonna run downstairs for a couple minutes—see if I can catch the kid, give him a spare room key, walk around a bit, clear my head.”

“Clear your head?” Maddox says, at last turning from where he’s been inspecting his face in the mirror. “What do you have to clear your head about? Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no! No, no,” Patton says. “Everything’s perfect—” a kiss pressed quickly to Maddox’s cheek— “I just gotta go. Um, shake off some nerves.”

“Nerves?”

“They’re your parents, Mads, I want to make a good impression,” he insists. He should make a good impression, he does want to make a good impression, he’s not lying, it’s just—

“We’re still going ring shopping after lunch, right?”

“Ring shopping?” Patton says, hand on the door, then, “Right, of course! For the wedding. Um, yeah, ‘course. I’ll see you there—here—I mean—downstairs.”

He quickly opens the door and slips out before he can stick his foot in his mouth anymore than he already has, darting down the hall.

“Hey, Pa,” his son says, trundling down the hall. “What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing! Nothing, Roman,” he says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Hey, did you…?”

Roman blinks his big brown eyes up at him.

“Nothing—never mind,” Patton says hastily. His kids would never pull one over on him like that, right? Not with something so serious. “Do me a favor—keep Maddox company, will you?”

Roman nods.

“Thanks so much,” he says, then, hesitating, wheels back around.

“Do I look okay?” Patton says, tugging at his suit jacket. “Like—presentable? You see me and can’t tell I’m a man who collects ugly sweaters, right? I look like a—a serious, well-adjusted person who’s a proper adult?”

“You look fab, Pa,” Roman says. “Absolutely fab!”

Patton reaches over to squeeze his son’s shoulder, then he resumes his run back to the elevator.

Is he here? Is he really, really here?!

⁂

Remus hums to himself vaguely as he wanders the lobby, trying to think of the best way to really push stepfather-to-never-be’s buttons, when the elevator door opens and a familiar face comes barrelling out, adjusting his tie nervously.

“Pa!” He blurts out, before realizing he maybe shouldn’t have brought attention to himself.

“Rome!” Patton says, then, “hey, how’d you get down here so quick? I thought you were going to keep Maddox company?”

“I was?” Remus says, then, “I mean—yeah, I was! I think he stepped out of the room, I was just looking for him…”

Then, unable to help himself, he leans in for a quick hug around his stomach.

“It’s gonna be great, Pa.”

“Aw,” Pa says, hugging him back. “Thanks, kiddo, I really appreciate the pep talk—oh! I completely forgot when I ran into you upstairs. Here’s your room key. Why don’t you go on up and make sure nothing’s malfunctioning? And grab your jacket again, too, it might get chilly later.”

Remus accepts the shiny gold key, turning it over in his hands. “Sure,” he says, and pockets it. So he has run into Roman, then; it’s probably a good thing Roman’s kept his jacket zipped up.

“Great—thanks,” Pa says, and he’s off again, charging through the lobby, head turning back and forth, obviously looking for someone.

Remus grins to himself. Mission accomplished. He approaches the elevator and mashes the button as many times as possible within ten seconds as he can, humming some old song his Pa has on some of his cassettes.

Let’s get together, yeah yeah yeah, why don’t you and I combi-ine…

The elevator door opens, and Remus waits to step on as a man clad in black steps out, ignoring the presence of the world around him, inspecting his makeup in a compact.

“Have you seen your father?” The man asks, snapping shut the compact.

Remus blinks at him. “You talking to me?”

“Who are you, Robert DeNiro?” The man says snidely, and oh. Remus sees. “Yes I am talking to you.”

“Maddox,” Remus sneers, then, “yeah, I just saw him.”

“Well, hel-lo?! Where is he?”

“Oh,” Remus says. “He went thataway. I think.”

Remus narrows his eyes at him as Maddox cranes his neck to look down the hall; he’s wearing an icily blue suit jacket over whatever little outfit he’s put on to try and snare Remus’s father. Sure, he looks pretty—his hair is coiffed within an inch of its life, his skin is suspiciously smooth and lush in a way that screams of some kind of product—but Remus knows. Oh, Remus knows the sort of devilishness in a person.

Because he aspires to have it too. Except not like that—Maddox’s brand of evil is just too lame.

“What are you staring at?” Maddox snaps.

“Nothing,” Remus says, letting his lip curl up in disdain. “You’re just very pretty. That’s all.”

Maddox rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to break your rotten streak and suddenly be nice to me.”

Oh, boy, Maddox thinks Roman’s been on a rotten streak?

“If you see your father,” Maddox says, striding off, “tell him he’s late, and I’m waiting.”

He makes it sound like the biggest sin in all the world, to keep Maddox Blake waiting.

“Whatever you say,” Remus mutters under his breath. “Petruchio.”

⁂

Janus understands that Remus said that nothing that he could be given would speed this whole aftermath of vodka thing along, but also he’s eleven and a dratted little troublemaker and Janus is a bit ticked at him at the moment, so he’s decided not to believe him and seek out his own cure.

Which led him very handily to the hotel bar. So many people said hair of the dog, some semblance of it had to be true, didn’t it?

“Here you are, sir,” the bartender says, sliding across some… concoction in a tall glass. “This’ll cure anything you got. Just don’t ask what’s in it.”

Janus makes the fatal mistake of sniffing it and then promptly gagging.

“Probably shoulda warned you about that, too,” the unflappable bartender says cheerfully, then goes about collecting abandoned glasses, clearing places for other unfortunates who would find themselves at a hotel bar before noon.

Janus takes a deep breath, plugs his nose, and goes about drinking as much of the foul stuff as quickly as he can.

It’s a deeply unpleasant affair. Janus thinks he’ll be put off any variant of smoothie for about a month after this.

But finish it he does, quickly sliding the glass as far away from him as possible, and goes about getting a water glass and trying his best to wash the taste of it from his mouth, drinking the entire glass of water just through that conquest alone.

“Ugh,” Janus says very quietly, patting his face with a cocktail napkin, then stands to get himself even more water, pausing briefly as a man in a sleek blue jacket sits a couple barstools away.

“Pardon me,” Janus says briskly, and goes to refill his water glass. Free water. Say what he will about the Americans, the invention of free water in restaurants is an excellent one.

“Martini,” the man in the blue jacket tells the bartender, briefly checking his watch. “Dry, please.”

Janus slides back onto his barstool, with his water and the lackluster presence of bar peanuts standing guard beside him. He eats one to help with the taste and wrinkles his nose. He didn’t even know peanuts could go stale.

He eats another.

“Your martini,” the bartender says, returning. “And your bill, Mr. James.”

“Thank you,” Janus sighs, though he thinks paying for that ought to be considered highway robbery and also perhaps a violation of the Geneva convention. He signs it and pushes it back to the bartender.

The man sipping his martini tilts his head, spots his signature, and his eyes widen, before he turns to face Janus more fully.

“You’re Janus James?!”

“Guilty,” Janus says, and he tries his best not to wince as the man lets out a squeaky sound of delight, promptly abandoning his barstool to sit directly next to him.

“I just saw a suit you designed in Vogue and fell completely in love with it,” the man gushes. “I faxed your office just yesterday, but they said you were out of town and didn’t know if you could make another—I can’t believe it! It’s fate!”

Janus decides to do the polite thing and not point out that he is out of town, and presumably on vacation, and therefore not working, and instead he simply nods.

“I’m Maddox Blake,” the man says, flashing a set of truly startlingly white and straight teeth at him, extending a hand. “How do you do?”

Janus accepts the hand with some bafflement. Americans.

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Rewrite]

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who’s had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter Ten.

The ship is sinking.

The water climbing its way up now, people will be making their way to the top deck, people will be running by this room.

But Scully has yet to hear a thing. No one’s came down this corridor. What’s even along this corridor aside from this office and maybe a few storage closets?

She glances outside the porthole to water. Scully could see out of this earlier, just along the water’s surface.

This is bad.

In one last hopeless plea that someone is near enough to hear her, she bangs the chain against the pipe, screaming as loud as she can.

“Can someone help me!”

Still, there’s not a soul around.

And where is Mulder?

She pictures him safe on a lifeboat with his family, sailing away from any danger that could befall him. Scully shakes the bitter image away. She has to focus on herself before this gets very bad.

She tries everything in that moment; scrunching her hand up to see if they’ll fit through the holes, hanging her weight off the chain to see if it’ll break, but the chain is solid metal, the bracelets made well enough that nobody but a magician could get out of them. And Scully is no magician.

She slumps against the pipe, wrists aching, hands hurting.

“This is bad,” she says, her eyes closing in defeat.

Her heart freezes when she hears the faint sound of water sloshing. Eyes opening quicker than they closed, she watches the water begin to creep in from beneath the door.

“Fuck!” she cries, immediately moving her arms to the top of the pipe and beginning to climb as more water slips in.

Despite the little pressure the water comes rushing in. In minutes everything this room, Scully included, will be swimming.

In a desperate attempt, Scully tries breaking the cuffs again, beating them against the pipe.

The water slowly begins to rise, dislodging the furniture from its place in the room. She has five minutes at most to come up with a plan.

“Come on…come on…” she repeats as a mantra, the banging of metal, her cries, and the sound of water the only noise to be heard throughout the corridor.

Until.

“Scully! Scully!”

At first she’s unsure if she’s heard it right, until it comes again.

There’s only one person in the entirety of Titanic to call her by her last name.

“Mulder!”

The water now approaching her knees, Scully climbs onto the table.

“…Scully!”

“Mulder!” she shouts back in response. “Mulder, I’m in here!”

Her eyes stay fixed on the door that’s just partially open, praying the incoming water keeps it that way.

“Scully…” she hears Mulder call again but it sounds further away.

“Mulder, I need you to follow my voice!” she calls back, trying to guide him to her. “Just follow my voice and keep shouting!”

“Scully!”

It was sounding nearer again.

“Keep moving forward, Mulder. There’s an open door, I’m in here!”

She sits on the desk now, floating above the water that still continues to rise. As she looks around for something Mulder can use to break the handcuffs, it’s the first time she notices the slight tilt in the room. If her theory is correct, the front of the ship will go down first. They need to get to the back.

“Scully!”

Mulder stands in the doorway, as real as this sinking is, and Scully finally allows the hope for survival to return. Relief floods through her as her body finally relaxes.

“Mulder…”

He pushes various bits of furniture out of the way, coming to a stop in front of her.

Instantly she feels his lips descend onto hers. Scully melts into the kiss, comforted by the fact that she now isn’t alone in this watery hell.

She lets them kiss for a bit longer before allowing reality to set back in.

They pull away, foreheads falling against each other. Scully allows herself this moment to just draw strength from Mulder, to finally understand that she’s no longer alone, that for now it’s the two of them.

She briefly lets go of the fear.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I should of,” Mulder whispers and Scully smiles slightly, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about that now.” She lifts her head up, shaking her still handcuffed hands. “You need to find a key or something.”

The water is a lot deeper now, almost up to Mulder’s chest. Scully doesn’t even want to think of where it’ll come up for her.

“A key, right.” Mulder moves away from her, headed towards the key cabinet and throwing open the doors. “What colour was it?”

“Brass, I think.”

“Brass…brass…There’s no brass key!”

The panic begins to set in again. Her eyes dart about the room, looking for anything that can be used to break the cuffs. She spins around, losing the buoyancy of the table in her rush to find something, yelping as the cold water brushes against her leg as she fights not to fall in.

Mulder is there, throwing his hand out towards her and steading the table, Scully regains her balance.

Slower this time, Scully continues to look around the room. As she scans past the door, something red catches her eye.

An axe.

“There!” she shouts, pointing towards the door. “The axe.” Mulder follows her point, seeing what she sees then quickly turns back to her.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

The room continues to fill, getting deeper and deeper as time is wasted.

“Yes!” Scully all but cries. “Go!”

Her eyes do not move from Mulder as he paddles his way out of the room, breaking the glass with his elbow and yanking the axe from its case. He re-enters, axe in hand and Scully prepares herself, spreads her arms as much as she can with what little leeway the chain gives her.

“Go on,” she encourages, biting down the panic and nerves. If this goes wrong, this is going to hurt.

Mulder looks straight into her eyes, asking, “You trust me?”

For some insane reason she does, she really does. “Yes, I trust you.”

He nods, poises the axe in the air and swings. At the last second Scully shuts her eyes, preparing herself for the pain and the blood.

The axe collides with the chain, breaking the metal in half and lodging itself within the pipe.

Scully can’t believe it, he did it. She opens her eyes, catches Mulder’s equally surprised expression. Now free, she pulls him into her, hugging and thanking him over and over again. His arms fold around her, holding her tight against him.

“We need to go,” he says pulling away.

He’s right, they don’t have long and they have four decks to climb up before they can get on a lifeboat.

Mulder helps her down into the water and Scully has never felt cold like it- it burns her nerves, stabbing every place imaginable.

“Shit!” she cries, how the hell has Mulder been standing in this for so long?

“I know, come on.” He grabs onto her hand and Scully notices she can’t touch the floor without going under. She tries to remain calm, to not let that panic overwhelm her. Just keep hold of Mulder and once they are off E-Deck they should be safe.

Grasping hold of Mulder’s hand, Scully half swims-half paddles her way out of the office.

“Shit, the exits blocked,” she hears Mulder say above the torrent of water bursting through the door at the end of the corridor. She sees it too, a wave of pressurised water that would kill them alone.

The lights flicker above, the electricity struggling to stay one against the onslaught of ice-cold water, combined with the creaking as Titanic struggles to withstand the added weight, it makes for an incredibly eerie setting.

“Come on, there’s got to be another way out,” Scully shouts above the waves. She takes the lead, heading in the opposite direction and into the darkness ahead.

It’s a labyrinth. A maze of cabins and storage rooms. Whoever designed the Titanic never intended for it to be an easy escape.

Scully sighs in frustration at yet another dead end and to make matters worse they were still on E-Deck.

“This is stupid!” she cries, kicking the door and sighing once more in frustration.

“You hear that?” Mulder asks.

Scully stops huffing and puffing for a moment to listen.

“This way. Go down there and to your left, now…Stop running! You’re not allowed to run down the corridors! This way, Miss.”

A smile begins spreading across Scully’s face at the sound of another person’s voice. She moves towards the door, pressing her ear against it.

“There’s a corridor on the other side of this door,” she says and Mulder nods.

Still, there is one more issue.

“So how do we get through it?”

Mulder smiles, “I just broke metal, woods gonna be no issue for me.”

Scully watches as Mulder repeatedly slams his shoulder against the wooden door.

“That’s White Starline Property,” she says, a smirk across her face. There’s no humour in it really.

“Don’t you start.”

It takes a few more slams of the shoulder, Scully helping out towards the end but eventually the wood snaps and they both fall through to the other corridor.

Briskly, they start speed-walking away from the damage to  an exit. Down the corridor and to the left, as the man said.

“Oi!” A voice behind them shouts, different to the one earlier. “That’s White Starline Property, you’ll have to pay for that, you know.” It was funnier when Scully said it.

Ever in sync, Mulder and Scully spin at the same time, both huffing out an annoyed Shut up! to the boy-steward. They don’t wait to gauge the boy’s reaction before they’re turning the corridor to…

A mob of third class passengers.

“We just want a chance, for god’s sake, let us through!” an Irish man shouts at the top of his lungs. He and a few others occupy the very front of the rally, many of the other passengers egging them on as they shout at the stewards on the other side of the gate.

The gates are locked, Scully realises.

“Count on the Irish to start a riot,” Mulder jokes though his worry at their current situation sweeps through as he looks around for another way out.

“I think this time it’s justified,” says Scully, also looking for another way free. In the corner stands a mother and her two children. The boy tugs against his mother’s coat.

Scully doesn’t hear what the lad asks but hears the mother response.

“Soon. There just getting the first class people onto the boats, and then they’ll be starting with us.”

Scully’s heart breaks in two at the false hope. She wonders what one would say in this situation, what she would say if she had children. Lie like this woman has or tell the truth? That they’re not getting out any time soon.

Her attention is diverted when she hears a familiar voice shout through the crowd.

“Aye, you just want to save the first class bastards, forget about the poor stuck at the bottom, you slimy gits!”

Relief floods through her at the sound of Charlie’s voice. He’s alive.

For now.

She watches the red-headed boy push away from the gate and force his way through the crowd. Defeated and hopeless, Scully reaches out to him.

“Charlie!”

Immediately, the boy perks up at the sound of his voice. He spies her instantly, running the last couple of steps towards them.

“Dana.” He collapses into her embrace instantly, no longer needing to be a leader and can just be the younger brother sourcing comfort from his older sister in a time of panic.

“It’s no use,” Charlie says against her. “There not letting anyone through.”

Still hugging her brother, Scully looks anxiously towards Mulder. Reading her request just simply through her look, Mulder jostles his way through the people. Scully ends her embrace, brushing past Charlie to follow Mulder up the stairs.

“You have to wait your turn,” one of the stewards say. “They’re not ready for you to board yet.”

“You have to let us through,” Mulder says, speaking over them. “These people deserve a chance to live.”

“You have to wait your turn, they’re not ready for you yet.”

“Jesus Christ, man!” Scully speaks up, angered by the handling of this situation. “There’s women and children down here!”

But the steward refuses to deviate from his script. His constant condescending voice riles Scully. She grasps her fingers around the gate’s bars and furiously shakes them, making her anger known to the stewards and people around them. She doesn’t even bother to listen to their Now stop that, or we won’t let you through at all response before she’s launching herself down the stairs.

“I told you it was hopeless,” says Charlie.

Scully wasn’t prepared to die by being handcuffed to a pipe, and she isn’t prepared to die stuck behind a gate. Adrenaline and anger surging through her, she looks around for some implement to use to break all the steward’s faces when she finds something better.

“Charlie, help me with this bench,” she instructs, bending to grasp the bench.

“You canna be serious, Dana?” Charlie says, his eyes wide with shock at his sister’s irrationalism.

“Would you rather drown?”

Charlie does as he’s told, gaining a hold on the bench. A few others gather around them, including the first Irish man to shout before, realising what they are planning to do and all pitch in to help, grabbing the middle.

“Ready,” says Scully. “One…two…three…” Together, the four of them rip the bench from the floor. Using all her strength, Scully positions the bench to her chest, ready to ram it against the gate.

The stewards realise what they’re doing, her eyes widening with shock as the insistent stewards yells at them to stop and put that bench down. They ignore him, and all together bash the bench against the gate as the stewards make a run for it. People cheer them on, Mulder keeps the path clear as they ram the bench into the gate twice more before the flimsy metal snaps and a hole is created.

They begin jumping through. Mulder helps Scully over and they run through D-Deck. They run for their lives.

[paranormals-of-ilvermorny]

Chapter 4

It was 8:43 a.m. and four women, three redheads of varying degrees and a darker skinned girl with black hair, were running through Ichabod Lane. Each girl was pushing a cart with trunks and other traveling items, slowing their pace.

“C’mon girls, the train leaves at 9,” Lisa Copper, leading the brigade, breathlessly called back. Despite having woken up early, there was a great amount of packing left due to the fact that a certain red headed younger sister spent the entirety of August catching up on her reading. Thankfully, they got their luggage and minds together in time to get out of the house and arrived at the station only running slightly behind.

“Quinn, if we miss it, your books are going in the fireplace.” Yelled the out-of-breath voice of Robin who, despite being a very athletic young girl, was not prepared to run miles whilst pushing upwards of fifty pounds.

“NOOO!!!” Cried Quinn, taking the threat of losing her beloved dog-eared friends very seriously, and used the adrenaline to not only surpass her sister and Lorelei, but kept running past her mother.

Quinn Copper, at only 12 years of age, ran so hard and so fast that any onlookers would have been concerned that she was going to collide with the train that was fast approaching. By the grace of Merlin she stopped just before the yellow safety line before becoming a pancake on the side of the Ilvermorny Express. As the other three hurried to catch up, Quinn used the time to catch her breath and regain her composure.

“You’re not really gonna burn my books, are you Robbie?” She asked her older sister as she approached the platform. Robin, who had never seen her sister move half as fast as she just did, was both in awe of her speed and exhausted beyond comparison.

“No… but…,” she said, taking in lungfuls of air, “it worked…didn’t it?” Quinn’s freckled face became flushed with anger, her mouth open ready to go off on her older sister for deceiving the safety of her precious books, but a conductor with a rather pointy goatee interrupted her.

“ALL THOSE FOR MOUNT GREYLOCK, ALL ABOARD!” He shouted to the various parents and students at Platform 6 of the Ichabod Lane Train Terminal. Although Mt. Greylock Express was one of the oldest wizarding train stations in the U.S., there are many different stations that bring Ilvermorny students to school. For example, there was a platform in New York’sGrand Central Station, and another in Lancaster Station Pennsylvania. But, Ilvermorny is far from the only wizarding school in North America.

Once the conductor loaded the last of their luggage, Quinn, Robin, and Lorelei made their way onto the train hoping to find a private box. After looking through compartment after compartment they finally found one that didn’t have anyone in it. They piled in and took their seats, Robin and Quinn both taking the window seats and Lorelei spreading her legs next to Robin, all three catching their breaths from carrying their luggage.

“LAST CALL FOR MOUNT GREYLOCK!” The conductor yelled, followed shortly by the high pitched whistle of the train. Every child raced to find an open window, some barging in on an already full compartment, just to wave and yell one last ‘goodbye’ and ‘I love you’ to their parents. All four girls were amongst the many to yell out to Lisa Copper who stood waving her hand towards the girls, telling them to take care and write soon.

After a few minutes, the Mt. Greylock Express slowly started to exit the station, steam rolling past the many extended hands until the station became nothing more but a far off sight. Even longer and soon Ichabod Lane was completely out of sight, and with it, home.

Next stop, Ilvermorny.

Scenery of lush green fields that made way to dark tree leaves, some already changing their color for fall, the lack of sunlight providing a dark, cool environment on the train, perfect for a mid trip nap. Anyone looking about the cabin would see Lorelei and Robin blissfully asleep with their limbs stretched out, their jackets folded under their heads as makeshift pillows. Across was Quinn who was still up and reading, every now and then pushing her round glasses up her freckled nose. The scene was made all the more perfect by the mid morning sun peeking into the cabin’s window, made dim by the thin curtains, a vision of calm.

It took a particularly loud knock on the compartment door for Lorelei to wake up, not quite fully awake to hear and understand what the muffled voice on the other side said. Still groggy from her nap, she wiped the sleep from her eyes as she tried to remember where she was and the date. She also tried, and failed, to recall what the voice said.

“Do you know what they said?” Lorelei asked the younger girl across from where she sat. Although she seemed completely absorbed in their books, Lorelei was hoping for Quinn’s multitasking ability to have heard.

“Arriving soon, better change now,” the red headed reader said. Lorelei wiped the rest of the sleep from her system then pulled her smallest carry-on down from where it stayed above her, and picked a fresh robe, polo shirt, skirt, and socks. Then, after opening and closing the sliding door as gently as she could so as not to wake the still sleeping Robin, she walked down the train corridor to the nearest bathroom and got changed.

Upon returning, now in the familiar school uniform and robe she had so dearly missed, Lorelei was less gentle with shutting the door. Noticing the subtle thump of the door did not even stir her sleeping friend, Lorelei stood with a look of confusion on her face. Ever since knowing her, and the multitude of sleepovers they’ve had both at and away from school, Lorelei knew for a fact that Robin Copper could sleep through sneezes, coughs, a small fire, the croak of a goat-horned bullfrog, and one astronomy professor’s voice amplified by Sonorus. So, waking her up from a simple nap was more tedious than one might imagine.

Her first thought of waking sleeping beauty was rather arbitrary but whatever got the job done would be seen as a success. Rummaging through her carry-on Lorelei took out unnecessary items, like her wand, sleeping bonnet, toothbrush and paste, until she finally found what she was looking for. Carefully, though with little caution for Robin’s quality of sleep, Lorelei placed a thin headset onto her friend’s ears. After successfully accomplishing task one, she placed the proper CD in her Diskman then upped the volume as high as it would go.

The response was immediate; Robin’s eyes snapped open, her body jerking from the sudden atrusion to her system, almost jumping straight up from her seat. “Hey man, what the hell? I was in the middle of a great dream!” To Robin’s dismay, her traveling companions were laughing at what had transpired.

“Sorry”, Lorelei responded, still chuckling at her friend's reaction, “but you sleep like a rock, how else was I supposed to wake you?” Reaching down to pick up the long-forgotten Diskman with Love Thing blaring from the headset. As she began to rewrap the earphones’ cord, Lorelei told Robin that they were nearing the school and should go change. With an exaggerated sigh, she reached up to grab her carry-on and took out her uniform, leaving the compartment before she too was dressed in the navy blue and maroon uniform. After Robin changed, she went into ‘big sister mode’ and snatched the book Quinn was reading until she agreed to return it once she changed and soon all four girls were wearing their school colors, just in time too.

“MISTY VILLAGE STATION! ILVERMORNY SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY DEPART HERE!” Announced the same loud voice of the conductor.

Once making their way through the gaggle of other students, all wearing similar clothing and long black robes, Lorelei took a deep breath of the cool Western Massachusetts air. After taking in the air, she, along with most other students, took in the view before them.

The entirety of Mount Greylock was covered in a thick pine forest making the surrounding area smell of dirt, pine, and sweet sap. Due to the higher than average altitude, the mountain and its fauna gave off a foggy air, casting anyone who walks through a dim, gray filter over their eyes. Despite the fog, it didn’t take away from the rich emerald greens of the trees, nor the steel blue water of a running stream that is said to be runoff from the nearby Hoosic river. On one side of the train’s departure platform was a woodchip-filled path that ran a mile or two into the forest, leading to Misty Village. Although it is called a village, it more so resembles a small town almost forgotten to the modern age; with paved roads and streets cracked from the many winter’s atop the mountain. During weekends and holiday break many students, second year and up, can usually be found causing a ruckus or spending all of their summer allowance on the various goodies the shops had to offer, as long as they had a permission slip signed by a parent or guardian.

Misty Village is not, however, a primarily magic village like many assume; there have been the odd accident when a transfer student would cast a spell only for a local Muggle to faint at the sight of a floating snowball. It was school policy that no magic was allowed in the village, transfer student or not, and if word got back to a professor or the headmaster that someone had been using, the punishment would be dire. As for wands, while not strictly forbidden because the school wants students to feel comfortable and safe with them, they are encouraged to be kept away from any prying eyes or sticky hands. Due to the anti-mag shield, all village residents believe the Ilvermorny castle to be a dilapidated school building, and not the palace of learning it truly is.

On the other side of the departure platform — where Lorelei, her companions and the rest of the train’s passengers now stood— was another path that ran into the opposing tree line, though this one was covered in dirt well worn from the many young scholars who have walked down that same path.

It was a thought Lorelei had a lot, even now, as she and the others walked down the creaky wooden staircase that she wouldn’t set foot upon again until the end-of-school year train ride home. How many people, much like herself, walked the same path she did excited and prepared to start or continue their education in the magical arts. I wonder how many of them felt so at home as I do, finally finding somewhere they belong?

As soon as Lorelei and Robin’s feet hit the ground, a loud almost piercing noise could be heard by every incoming and returning student. The screech was so intense it caused everyone to cover their ears with their hands to try and muffle the noise, some poor students even doubling over in pain. Thankfully the sound only lasted but a few moments, but it was enough of a shock for everyone to turn towards the tree line from whence it came from. There, at the edge of the forest, stood what appeared to be a boy with some sort of horn held up to his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” came the grainy speaking voice of the boy from the edge of the tree line, “welcome to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

Slowly but surely everyone started to take their hands off of their ears, hoping that dreadful noise wouldn’t come back soon, and made their way over to the small clearing right before where the boy stood. Upon getting closer it was easy to make out what the boy looked like he had glasses, rather large ears, and dark hair, which complimented his warm brown skin, that tended to curl if long enough. His face sported a wide grin and eyes that shined with mischief, and he wore the same navy blue robes with red lining and a crest of what looked to be a cat-like creature. It had also appeared that the boy was not alone, for standing beside him was a girl, about his height and wearing the same robes, only her crest was different, sporting a Nordic triad with a snake's head and tail.

“Welcome, we promise this year will be full of learning and fun! My name is Amanda and I'll be here to help any of you younger years throughout our time together! And with luck no more of that horrible screeching from Kirby.” Said the girl standing besides him, giving her partner a sideways sneer. Many of the returning students knew these two to be Kirby Bunyip, school monitor for the Wampus, and Amanda Logg, school monitor for the Horned Serpents. Once students have reached year five at Ilvermorny they were eligible to apply for the position of monitor, which means you have special jobs and responsibilities that include taking care of younger students as well as making nightly rounds so as to report any student who is out of bed or help a lost first year find their way around the castle.

“Isn’t it cool!” Kirby exclaimed, holding up the engraved horn he wore on a leather strap around his neck, “my cousin brought it back for me from a trip to the Philippines. Said it was an ancient death whistle?” He asked, unsure of his own knowledge. “You wanna hear it again?” At the inquiry of the student body, to which everyone cried out ‘no’, Kirby lifted the horn to his lips. But before he could make another peep out of the horn, Amanda yanked it away from him, causing his neck to crane at an odd angle.

“There’ll be no more of that,” she announced, mostly directed at Kirby, before mumbling, “It’s worse than a mandrake, that thing.”

After the so-called ‘whistle’ had been removed from Kirby’s possession,much to his chagrin, Amanda called out for all first years to follow the two of them while the rest of the older students were to wait for the carriages and other monitors to arrive. Once the two of them and their horde of incoming first years went on their way to an off beaten path that led to two larger carriages, one for each monitor to steer, both being pulled by the horse-like Kelpies. Lorelei recalls from memory that the monitors will take the first years on a tour of the Ilvermorny grounds, showing them where various places of historic importance are and how they play a part in the school’s legend. One of them being Isolt’s cottage, the Quodpot Pitch, Old School Ruins, and the Owlry before ending where they started at the entrance hall. There, the students will go into said entrance hall to be sorted for their houses.

“Before we get started,” Amanda could be heard as the carriages began to ride away, “the Kelpies that are pulling these carriages were gifts from our friends across the pond for America’s alliance during World War II. Only two are needed for each carriage, for one water horse has the strength of ten regular horses…”

Not long after Amanda, and the less enthused Kirby, were out of earshot, a line of carriages came riding up to the awaiting students. In the front of the pack was an older boy steering his carriage, pulling the reins to a stop once close enough.

“Easy there, you did a good job.” He said, speaking gently to the skinny black horse, giving it a pat on the neck as he jumped down. Instead of getting the luxury of being pulled by water horses, the older years got to ride in smaller groups pulled by Murk Horses, with their greasy black hair that runs along their bones necks, in stark contrast to their alabaster eyes containing no pupils. They’re looks are deceiving, as they are very sweet and caring creatures once they warm up to their owner.

“Well, looks like you all made it through another summer. Good job!” The boy said, sending a wink towards the crowd. This caused many of them to cheer and applaud, his cheek dimples only adding to his charm. Lorelei was quickly pulled out of his trance by a sharp nudge in her arm, looking to her left and seeing her friend smiling wildly and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Looks like someone missed you too, ‘Lei.” She muttered for only her ears only. “He was talking to the whole group, stupid.” Lorelei responded, to which Robin shrugged her shoulders and let it go. But yes, Lorelei wishes many times that she would be the one to receive one of Orville’s signature winks.

Orville Doe, a sweet, kind, and generous boy was a year ahead of the girls but that didn’t stop Lorelei from dreaming he knew she existed. She had always been fond of the second year boy who patched up her knee, as any Pukwudgie does, and made her laugh when she felt like her world was ending. So what if those feelings developed over the past few years into a one sided crush, it wasn’t hurting anyone? Except for Lorelei whenever a beautiful girl would ask him if he wanted to go to Misty Village with her. But anyone with good eyesight would see how charming and nice the half-Japanese boy with fluffy black hair and flawless skin that had an amber undertone that made you feel like the sun was shining on him at all times was. It wasn’t her fault that Lorelei fell into a beautiful booby trap made by Merlin himself.

“Alright,” his honey voice brought her back to the present, “if you don’t already know the drill, each of you will divide into groups no bigger than six and get in a carriage. Once everyone is ready, I’ll lead the front half and Sara,” he gestured to the brawny haired girl standing next to him, “will take the rear so that none of you get off track. But these guys are really good, haven't had a problem in my years of being here.”

After Orville was done speaking the students started to divide into groups, Robin, Lorelei and Quinn already having made up their minds to ride together. For the older years it was easy, having known everyone their grade for years, but the second years were having some trouble trying to stay with those they knew and afraid to speak to someone they only saw during meal times. But eventually everyone was in a carriage and ready to embark on the few mile trek that led to the castle.

“Everyone ready? Ha!” Shouted Orville, urging his horse forward and compelling those behind him to follow. Soon enough, they were on their way to Ilvermorny Castle

[theshatteredrose]

Nugatory: The Secret War (Chapter 41 - Final) - Disgaea 5 Fanfiction

AN: Man, finally, the last chapter! It’s been a long road, but I finally made it. Just in time before my operation, too. I don’t know how I will feel in the next couple of months, but do let me know if you would like to see more of Samuel. I might be able to write a few oneshots or whatever. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

-

Chapter 41:

The remnants of a dream he could not remember faded as Samuel waded into wakefulness. His body felt heavy as he furrowed his brow and pressed his face into his pillow.

Pillow? When did he crawl into bed?

He laid still to allow his mind to clear and soon realised that he should not be lying in a bed, comfortable but tired. He…should be in Nugatory. He should be alone. Cold and lonely, floating through the Netherverse. As a spirit. As nothing more than a specter.

Why…?

Summoning up his energy, he opened his eyes and found himself staring at the familiar surroundings of the Nether-Hospital of the Pocket Netherworld. No, of Gorgeous Reborn.

He was back in home base.

Killia…the others…the Tree of Death…

That was not a dream?

A small face suddenly popped in his line of sight. Young, with wide green eyes. Two more youthful faces joined him. Three young boys. Children. Halfling. Kids.

His kids. From Nugatory.

Samuel’s eyes widen and he pitched up in bed, leaning up on his hands as he rested on his side. “Jeremy? Gavin? Tyler? Wh-what?”

“Sammie!”

The three kids launched themselves at them and Samuel readily opened his arms, falling back onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around the kids and hugged them tightly, pressing kisses to each of their foreheads.

He could hardly believe it. They were alive. Three of his kids were alive. He was…so glad. He thought he had lost them all.

Jeremy was a chatterbox, and would ramble incoherently at times, asking rapid-fire questions, leaving no time for answers. Gavin was a selective mute, only speaking to certain individuals, and Samuel was obviously one of those individuals. Tyler was non-verbal, so just pressed his face into his shoulder and cried.

They…must have been hiding in Nugatory the entire time.

“Samuel!”

Samuel lifted his head up, his expression instantly brightening. His bed was soon surrounded by familiar faces; Usalia, Zeroken, Christo, Red Magnus, even Seraphina.

And, of course, Killia.

Killia…

He came for him. Somehow found Nugatory. Raided it. Fought against Arch-Overlord on his own. Freed him from the Tree of Death.

Samuel remembered. He remembered watching from the tree. From the heart of the tree. Abimael wanted him to watch. Wanted him to see as Arch-Overlord killed him. So that his heart would shatter in a million different pieces. So that he would turn demonic. And destroy the three realms in their entirety.

But Samuel would not allow that. He would not allow Killia to die because of him. Especially because of him.

He loved him too much to let that happen.

Killia walked to his left side of the bed and placed his hand on his shoulder, gently looking down upon him. “How are you feeling?”

Samuel could not help but flush lightly. “I couldn’t be better.”

A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced over in curiosity. He did a doubletake when he realised a young woman with long blonde hair stood at the foot of his bed, hands folded neatly in front of her, waiting patiently.

Lieze…

Ah, right. He had almost forgotten. How shameful.

Lieze smiled brightly, warmly at him as she clapped her hands in front of her. “Samuel, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too,” Samuel returned, smiling also. “It’s good to see you well. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Lieze, unexpectedly, giggled. “And you.”

Jeremy, who was hanging over Samuel’s back, waved his arm to get his attention. “This nice lady has been looking after us,” he explained.

“Ah, I see,” Samuel said as he turned back to Lieze. “Thank you for looking after my kids for me.”

“Not at all,” Lieze immediately responded. “They are an absolute delight.”

They were. And they were free.

Finally.

… … … … …

Samuel had to admit that he was surprised by the reception he received when he was released from the hospital. The prinnies that worked on the main bridge, the ones he had helped a few times and had cooked sardine curry for, had swarmed him, tearfully exclaiming how happy they were that he was back.

They were not being sarcastic, either. They were being honest, which surprised him and many others.

Many other rebels had stated that they were grateful that he had returned to them safely, too. Apparently, the Rebel Army was not the same without him.

It was humbling, to say the least. He had no idea he left such an impact on others.

Because of his return, everyone felt ready to finally celebrate the end of the war.

Everyone was in a celebratory mood.

Samuel should be, too. But…he couldn’t.

He had every reason to be. He had been rescued by the hands of Killia and his beloved allies. His kids had been freed and returned to him. Nugatory was no more. It had been destroyed. By his own hand.

He could hardly believe it. His home world, his prison – gone. Along with the Tree of Death. He was free. Truly free.

But, was he?

Samuel found himself staring out into the vast Netherverse beyond the glass panels of Gorgeous Reborn once more. He had done such a thing many times before. Yet, in the past he did so out of awe. Now, it was out of concern.

Seedlings, Snap Draingons…they still existed. Out there in the Netherverse. He could feel them. Sense them. The Tree of Death, Abimael made sure he could when he was merged with the tree. And he had taken advantage of that when he reversed the effect of Snap Draingons at the time.

But now, the Snap Draingons had returned to ‘normal’. They were still stealing energy from the Netherworlds they infested, but no longer for the Tree of Death, but for themselves.

He…had learnt quite a bit about Seedlings and Snap Draingons while merged with the Tree of Death. And everything he had learnt was alarming.

He had to do something about it.

Alone.

Samuel turned away from staring out at the Netherverse when he heard a playful laugh. He smiled when he saw that his kids were running about, carefree, playing with some of the younger members of the Rebel Army.

There were no words to describe how relieved he was that three of his kids survived. That they had listened to his words and hid when things turned, in their words, scary at Nugatory.

They were too young to properly describe what had happen at Nugatory, but what they did tell him was that the others had ‘left’ and it was just the three of them, left to fend for themselves in Nugatory for months on end.

At least they were safe now.

The kids played with a group of Slumbering Cats while Lieze watched on from a bench. And stood close to her was Killia, watching over them all like a protective guardian. A father figure, even.

Lieze was wonderful with the children. They would be better off with her. Along with Killia, they would make an adorable family. The kids would take to them quickly, he was sure.

Besides, he could not take them with him when he ventured out to destroy the Snap Draingons on his own. It would be too dangerous. And unfair on them.

It was also unfair on Killia to ask him to help him.

Samuel remembered what happened in Nugatory. When Killia freed him from being the heart of the Tree of Death. In a moment of weakness, he had…kissed him.

He flushed with shame and looked away, turning his gaze back to the Netherverse outside once more.

If nothing else, it made it perfectly clear that Killia did not feel the same. He did not kiss him back. He did not push him away, sure. He was too kind to reject him in a hostile manner. But he did not return the gesture.

A hand clasping his shoulder suddenly made Samuel jump. The hand tightened, causing him to turn his head to the side, his gaze immediately colliding with that of golden honey. The eyes of the person he both wanted and did not want to see.

“You seemed troubled by something,” Killia stated, his concern blatant.

“Oh, hey, sorry,” Samuel instinctively returned. “I guess I’m still in shock about Nugatory.”

Killia nodded his head in understanding but kept his hand on his shoulder. “Is that all?”

A part of Samuel wanted to say yes and brush it off, wanting to keep his thoughts to himself. Not wanting to bother Killia anymore than he already had. And yet, another part wanted to bare his soul to him. To at least give him the opportunity of knowing the truth.

“…No,” he admitted. “There’s something else.”

Killia squeezed his shoulder, seemingly expecting that response. “Let’s talk in private.”

Samuel nodded. Killia dropped his hand from his shoulder and they both turned, flaring their wings to fly to the walkway above the main bridge. They headed to the furthest corner platform, Killia landing first with Samuel moving to land a few feet in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” Killia immediately asked.

“I’m…not entirely sure where to start,” Samuel admitted as he turned to look out into the Netherverse once more. “I guess I’ll start from when I was merged with the Tree of Death. I had learned a bit more about Seedlings and Snap Draingons. And about me, too, I guess.”

The information he learnt about the Snap Draingons and Seedlings were true. About himself? He…did not want to think about that.

“I tried to destroy all the Snap Draingons from the Tree of Death, but there was too many of them. All I could do was instead reverse their purpose. Return the energy that the Tree of Death had stolen through the many countless years.”

“With the Tree of Death now destroyed, what will happen to these Snap Draingons and their Seedlings?” Killia asked. A reasonable question.

One that Samuel was hesitant to answer. He looked away and wrung his hands together in front of him. “…Each Snap Draingon has the potential to one day turn into a Tree of Death.”

“What?!”

Samuel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, granting Killia a sympathetic smile. “Yeah. One consolation is that it could take many years for that to happen. It won’t happen overnight, thankfully. The tree will need to become the core of Netherworld and it will need the deaths of hundreds of thousands of demons for it to occur. There is still time to seek them out and destroy them.”

I was not going be easy, but it had to be done. Someone, namely him, had to do it.

“My war continues, it seems.”

Killia immediately stepped forward and took him by the elbow, guiding him to turn around to face him. “You won’t have to face it alone. I’ll help you.”

Samuel would like that. He would love that, but he could not accept it.

“No. This is my duty to bear.”

Killia looked genuinely confused. “What?”

Samuel reached up with his hand and gently, painfully on his part, pried Killia’s hand from his elbow. “As the last remaining defender, it falls to me to locate the rest of these Seedlings and Snap Draingons, and destroy them. Even now, as we stand here, I can sense them. Out in nearby Netherworlds. There are thousands of them, Killia.”

He was not about to demand potentially hundreds of years of Killia’s life to be dedicated to hunting down Seedlings and Snap Draingons when he clearly had better things to do.

“As the Sentient of the Tree of Death said; Demons are created to be evil. There are outliers, like you, but at their core, demons are evil. And all it will take is one demon to take one Seedling to create another Tree of Death. And it starts all over again. Another war, another evil that threatens the Netherverse. That's all it will take.”

As far as he was aware, Warden Naraka was still out there somewhere. He could be cultivating several Snap Draingons as they speak. He could even be nurturing a new Arch-Overlord. He may be more dedicated to Project: Wasteland than ever before.

Anything was possible.

“Only Halflings can use the cleansing technique,” Samuel continued. “And I refuse to allow my kids to become defenders. They're too young. They deserve to live normal lives. They deserve someone to search for their parents, and to be reunited with them. If they're still alive, of course. And future Halflings, they don't need to get involved in any of this.”

No, it was him. It was all on him. No one deserved to get involved.

No one.

Killia suddenly looked frustrated. “None of that explains why I can’t help you. None.”

Samuel shook his head, exasperated. “Wouldn’t you rather stay on Flowerful with Lieze?”

Killia fell silent and Samuel sighed. Yeah, thought so. He wanted nothing more than to stay with Killia. To spend the rest of his life with him. But he couldn’t. Not when he was with Lieze. Being forced to watch the two of them together, acting as the perfect couple? That was asking too much.

So, it was official, huh?

Samuel smiled sadly as he stepped to the side and patted Killia on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

Killia suddenly snared him by the elbow and he tugged him toward him sharply, pulling him against his chest. “Samuel, listen-”

“Killia, stop it.” Something in Samuel broke as he fell into Killia’s arms once more, and though he had the physical strength to push him away, he couldn’t. He curled his hands into fists and pressed them against Killia’s chest, his head bowed forward as he could not find it in him to look him in the eyes. “Just…stop. Listen. I love you. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. That’s why.”

“And that’s why I need to stay with you.”

Samuel snapped his head up. “What?”

Killia used that opportunity to lean forward and…kissed him.

Samuel stilled, his eyes widening as he stared at Killia’s face. He was…he was actually kissing him. His lips were pressed against his. He could feel them; soft, a little chapped from the harsh conditions of the endless battles, but gentle all the same.

After a long, drawn-out moment, Killia pulled back and Samuel stared at him in a daze. He lifted a hand to lightly touch his lips with his fingertips in bewilderment. “B-but Lieze?”

Killia smiled at him as he shook his head. “Lieze gave me a heart, the Rebel Army gave me a purpose, but you gave my life meaning. Lieze is family, and she always will be. Just like the kids will always be your family. And how the others and the rebel army will always be our family.”

Y-yeah, that was true.

He…

Samuel leaned forward to thump his forehead against Killia’s shoulder, resting fully, comfortably in his arms and against his chest. “Sorry. I’m not an immune to mind games as I thought. When I was merged with the Tree of Death, it said that the Netherverse’s destruction was one heartbreak away. I know it was talking about me. I thought…”

Being alone would…protect everyone. Including his heart.

“I know,” Killia said as he wound his arms around his waist and pulled him closer. “You were being a martyr, as usual.”

Was that one of the curses of being a Halfling?

Samuel leaned back slightly, only so he could gaze upon his face. “But I could go demonic if my heart was ever broken.”

“I won’t let you,” Killia swiftly returned. “Not because of the fear of you going demonic, but because you deserve to be treasured for the rest of your life.”

“Killia…”

Samuel cupped the side of Killia’s face and gazed into his eyes lovingly, before he leaned forward, his eyelids slipping closed and pressed his lips against Killia’s. Killia’s arms tightened around him, somehow pulling him even closer without overpowering him, his touch both warm and pleasurable.

He…had never been with anyone before. Never kissed anyone. Never loved anyone so intently before in his life. He had not the faintest idea what he was doing. So, he left it up to instinct, and to Killia, to lead him and to guide him.

Neither had led him astray before, and they would not now.

… … … … …

Samuel and Killia had spent quite some time on that walkway above the main bridge getting reacquainted with each other. Only a phone call from a rather irritated Seraphina, ‘kindly’ reminding them that the Rebel Army was celebrating the end of the war and that there was to be a fireworks display prompted them to remember that they had better make an appearance before someone came looking for them.

Thankfully, they were not doing anything too outlandish. Talked, mostly. About what they were to do now that the war was over. Samuel, of course, still had his war to contend with, one that Killia still insisted on helping with him. And there was no way of talking him out of it.

Samuel was, honestly, relieved that he did not have to face it alone. The Rebel Army was to stay together for a little bit longer. They wanted, needed to restore the damage that had been done across the Netherverse. And if they happen to cross paths with some Seedlings and Snap Draingons, well of course they would deal with them, too.

Needless to say, Samuel loved his rebels.

Hand in hand, Samuel and Killia slipped from the walk way and back to the communal area with the others. Killia had to help Red Magnus with the fireworks, and Samuel wanted to have a proper word with Lieze, so they (rather reluctantly, honestly) parted ways.

“Samuel, there you are.” Christo suddenly calling out to him stopped him in his tracks. “May I have a word with you?”

“Sure, of course,” Samuel immediately replied. “What is it?”

Christo looked at him, his posture surprisingly tense and his expression serious. “I’ll get straight to the point. Arch-Overlord mentioned something about a Lady Archangel being involved. Involved in the managing of your prison. I want to promise to you that once I return to Cele-Certain Giant, I will investigate this matter thoroughly. And if true, there will be hell to pay…”

Samuel was taken aback by the revelation of an archangel being involved in the abduction and possible torture of Halflings. He, however, was soon comforted by Christo’s words and smiled at him.

“I trust you, Christo,” he said without hesitation. “And I believe in you. I know that under your watchful eye, there won’t be another Nugatory.”

Whether he found that Lady Archangel or not was irrelevant. As long as there wasn’t another prison like Netherworld that imprisoned Halflings.

With that, Samuel excused him from Christo and went in search of Lieze. He found her easily enough, sat on that same bench, keeping an ever-watchful eye over the children. Thinking of it now, she, too, would thrive in a much busier environment, filled with souls for her to fuss over.

“Lieze.”

Lieze looked up at him with an inquisitive tilt of her head. “Is everything all right?”

Ah, Killia must have told her that he was going to speak with him about something.

“Yes, it is now,” Samuel replied with a smile as he sat down on the bench next to her. “Though, I would like your help with something.”

Lieze immediately pivoted in her seat to face him. “What is it?”

Samuel motioned toward his kids with a tilt of his head. “These kids have been locked away and sheltered their whole lives. They’ve never seen the outside world. They need someone to help them to acclimatize to life within the Netherverse. Can you help me with that?”

“Me?”

“Well, you’re Killia’s family, so you’re my family, too,” Samuel explained readily. Of course, he wasn’t about to leave her out in the cold, now was he? “We’re thinking of settling on Flowerful. It’s the perfect Netherworld for Halflings to grow up on. It’s safe, peaceful. Different to the one we were imprisoned upon. And, perhaps, one day, a safe haven for other Halflings.”

Lieze smiled brightly and nodded her head eagerly. “I very much would like that, too.”

“There’s another reason I asked. I suppose Killia has told you about Seedlings?” He received a nod and he smiled apologetically. “Well, I’m afraid there are still some floating out in the Netherverse. And I’m the one only left to hunt them down. I won’t let any of my kids into that life. So, sorry, there will be times where Killia and I will need to leave Flowerful in the hunt of Seedlings and Snap Draingons. It’s my burden to bear, but Killia won’t let me shoulder the burden alone.”

Lieze placed a hand on her hip and wagged at finger at him. “And he shouldn’t.”

Samuel gave a small laugh before he paused and looked at the woman in silence for a moment. “Thank you, Lieze.”

“Hm?”

“No, it’s just with your help I get to live a life I never thought I would.”

Lieze fell silent as she gazed at him in return. She slowly folded her hands upon her lap as an expression of wistfulness appeared on her face. “…I must thank you, as well.”

Samuel tilted his head to the side. “For what?”

“For what you’ve done for Killia,” she replied. “And what you’ve done for me. I heard your voice, when I was…You were a stranger to me, but your voice was so kind and gentle. It comforted me. I immediately believed you, when you said everything was going to be all right. And you’re right. Everything is going to be all right. For us both.”

Samuel looked at her in surprise before he smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Sammie!”

Samuel sighed fondly as Jeremy rushed over to him. “Jeremy,” he said, feigning exasperation as he pinched Jeremy’s nose. “Indoor voice.”

Jeremy scrunched up his face and pouted after Samuel let go. “Sammie,” he said again, quieter than before. “Everyone’s saying you and Killia are like married, or something close, or something. Is that true?”

“…H-huh?” Samuel stuttered, blushing deeply.

Jeremy puffed out his cheeks, pouting childishly, while waiting for an answer.

Next to him, Lieze giggled, while also waiting for an answer. And it did not take Samuel long to realise that a sudden silence had fallen down around him. No ordinary silence, of course. A silence of anticipation.

Samuel flushed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. “Y-yes, it’s true that we’re together.”

He was greatly shocked when a loud, boisterous cheer went up around him. Jeremy expression turned into that of childish disbelief while Lieze clapped her hands in front of her joyously before she scooted closer to him and hooked her arm through his.

“Congratulations!” she said in earnest. “I’m glad that the two of you worked it out finally.”

“Y-yeah,” was all Samuel could utter out.

“Hey, hey!” Red Magnus shouted suddenly. “The fireworks display is about to begin! Time to get super rowdy!”

Oh, good. Time for celebrations to really kick off.

“Jeremy, go get your siblings,” Samuel said as he and Lieze both stood up from the bench. “You don’t want to miss the fireworks display.”

“What’s fireworks?” Jeremy asked.

“You’ll see. Now, hurry.”

Jeremy turned and hurried off, doing as he was told. As he did so, he passed Killia as he walked through the masses, receiving a series of smirks, sniggers, and back pats by their fellow rebels. To say he was a tad confused was an understatement.

Lieze hid a laugh behind her hand and Samuel smiled apologetically as Killia made his way over to them.

“Everyone is acting strangely,” he simply said.

“My fault,” Samuel replied as he leaned forward and pressed himself against Killia’s chest, the other quickly slipping his arms around his waist. “Jeremy heard some gossip and I couldn’t lie to him.”

A flicker of realisation appeared in Killia’s honey gold eyes. “Ah.”

Samuel felt someone suddenly barrel into from behind, wrapping their arms around his waist and hugging him. He jumped, startled, but promptly relaxed when he realised that they were none other than Usalia.

She must be pleased as punch to have her ‘parents’ back together.

Gossip did not take long, did it?

“Grrr, what do you think you’re doing?” Seraphina asked, bristling all the while.

No, gossip did not take long at all.

“Now now,” Lieze said as she picked Tyler up into her arms and expertly balanced the small boy on her hip. “It’s time for celebration. Let’s not ruin the fireworks display with petty fights, hm?”

Christo and Zeroken soon joined them, just as the first rockets of fireworks went up just outside the windows of Gorgeous Reborn. Usalia unwound her arms from Samuel’s waist so that she, too, could gaze upon the fireworks. And Samuel shifted in Killia’s arms, moving to press against his right side, where Lieze stood to his left.

As a magnitude of colours danced and sparkled before them, they culminated into a symbol that their greatest struggles were over. There was still much work to do, but the pain and suffering that they had endured was over.

They were free.

And that including Samuel himself.

Samuel looked away from the fireworks display to gaze upon Killia for a moment, only to find himself look back at him, too. They gazed at each other silently for a moment before they both smiled and Samuel leaned his head on Killia’s shoulder, prompting him to place a kiss to the top of his head.

The Netherverse was not perfect, but it was his, and Samuel would do whatever was necessary to protect it. And those who called it home.

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Walk Her Home, Stay Awhile

by KryptoniteKid (Nanarchy)

After the end of episode 9, Vi takes Caitlyn back to Piltover. But she grapples with whether or not she should stay. Caitlyn lets her know that's just not acceptable anymore. Caitlyn pretty much cries through the entirety of this whole fic. That splosion looked like it probably took out the whole room, and Caitlyn was wrecked in that last clip, so I just needed to write down my feels about the whole thing. And Vi was suuuuch a lil bitch in episode 8 so I'm processing that at the same time.

Words: 1752, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Caitlyn (League of Legends), Vi (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Sad Caitlyn (League of Legends), Protective Vi (League of Legends), Angst and Tragedy, Smut, No Fluff, Character Death

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’

[bisexualpotatobitch]

Sixth Year, a Summary: Chapter 13

James Potter

I walked into the common room. Cynthia was using charades to try to get Fred to understand something. It had been about a month since Cynthia went mute and none of us had picked up on or cared to learn any BSL. Sometimes, if she really needed to talk, she’d whisper, but she hardly ever did due to the pain it caused her.

Vicky and Teddy were standing, talking about something. I walked over to them and hugged Vicky from behind. I rested my chin on her shoulder, “Hey, bitch.”

She tensed, which is not what I was expecting. She moved my hands away shakily and turned to face me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. Sorry.” she muttered.

“Are you sure?” I glanced uncertainly at Teddy before looking back down at her, “You look like—”

I was interrupted by Alice storming into the common room, visibly pissed, “That fucking Goyle! Fucking little piece of shit got us both detention for the week. And then he decides to fucking—” she groaned, “I fucking hate my life.”

We locked eyes for a moment before she walked up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I’m taking your swords.” she muttered.

I felt myself go pale, “Fucking shit!” I cried, running after her, only a few steps behind her. She burst into my dormitory and threw open my trunk. I grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. Vicky vaulted over both of us and grabbed the swords from my trunk. She tossed them to Teddy. I stood up, grabbed the swords from him, and started running. 

I didn’t look back. I didn’t stop. I didn’t care what I had to do to ensure that Alice would hurt herself. I kept running until I could run no further. I slowed to a stop, panting for breath. 

I glanced behind me and saw nothing. I sighed a sigh of relief and looked around. I needed a place to hide the swords. Suddenly, as if by magic, a door appeared. Now that I think of it, this was Hogwarts, so it definitely was magic. I opened the door and walked inside. 

Inside, the room was littered with random objects. There was stuff everywhere. A lot of it looked as if it had been damaged by fire, but some of it was still intact, including some old rusted swords with which I hid my own. I wandered through the aisles in awe, before I heard the sound of the door opening and closing behind me. I froze, unsure of what to do.

“What are you doing here, Potter? Hiding your weapons from your dear sweet girlfriend? Let the bitch cut herself if she wants, I say.” The person (likely a male based on their voice, but who am I to make such assumptions?) said.

I scoffed, “Who are you and what do you want? And why do you hate Alice?”

“That’s none of your business.” They spat. They reached into their pocket and pulled out something. From my point of view, I couldn’t see what it was.

“But since she’s not here, I suppose you can take her punishment. Unless you tell me where she is.” They rounded the corner and I finally got a good look at what they were holding; a Webley Revolver.

I laughed. I know, I should’ve been scared. And believe me, anywhere else I would’ve been, but this was Hogwarts. “You idiot! Non-magical objects don’t work here.”

I expected them to be embarrassed. I expected them to walk away. Hell, they could’ve pulled out their wand and I wouldn’t have been surprised! I didn’t expect them to cock the gun, “Bold of you to assume this isn’t magic.” they said.

I paled. Now I was starting to get scared. I stood there, frozen. I watched as they stepped closer, “W-what?”

“It’s enchanted, dumbass.”

“Enchanted how?” I asked, hoping with the entirety of my soul that it wasn’t an accuracy spell.

“Infinite ammunition. But that doesn’t matter right now. I’ll give you three seconds to tell me where Alice is.” They told me, “One.”

Too many thoughts started running through my head. Who is this guy? Why do they want to hurt Alice? Where the hell am I and can I be found?

That last one took me by surprise. I’m not the type of guy to think logically. But this was different. 

“Two.”

I vaguely remembered my dad telling me and Teddy about a secret room in Hogwarts when we were like five years old. He said it didn’t show up on the Marauders’ map. I figured that Alice had looked for me on the map, only to find that I wasn’t there. I prayed that her parents had told her about the room and that she and Teddy were on their way.

“Three.” The word pulled me out of my thoughts. I scrambled over to where I’d put my swords, but I was a second too late. The bullet shot through the side of my knee. The adrenaline kept me standing for a bit. But as soon as I took another step, I collapsed on the ground with a cry of pain.

“Stay still, dammit.” They muttered, raising the pistol once more.

“Expelliarmus!” Alice called from the door. She and Teddy rushed in. They rounded on the offender, who ducked into a large wooden cabinet and shut the door. When Alice opened the door again, they were gone, “Shit, where’d he go?”

“You can’t just assume they’re a guy, Alice.” I said, my words slightly slurred.

Teddy and Alice looked over at me, concerned, “You alright, mate?” Teddy asked.

“Never better. But that might just be the adrenaline talking.” I repositioned myself, moving my leg in the process. Big mistake. I winced in pain and Teddy and Alice saw the blood smeared on the floor, “Yeah, definitely the adrenaline.” I said through gritted teeth.

The next thing I knew, they were at my side. Alice rolled up the leg of my trousers and grimaced. I looked down at my bloodied, wounded knee. “Damn. That bullet went straight through,” I said, though it was kind of hard to tell with the room spinning.

“Bullet? You were shot?” Teddy exclaimed.

“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit, but—”

“How is that even possible? Muggle objects don’t work at Hogwarts!”

“Yeah, the asshole enchanted it.” I explained. “What are you doing?” I asked Alice, who was frantically looking around.

“Trying to find something to use as a bandage, dumbass.” She said. She finally found some tattered old cloaks. She ripped one into a thin strip and tied it tightly around my knee, “Can you stand?”

“With or without crumbling to the ground in tears and losing so much blood that I act insanely drunk and start confessing random shit I did when I was like six?”

“Without, preferably.” She said, slightly taken aback at my specificity.

“Oh, then there’s no chance.”

“Okay.” Despite her attempts to sound calm, I could tell she was panicking, “So then we’ll carry you, and—”

“All the way to the Hospital Wing?” Teddy asked skeptically, “I’ve got a better idea. You know Robin?”

“My cousin? Yeah, I know her.” I said.

“Dumb question, sorry. Basically, since they pushed back apparation lessons to seventh year for some reason, I convinced her to teach me. I’ve only ever done it with myself, and never this far, but—”

“Whatever.” Alice interrupted, “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?” Teddy opened his mouth to speak, but Alice shook her head, “Don’t answer that. It’s our only option.”

Maybe I blacked out, or maybe it worked, but a few seconds later, we were in the Hospital Wing, startling Madam Pomfrey. “What on earth happened?” she asked, seeing the bloodstained cloth around my knee.

“He was shot.” Alice said.

“What?” Pomfrey exclaimed.

“With a gun.” I added.

“What?” She shouted, “How is that even—”

“The gun was enchanted.” we said in unison.

“I…I see.” she said, calming herself down, “Have a seat on the bed, I can’t work on the floor.” she hurried away to gather her shit.

We glanced at each other, “I can’t stand.” I whispered, “And I’m way too proud to allow you to carry me.”

Teddy nodded, “Right. Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.” he said, drawing his wand.

“What are you—”

“Levicorpus.”I’ve flown before. Hell, I’ve flown upside down before. I mean, I played quidditch for two years. This wasn’t anything new. Except…it was. I had no control over my body. Not to mention the fact that I’d lost a lot of blood, and the little that remained was rushing to my head. So when I was laid on the bed, I was already close to passing out. But then Pomfrey came out holding a needle and thread, and I can’t remember what happened next.

[oldgodlover]

N'zoth Whumptober 2023

Day 13: Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

He felt the water surrounding his head.  It went inside the airways through the nose. Going through the small gaps between his teeth as he clenched them. It filled his mouth. The salted water reached the trachea and he tried to cough, but it was useless. His throat dried, while his eyes cried from the burning sensation invading the entirety of his chest.  He tried to move his body. To find a way out. His hands and legs were tied together. Yet, he didn’t stop to struggle to get out of this situation. 

Last one for tonight!

Let's hope I can publish more tomorrow 🤞