#I mean I’ve known the truth for so long now and I become numb to it at times but when I saw that poor pig paralysed and cold

[saturdaymournings]

Just watched pignorant and holy fucking shit was it crazy.

[abovethissilentworld]

I.

In the pure, brimming rose of her hair I have lost myself, a perception of such intense eloquence that I ultimately forget to speak. This foolishly paralytic inaction has left me with no choice – I must leave myself behind, knowing now it’s only way I’ll ever find myself again.

II.

Proposition, stress, and pressure faintly looms behind the soft, urban sundown. Shimmering oscillations of radiant tones caress the overlap of the highway’s elegant curves with the oncoming horizon. When the winds cease to whir and the pavement rumble smooths to an echoless glass, the motion of the car becomes time itself. When all the probabilities of anything and everything start revolving around the impotent mastery of thoughtless automation, the world ceases to be physical. The tempest of forced decisiveness creates a vacuum where sensation turns evasive, leaving a trail of clues sporadically littered behind the façade of conscious thought, and only in the still of pure numbness may the detective be permitted to investigate them. Back in the days where neuronal overlap still produced new insights and motorists congested highways, the information race conveniently obstructed the perception of the natural order. Now, there’s nothing left but sound beyond the waveform, sight beyond the sky, and love outside the soul.

III.

The concrete sprawl emits an attitude of nonchalance with an oeuvre of silicon figurines rearranging themselves. Sliding, shifting, jumping, twirling, falling. Their amalgamation of childhood dreams are crudely sprayed across the silent cityscape, erected unassumingly under the cloudless sky. In the brilliant daylight of late August, the veins of Montreal course a tender anticipation for the sweat-laden fogs that enmesh sincerity with delusion. For now, though, the city remains silent. The loquacious Earth, hiding beneath my feet, is indifferent to the geography of my stance. She recodes throughout the world the exact same answer to every possible question. Thus, no city tells you anything new. No city truly speaks for itself. Each new world is merely an old world redressed in the flamboyant garments of difference, a diversion from the unassuming truth.

IV.

In the sonic periphery of my own internal monologue, some jangly guitar tone jumps ahead of the beat to elegantly stymy all other sound, allowing itself to leap gracefully across synaptic silence into the annals of my sensory memory. Periodically, this excerpt itches deep within the crevasses of life’s vacant moments, an unreachable irritant that aggravates the dissonance between function and meaning. These tiny fragments of music are a gentle fragility enhanced by a world of untamed longing, punctuating the spaces between self and other as though deprivation itself was a sentence spoken casually. The invisible entity that occupies the empty space directly in front of me is the sound of my own history. It plays to me the melodies of lamentation from decades past, sung by people I’ll never meet, inspired by situations I’ve not yet experienced. So distant from my own, these are the worlds that produce the only caress my heart has ever known, nurturing the deprivation as a substitute for feeling.

Variations on 2022's August, Richmond, BC and Montreal, QC - Aged 26.

[yeahimaloser]

Wingless

Hello! So this was the fic I've been working on, and I just wanted to quickly say this is an AU-based fic (Kinda).

WARNING MANGA SPOILERS

So I understand what's going on in the manga, but I started this fic when Keigo was injured. so I wrote a fic about how Keigo and you would deal with him losing both his wings and a part of himself.

this story contains manga spoilers, as well as warnings of mental and physical abuse (kind of), hurt to comfort, mentions of Depression, blood, someone gets glass stuck in their hand, and therapy.

no pronouns are given to the reader. Word count: 7k

. . .

You practically ran through the hospital, not listening to the nurses and doctors as they told you to slow your pace. Your mind only screamed out for him, screaming for him to be alive, for him to just be okay. You could hear your heart thumping hard against your chest, tears spilling down your cheeks.

As you ran near his room, a doctor finally managed to stop you.

“Please, calm down! He’s in this room but I can not allow you in if you act like this. You will only stress my patient out more, and we have just managed to sedate him.” the doctor held out his hands as he spoke, trying to calm you.

Although, it clearly wasn’t working. Your eyes only shone more with brimming tears, your hands shook as the doctor spoke.

After a few minutes of you catching your breath and calming yourself down, the doctor told you that you were able to see him.

You felt as if your whole body was on fire as you walked through the doors to his hospital room.

The window that overlooked the city gave an impressive view (if it wasn’t in a hospital, you probably would have stopped and looked down at the city below). The bathroom, you could see, was on your left. There was even a vanity and a television in the room as well.

But you really didn’t have time to look around, your eyes were already focused on the man that lay on the hospital bed.

Machines were hooked up to him, tubes ran out of his skin every witch way. He was flipped on his stomach to accommodate his wings or lack thereof. Bandages covered almost every area you could see, the blood on them was minimal, yet they looked new, meaning they had been changed.

You rushed to his side, stopping only when the line of his IV almost collide with your foot.

“Keigo,” you said it so lightly you were afraid only you could even hear it.

But Keigo’s eyes shot open, looking up at you, “...Y/N?”

God, his voice was a raspy mess, it sounded as though it wasn’t even his.

If you could, you would break down right then and there. Crying over him, telling him you were there for him, that you would always be there for him, no matter the hardships he was sure to overcome. You wanted desperately to hold him, to whisper love-filled words to him, to wipe away the pain you knew he was feeling.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t.

You knew you had to be strong for him in that moment, and for all the moments yet to come. You knew that what was going to happen to you two would not be easy.

So you couldn’t cry, no matter how much you wanted to.

You lightly stroked his cheek, “I’m here Kei, I’m right here. I won't leave you.”

Silent tears ran down his face as he spoke, his voice cracking, “I’m sorry.”

----

After what happened with Dabi Toya, the commission tried their best to cover everything up, telling the public that Dabi had to be wrong. But the public eye was persistent.

The truth was out, there was nothing you or Keigo could do to stop it. Everyone knew about his name, his father, and what he had done to Twice, as well as the fact that he had lost to Dabi. You knew it would be hard for him to come back to that.

The media had always been a bit ruthless when it came to Keigo, but now, it was up by tenfold. They talked about how they believed that Keigo was not worthy of his hero title. A false hero they called him.

And Keigo?

Luckily, he didn’t hear very much of it. You made sure of that. You wanted him to rest, to let what had happened wash over him little by little, and you knew if he heard what the news had been saying about him, that he might never recover.

When Keigo was a bit more stable, he still rarely talked.

His eyes didn’t shine like they used to, his face, once so uplifting and beautiful, was marred with a long scar that he had on his face.

But no matter what, you stayed with him, no matter what, you would be by his side.

But seeing Keigo like this? It was unbearable.

He would only eat if you were there to persuade him, he would only look at you if you practically begged him to.

You knew it was a selfish want, you knew it was, but you wanted your Keigo back. You wanted the man who held you in his arms, telling you he would fly to the moon and back if it meant you would give him your love. You wanted the man that stopped at nothing to protect others, you wanted the man that smiled when the going got tough, you wanted Keigo.

But you had to accept that this was Keigo.

And you wouldn’t leave him, you couldn’t. He was always there for you when you needed him most, and you weren’t going to do the same.

After what had happened with Keigo, the commission thought it would be best to send him away, let the media storm die down, letting him also take time to heal his wings.

You had to fight them in order to come as well. At first, they told you that Hawks should just be concerned with getting his wings back and becoming “hero ready”.

You should have known. You knew, of course, that the HPSC was corrupted, but you didn’t think they were heartless. Yet, you were proven wrong.

You wished they could understand, you wished everyone could understand. Keigo was so loving and kind, you just wished people would understand that about him. What Keigo had to do to Twice… you knew he didn’t want to kill him, Keigo wasn’t like that. He didn’t take pleaser in violence, all he wanted was to see others happy.

And it made your blood boil that the higher up’s couldn’t understand.

You told them how Keigo needed someone to be his caretaker, and you would be the best candidate. You knew he wouldn’t object, you told them that you would work for free, seeing as he and you had been dating, as well as living together for the last few years.

Finally, with a lot of persuading, they agreed.

They sent you and Keigo to a remote location near the shores of Japan, seeing as they wanted Keigo to not remember the effects of the fight, and thought the best course of action was to send him so far out that he would have nothing to remind him of, “The Incident”.

The house was a small little thing, a lot smaller than what you and Keigo were used to at least.

It was close to the ocean, giving it a more country feeling rather than the city vibe you and Keigo used to live in. The smell of the ocean hit you full force when you two arrived, the salty, yet homie smell was a nice difference to the fullness of the air of the city.

The home had a total of seven rooms, all on the same floor.

The master bedroom had enough space, it fit a bed, a vanity, and a closet as well as a connection to the master bathroom. The walls were painted a low white, you wouldn’t call it cream however that was the closest rendition. The floors were all wood, you could feel the sand beneath your feet, you had a feeling the stuff would get everywhere.

There were three bathrooms, a guest room, a living room, and a kitchen.

The whole house honestly just felt...nice.

The floors felt grainy against your feet, but it felt weirdly cozy, kind of like how a beach house should feel. The carpeting was a bit musty for your taste, you had a feeling that would be your first project to do with the house. The couch was a bit too firm, you expected that, but still, it just needed to be worn in. The kitchen wasn’t big, but for two people, it would do.

You spent the first week moving in, all by yourself.

Keigo would only stay in bed, looking out the window, in some far-off world he was in.

You wanted to cry when you would walk into the master bedroom and see him upright on the mattress, not doing or saying anything, just staring, a shell of the man you once knew.

It made your heart clench though, normally, Keigo would always be the first to lend a helping hand, that was just his nature, to want to help. But this, this was something that broke you even more.

-----

The first few weeks were rough.

Not hard, just rough.

The only way you could even describe Keigo was just numb.

His eyes were sunken, his hair a tattered mess. His face was droopy, the once perfect-looking man now sat alone in bed, looking as though he was almost near death.

And his scar.

It served as a perfect reminder of what had happened, a symbol of the pain Keigo had gone through. You knew what he felt when he saw it, you knew what he was probably thinking when he looked in the mirror to have the long stripe of red and pink looking back at him.

Yet, you pretended not to notice.

He would barely say anything to you, choosing instead, to be silent.

For the first few days, it was hard to get him out of bed, hard for him to even eat anything.

On most days you found yourself sitting alone when you ate, going on walks by yourself on the sandy beach, watching TV all alone.

You missed him, it was hard not to. But you knew that this was hardest on Keigo, so of course, you let him have all the time he needed. Letting him sulk and wallow in his self-pity, letting his feelings shroud him. You felt as though you had to, he had every right to feel this way.

But it was hard.

It was hard having Keigo sleep in the master bedroom while you slept all alone in the guest, it was hard to be so silent in the house, it was hard living with someone who was basically a ghost.

One day though, you found him crying.

You quickly ran over to him, scared that he had somehow hurt himself. But he didn’t, nothing had happened to him.

But he sat straight up in his bed, shaking like he was cold, his hands wrapped around something you couldn’t see.

“Keigo, honey?” you asked carefully as you stepped into the room, “Is everything ok hun?”

But it was like he couldn’t even hear you, whatever he was holding, it certainly had his attention.

You walked slowly over to him, reaching out to him, like he was a wounded animal, “Keigo? What is it?”

Finally, you managed to see what it was.

It was a picture of him, of him with his beautiful red wings, smiling at the camera in his hero outfit, with one hand giving a thumbs up and the other around your waist.

In comparison to the picture, you could barely tell it was Keigo anymore. With his sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones, the scar is a stripe of change.

“Keigo I-” you took a deep breath, what were you supposed to even say? How could you even console him? How could you help ease his pain?

You couldn’t.

So you just held him, held him in your arms, trying to hide your tears from him, so he wouldn’t see you hurting as well.

. . .

But one day, when you were sitting on the porch of your borrowed home, watching the waves hit the sandy beach below, watching the sun as it hit the horizon.

It was bitter-sweet, you were all alone, watching the beautiful sight without anyone to share it with.

You sighed, contemplating whether or not to go back inside, but then... Keigo came.

It startled you, you weren’t expecting him to come off his bed, much less to see you.

He sat down in the nice little chair that was right next to you.

He didn’t say anything for a good few moments, but then, all of a sudden he spoke.

“The ocean looks really pretty, I like...I like being here with you.”

You were shocked, to say the least. Keigo had barely acknowledged your presence during this time, he hadn’t spoken to you at all during these few weeks. So to hear him say that...

You damn near cried.

You had been holding in your anxiousness and, overall, depression of not having Keigo back to his regular self. It was hard, that much was certain, but still, he was going through such a difficult time, you had to be there for him.

You quickly brushed the tear that had feel from your eye, “I-I like being here with you too.”

----

After that, things were...different.

Keigo was a bit more clingy, although, maybe you should say protective.

You would go out on your walks and would come home to him being upset, asking where you were, and fussing about you going out.

“Well, what if something happened? Just stay here.”

You asked the doctors about that, they told you how some patients latched on to certain things or people after a traumatic event, most of the time clinging desperately to what they felt was the only thing they had left.

They told you his newfound desire to be near you could be a sign of him getting worse, or it could be a sign he was getting better.

The doctor told you it was much more likely that Keigo needed something to hang on to, a sort of attachment. And again, they told you Keigo needed to see a therapist, he had so much trauma after the battle that you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.

You knew that you should listen and that you probably couldn’t deal with Keigo all on your own. But still, you wanted to move at Keigo's pace, and you knew he needed time.

. . .

The first night you and Keigo spent in the same bed after what had happened was...strange.

Although you two lived in the same little beach house for a month now, you two haven't slept next to one another, you weren’t sure Keigo was ready just yet.

And yet, he was the one who asked you.

It happened on a normal day, while you were making dinner when Keigo spoke.

“Hey...Y/N..” you turned back to him, giving him your full attention, “Could we….could we try sleeping together? I know...I know it’s been some time but-”

“Yes!” you hastily accepted, “I mean...only if you want to.”

And so, you found yourself curled up next to Keigo, feeling him cuddled up to you, which was nice of course, but his body felt stiff like it didn’t want to be close to you.

The whole experience was… different. Normally, Keigo would wrap his arms around you, holding you against him, holding you securely and tightly, like you knew he wouldn’t let you go.

But this, this was different, but you should have expected that by now. You should have known that, now, it was so unlikely that you would ever see the old version of Keigo again.

And then it was there again, that slap of guilt, that pang of hurt at your own thought. How could you think that? Keigo was hurting, and you were upset that he was in pain?

You bit your lip, quietly willing yourself not to cry.

------

Keigo’s mood swings would happen randomly, with no merit at all.

One moment, he was blindly looking at the TV, the next he would be offering to help with dinner, then the next he was screaming at you to add more pepper to the onions.

When his first outburst happened, you blamed yourself.

You had left Keigo for what only seemed like a moment, going outside to feel the air on your face, wanting to just get out of the stuffy little cottage.

You were just watching from the porch when you heard it.

The sound of glass shattering.

You whipped your head to the sound, to find it coming from inside.

You rushed inside, running towards the kitchen.

“Keigo!” you cried out.

You stopped at the doorway to the kitchen, looking down at Keigo on the floor.

A glass of some sort had broken in Keigo’s hand, from what you could tell. It seemed like he had gotten some of it stuck in his hand, blood dripped onto the floor, sticking to the hardwood floor.

Keigo just stared, his eyes the most lively you’ve seen them in weeks. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge your presence, just staring at his hand, looking at the blood as it dripped...dripped...dripped.

And then, he screamed.

It was so loud and so unexpected you quickly covered your ears, trying to block out the head-splitting sound.

When you finally regained your composure, you rushed down to Keigo's side, trying your best to help him.

But Keigo shoved you away.

“No! Stop! Go away! I-I don’t wanna hurt anymore! Stop it, leave me alone!” he scooted away from you, holding out his palms, trying to make you leave.

But you wouldn’t.

Slowly, you spoke, “Keigo, I need to help you, ok? I’m not here to hurt you, baby, I’m Y/N, I love you.”

You inched closer and closer as Keigo hiccuped and sniffed.

“Stop it! Don’t c-come any closer!”

You stilled, only for a moment. Then, you moved forward again.

“Honey, I have to clean your wound, please baby.”

Keigo’s breath still raged, but he let you come closer.

Before you even looked at the wound on his hand, you gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Keigo was shocked, flinching a bit at first.

You carefully picked up his hand, observing it lightly. The glass pricked his hand, but the overall damage wasn’t all that bad, it might have been worse if you hadn’t rushed to him.

You took a deep breath, “Keigo, I’m gonna need to remove the glass-”

But Keigo cut you off, “No no no no no, please. Please, I don’t wanna get hurt again. Please.”

“Keigo,” you stroked your cheek lightly, “it’s ok, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

You purse your lips, thinking for a moment, “Remember when I got that splinter from the hardwood at that crummy hot spring? And remember how you had to pull it out? And remember how scared I was?”

He thought for a moment as if the memory was buried deep inside him, a lifetime ago. He nodded, tears still running down his face.

“It’s gonna be like that, ok? Quick, and I’ll be right there with you, just like you were for me.”

After a moment, Keigo nodded.

You made quick work of the glass, helping Keigo through the little whimpers and hiccups he let out.

Keigo was never like this before, never fighting over glass in his hand, he was a hero, he dealt with pain daily. But this Keigo was beyond damaged. He was ripped in half, put through more pain than you would ever understand, the mental strain of that had to be so much, it had to weigh on him.

The thought only made your resolve stronger, only made your need to see Keigo get better that much more secure.

After you had bandaged his hand, kissing his knuckles and wrist softly in order to calm him down, you noticed how exhausted he was.

“Do you wanna go and take a nap, Kei?”

He nodded.

You walked him to the room, helping him to bed.

You planted a small kiss on his lips before moving away to leave.

But Keigo caught the fabric of your shirt, pulling on it lightly, “Wait.”

You turned back to face him, “Yeah. what's up Kei?”

“Um, could you...join me?”

Your body perked up. This was one of the first times he had seemed...needy for contact with you. Sure, he still slept next to you, but you figured that was mainly due to some comfortability. But the way Keigo was looking at you right now? His eyes softened with desperation, his body, while still heavy with drowsiness, had enough strength to pull you to him. He seemed to genuinely want you to stay.

You smiled, a real, genuine smile, “Of course I can Keigo.”

You slid into the spot next to him, and Keigo had his arms immediately around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His face nuzzled softly into your neck, his whole body trapping you in a needed embrace.

You played with his hair, giving yourself a mental note that you needed to wash it and brush it out later.

That's when you heard the sniffling in your neck.

“Kei,” you said gently, “what’s wrong?”

It took a few labored breaths for Keigo to respond, “I’m sorry.”

At first, you were confused. What did Keigo have to be sorry about? He had done nothing wrong to you, he hadn’t said anything bad to you, the most he had really done was worry you. But he continued.

“I’m sorry for being so weak, for letting myself get like this, it’s all my fault. And I’m sorry I’m a burden for you, I know how much you loved me, how much you loved being with a strong hero,” he took another shaky breath before continuing, “But I can't. I can’t do it anymore. It hurts so bad. And now, no one wants me. I’m a failure, they’re right,” Keigo squeezed you tighter as if you would leave him too, “I’m a false hero. I failed everyone, the commission, my friends, Tokoyami. And you,” he looked back up at you, “why are you even here? I’m useless now, why can’t you see that? Why won’t you just leave? It would be better for you.”

You hadn’t even realized you had been crying before you felt how shaky your voice was, “No. Keigo that’s not true, I love-”

But he cut you off, “No!” he bolted upright, “Stop it! Stop it Y/N! I’m not who you love, that Keigo is dead and gone, look at me! I’m a shell of who he was, I’m the failure he left behind! Christ Y/N, I fucking broke down because I had fucking glass in my hand!”

He cupped his ears, seemingly trying to block out some sort of noise that you couldn’t even hear. Rocking back and forth lightly, his bandaged hand squeezing hard on his left ear.

“Keigo stop it,” you tried to get his hand away, “you're going to hurt yourself!”

After fighting him for a moment, you finally got him to put his hands down. You pulled him to you, placing his head on your chest as you calmed him down.

“Kei,” you said after a long stretch of silence, “I love you, and I’m not leaving you.”

Keigo hiccuped, “B-but.”

You shushed him, “No but’s. I’m here to stay, it’ll be hard, I know that, but I can’t leave you.”

For the first time in God now’s how long, Keigo reached up and kissed you.

It wasn’t a light, small little peck either, it was a sloppy, desired-filled kiss. You were shocked at first, seeing as how he was yelling at you a second ago, but you let yourself indulge a bit. You craved Keigo, missed his lips, his strong, protective hands that run up your body, you just missed him really.

Your hand moved down to his chest, pulling him deeper. His hands grabbed onto your hips, pulling you more in.

His teeth clashed against yours, and maybe it was because you two haven't done this in so long, or it was because neither of you cared.

You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as Keigo pushed more against you, pushing you near the head of the bed.

After a few moments of the kiss, you pulled away.

“Please,” Keigo whispered lightly, “Please don’t leave me.”

------

After that, the situation with you and Keigo became so much more complicated.

Keigo would become so irritable, that you had to stand outside for hours just for him to calm down.

But the worst was when he acted so apologetic afterward, saying his, “I’m sorry”’s over and over again, sputtering about how he would, “do better.”

Of course, you felt like absolute shit, wanting to scream, to cry, to leave even. But you couldn’t. Keigo was in so much pain, you had to be strong now, you had to be there for him like he had been for you. You shoved down your tears, fighting the urge to scream and cry, waiting out your feelings.

Was it a bad coping mechanism? Yes. But you already felt so useless, you didn’t want to be a burden too.

For a while, you had hoped that he would help himself get better, you had hoped that he really was trying to get better and understand how to help himself more, but as time went on, you saw how naive you were.

You realized that Keigo was almost beyond repair, some days he would be silently upset, not talking or saying anything. While others you could hear it in his voice.

While some days you came into your shared room to see him curled up on the bed, crying and whimpering. And then there was you, unable to help, unable to tell him how, “it would be ok,” how, “I’m here for you, Kei.”

Because you knew he wouldn’t listen.

And yet, he would never yell at you, never scream or degrade you, he would only seem to be mad at...himself.

Yet, it was strange, because he seemed to grow more and more protective of you.

If you were to leave the house, he would become upset, saying how; “You could have gotten hurt, next time either take me with you or stay...please.”

It was strange how he always asked, how he never demanded.

But today, today was different.

You had noticed that Keigo was especially irritable, so you decided to just stay out of his way. Deciding to work on meal prep, because of Keigo’s accident the doctors told you to watch his meals carefully, making sure he eats a well-balanced meal each and every day.

Maybe Keigo would calm down, maybe today could still be ok, maybe you could salvage the day and make it a good one.

But that was before the broadcast.

. . .

You were outside that day, watching as the sun showned on the ocean.

You wished silently that Keigo could have enough strength to come out and see it with you. Yet, you didn’t push him.

Keigo, on the other hand, was watching some TV. Well, "watch" was a strong word. Keigo’s eyes were far off again, You never asked him what he was thinking about, but you knew it had to be something but what happened.

As you watch the waves crash against the shore, and the sun slowly sets, that's when it happened.

The broadcast.

At first, the broadcast was only just a news reporter talking about how; “us as a society must look forward, through these dark times.” Talking about the loss of certain Hero’s and civilians alike.

but the segment right after that, that's what sent Hawks into his spiral.

“And now, what has happened to the pro hero known as Hawks? And I posed a question to all of our viewers out there, should he be forgiven? Can a man who ruthlessly killed someone, even a villain, be considered a hero?”

You weren't there when the news reporter posed the question, you were only there for the aftermath.

At first, Keigo was in shock, and then, his outburst happened.

It was the worst outburst since the accident. He was screaming, yelling, hitting anything, he just needed some way to get his anger out.

When you heard the commotion, you immediately ran inside, worried that something may have hurt him. But as you went inside, you realized that there was nothing wrong, at least not from what you could see. But to Keigo, everything was wrong.

When you came in, all you could hear was yelling, “What was it all for?! I just...I just wanted to help!”

You were stunted into silence, only being able to watch from afar.

It was like you couldn’t move, your body glued down to the floor, unable to help Keigo.

And then, he hit the TV, hard.

And that's when you finally spoke.

“Keigo stop!”

You rushed forward, grabbing his arm from hitting the wall.

You latched on to him, “Keigo please, please honey just calm-”

But it was too late, and before you knew what was happening, Keigo had thrown you on the ground.

You landed on your hands, cushioning your fall, but that didn’t mean it hurt.

For a moment, everything was still, everything was silent. Keigo wasn’t yelling, he wasn't screaming, and when you looked back up, the only thing you saw was true horror and guilt.

You panted lightly, your eyes blown wide as you stared back up at Keigo.

“...Y/N-”

What was he to say?

He didn’t know.

“K-Keigo,” you were at a complete loss for words.

After a few more minutes, you stood back up. You took one, shaky breath, before you spoke.

“Keigo, I’m sorry. I-I...I can’t do this right now. It’s just… this is all too much for me right now. I think I need to clear my head.”

You moved past him, not even looking him in the eye. How could you? Your mind was a mess, a thousand thoughts jumbled through your brain.

You opened the door quickly, taking your car keys before you left, refusing to look back.

----

The ocean waves looked stunning in the sunlight, it might have been the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

At least, you would have if the tears in your eyes weren’t blocking out your vision.

And your head wouldn’t stop spinning. Was Keigo ok? Should you go back? Could you even go back? What would you even say to him?

No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that leaving Keigo behind was for the best, that you two just needed to be away from each other, you felt like your heart was being slowly stabbed through with needles, one for every second away.

You sniffed, wiping away your tears with the back of your palm.

There had to be a way Keigo could get better, some way you could help. But every thought eluded you, how could you help someone so far gone?

You thought back to the doctor's suggestion of getting a therapist, maybe it was time. Keigo was getting too out of hand for you, and as much as you loved him, you knew that this was hurting him as much as you.

A sigh escaped your lips, why did this have to be so difficult?

And that thought came to you again.

Why couldn’t he just be himself again?

You shivered at your own selfish, hurtful thoughts. Keigo was still him, he just needed help, and thinking about how much you wanted the old him back wasn’t going to help him or you. And it wasn’t fair either, to expect that after what happened he would just be fine.

You knew you would always be there for him, but you supposed you didn’t think it would be this hard.

You placed your face in your hands.

How the hell could you help him? You felt as though Keigo was on the edge of a mountain, and you were the only thing he could grab onto, but now, he was pulling you down with him.

A small, shaky sigh escaped you.

Crunch, crunch.

Footsteps. Fast approaching, almost running.

You cocked your head up, preparing to be kicked off whoever's land that you were on (considering how you just decided to drive to the middle of nowhere).

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought that this was public-”

But you stopped mid-sentence.

There stood Keigo, tears streamed down his cheeks, his panting breaths and sweat glistening from his body must have meant he came all the way out here on foot.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could get a word in, Keigo had bent down to you.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, still in shock, “N-no.”

He sighed, but his face concentrated like he was thinking too hard, “I’m sorry.” and then, a long, silent pause, “I don’t...I don’t know what else to say.”

“...I don’t either,” you looked back up at him again. “You could have really hurt me, and I just don’t know how to deal with all this. I don’t know how to deal with...you.”

Keigo flinched, the implications of your words stung.

“It’s just...I want to be there for you, I really do, but it’s so hard,” you looked down tears threatening to escape, “I love you s-so much, b-but,” a silent hiccup went through you, “I don’t know how to help anymore.”

Keigo stayed silent, his words trapped under his tongue. He also didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to help himself too, but he knew deep down he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. But he hated what he was doing to you, he hated what he was making you go through.

“Keigo,” he looked back up at you, “Do you still love me?”

Keigo stared wide-eyed back to you, his words at a loss. “I- of course, I do Y/N-”

“Then why don’t you say it?”

He paused, “...What do you mean?”

You sighed, “Have you noticed that ever since what happened, you’ve not been able to say ‘I love you,' to me? Because I have. Each morning I wake up, and I always say, ‘good morning Kei, I love you,’ and you never say it back. It feels like I’m just invisible to you. I don’t want to look at you as something to fix, or as something to make me feel miserable, but I can’t live with someone who just sees me like a ghost.”

It took a while before Keigo finally responded.

“I don’t see you as a ghost,” he said, his voice as low as a whisper, “it’s that I see me as the ghost. I lost...I lost a big part of me in that fight.”

Subconsciously, he reaches back to his used-to-be wings, his fingers flinching when nothing is there.

“Keigo, you are not your wings.”

“How can you say that when everything I was...was built off of them?”

You leaned forward, a hand placed lightly on his cheek, “Your wings did not build our relationship, we did. And we still have each other. Your wings were never the reason I loved you, your wings were always just a part of you, they were never you.”

Keigo looked back at you, placing a hand on top of yours. After a few, dragged-out moments, Keigo leaned into you. But not before whispering lightly on your lips, “I do love you, Y/N.”

. . .

Things were hard, but they were better.

It had been three weeks since the accident that happened with you and Keigo. He agreed to go to a therapist, after what happened with you two, he wanted to get help.

What neither you nor he expected though, was for his therapist to also recommend you get help as well.

In his words; “After understanding the stress that Mr. Takami has gone through, as well the details that he has shared with me, I believe that it is necessary for you to also have some sort of mental treatment. Keigo was not in the right state of mind for a very long time, and you were the only person here to look after him. I believe you first need to talk about your problems separately and then move on to couples therapy. Some of the actions Mr. Takami has put you through may have had negative effects on your psyche.”

Although that was a shock to you, Keigo visibly became more saddened after that.

After the conversation with the therapist, Keigo even offered to move out of your shared room.

“If- if you’re uncomfortable with me being here, I can take the spare room.”

You only shook your head no, saying, “I’m not uncomfortable sleeping next to you, Kei, we’re in this together.”

And you were.

Keigo went to his therapist, as did you. At first, you weren’t sure, seeing as Keigo and you would see the same person and how that may make a conflict of interest, but he assured you that Keigo dealt with trauma relating to his fight, as did you of course, but your trauma and anxiety was more based upon him.

So, you made it work.

After a while of one-on-one counseling, you moved to couples therapy.

It was hard, mostly for Keigo, because he didn’t want to admit to himself, or you, that he had hurt you as much as he did.

So, you opened first.

You talked about how scared you were of losing Keigo, not just physically but mentally, how it hurt you that some days he wouldn’t talk to you. You even opened up about missing the old him.

It seemed like when you first opened your mouth, everything just came pouring out.

And so, after you explained your side, slowly, Keigo started to explain his.

He explained how he didn’t want to hurt you, but how he just couldn’t help himself in that moment. He felt like everyone was turning on him, abandoning him, he thought it was only a matter of time before you. And he couldn’t handle how that thought chased him, his mind just became so jumbled and uncertain.

But he wanted to get better, to show you the man you deserved.

Soon, you came to realize how your relationship would never be the same since that day, how you had lost a part of Keigo, and how Keigo had lost a part of himself. And that part, that part split you two, like a deep cut, and now you two had to sew it back together, and you both knew it would be hard.

Losing that part of your life took time, it took practice and understanding, it took watching Keigo wake up in a nightmare, watching as he screamed and all you could do was hush him and stroke his cheek softly as you told him how you were there, even as tears slipped down your cheeks as well.

But you let them, you let yourself show him that you were sharing the pain, that you were together in this.

Keigo was hurting, you knew that, but as your therapist told you; “You are grieving, grieving for that Keigo that died in that battle, and not only are you grieving, you are also trying your best to take care of someone who was already so broken that now they might as well be shards of the vase they once were.”

But that didn’t stop you from explaining how you felt selfish and terrible, how you felt like you were a bad person for feeling upset, for wanting Keigo to go back to you.

After each therapy session, you two would go out and sit on the porch, not doing or saying anything, because you both realized you had said plenty before.

. . .

After a year since then, things had gotten significantly better.

Keigo and you understood the inner workings of your relationship, not only that, you both understand each other a lot better. Understanding how you both needed one another, how you two could only grow to help each other.

Almost a year has passed since the incident with Dabi, a year since Keigo “lost” his wings.

But his wings were back, and he was back.

Although, maybe not fully.

Keigo was almost like a different vision of himself, a more, down to earth, real version of who he was.

Maybe, it was the person he always was, but just never could show it.

With you, he was the most caring he’s ever been.

Watching as you fell asleep in his arms, creasing your body oh-so-perfectly as he kissed you deeply, his sing-song praises in your ear. He loved you so much.

And you, you helped him grow as well. Being there for him, watching him, helping him.

You never left him, you carried out your promise to yourself, keeping him with you no matter what. You loved him so much, and you were so happy to see how he healed.

And here you both were, Watching as the sunset, as the ocean waves tied down, the sun Illuminating the water passing over.

You watched as Keigo’s eyes lit up in the bright light, his scar’s still reflecting the hard past that he's been through, and yet, reminding you how lucky you are.

At that moment you leaned in, giving him a light peck on his cheek.

Keigo turned to you, before laughing, “Why did you do that?"

"Because... I just realized how lucky I am to have you. Thank you, Keigo.”

"There's no need to thank me, dove," he said, kissing you as well "I'll always love you, and I always will be thankful that I have you as well."

[infinitewarden]

Osiris isn’t Savathun.

Great! Now that I have your attention:

Man you guys tire me out about Osiris. If you truly believe this is Osiris I don’t mean to sound like That Guy that’s like “you don’t know what you’re talking about” but... You don’t know what you’re talking about.

So.

Let’s talk about how much Osiris cares about the City and humanity and why the Osiris in Epilogue is not actually Osiris.

Alright. Let’s start off with context. I think it’s super important to see what we do know as Osiris’s views. From my heavy analyses of him since 2020 I can confidently say these are what he views as the most important things a person can do:

Keep promises

Speak their truths

Protect the City & Humanity

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

Now, I won’t be doing a breakdown of each one individually but I will be talking a great deal of how important honesty is to Osiris, the City, and his views of the Vex.

Speaking honestly and bluntly.

I don’t know how many of you were into Destiny before Beyond Light, so if you were unaware of this it’s not your fault. However I’ve seen a very strange change in tone when it comes to how people view Osiris. Before Season of Hunt people hated - and I mean hated - Osiris. Why? Because he was blunt. They viewed his bluntness as rudeness.

To see a sudden switch to him being secretive and scheming is... alarming, to say the least. (And to see people think that this is the norm is also alarming but in other ways.)

The Osiris before Hunt was not secretive and scheming. He sought knowledge openly. He sought, specifically, the truth. I must stress just how open he was about his plans. First I’ll give you a few in lore examples:

I admit, I found your questions divisive and disloyal, and I feared you might be capable of breaking our unity when the City's position had grown so tenuous. Why divert attention away from the Traveler, our only hope? And then it got worse, dabbling in thanatonautics, Ahamkara-lore, chasing after Xur and the tricks of the Nine. Launching expeditions into the Reef and beyond at a time when ships were irreplaceable. Your quest split Guardians along ideological lines. This was your greatest crime: Hunters chose to pursue your visions instead of protecting refugees, Titans assembled teams to chase the legendary Vault of Glass instead of striking the Fallen, and Warlocks turned away from the study of the Traveler in favor of  your  ultimate obsession... learning the exact nature of the Darkness. ... Perhaps what drives a Warlock to madness is truth.

Osiris.

"Do not romanticize this burden. We wield a weapon." The Speaker shakes his head. "The Light wields you, Osiris. You are what you make of it. A glorious extension of its majesty, in many directions." Osiris paces at cadence with his words. "Then it would do well to speak clearly. To better direct me." The Speaker cocks his head. "Without will? Then it would be no better than the Darkness." "I am asking only for guidance; it is a delicate game we are playing." Osiris's voice, distressed. Regal again, the Speaker motions to the stone garden. "Will you sit with me?"

13: Margins Part II.

And, while I don’t particularly like using the Fall of Osiris comic as a source, it does have very important lines on his viewpoints that I find relevant yet.

Fall of Osiris #1.

Hell he was open about his plans to fuck with time itself to bring Saint back.

Sagira narrowed her eye at the rogue Lightbearer and lowered herself to Osiris’s shoulder. “Why’s he here?” she asked quietly. “I asked him to consult on the engineering work,” Osiris replied, crossing his arms. “You sicko,” the other man declared, walking a circle around the Warlock, his eyes darting along every surface of the Sundial around them. ... “Just one more question, then. Why all the fuss?” “I owe him.” “I owe a lotta people, Warlock. You’re opening the gates of hell with a Vex key.” “When the Traveler brought me back, I had no friends. No family—” “No one had anything in the Dark Age.” “But Saint was always there. And I saw him grow from neophyte to demigod.”

The Sundial.

"You haven't left the Forest in years," Ikora said to Osiris, the only one to address him directly. "I need help," Osiris replied. "I know," Ikora responded, hands clasped behind her back. She stared intently at her former mentor. Back in her Crucible days, that uncompromising gaze was often the last thing her opponents saw. Aunor glanced sidelong at her superior. Harper coughed and looked down at his datapad. "Two years ago, Guardians entered the Infinite Forest," Osiris continued. "They aided me in defeating the Axis Mind Panoptes, preventing a Vex apocalypse from befalling this system. "In the process," he looked between each of them in turn, "Some Guardians reported a body they found in the Forest depths." Ikora sighed. "Saint-14 never came back from that last mission to Mercury. We finally knew why. I reacted to it the only way I knew how."

Desperate Times.

“I do not understand all of this code. This is Geppetto’s specialty,” Saint-14 says while standing bent over a wide desk covered in data tablets. Holographic images of the Lighthouse shimmer in the Hangar lights. “We could use the Crucible right now. Your trials. This will be very helpful. You mean to stay, yes?” “I will. Long enough to show you how to implement the simulation; but tonight, I must disembark,” Osiris says. “So soon?” Osiris tenses his jaw in forced silence. He twiddles with code. “I’m worried about what Vance found.” Saint places a heavy hand on Osiris’s chest. “Let go of your obsession. Do not leave chasing phantoms again.” “Phantoms… You think the Darkness is satisfied? This is just the first move. I need to know the next before it’s made.” “If there is something you fear, let me help you. We face this together.” Osiris’s mind drifts to the Dark anomalies. Saint doesn’t need another burden. “The safest place for you is the Tower, Saint. Time... tends to renege on its gifts.” “So, your mission is dangerous?” Osiris considers lying. “Potentially.”

Immolant I.

There are many more sources I could list on his bluntness and honesty but there’s honestly too much. What is important to extrapolate from all of it is this:

OSIRIS SPOKE THE TRUTH NO MATTER IF IT GOT HIM IN TROUBLE. IT IS ONE OF THE MAIN REASONS HE GOT EXILED.

Protecting the City & Humanity

Idk where people get the idea that he’s abandoned the City and humanity. And I don’t understand where people think it’s “typical Osiris behavior” to choose to put the City in danger.

I want to make something very clear here:

Osiris was exiled. He did not abandon the City. And though others view him as abandoning it, that wasn’t his intention. He never intentionally abandoned it. Everything he did was in pursuit of a brighter future for humanity. Let’s look at one of his lines from the Sundial activity during Dawn.

“By the time I left the City, many believed my practices to be sacrilege. But my methods have prevented countless futures not unlike the one you walk now. When it is laid out before you, would you not sacrifice anything to see this future shut?”

The Sundial.

He left because he weighed his options and he saw that humanity would have better use of him if he left. He cares A great deal about the City. He cares almost too much about it. He would never give Lakshmi the technology to cause it harm, especially knowing that she’s unstable. And I’ve seen some people think he’s playing 5D chess? In what world would he ever choose to bring harm upon humanity for some sort of... agenda; which I’ve already cleared up earlier, he’s open about his plans.

Let’s look at more known lore about Osiris’s feelings of the City & humanity.

"You've wrapped your mind around an idea of your own making. I have always tolerated this fawning 'movement' of yours, but this is a step too far." Osiris seethed. Brother Vance was awestruck. He stared blankly at Osiris, unsure of what he could say to quell his anger and dissolve his frustration. "What I have discovered…" "…is dangerous enough to destroy every man, woman, and child in existence. You're meddling with forces outside your grasp," Osiris reprimanded. "I warn you here and now, remove yourself from this Lighthouse. Find a simple life. Start a family. Write music. Leave Mercury and this fool's errand behind."

Chapter 8: Idolatry.

Osiris was furious to find out Vance was experimenting in his name by endangering people for his goals. And he was especially mad that he would dive into such dangerous areas so much so that it had the potential to destroy humanity.

"It's truth." Osiris considers this. "Truth seems subjective these days," Osiris says, finally observing his entourage for the first time. Among them, a small group of men and women, stand two wayward Guardians—Warlocks, it appears—and a child. Their forlorn faces resonate with him. Castaways and believers. The weeks since his departure from the Last City have worn on him. He was used to working alone, knowing he could fall back to the City's resources should he need them. Now, adrift in the expanse of purpose, he finds himself longing for a place he could return to. A sanctuary.

Chapter 2: Postexilic.

Here’s a few lines from Season of Dawn:

“The Traveler, mutilated. Mercury, a desolate warzone. This is the bleak future the Cabal wants for us all. We do not know what has become of humanity here. I hope we will not find out.”

.

“There are many terrible futures, but I have not grown numb to seeing them. The future the Cabal wish for is a nightmare for humanity.”

.

“If the Traveler fled the system, there is a chance that the Darkness would ignore our region of the galaxy entirely. It would sacrifice our second awakening, our ability to wield the Light, but potentially continue our Golden Age. There are too many variables at risk, but it's a variant path worth investigating in the Infinite Forest.”

.

“This battered Mercury is a blueprint for our system. Lightless, bowed, and nothing more than fuel for an endless war. It must never come to pass.”

The Sundial.

There are many. Many. More lines I could put here about how much Osiris doesn’t want to see humanity suffering. And especially how he doesn’t want the City to be at risk. But I think you get the picture.

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

So. We all know Osiris as “the Vex guy.” His whole thing is on fighting the Vex. However it seems people think that he’d be okay with using them for grounds of a higher purpose? Or something? I don’t know, everyone I see rebuffing Osiris’s actions with Lakshmi don’t seem to be interested in explaining this one.

So anyways. Let’s talk about how Osiris views the Vex as true evil compared to other species.

“The Fallen are not so different from us. How hard would you fight if the Light were taken from you?” “Those stories ring false to me,” said Saint. “They are not a noble people. I’ve fought them, and so have you.” “I have not fought them all,” the Warlock replied, pulling his hands apart to create an intricate web of hovering cubes and points of light. “They are nothing, no threat—not like the Vex. Not like the Darkness.”

Vanguard Commander.

[u.2:06] Have you spoken to the House of Light, like I asked? [u.1:07] I would rather not speak with Fallen. [u.2:07] They may need our help. Their cause is just. [u.1:08] What happened to “trust no one?” [u.2:08] What happened to your sense of right and wrong, hero?

Maintenance Operations Log 30037.

The unenlightened wonder at my so-called "fixation" upon the Vex. They believe our gravest existential threat is the Hive, for those beings have made a pact with the Darkness itself via the medium of the Worm Gods (according to Toland, at least, and I see no reason to doubt him in this). But Darkness is not merely absence of Light. Darkness is an entity unto itself. Put simply, Darkness is not Nothing. But the Vex? The Vex seek neither Light nor Darkness. They seek Convergence, the reduction of all life to its simplest, most meaningless form. An entelechy of zeros and ones. "Evil" is a word for sentimentalists and fools. But, in the ontology of the sentimental, the Vex are more deserving of the term than the Hive. Given a choice between Darkness and Convergence, I would choose Darkness. It is a logical choice. Yet for this they banish me.

Kairos Function (Hunter).

This one is important because Osiris doesn’t subscribe to the idea of “good” and “evil”, and that he would go so far to say that the Vex are Evil shows just how much of a threat he views them as.

It’s just. Mind boggling to me that people think that Osiris would be okay with a Vex invasion. That Osiris would encourage Lakshmi to open up a rift to “send the Fallen away” (Despite being one of the earliest sympathizers!) Osiris isn’t ineffable, he’s just a man trying to do his best to help humanity. His actions aren’t difficult to understand, they have been written to be very clear and with understanding his motives.

Saying that it’s natural for him to be secretive and have contradicting opinions and actions is just. Wrong. It’s not him. It’s not how he’s supposed to be understood. Even in Curse of Osiris I don’t think his actions didn’t make any sense.

This is going to sound very mean but I want to be 100% clear: If you think that Osiris would actively choose to put the City in danger of the Vex, if you think that he would actively choose to stand calmly and watch as his lover was about to die to the very things he spent millions of lives to save... You don’t understand Osiris. Go back and reread his lore.

I leave you with this:

The Vanguard is dubious of our intent and ability, fearing corruption and displacement. They do not trust me. You were held in similar contempt for speaking your truth and empowering free thought. You know what it feels like to be chastised and labeled a traitor. We are mere steps away from a disintegration of our institutions, and they cannot see destruction staring them in the face. ... For so long, we have clung to the Light, denying the strength offered by the Dark. By using Stasis, we will end this war. We see this contest for what it truly is: a game, played by our adversaries. And we have been the pawns. We are pawns no more. This is not a battle I want to wage without you, although we may not have a choice in the matter. Wherever you may be, please come back to us.

To Osiris.

[lyallblacklupin]

It’s just Remus Lupin! (part 2)

The sun had risen and Sirius felt someone sitting on his bed. His neck was aching following with throbbing in his temples. He was struggling to open his heavy eyelid until he heard voices.

“Why don’t you talk to him right now after he wakes up?” That was James’ voice.

“No way! And after what he had told me? And now I have totally made everything awkward between us. I’m so stupid, Prongs!” Remus’ voice sounded so new, squeaky and very much worried.

“Yeah, there is no doubt. You are the mother of stupidity. But look at his face. He must’ve cried all the night. So peaky! He needs breakfast before he faints.”

Typical Potter, the mother-hen of the group.

“I’ve never seen him crying like last night.” Remus whispered.

Sirius’ heartbeat quickened as he felt a very familiar hand brushing against his. Remus’ warmth was all he yearned for. Then after a while, Sirius finally opened his eyes to see three heads hovering on him. James, Peter and Remus were gawking at him as if he were some sort of new creature they had discovered.

“How are you?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, I’m great.” Sirius struggled to sit up, propping on his elbows. He felt so tired.

“Well, do you wanna talk about it?” James asked, gesturing to the crumpled ball of parchment at his nightstand. Sirius distinctly recalled throwing it on the floor. Someone of the three had read it and put it back in its previous form. He nervously glanced at Remus who was looking at the floor, deeply engrossed in his thoughts. He felt a surge of unjust anger for him.

“Not really...” He answered.

“You know we are here for you.” James insisted.

“I know, Prongs, you are.” He didn’t expect himself to come out too bitterly, which made everyone in the room uncomfortable.

“Me too, Pads, and Moony here” Peter started but Remus interrupted.

“Wormy, what Sirius really need is breakfast so...”

“How do you know what I need?” Sirius suddenly snapped. He was hating how Remus was being this figure who tells people what they should be, or do, but then he was regretting his tone when he saw Remus wearing pained expressions, while James and Peter were becoming tensed. “Aye, you know what, just leave me alone. I don’t need breakfast.” Sirius said dejectedly, “its weekend and I would really wanna have myself for a while...”

Everybody sauntered towards the door and Sirius buried his head in his hands. He didn’t want to be a burden to his friends. They were his only family. No matter how awkward Peter could be, no matter how painfully lovely Remus could be or how irritatingly caring James could be, They were all a very essential part of his life, something he could not afford to lose. And now he was gradually losing one by one. Remus was lost, James was halfway there because telling him that he was gay would be disgusting enough for him and Peter to leave.

The door clicked shut but Sirius realized that he was not alone yet. He lifted his head up to see James Potter standing against the doorframe, smiling weakly at him.

“I’m not leaving you alone after you’ve cried literally like a baby, Padfoot. A legit baby.” He walked towards Sirius who let out a chuckle. “Padfoot?”

“Yeah?” Sirius looked into his hazel eyes, staring at him very intently.

“Moony told me.”

Sirius felt his entire body went numb.

“And...Sirius....”

Why are you gay? What is the matter with you? I can’t be friends with you anymore!

“...Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sirius jerked up his head with wide eyes and mouth. What?

“What?”

“I mean-I thought we share everything...is there something that I did to make you uncomfortable or-“

“James...no...You can never do something wrong...” He was at a loss of words. He didn’t expect this response. “You don’t disgust me?”

“Why? Did you pick your nose and eat it?”

“Ew! No Prongs!” Sirius scrunched his nose halfheartedly while a smile desperately wanting to settle on his lips. James was being James Fucking Potter, his supportive non-biological brother and a caring prat.

“Then, there’s no reason for me to disgust you, Sirius.” James gazed him earnestly.  He felt tears stinging in his eyes.

“Wha-Padfoot!?” James exclaimed at the sight of Sirius whose face was crumpled and was practically weeping silently. “Look at that! A baby! Legit baby!” James crawled on Sirius’ side and wrapped his arms around him, cackling affectionately.

They finally came down to grab buttered toasts from the kitchen as they ran to their first lesson of the day. The time crawled down like as if it were a turtle. Sirius wanted to bang his head against the nearby wall because it was becoming unbearable to be in the same class where Remus Lupin was. It was quite a hard truth to digest and that was Remus and Sirius becoming distant. They used to be glued against each other, and Sirius used to enjoy that one-sided intimacy, but now they were miles away from each other and Sirius was touch-starved. Well actually, this was Remus’ touch starvation.

“I think I’m gonna be sick!” He rested his head against the wall by the Great Hall entrance as he and James were waiting for the rest of the Marauders to gather for lunch.

“Hey! Snap out of it!” James blurted out, “Don’t let your emotions have power over you-“

“That’s what Moony said.”

“Then listen to him, for his sake! I know you’re falling for him and you think that he didn’t return the feelings—“

“I think?” Sirius glared at him, “He clearly rejected me!”

“He didn’t reject you! He is just being Moony! You know how he is, always self-deprecating, and not to mention, being affirmative that he doesn’t deserve anything good. That’s why he asked you if you were sure. I mean, I’m not defending him because of course, you are not supposed to say that when someone tells you that they love you, but Pads, I don’t think he is entirely unreasonable here. You have messed around with a lot of girls while he never got one. He is conflicted between being worthy enough to be with you, and making sure he doesn’t get a heart break from you of all people. All that matters to him, is your friendship. He is not judging you, he just doesn’t trust himself.”

Sirius knew that each and every word of James was right. It was a little hurting but true. He didn’t know what to say so he remained silent. He clearly had a bad reputation of having two-days relationships so, of course, Moony was doubting him reasonably.

Peter and Remus had joined the two of them and now the four of them were eating shepherd’s pie in their lunch. Sirius suddenly lost his appetite when his eyes found Remus, sitting between Peter and Frank, playing with his food while staring into nothingness. His heart clenched to see him like this. Remus’ eyes searched to find Sirius’ which were already staring back. Sirius quickly looked away.

There were these mixed feelings surrounding Sirius’ mind. He didn’t want NOT to be around Remus but every time he looked at those sad amber eyes, he wanted to kiss the pain away but then he was reminded that he had confessed and failed. Remus didn’t even come to him to clarify. If he really felt the same, he could’ve cornered Sirius to communicate.

The Marauders spent the rest of the day mostly in the library for the completion of Transfiguration Essay that was supposed to be 3 foot long, and Slughorn had given them homework to write the functions and ingredients of Felix Felicis potion for the gain of extra credit.

James was scribbling lazily on the top of his journal, it was distinct to see that he was drawing a snitch of L.E written on it. While Peter was drooling over the girl two tables away from them, and Sirius was casting quick glances at Remus who was so engrossed in reading a book with no title. It seemed to be a vintage journal and he had his eyes locked with it as though no power on earth can lift up his attention.

“Mooooony...I’m tired...” James spoke but Sirius knew that Remus wasn’t going to respond until his book is finished.

It was already evening and they hadn’t found any opportunity to be alone. Apparently, Remus hadn’t sought a chance to get Sirius alone because he had done his part but clearly Remus was not trying.

Sirius snapped his hand on the table and stormed out of the library, ignoring the glare from Madam Pince. He sprinted to the Gryffindor Tower and found the common room empty. He sat there alone with his thoughts.

He knew that Remus never dated anyone because of his furry little problem, while Sirius did date a lot including Marlene McKinnon before she realized that she was falling for Dorcas Meadows. Sirius had helped her without feeling bad for being dumped on the Yule Ball as her date. After when Remus had known that Sirius had no one to dance with, he led Sirius in the empty common room and waltzed around on Never Let me Go by Judy Bridgewater.

“So you’d rather dance with a person who is moping that he got dumped on the ball, than with the most beautiful woman on the earth.” Sirius had asked him.

“Padfoot, you are the most beautiful woman on the earth.” Remus had replied him which had made both of them laugh manically, stumbling over each other.

And then he had known that he would never let this man go from his life. Since that beautiful night filled with laughter and lot of dancing alone and drinking, Sirius had never stopped looking at Remus so longingly.

He sighed as the Gryffindor students flooded in the common room, back from the feast. Before he could be seen by his friends, he climbed up to his dormitory. He shut the door behind him and sunk into his bed.

The door swung open, and Shit! Sirius didn’t shut his curtains. He didn’t need to turn to look who came in because it was quite a decent and silent walk of someone, rather than being noisy like James and Peter.

“Hey.” Remus’ voice was as calm and pure as his soul.

“Hi.” He still had his back to Remus and was staring at the window.

“What? Now we won’t talk to each other?” The same sweet voice spoke rather sadly. Sirius reluctantly turned to face him because he couldn’t hurt him.

“Uh... no it’s not like that. Uh, how are you?”

Remus opened his mouth and then shut it quickly, narrowing his eyes, becoming very interested in the floor, as though calculating his words.

“I...” He glanced at Sirius’ eyes, “I’m sorry, Padfoot-“

Sirius felt his stomach twist.

“Look, Remus, you don’t have to apologize-“

“But I do! For-“

“Remus, it’s okay! Please!” Sirius didn’t realize he had shouted those words until he saw Remus’ distraught eyes, glistening with tears in it. “I mean, I shouldn’t expect anything from you, and to be honest I didn’t but it just hurts! We can forget about all of it and go back being friends because-“

“Would you be able to do that?” Remus’ voice was shaky, and Sirius felt a shiver ran down his spine. “You know what, I don’t regret for what I was sorry for earlier. For asking you if you were sure about what you said to me last night.”

What?

“What did you say to me?” Sirius had to pull himself from punching Remus’ beautiful face because Fuck you, Remus Lupin! You are the best cruel person in the world!

“You heard me! Sounds like you don’t love me enough just like I doubted! Because if you did you wouldn’t  be a coward to walk away from my life so easily! Would be that easy for you to forget everything!?”

A MILLION TIMES HARDER!! The word ‘easy’ was no near to this situation Sirius was dealing with. However, as much as he was taken aback by the challenging voice of the other boy, he knew deep down inside his heart that he was, again, reasonable.

He also wanted to retaliate but what came out from Sirius’ mouth was a whimper, and before he knew it he was sobbing on the floor.

Remus was immediately holding him by his torso from his behind, but a little more intimately, Sirius could tell.

“Don’t walk away, I can’t imagine my life without you.” Remus nuzzled his face in Sirius’ hair and continued whispering in his ear, “Please don’t become a stranger before hearing everything. I am going to keep my promise. I promised you I’d help you, I will, Sirius, I will.” Sirius felt a light brush of lips on his temple and it made him want to cry more, but in less pain.

Sirius turned to face Remus who looked so sad, yet radiant than the last time he saw him. It was something about him that made him look prettier every new second to Sirius.

“Do you really love me? Me?” Remus came closer to him, almost sitting on his lap.

Sirius’ heart broke a little at the tone. Why that was even a question? Doesn’t he deserve to be loved? There is no doubt in loving my Moony. He is the loveliest person in my life!

He leaned closer to him and stopped when he was an inch away. Remus was burning scarlet and it seemed that he had held his breath. Sirius was gazing into him very closely, examining every scar on his face. He touched the one on the bridge of his nose and he felt the other boy shivered. Remus was not moving anywhere farther, neither coming closer. Sirius was lost in the strange beauty of him. He was tracing every feature of him and it was becoming difficult to breathe in the heat of the moment.

“With every inch of my heart.”

But Remus shook his head, tears spilling from the brims as he whimpered, “I don’t deserve it.”

And it broke Sirius’ heart into million pieces. He held his wet face in the cup of his hands.

“It’s not true, Moony-oh Moony…”

Sirius embraced him and Remus slumped into his arms. He sincerely loved him. Loved every inch of him. He had waited for so long. Remus’ heart was beating furiously that Sirius could tell by the thudding in his ears. Remus broke into a sweet chortle between his tears and sniffing, and he looked adorable.

“I especially don’t deserve the love of my favorite person in the world.”

“Hope you are talking about me?” Sirius still had him in his arms, his head resting on his shoulders.

Sirius was anxious for Remus’ response, but he also wanted to be patient this time. He was not going to presume the situation wrongly this time.

To Sirius’ surprise, Remus was unstoppably weeping and he knew that those were happy tears because he was laughing merrily and struggling to stop the river streaming from his eyes. Sirius’ right hand were completely damp as it was still there, holding his jaws and his thumb was tracing his cheek while his fingers travelling to nape from his ear, back and forth.

Remus finally spoke, “I’m sorry for this unexpected...pool of tears...”

But Sirius wiped his tears, shaking his head to gesture that he didn’t mind.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“I do love you, too.” Remus’ breath was hot against his neck.

“Moony, you don’t have to-“

“No, you won’t interrupt me, Sirius Black, because I’m not letting us get ruined by your stupid pessimism!”

Sirius tried to hide his grin because there was the Remus Lupin he loved; the one who made him silent and flustered. He led him to the most corner of their dorm by window and they both sat on their wooden floor. The room was dark but the moonlight emitted faintly.

“You don’t know…” Remus murmured in a despaired voice.

He could sense that Remus was struggling with expressing his feelings. Sirius had known Remus from ages and he was familiar with that some nasty emotions laid beneath the deadpanned face. For instance, if there was rage sweeping inside of Remus, it would be hard to figure out what was going behind that serene face. And Sirius would be damned if he didn’t give him a chance to relax and explain his heart out. He squeezed Remus’ hand and smiled encouragingly.

“Hey, I’m here. I’ve got all night for you. Tell me everything, everything that is in your mind. I’ll listen to you this time and stop being prick like before.”

Remus exhaled a sigh of relief, easing his shoulders.

“I had been there. Just like you, when I was struggling through it since third year. And I knew the night you were there for me on my worst full moon. I never told any of you about that. On that night my full moon was worse because the three of you knew about me and i feared that one of you might let slip of my condition to anyone in the school. That fear worsened my condition. But after my transformation I found you outside the Whomping Willow, you were there for me even rather than being disgusted with me-“

Sirius opened his mouth to protest but Remus held his hand up to let him finish what he wanted to say.

“Pads, you didn’t hesitate to see me in blood and wounds. You cured me even you hardly knew any healing spells.” Remus chuckled and Sirius blushed.

“Every full moon, you held me. The comfort always came with you when I was resting in your arms but it was not same when James held me. I didn’t want to be rude but one day I was this close to tell James off and bring you instead!

“I convinced myself in the fourth year that they were just desperate stupid desires for having someone’s attention because you and I have had this bond, you know...but now I have this urge to be around you to just know if you’re doing fine. Every summer, none of my night went by not thinking about you, worrying about you for how your family was treating you. I can’t see your sad eyes.” He paused to look down at Sirius’ hand and then added, “Sirius, I’m weak. Much vulnerable as a lycanthrope, but if you’ll have me, I’ll always protect you.

Sirius thought he had never felt such fathomless influx of love for someone until now, and it was like his heart was singing Remus like a mantra.

“I never thought you’d like me in that way. And yesterday night in the common room you told me that you were falling in love with me, I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought it was universe playing tricks on me-and I just couldn’t say the right words, Sirius. I’m sorry I made you feel that I rejected you. God, I can never reject you.”

Sirius stared him so tranquilly, a smile lingering on his face. He stayed quiet for Remus to let out every single thing from his heart. This was a new Remus Lupin he was looking at. Someone, who never displayed his emotions, was now pouring his heart out to him. Sirius was starting to feel special.

After a brief silence and gazing into each other’s eyes, Remus stood, propping up on his knees and leaned towards Sirius, holding his face in his hands. Sirius thought, he was going to melt into a puddle.

“And tonight, in this very moment, I wholeheartedly confess that I’ve been in love with you and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Sirius thought that his heart would burst and before he could’ve processed those words and depict his next move, Remus had pressed his lips against his into a very passionate kiss that almost took him by surprise. He snaked his arms up to Remus ribcage, reaching to grasp his shoulders as he sunk into the kiss. It was like being intoxicated under those lips which were soft like silk.

They broke apart a little to catch their breaths.

“Merlin, I just kissed Remus Lupin.”

They suddenly laughed into each other’s mouths, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yeah, just Remus Lupin.” Remus smiled weakly at him and Sirius sprang on his feet, holding out his hand.

“Come here.” And Remus did. He seized his hand and they stood before each other. “Listen to me, before you let out that trash talk, you are not what you think you are. You are so much more than that. You have a very good heart inside that chest. I fell in love with that heart right there.” He poked his index finger on his chest where his heart thumped steadily. “You understand? And besides, you’re my Moony. Mine. I’ll always be there for you. I love taking care of you, it’s my favorite hobby.”

Sirius saw Remus blushing and smiling at the same time as he was looking down, and Sirius seized him by his arms and leaned to kiss him on his eyelid.

“I love you, Sirius Black.” Remus whispered.

“Seriously, Moony, I thought you had better taste in men.”

And in return he got a kick in his shin, which led to hitting each other, laughing and running in the dormitory. One chasing after other until they fell on the bed against each other, panting and kissing as if their life depended on it.

“I love you too, Moony, So much.” Sirius held him earnestly as he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of Remus lying on his body.

Yep, just this beautiful boy on my chest, listening to my heartbeat like a simp! Just Remus Lupin, just the boy I love.

Part 1.

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 2: falling

Chapter Summary: The morning after the reveal of Emily’s death and a conversation with Spencer.

Contains: mentions of cat-calling and panic attacks, light kissing, grief and mourning.

Word Count: 2.4k 

Comments: this fic is my new baby and i will nurture it to its end. this is gonna end up being a long story and emily won't reappear for at least another 25k so there's that! also look i gave a little flashback to their relationship! in case i didn't elaborate enough, spencer and reader are quite close and have known each other since elle left which ill get into in another chapter! so that's why she has some of his clothes and why he's so close to her and latching onto her. reader is going through it rn but she's shoving it aside which isn't healthy and not good in the long run so she'll have to adress it eventually but that's not now! she's kinda numb rn and trying to keep it together for spencer which is going... as well as one would expect.

i think my favorite line in this was "The song ends but the moment doesn’t." and "But all moments have to come to an end."next chapter, we'll be getting the rest of the bau team (yay!) and emily's funeral (💔)! reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! i love hearing feedback even if it’s something small!

also i’m gonna do a taglist for this fic so if you’d like to be added, send me an ask with the username you’d like to be tagged with!

masterlist | read on ao3

What am I now? What am I now?

What if I'm someone I don't want around?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

What if I'm down?

What if I'm out?

What if I'm someone you won't talk about?

I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling

- Harry Styles, "Falling"

When the morning comes, you wake up first on your couch and feel a crick in your neck. The night’s memories rush back to your mind and you immediately feel nauseous. You manage to very carefully separate yourself from Spencer and manage to make it to the restroom in time to vomit.

It’s awful.

You don’t even know why it’s still hitting you so hard when Spencer is the one that should be feeling like this. He’s the one that’s known her for years and you were nothing but a fling for her.

You don’t glance at yourself when you exit your bathroom, already knowing the state you’re in. When you enter your living room, Spencer is still out so you decide to do the next best thing you can for him.

You’re thankful that you already have some leftover ground coffee beans from the day before because you really don’t want to wake him up before you can put a cup of coffee in his hands.  Going through the motions of making coffee and then a simple breakfast is calming.

You’re unsure if Spencer will be able to stomach anything if he’s anything like you are now so you make the lightest meal you can. When the coffee machine beeps, you grab two mugs and begin making the coffee the way he likes.

It’s as you’re making your own coffee that you’re interrupted by Spencer calling out your name. You turn around and find him rubbing his eyes and looking a bit better than when he first came in.

“Hey, Spence. I have some coffee if you want some,” you grab his mug at his nod and place it in his trembling hands, “it’s just how you like. Ninety percent sugar and cream and ten percent actual coffee.” A small smile crept onto his face at your joke and you’re glad you’ve managed to make him smile even if it’s just a little bit.

He sips on his coffee and you decide to plate the food that’s still warm onto your dining table. He follows and takes the seat across from you, mumbling his thanks. You both eat in silence for there are no words or fun quips to share with Emily gone.

Spencer is the first to break the silence. “Thank you… Thank you for last night. I couldn’t stay with my team after that. It was just too personal. I know I’ve mentioned it before but I’m the youngest of the team and though they mean well, they tend to baby me. I… I couldn’t handle it so I left them.” He pauses, fingertips tapping in a familiar tune on the ceramic mug, “I didn’t want to be alone and you’re the first person I thought of. I know you know… knew Emily and that you would just be there for me so thank you.”

He looks directly into your eyes as he says this and you know how serious this must mean for him so you reach out for his hand, which he extends for you, and squeeze it in your own. You have to articulate your response properly because you don’t want to scare him off by saying the wrong thing.

Maintaining eye contact, you speak, “I’m glad I was able to be there for you, Spencer. To be the first person you came to means a lot to me. I hope you know I’ll always be there for you, for the small and the big things. While I may not be as close… While I may not have been as close to Emily as you were, I will still grieve for her. Just knowing how much she meant to you is enough for me to know how much a beautiful person she was. From the little glimpses I’ve seen of her and the tidbits you’ve told me over the years, I know this is going to be one of the hardest things for you… and if you let me, I’d like to be there for you.”

He’s like an open book after you’ve told him your resolve, like the book you’ve reread more times you can count and the original copy has been worn down due with some of the passages long gone but memorized in your heart. His eyes are watering again and he’s out of his seat faster than you can comprehend and he lifts you up and his arms wrap around you tightly, as if you’re his lifeline.

He whispers words of gratitude into the crown of your head and you hold him back just as tightly, tears springing to your eyes. You’d do anything to take his pain away and if this is all you can do then you’ll do it willingly.

“I want you here,” his voice is low and wrecked, “I.. I don’t want to be alone. Please. Please don’t leave me. Everyone leaves, Please…”

You look up to him and grab his face gently in your hands, wiping the tears from his cheek as you say, “I’m not leaving, Spencer. I’m right here. I’m here for you always. I promise not to leave you. I’m with you. I’m here.” At this, he looks even more broken and only nods his head, breath hitching and his sobs ceasing for the moment. You know it’s not enough for him so you guide one of  his hands to the pulse on your wrist.

“Count.” And he does, his mind focuses on the beat and it calms him; it reassures him you’re still alive.

When the minute is over, he looks significantly more calm and less likely to cry again. He looks at you like he can’t believe you’re really there and you pull him in again. Physical contact is meant to ground people and you only hope this helps him.

A shrill ring interrupts your thoughts and you know it’s Spencer’s because you’ve heard it many times before from him and Emily both.

He lets go of you to answer it and he tenses immediately as he hears whoever it is on the other line. He says a few things in response and his eyes become glassy again. He hangs up only a few moments later and turns to you.

“My team wants me to help inform Emily’s mother of her death so we can start planning her funeral…” He closes his eyes shut and his fingers clench into his palms. Slowly, you walk up to him and unfold his palms and find red, crescent indents on his palms.

“I can drive you…? I know you took the metro here. Let me help, Spencer.” He just nods and you lead him to the bathroom to help tidy him up. You turn the faucet on and hand him his toothbrush, your fingers lingering on Emily’s red one before grabbing your own. It’s a familiar routine and as you finish, you leave to let him use the restroom and wash up while you rack through your closet to find something he's left over to wear for the day.

You manage to find a striped brown button up and matching brown pants while you put on a simple outfit, a grey long sleeve with jeans and a pair of black vans. You knock on the door and he opens it after a moment and takes his clothes from you. You go back to your room to fix up your hair and after a while you deem it acceptable.

As you’re doing your makeup routine, you hear a knock then, “Are you decent?”

“Come in, I’m almost done.” The door opens and you catch his reflection in your mirror. He looks better but the despair that clings to him is obvious to you.

He lets a small smile fill his face and though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you still match it. “I’m surprised you still had this. I had wondered where this outfit had gone but I remember that when I stayed over that night I had to leave immediately and left it here.”

“Well, I wouldn’t just throw it away and I kept forgetting to give it back to you. It’s a good thing otherwise you’d be left in some sweatpants and a Star Trek t-shirt.” He lets out a small laugh at that and you’re grateful you’re able to get him to genuinely laugh.

“Okay, I’m done. We can head out now.” He follows you out of your apartment and into the passenger seat of your car. The ride is silent to Quantico, unlike the usual rides you give him where you play a new genre for him and for him to compare it to his classical music and talk about some facts of the music.

When you finally arrive, you both sit there. He doesn’t want to leave and face reality and you don’t want to be left alone with only the truth to haunt you.

Spencer breaks the silence once again, “Thank you for everything. I don’t know where I would’ve gone last night… If you can, can you pick me up later? I… I can’t be with the team right now. It’s just too fresh.”

“Of course, Spencer. Just send me a text a bit before and I’ll be there.” He nods and gives you a quick hug before leaving and your eyes follow him until he’s nothing but a pinprick in your vision.

Like a switch flipped, you can only think of Emily. It’s not fair that she… that Emily is gone, that’s she’s dead. You never thought this was a probability. She was always such an impervious figure in your mind, a larger than life kind of person. You knew it was a possibility in her line of work but it never crossed your mind that it could actually happen to her. She was a strong woman, never letting anything affect her and you can’t believe she’s gone.

You shouldn’t even feel this strongly for her, you’re not meant to be more than a friend to her but you can’t help but think of her as your lover. Every little moment you’ve shared with her flashes in your mind. One in particular stands out, one that had happened only a month or two ago.

“Ugh, Emily. We’ve gotta go or else tomorrow morning is gonna be hell for the both of us.” You drag her away from the bar and shoot a smile at the bartender who only shakes her head and mouths “have a nice night”.

“ No ,” she whines, “I don’t want to, babe. We were having so much fun. Let’s stay here and dance some more.” She grins at you, taking your hand and pulling you back into the crowd. You let her because you can never say no to her, not when she’s looking at you with those eyes and that smile.

Her mood is infectious and you let her have this one last dance. It’s not even a song you know but you think it might be your new favorite with the way she twirls you around and looks at you with affection and fondness.

Being with Emily is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, even if this is a temporary thing. You would do anything for her, even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.

The song ends but the moment doesn’t.

“Okay, okay, Em. We really need to go now.” She pouts at you but relents and follows you out of the club.

Before you reach your car, she pulls you in, her hands cradling your face, and she’s looking at you in wonder, “Y’know I can’t believe you’re actually here. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You mean so much to me. I hope you know that.” She leans in and kisses you. You savor every moment of it, feeling her smile against your lips. Like an imp, she grins widely and leaves multiple pecks around your lips, never quite touching.

It’s just you and her in that moment and she’s never seemed more lovely than in that exact moment.

Deciding that her actions are enough, you grab her by the chin and your free arm wraps around her waist so that she’s flush against you and slam your lips onto her own. Every emotion you’ve felt for her is poured into the kiss and you hope she can feel it. It’s passionate and messy and it leaves you wanting more.

She lets out a small moan when you move your mouth to pepper kisses onto her jaw and to suck on her sweet spot, sighing praises into her skin as if they’ll imprint on her, an irrefutable claim.

You’re not sure how much time passes between that moment but you only stop when you hear multiple wolf whistles and she groans before pulling away from you and yells at the offenders, “Shows’ over, you fucks!” Then she turns to you and leers, “We’ll finish this back at my place.”

You’re only able to nod and look at her in awe,  “Emily Prentiss… what a woman you are. I’ll never be able to forget you know?”

She smiles even wider at your admission, and beckons you forward and of course you come closer and she admits quietly, “You won’t ever have the chance to. I plan on never letting you go.”

But all moments have to come to an end.

If only that was the truth because she never brought up the conversation the morning after. Whether she actually remembered it and shoved it aside or she genuinely couldn’t remember, you can’t decide what’s worse. You never mention it because you don’t want to ruin something that already works and now… Now you would never have the chance to find out because Emily was dead.

Tears well up in your eyes and you recognize the signs of an oncoming panic attack. It’s with a wet laugh that you realize that you were right, your dramatic thoughts from the night she texted you had come true.

Emily Prentiss would haunt you forever and you’ll let her if it means you’ll never forget what she sounded like or what each gleam in her eye or each smile meant.

[smolkooks]

how long, pt ii - j.jungkook

pairings: reader x jungkook, established relationship!au, non idol!au

word count: 1.6K

content and warnings: angst, low-key couple fight, breakup, mentions of cheating, heartbreak, mild cursing

summary: your nonchalance broke him more than anger ever could.

(note: please do not plagiarise my work! all character/idol representations are purely fictional! this is part two of ‘how long’...part i is linked here. sorry this took so long...hope you guys like it though <3)

my masterlist

***

You weren’t sure when you last saw Jungkook in the apartment.

It was odd; neither of you wanted to confront the conflict and so it had faded away into the background of your daily lives once more.

You spent hours curled up in bed before you fell asleep, crying—the only time you allowed yourself to think about him. It was stupid that you refused to talk to him—that he refused to talk to you—and you knew that. The relationship you’d once had was but an aching pain in your chest now, and you wondered if he felt the same, wherever he was going every night now.

Foolishly, you hoped that it wasn’t the other girl’s house, even though you knew it was the only other place he could go. His family was in Busan, his old friends had moved out of Seoul—the only other place he could go was hers.

Even your coworkers seemed to notice your drab mood which only seemed to deteriorate each day. As somebody who’d always been known to be the cheerful one in the office, it was odd to not be excited about things you’d once looked forward to.

Heartbreak worked in strange ways, you supposed.

The initial numbness wore off within a few days and it turned to a throbbing in your chest; a strange emptiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. Jungkook had always been by your side whenever you felt upset, and you hadn’t ever imagined that he’d become the causeof your pain rather than the one holding your hand through it.

You spent so much time alone now in your apartment that it gave you time to think about what you wanted to do next. You knew that you weren’t willing to forgive Jungkook—especially since he was so adamant on not apologising and facing you, given that he’d managed to avoid you for a whole week despite living at the same place. If you didn’t want to stay with him, then you’d have to find a new place, too, since this was his apartment…                                              

It must’ve been nine days after not seeing Jungkook that your phone lit up with a familiar name while you were having dinner after work, alone at the kitchen bench. The notification sound broke you out of your train of thought and you mindlessly glanced at the lit-up screen, only to straighten when you saw hisname. His contact name was still labeled as boyfriend with a pink heart emoji, and something inside of your chest twisted strangely. The pain was far duller than it’d been just a few days ago, almost as if it was distant. Like rather than being a thunderstorm, it was a passing raincloud in the town down the road.

hey, can we talk?

You heaved a sigh and turned your phone screen down, leaving his message without a response. You had been able to find another apartment you’d be able to afford—one close to your workplace and the centre of the city, but you would only be able to move into it next week. Maybe you should hear him out…at the very least.

And so, with another deep sigh, you took another bite of your food and then picked up your phone, typing out your response: yeah. i’m home.

His reply came almost instantly: okay

You turned your phone off and slipped it into your pocket, your stomach clenching in sudden nervousness. How would you even look at him now, knowing that he’d probably been with the other girl for a whole nine days without a single call or text to you?

You must have been lost in thought for far longer than you thought, because it was the rattle at the door and the huff of his jacket sleeves as he slipped it off and hung it onto the rack that finally snapped you out of your own head.

He didn’t say anything, and you heard his footsteps softly pad towards the kitchen wordlessly. Suddenly you weren’t sure where to look, and instead of looking at him as he approached you (you knew he was, you caught sight of his curly black hair in your peripheral), you fixed your gaze on your food, composing yourself.

You felt a tentative hand on your shoulder, and you finally looked up at him.

He looked like he always did. Your pretty koo, your rock, your best friend. His hair was undone from its usual tiny ponytail and his eyes were slightly lined with dark shadows, as if he hadn’t slept last night.

“Y/N,” He finally said, taking his hand off your shoulder and putting it back at his side.

You didn’t say anything. Just swallowed, waiting for him to sit. When he finally did, you responded, “Yes?”

He gulped, biting his lip nervously, “I…I mean…are you okay?”

“I’ve been doing fine,” You said shortly.

“That’s good.”

You didn’t reply; only returned your gaze back to your now-cold food, the silent as heavy as ever.

“I…I didn’t want to hurt you.”

When you didn’t say anything, he pushed ahead, “I love you more than anyone else, and I didn’t mean for you to find out in this way.”

You scoffed without glancing up, “You didn’t mean for me to find out at all. How long were you going to string me along for, Jungkook?”

“I wasn’t going to—,”

“You did,” You cut him off, finally glaring up at him coldly, “Were you going to make me be your fucking housewife, sitting home by myself, mopping your fucking floors, while you go and get drunk with other girls? I’m not stupid, Jungkook, I know where you were the whole of last week.”

He was suddenly silent as he looked at you, unable to reply, mouth running dry.

You saw him gulp but you ignored it.

“I know you were with her, while you left me here, alone,” You said, your voice breaking at the end. You still managed to get the rest of your words out, “I don’t believe you when you say you love me, Jungkook, because I don’t feel it.”

“Y/N…”

“Five months, Jungkook. How long have you been lying to me?”

He didn’t speak for a long moment, and you didn’t bother to break it—his silence was telling enough.

He was tearing up now, you noticed with the tiniest bit of emotion showing on your face—even though you tried your hardest to hide it. His eyes were becoming foggy, and as much as you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him it was alright, you didn’t.

It wasn’t your place anymore.

He’d made that much clear.

“Y/N, please…I can make it right,” He whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking.

You paused, mulling his words over for a long moment, before saying with finality, “Good luck with that.”

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hands began to shake as he caught onto your tone and implication, “W-what do you mean?”

“I’m leaving, Jungkook,” You told him, “I’m moving out next week.”

You watched—watched as the emotions washed over his features, one after the other. His hopeful, composed expression fell first, crumbling as he took in the reality of the situation and the unfaltering truth in your eyes and tone.

He didn’t move, only stared at you—first at your eyes, as if trying to search for any sign of hesitation or reluctance, and then at your unsmiling, firmly-pressed lips, and then finally his gaze turned to your hands—unfolded over the desk, palms flat on the table.

He gulped before he softly said, “Oh.” His voice was so small you barely registered it, so different to his usual, cheerful, enthusiastic voice—not that you would know anymore, seeing as you hadn’t heard it for a long time.

He was gone—emotionally, mentally, then finally physically—for so long you forgot what he feltlike—what he sounded like, truly.

“Yeah.”

There was no more malice in your tone. You didn’t have energy for bitterness or anger, or jealousy anymore. All there was was emptiness, the lack of anything and everything, that you felt through your heart and bones.

There was nothing.

“You’re breaking up with me?”

Those words snapped you. Despite your previous calm, you felt a storm pass through your gaze and you swear you saw him shrink back a little at the change in your expression.

You scoffed, your hands angrily fisting, “You broke up with me, the moment you decided to hurt me like you have. Like you are doing, right now, pinning this situation on me.”

He said nothing, only watching as your eyes became lined with frustrated silver, and he felt his own begin to tear up, too, as he took in your absolutely broken form and voice.

“I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to be silent, not bothering to mull over his apology as you simply stood up, taking your plate with you. The only sound in the apartment was the soft rumbling of the airconditioning, and the clinking of your cutlery as you tucked your chair in, “It’s too late for us, Jungkook.” You said without meeting his eyes so that he wouldn’t see your quiet tears. You slowly made your way to the kitchen to wash your dishes, “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, I will.”

“Okay.”

Your nonchalance broke him more than your anger ever could. You were always so bubbly, so energetic and loving. Jungkook knew he didn’t deserve that anymore, not with how badly he had destroyed your heart.

He simply stood in place, numb, as you finished cleaning your dishes and made your way to the bedroom.

He didn’t see your face, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He said.

You silently shut the bedroom door and didn’t reply.

[andypantsx3]

war paint | 8 | impart

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

As soon as you left your patrol the next afternoon, you hurried into the city to post your wages to your family, then rushed back up the steep climb to the castle. The captain hadn’t specified when you were due at his quarters, but you knew you were in for an earful if you kept him waiting. You couldn’t wait until your next half day of rest to send along your pay, however. The six months the creditor had given your father were rapidly dwindling and your parents needed all the money you could get them before the payment window closed.

On your way back, you raced up the steep incline, outpacing every merchant and townsperson set out on the same road, and arrived back at the top of the outcropping out of breath. Sero gave you a conspiratorial look from his post at the portcullis as you passed back into palace grounds, huffing and puffing.

For all your haste, however, Captain Bakugou still acted as though you’d delayed something like a small eternity.

“You’re late,” he grunted when you arrived, eyeing you as he let you into his spartan office. “Patrol let out a fuckin’ candlemark ago.”

You ducked under his arm where he held the door open. “I came as quickly as I could,” you panted, “I had, um, something to do in town.”

A scarlet eye roved over you. “Which was?”

You bit your lip, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh, post. To my family.”

Bakugou shut the door, turning to loom over you. “You kept me waiting so you could trade fucking love notes?”

You flushed, taking a small step back. “No sir! It was more urgent than that.”

Bakugou grunted and crossed the room, dropping into the chair behind his tidy desk.

The office was just as barren as the day before, papers meticulously sorted and everything in its place. The only clue to the fact that someone used this room at all was the red jacket of Bakugou’s captain’s uniform draped casually across the back of his chair. It left Bakugou in only the button up worn underneath and the sight of him was distressingly distracting - the pristine white of his shirt highlighting his sun tanned skin and drawing out the red of his eyes. The top button was undone and your eyes caught on the golden skin revealed there.

“Quit staring and sit,” Bakugou ordered you curtly, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

You sank apprehensively into the chair across from him, perching lightly on the edge. A silence fell over the room, and Bakugou studied you intently. You could feel his gaze almost like a touch where it brushed over you, and you fixed your eyes resolutely below his face, not wanting to look at him.

“You’ve been keeping secrets, princess, and it’s time to come clean,” he said finally. His voice was rough but resolute, and your heartbeat picked up behind your ribs.

What did he mean come clean? What was it that he thought he knew? Was he asking about your family, your reason for being here? The floating rumor that you’d lied about your age to gain access to the kingsguard? The fighting with Nishimura that was still ongoing?

“Look at me,” he commanded, and you slowly raised your face to his.

Again you were struck by how absurdly handsome he was, even as he was about to wring you out with the reprimanding of a lifetime. His serious expression called attention to the sharpness of his features - his straight nose, angular jawline, and thin mouth. His watchful crimson eyes were swept with thick blonde lashes, almost catlike in shape, and intent as always. The latent command of his presence roiled under your skin and the intensity of his focus stripped you bare - you felt seen in a way that unnerved you like nothing else.

“What secrets, Captain?” you asked carefully, picking idly at the fabric of your uniform pants.

Bakugou’s mouth curled. “What was so urgent with your family?”

You flushed under his attention. “My wages," you admitted, "I post them to my family every week. They’re in debt and they need to repay it by the end of this month.”

The truth of it tasted bitter in your mouth and your ears burned hot with shame. After these many months, you’d grown accustomed to hiding your troubles. Admitting to them was uncomfortable to say the least.

A blond eyebrow raised. “You are their only source of income? And your family has no sons?”

“I am an only child,” you replied. “They have no other help.”

A thoughtful expression crossed his features. “I see,” he murmured. His quiet tone was startling in comparison to his usual brash manner. “That explains it.”

“Explains what, Captain?”

“Why you are here,” he said. Something in his tone set you on edge, raising alarm bells in your mind.

“Captain, have I done something wrong?” you asked. Almost as soon as the words were out of your mouth, however, you realized they were the wrong ones. Something in Bakugou’s gaze sharpened and he leaned forward. The hair on the back of your neck stood up and a sense of foreboding settled heavily over you, like a blanket meant to choke a fire.

“How stupid do you think I am, L/N,” he said, placing a calloused hand on the desk before him, “to ask a question like that?”

Your nails bit into your thighs. No. He couldn’t know. Whatever he thought he knew, he wouldn’t be sitting here calmly, having this conversation if he knew what you were.

“I’ve trained a lot of soldiers,” Bakugou continued, his voice rough. “Hardly a one is as capable as you have proven yourself. But you and I both know that under normal circumstances, you would never be allowed here.”

A prickling fear crept over you. You opened your mouth to say something, make any excuse, but nothing came out.

“You know, they talk a lotta shit at court. About why someone like me would run the guard instead of marrying and repairing to Musutafu. Heard a lotta shit about how I wouldn’t know a woman if she pranced naked in front of me.”

His blood red gaze held yours and you found you couldn’t pull your own eyes away. “You think that’s true, princess?”

Your mind flashed back to that evening in the baths, how his eyes had picked over you, the curious tilt to his head before he grinned and came into the water. The press of his broad, wet chest against your back, his voice in your ear.

All his comments, the sword, his watchful behavior since suddenly snapped into place.

He had known. Fuck, he had known.

“No, Captain,” you choked out. A cold terror swept through you. What was he going to do now? Discharge you? Turn you in?

Bakugou tapped his calloused fingers over the wood of his desk, eyes never leaving you. “And what do you think I should do?”

You had shot to your feet before you even knew what you were doing, your mind was filling with only one thing.

“Please, Captain,” you begged, “I need the money. Please let me finish out six months, that’s all I ask.”

Bakugou was quiet a long moment, watching you carefully. His eyes tracked you closely.

“Only six months, huh?” he asked finally.

You started, surprised. “What?”

A smirk played about his mouth and he reached atop the neat pile of papers on his desk. Long fingers pushed a familiar half hand of parchment towards you, and you glanced down. The terms of your recruitment and your own deliberately messy signature stared up at you. “Says here you’re signed into a year and a day of service, princess.”

You could feel your eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Captain Bakugou, I don’t understand.”

His smirk widened and he stood, coming around the desk to you. “You think I would discharge one of my best soldiers before her term is up?”

The look he was giving you suggested that you consider your answer carefully. “....No?”

A predatory grin crept over his mouth. “No.”

You stared at him, bewildered. “Then why call me here, Captain? Why ask what you should do?”

Bakugou huffed a laugh and leaned into your space. You stumbled a step back, bumping clumsily into the chair behind you. Your hand shot out and to your horror you grabbed a fistful of his shirt to keep yourself upright, only succeeding in drawing him closer.

This close, you could clearly see how dark his eyes had become and you thought you might be able to count every one of his golden lashes. That mind numbing scent of smoke and sugar pressed in on you, and you felt like your brain was stuffed with cotton. Your fingers tightened on his collar and a large hand came up to press against your back, holding you steady.

“I meant what should I do,” he said slowly, “if I've wanted to kiss one of my soldiers for months.”

All thought fled from your brain like rats from the proverbial ship. You stared at him, speechless.

Bakugou’s face dipped closer and his hand slipped up your back, pressing you closer. “What then, princess?” he breathed.

He couldn’t be serious. You were many things, but an option to Bakugou was not one of them. Disguised as a boy you looked younger than your years, but when looked at through the lense of womanhood, you were too old to be a possibility to any man. More than that, you had quite literally disguised yourself as a boy, and had spent the last five months training and sweating and bleeding with this man. How could anyone, least of all a man who looked like Bakugou did, want you now?

A calloused thumb brushed over your back and an involuntary shiver went up your spine. Bakugou’s eyes roved over you, unblinking, and you watched as his pupils dilated slightly.

“Captain, you can’t be serious,” you said, holding completely still.

A crease appeared in his brow. “It’s Katsuki.”

You stared at him. “What?”

“My name,” he repeated, “is Katsuki. I am not your captain for the purposes of this conversation.”

You looked up at him in shock but his face remained even, his expression earnest. Did he mean it?

“Katsuki,” you repeated, testing it out. His fingers tightened on your back but he said nothing.

You took another breath and continued. “You can’t be serious,” you said again.

This seemed to irritate him, his grip tensing where he held you. “Why not?” he ground out, the corners of his mouth turning down into a frown.

“There are plenty of women in the castle,” you said. A pretty image of Mina floated to your mind. “Women who dress like women. Women who are younger, prettier.”

He growled. “I don’t care about the women in the castle, princess. I’m not asking just because you’re right in front of me.”

“What, then?” you asked, searching his face for some answer.

He fit his other hand against your waist to pull you impossibly closer. It burned at your side with a heat like a small sun, impossible to ignore. “You’ve got nerve, princess. It’s not any woman who would disguise herself and sneak into the guard. It’s not any woman who could best any of my men. It's not any woman who would start a fist fight with some asshole her very first day, and continue to be a pain in my ass ever since. I don’t want women in the castle,” he spat. “I want you.”

Heat licked up your spine. For a moment you thought he had lit off an explosion against your skin, before you realized with a flush that nothing of the sort had happened. This was your own desire.

Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and pressed your mouth to his.

For a moment he stood frozen, and you wondered wildly if this was some kind of joke he’d chosen to play before discharging you, a momentary reprieve before he struck the killing blow.

But then his mouth moved and you didn’t have the capacity to wonder anything any more.

Katsuki Bakugou’s kiss was just as deadly as his swordplay. His mouth was hot and he tasted impossibly of smoke and sweetness. A rough hand came up to cradle the back of your head and press you closer to him as he pressed his tongue into the seam of your lips. You opened your mouth compliantly and he swept in like an invading army, letting out a low groan.

“Fuck, princess,” he breathed when you broke apart. You opened your mouth to reply but he was back on you before you could, pressing you backwards and bearing you down to the wood of his desk. He swept a careless arm out, shoving the papers from the surface. They fluttered to the floor in a whirlwind of dark ink.

“You should have seen you in the bath,” he ground out, swooping in for another kiss. “Any idiot would have known you for a woman.”

He pressed a hand to your waist and guided you back, settling into the space between your thighs. He bent to pluck another kiss from your lips, then started mouthing a hot path down the side of your neck.

Your hand came up to grab a fistful of blonde hair, and you felt your leg hook around the back of his thigh to draw him closer.

“Captain,” you said, but the glare of a red eye had you reeling to correct yourself. “Katsuki, I’m not sure you should want this--”

A warning bite at your shoulder cut you off. “Give me your name.”

Confusion swirled into the haze of emotions clouding your mind. “What?”

“Your first name,” Katsuki said, biting down again. You gasped and arched up into him. “I want to know your name.”

“Y/N,” you managed, before he took your mouth again. Then he kept you occupied long enough for you to quite forget what you’d been starting to complain about.

When you next broke apart, the sky outside the room’s only window had darkened and every nerve in your body felt as though it were on fire. You ached to get closer to him even though you were pressed against him everywhere, his weight all but pinning you to the worn wood of his desk. Your lips felt chapped and your mind swam with the weight of him, the feel of him, that scent of smoke and sugar that swirled around him like a mist, fogging up your mind.

“Y/N,” he said, pulling back from you. He held himself over you on the strength of his arms. “I want you to be sure you want this. If you say you don’t, I won’t discharge you. You can go back to being a regular soldier and finish out your contract.”

You pulled together just enough of your wits to process what he was saying. “I understand," you said slowly, looking up at him, "And if I did want it?”

“I’ll keep your secret,” he said, face dipping back down to yours. The scarlet of his iris was darker than you’d ever seen. “But I get to finish what I should have done in that bath.”

Heat swept through you and your toes curled, your fingers flexing where you still grasped his hair. Was he saying...?

“You can take a couple days,” he said, drawing further off of you, “Think it over.”

You shook your head, tightening your grip to stop him. “I know my answer now.”

And you did. After so many months of wondering after him, staring at him, learning about him, how could you not? Katsuki Bakugou was loud, brash, and infuriating but he also was fiercely protective, watchful, and -- in his own twisted up way -- kind. He’d found you a sword, trained you himself, thought you more capable than any man. He’d kept your secret, would keep it still.

There was only one answer.

“You want to finish what you started in the bath?” you asked carefully, tipping your head to look back at him. You let a small smile creep over your mouth. “I think I’m free tonight.”

[red-jaebyrd]

Somebody That I Used to Know

Here is the long awaited sequel to “My Brother’s Keeper”. Sorry it took so long I was in in the process of moving out of state. Thank you to @brokenhearted-queen for your awesome beta work! I really appreciated it.

This wasn’t part of the plan, but since Jason and his brothers had arrived in Bludhaven nothing had happened according to their plan. They weren’t supposed to make contact with Ric this soon, this fast, but it happened. They had agreed in the beginning to simply sit back, watch him, and make sure he was safe from The Court of Owls.

As far as Jason knew The Court had been trying for years to acquire Dick to their cause to become their Talon. In each encounter they were not successful. Opportunity struck when Dick had been shot in the head. What better opening did an evil organization need to swoop in and take advantage of an asset with amnesia? Jason, Tim and Damian could not allow that to happen, which meant they had to get to Ric first.

The plan eventually was for Jason or Tim to insert themselves into Ric’s life and keep him safe away from the Court.  Acquire the intel they needed to further implicate The Court and figure out a way to reverse the damage they had done to Dick and hopefully fix it.

But then Ric’s cab broke down and Jason had a crisis of conscience. He couldn’t in good faith just leave Ric with a busted cab on the side of the road, so Jason helped and then got invited to have a beer. It was only supposed to be one night; one beer and Jason would disappear and “run into” Ric again at a later time.

Except Jason’s curiosity had got the better of him and he had allowed himself to get attached. All those nights talking with Ric, Jason came away learning new things about himself and  his long lost brother, or rather, a man that looked a lot like his brother, but wasn’t his brother. Jason found that Ric was very easy to talk to. Not that talking to Dick was difficult, but sometimes conversations with Dick would turn into the older man telling Jason what he should have done, rather than just letting Jason talk.

Jason had discovered that he could truly talk to Ric about everything, especially all the shit that had happened to him lately like losing Roy and the fallout with Bruce. To his surprise there was no judgment from Ric, just empathy; no unsolicited advice, just commiseration. It was unsettling yet welcoming as Jason began to realize that this was the exact brotherly relationship he had always wanted with Dick. How fucked up was it that it had to take a bullet to the brain and amnesia to make this happen for both of them.

Before Jason knew it, he and Ric were becoming fast friends. Ric didn’t suspect a thing and everything was going back to the original plan. Only this time, they had an active eye on Ric instead of solely relying on CCTV footage.

All of it was going great until that fucking Talon had attacked them, Jason and Ric had moved together, fought together in sync like no time between them had passed. Like a bullet to the brain hadn’t changed anything between them. Muscle memory had taken over and Ric was not letting up. It had been just like old times all those years ago out in the field as Robin and Nightwing fighting and kicking ass. The victory had shattered when Ric called him ‘Little Wing’.

All the air had left Jason’s lungs as the familiar nickname reached his ears. Ric saw it too as his smile faltered realizing the strange name that had come out of his mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ric stared wide eyed at Jason, his breaths coming in ragged as the fight had ended. “What just happened? I don’t know why I called you that. Why did I call you that?”

Jason looked around. They were out in the open standing over an unconscious assassin in plain sight. This was not the place to have that conversation.

“Later, not here. It isn’t safe,” Jason said in clipped tones. He grabbed Ric by the shoulder and steered him toward his car. “I promise I’ll explain everything. Get in the car.”

Ric was quiet the whole ride to Jason’s apartment while Jason told him everything; how Jason knew him; how long they had known each other and their connection to Bruce Wayne. But once they got inside, Ric didn’t hold back and Jason couldn’t blame him.

“All that time pretending to be my friend, was it all an act?” Ric snapped.

“No, I wasn’t pretending,” Jason confessed. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Was I just another case to solve, another problem to fix?” Ric shouted, gesturing wildly at Jason and pacing the small space of the living room. “Or was it all just… just a means to an end…to get what you wanted; to get him back.”

The accusation sucked, but it wasn’t that far from the truth. Jason glanced over and saw Tim eavesdropping near the hallway. Jason motioned for Tim to come into the room. Tim hesitantly inched his way slowly next to Jason waving nervously at Ric. Ric ignored him.

“No, it wasn’t like that, Ric. I swear,” Jason sighed, putting his hands out in a calming gesture. He looked over at Tim for help.

“He didn’t lie about his name, only about who he was to you, or used to be to you, to Dick,” Tim rambled talking with his hands and almost hitting Jason in the face. He quickly shoved them in his pockets. “Not everything was a lie; he just didn’t provide specific details about how he knew you.”

Ric glared at Tim causing the teenager to look away in shame. Tim quickly shuffled way from Ric and Jason and sat on the couch.

“Really not helping, Tim,” Jason sighed, running his hand down his face in exasperation.

Ric looked up and finally noticed Damian who was edging into the room from the hallway. Ric’s jaw clenched in anger. “You’re working for him!” he shouted, pointing accusingly at Damian. “Did he…did Wayne hire you to find me?”

Damian shrunk under the accusation. He looked close to tears even with a scowl on his face. This was getting worse by the minute. The boy stomped off to the kitchen out of sight from Ric.

“Bruce didn’t send us. We’re not doing this for him,” Jason scoffed. “Fuck that. We’re doing this for us, for you. You belong with us, not here on your own.”

Ric crossed his arms in defiance. “I’ve been doing just fine on my own before you guys came along and fucked things up.”

“Bullshit!” Jason argued, leveling a look at Ric. “You’re waking up in strange houses, drinking all the time to numb the pain and dull your memory from all the nightmares. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard it from your own mouth what those nightmares do to you. Your memories are coming back and you're scared shitless.”

“Fuck off!” Ric bellowed, stalking away from Jason toward the dining room table. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Jason had hit a nerve. He glanced at Tim and hoped he saw it too. Tim nodded and headed to the desk grabbing a thick file folder from the top drawer.

“You have to believe us when we tell you that you’ve been played by the Court of Owls this whole time,” Tim interjected, handing Ric a thick file folder. “They took your memories of us with a regimen of drugs and deep hypnosis. They knew that taking away your memories of us would make it easier to groom you into their Talon. So if anyone lied to you, it was them, starting with Dr Haas.”

Ric haphazardly flipped through the documents in the file and then set it down on the table in front of him. He jammed the heels of his hands in his eyes. “I can’t. I can’t do this right now.” He crossed his arms angrily and turned to Jason, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I thought you were my friend, but you lied to me.”

“I -” Jason started, but shook his head in frustration.

But that was just it; Jason had never lied to him at least not about anything they had talked about at The Prodigal. He may have omitted names in their discussions as well as certain details concerning their shared history, but Jason was truthful about everything else. All of their conversations were based in truth. Jason made sure he had never lied to him, not like Dick had done all those years ago while he was ‘dead’. It still pissed Jason off whenever he had thought about it.

“You know, I didn’t have to say yes to that beer, but I did and let’s just say a part of me was curious to see you.” Jason shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I wanted to see if you remembered me, but I didn’t need you to remember. In all honesty I didn’t want you to remember so imagine my immense relief when I met you and you didn’t have a clue who I was. I was just a random stranger to you.”

Jason walked over to the table positioning himself next to Ric who was still standing in front of the table staring daggers at the folder. Jason leaned against the table and tilted his head to get Ric to look at him.

“And every time we sat down and had a beer, all the baggage and history of all the horrible shit I had done in the past was not rubbed back in my face by the guy who had my brother’s face,” Jason continued. “The ‘Golden boy’ was gone and in his place was this guy, my friend who never offered a lick of advice to me but instead just listened to my bullshit without judgment. I got to do the same in return for him with no agenda of jogging memories. It was perfect.

“So yeah, I’ll admit that I took advantage of a bad situation. I bent the truth a bit and left out certain details. But, I never lied to you, not like you lied to us all those years ago.”

Ric’s head snapped up at Jason’s last sentence. His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Jason, low blow. Now’s not the time for this discussion!” Tim cut in standing between Jason and Ric.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Tim and crossed his arms. Tim opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head and walked away leaning against the wall. Jason took a deep breath and refocused his attention back onto Ric.

“Once upon time you faked your own death and didn’t even let us in on the secret.” Jason said coldly. “For months we thought you were dead. Don’t remember that do you, Dickie? Well it sucked.”

Ric rubbed his right cheek and returned his focus to the contents on the table.

“You said your lie was to protect us, but it was really to protect you, to protect Bruce, to protect the mission. You put the mission ahead of us, because that was what we had been taught. It’s how he raised us in this life.”

Jason slumped in the chair next to Ric and caught a quick glimpse of him biting his lip. Jason closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he continued.

“And you know what, as much as it sucked, being lied to by you and believing that you were dead, I get it now. I get why you had to lie and carry that secret. So yeah, I kept who I was from you and I put ‘this mission’ ahead of your feelings, but I did it because you’re a Rob-.” Jason stopped to clear his throat. “…because you’re our brother. I did it because that’s exactly what Dick did for us.”

“I’m not him anymore. I-I don’t…” Ric shook his head, gesturing at an old picture of Dick from the file folder. “I –I really don’t know who I am right now.”

Jason closed the file folder and pushed it out from Ric’s reach.

“I know who you are. You’re my friend, Ric and like I told you at the bar, you’re still the same guy I met on the side of the road with a broken down cab,” Jason reaffirmed. “You’re still the same guy I have beers with and play pool. And you’re right. You’re not Dick Grayson, but that’s not gonna stop us from trying to protect you from yourself and every other motherfucker lining up to take advantage of an amnesic former vigilante.”

“How do I know I can trust you guys?” Ric challenged, crossing his arms and leveling a look at Jason.

“You don’t, but just hear us out,” Jason said, getting up and pulling out a chair for Ric. “If you don’t like what you hear you can leave. We won’t stop you.”

Ric furrowed his brow at Jason for a split second but sat in the chair keeping his arms crossed.

“Excuse us for a second,” Tim said as he steered Jason by his sleeve into the kitchen out of earshot from Ric.

“What are you doing?” Tim whispered loudly as he kept his grip on Jason’s sleeve.” We can’t just let him leave.”

“We can’t force him to stay.” Jason retorted, yanking his arm out of Tim’s grip.

“The hell we can’t.” Tim argued. “Damian and I worked too hard on this to give up now.”

“Do you think I want to let him leave? You don’t think I want to tie him to a chair and make him stay? We can’t force him to stay, otherwise he’ll take off and then what?” Jason snapped. “Once he hears everything we have to tell him, he isn’t going anywhere.”

“You better know what you’re doing, Todd.” Damian said, glaring at Jason as he opened the cupboard to retrieve the box of tea bags.

“I do. Stay in the kitchen, understood.” Jason instructed, putting his hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Tim and I will handle this.”

Damian nodded, placing a teabag into the mug and pouring hot water into it.  

Jason and Tim made their way back into the living room to talk to Ric. Jason’s palms started to sweat at the thought of getting this all wrong and Ric storming out of the apartment in anger. Jason was already taking a risk by giving Ric permission to leave if he didn’t like what they had to say. But Jason had to remember that they weren’t showing Ric video footage of his shooting, nor were they force-feeding him memories of Dick Grayson and his old life. They were simply explaining their presence in Bludhaven and showing Ric evidence of him being duped by The Court.

Tim kept wringing his hands despite the determined look on his face.

“This is gonna work, Tim,” Jason reassured squeezing Tim’s shoulder. “Like you said, you and Damian worked too damn hard collecting evidence and research. He’ll believe us.”

Tim nodded, swallowing thickly.

He watched as Ric fought to sit still in the chair. Ric uncrossed his arms and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs. He ran a hand up and down his neck in exhaustion before massaging his temples. He then straightened up, crossed his arms again, and started bouncing his knee up and down so fast Jason was surprised Ric’s calf wasn’t burning. He looked like a spring ready to snap and hightail it out of the apartment. Finally Ric got up from the chair to pace the space of the living room. Jason knew he wouldn’t last long sitting still.

“We were only going to keep an eye on you and not interact until absolutely necessary,” Jason explained entering the living room from the kitchen.

Ric continued to walk around the apartment. He looked like he was listening, the tension in his shoulders was still present, and Jason could also see the muscles working in Ric’s jaw. Jason glanced at Tim to take over.

“We hadn’t planned on ever really talking to you…” Tim continued clearing his throat. “…not this soon at least. Our main intention was just keeping you safe, because you’re important to us.”

Ric finally stopped pacing and turned around to face Tim.

“I don’t know you,” Ric said flatly. “I barely know Jason.”

Tim’s shoulders sagged in defeat at Ric’s words and Jason could see the muscles in Tim’s jaw clenching. Jason knew the kid was fighting back tears. Jason walked over to Tim blocking his view of Ric and gave him a one armed hug. It wasn’t a Dick Grayson hug, but it would do in a pinch.

“Kid, you alright?” Jason quietly asked crouching at Tim’s level to get him to look at him.

“I will be,” Tim sniffed and took a deep breath. He plastered on a fake smile that did not reach his eyes and returned his attention to Ric.

“I know you don’t know me, but you trust Jason and I know a part of you wants to trust me too,” Tim reasoned, leveling a look at Ric. “Deep down your gut is telling you that we are important to you too, isn’t it?”

Jason watched as Ric’s shoulders slumped and his anger deflating as Tim’s words sunk in.

Ric stalked over to the table toward the file folder and opened it. He thumbed through it slowly and thoroughly.  Jason and Tim watched as Ric took in all the evidence Tim and Damian had collected over the last few weeks. Photos, notes, detailed documents of his past medications and prescriptions and their intended effects on the nervous system, particularly his. Ric sunk into the nearest chair as he held aloft a sketch of his neurologist, Dr Haas.

“This is all so fucked up,” Ric turned to give them both his full attention still holding the picture of Dr Haas. “So what you’re saying here, what these documents are saying is that I was drugged and hypnotized with suggestive thoughts to alter my memories so that I could be lured into an old secret society called “The Court of Owls’?”

“Sounds far-fetched but it’s on par with their reputation,” Jason added.

“Yes, you are the key to them continuing their work,” Tim clarified, pointing out certain photos of the Court to Ric. “You are who they refer to as the ‘The Gray Son of Gotham’. Their intention was to raise you into taking over your great-grandfather’s position, to be their Talon, basically their enforcer.

Tim pulled out a chair and sat next to Ric.

“We wanted to get close, but not so close that we would give ourselves away to you.” Tim continued, talking nervously with his hands. “That all backfired when Jason ‘met’ you sooner than we had intended. Still, the meet proved to have been beneficial because now we had an active eye on you.”

“So you were spying on me?” Ric quipped. “Were you also wearing an earpiece?”

“No,” Jason retorted, appalled that Ric would even suggest such a thing.

“Jason wouldn’t wear one,” Tim replied nonchalantly.

“Shut up, Tim.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

Jason turned to Ric. “Everything I ever said to you was never made up or fabricated. Again, I never lied to you. I swear. I just omitted names and certain details. Everything you told me, I never shared outside the bar. I promise.”

“Ric, are your memories coming back?” Tim asked.

Ric cringed at the question, his shoulders inching toward his ears. He swallowed thickly and looked over at Jason. Jason gave him an encouraging nod to answer the question.

“Yes, I think so,” Ric answered, looking down at the file folder and thumbing through the photos. “Mostly in dreams, but tonight was the first time I remembered something while I was awake. I think the muscle memory of fighting that Talon with Jason triggered something.”

“How so?” Tim probed.

“I called Jason ‘Little Wing’. At the time I didn’t know why I said it,” Ric explained. “It just came out as the most natural thing to say to him, but in the car I remembered that I used to call you that when you were younger?”

“When we had fought together as Robin and Nightwing,” Jason finished. “I hated the nickname at first, but I learned to like it later on. You still call me that now even if I’m not so ‘little’ anymore.”

Ric nodded and rested his chin in his hand and slowly scrutinized every piece of paper in the file folder with his free hand. He didn’t say a word the whole time. His brow furrowed in thought as he read page after page of notes. Ric’s silence was starting to unnerve Jason. He was still always so used to Dick being chatty regardless of his emotions. It was what made him annoying and endearing all at the same time. Jason had to remind himself that Ric wasn’t Dick. Maybe silence was how Ric liked to process things.

“I don’t want to go back to Gotham,” Ric said breaking the silence. “I’m not ready to see – I don’t want to see Bruce just yet.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not going back there for a while,” Tim assured. “It really isn’t safe to go there. We’re going to lay low here for the time being. You can stay here until we clear this mess with The Court.”

“It’s just that everyone who says that they know me keeps wanting me to be someone I can’t remember and I can’t handle it right now if he…”

“You don’t need to be anyone other than yourself, Ric. It’s okay. No one here is going to tell you how you should or shouldn’t be living your life.” Jason said the last sentence louder so it carried over to the kitchen. “Right?”

“Correct,” Damian answered from the kitchen.

“We’re still interested in getting to know you. Will you give us a second chance, please?” Tim asked. “We won’t push an old life you can’t remember down your throat.”

Just as Ric was going to answer Tim he stopped and sniffed the air. “What’s that smell? Is the old man here?”

“Alfred? No, it’s just the kid making tea,” Jason replied, his mouth going suddenly dry.

The smell wasn’t just from any ordinary tea. The scent was of home and comfort that brought with it memories of simpler times when a cup of tea fixed everything. The rich aroma of Earl Grey tea filled the living room and flooded Jason with memories of sad times turned to happiness with a simple cup of tea with Alfred. Jason almost couldn’t take it. Tim stared at him with wide eyes. Ric looked lost in a memory triggered by the strong scent of bergamot. It was Alfred’s comfort tea. At least that is what Dick had named it all those years ago when they had tried to coax Jason out of a bad mood. It was the type of tea Alfred had made on bad days that contained just enough caffeine to counteract anything from crying jags to bad moods. It was the tea he’d make in the special Robin’s Egg blue teapot with matching cups. It was Alfred’s way of comforting them the only way he knew how, with a cup of tea and a listening ear.

Jason didn’t even know he had Earl Grey tea in the apartment. Alfred must have stocked his pantry with it the last time he was here and now Damian had found it.

Damian walked into the room handing a steaming mug to Ric. “Drink this. It –.”

“–will make you feel better,” Ric finished. “He – he used to say that to me on bad days while he handed me a cup of Earl Grey tea.”

Damian sat in the empty chair next to Ric, cradling his own cup of tea. “He said it to all of us, Richard.”

Silence filled the apartment as Ric and Damian drank their tea. Tim gathered the scattered contents of the file and placed them back into the folder. Jason made his way into the kitchen to collect himself. He slumped against the kitchen counter and took a deep breath.

The evening’s events replayed themselves in his mind’s eye. Jason shook his head as he thought about what they could have lost tonight. They got lucky that Ric hadn’t bolted out of the apartment and disappeared. Tim had known that playing to Ric’s instincts would pay off. Jason had known that if he stated his case and showed the evidence, the detective buried inside of Ric would wake up and believe them. It had been a gamble, but it paid off. Jason rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Exhaustion was starting to settle into his bones.

“Hey, you okay, you’ve been in here a while,” Tim asked, poking his head into the kitchen.

“I’m fine. What are they doing now?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“They finished their tea and now Damian is trying to get Ric to play ‘Cheese Vikings’.”

“Is it working?”

“I think Ric is warming up to him. They’re no longer scowling at each other, so that’s progress.”

Jason nodded.

“What’s wrong, Jason?” Tim asked, squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “You did it. You brought him back to us.”

He knew he should be happy, relieved that all four of them were finally under the same roof. But Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was slowly losing his friend. He didn’t go into this to just get Dick back, even if that is what he had told Tim and Damian at the start. He went into this to also keep Dick safe. But then he met Ric and they had gotten to know each other, which is when everything got complicated. There was always the possibility of Ric getting his memories back, that was a given; and with getting those memories back there was the possibility of Jason losing his friend. Jason just thought he’d have more time, but then that Talon fucker attacked them and Ric had called him ‘Little Wing’, and all bets were off.

Was it even possible at this point to have his brother back and still keep his friend? Jason didn’t know.

Jason grabbed two beers from the fridge. He opened one and took a swig.

“I’m happy he’s safe now. It’s just been a long night.”

Jason wasn’t going to bother explaining his apprehension to Tim. The kid was finally smiling after months of wearing a perpetual scowl to match Damian. There was no doubt Tim was happy that Ric decided to stay with them, and he should be happy. He and Damian worked damn hard collecting and curating all that evidence just to prove to their brother that he had been duped by the very people that were supposed to be helping him.

“You’re lying.”

Jason glared at him. “Just drop it.”

Both of them made it out of the kitchen and into the living room with Ric and Damian. Ric now had a controller and seemed to be doing an okay job navigating the game.

Jason handed the unopened beer to Ric and sat in the armchair next to the couch.

Ric handed the controller back to Damian to open his beer and took a drink.

“You know, I’m still a little mad at you,” Ric groused with no heat in his voice.

Jason smirked. “I know, but you’ll get over it.”

[etoileholland]

Why must I meet you in a secret rendezvous?

@rosieholland​ asked “Hey I love all your imagines! Maybe you could do one where the boys are stuck at home during quarantine but Harry’s best friend y/n is staying with them. And Tom and y/n and secretly start dating and don’t say anything because they don’t know how Harry will feel about it.

Pairing: Tom x female reader; bestfriend! Harry

Warnings: a lil argument, I think that’s all

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for requesting this, and I really hope you enjoy! As always, requests are open, and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

It was a dangerous game to sneak around your best friend’s back, especially since you weren’t very good at keeping secrets.

You and Harry were nearly inseparable, and it seemed as though when someone saw one of you, then the other was somewhere nearby. When he began to work on his short film project and needed an actress, he called you first. You had known Harry for almost two years, and you met over what you call “the frozen yogurt debacle”. This needs no elaboration since it’s not important to the plot, but it’s important to note that a terrible shared experience can bring two people together.

A week into filming, it was announced that the UK would go into lockdown, and that meant filming had to be postponed. Since you spent more time at the Holland residence than your own, Harry asked if you would quarantine with them.

Naturally, spending so much time together with people for a few months would make it so that you get very comfortable around everyone.

The boys knew that you were physically affectionate, so no one batted an eye when you were cuddled up next to someone. Most of the time you were always with Harry, or sometimes Sam, and occasionally Tom.

That’s why no one suspected that you and Tom were secretly dating, especially Harry. You had vowed to keep it a secret from him because you didn’t want him to get mad at you for dating his brother.

Sneaking around was quite fun though, and it was becoming more and more like a game.

“Baby” you trailed off, moaning as Tom trailed kisses down your neck. You were both in his bedroom with the door locked, trying not to make any noise. Harry’s room was right on the other side of the wall, and it was a dangerous game to be making out in Tom’s room.

“Love, I need you-”, he placed a kiss on your shoulder, biting lightly as you moaned, “to be quiet.”

“You’re making it quite difficult.” You breathed back and he let out a breathy laugh.

“Good.” He kissed you deeper, and you heard Harry say something from the other side of the wall.

“Tom.” You were trying to untangle yourself from him, but he just kept pulling you closer. “Harry said something.” You managed to sit up, and Tom just pouted.

“So? He’s probably playing fifa or something.” He said, lifting his head slightly to kiss you on the lips.

“What if he knows?” You asked and he just shook his head.

“You’ve gotta tell him eventually. As much fun as it is to sneak around, you should be honest with him. He’s your best friend.”

“And he’s your brother.” You replied. “I don’t know, I guess I don’t want him to hate me for being with you.”

“I really doubt he’ll hate you, if he really loves me then he’ll be happy for me being with someone as lovely as you.” He stated and you nodded.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you cupped Tom’s cheek with your hand, placing a light kiss to his cheek, “I did promise Harry that I would bake cookies with him.”

“Alright darling, cuddle later?” Tom looked at you with wide, puppy dog like eyes and you let out a small laugh.

“Of course, see you later, secret boyfriend.” You whispered while holding up finger guns.

“Back at you, secret girlfriend.” He winked as you quietly left the room.

——

“Earth to Y/N, why are you so distracted?” Harry waved his hand in front of you, gently slapping your cheek. “What is going on in that pretty little mind of yours?” He smirked as he let out a small laugh.

You two were supposed to be baking some cookies, but you’ve been lost in your thoughts for the duration of the activity.

“I’m just thinking about how in Italian, when you want to describe a loving boy with a good heart, you say “è buono come il pane” which literally means “he’s as good as bread” and I think that’s beautiful.”

“Actually, yeah that is beautiful. Would you describe me that way?” He looked up from the cookbook and you nodded. “Yeah of course, they must’ve had you in mind when they came up with that term.”

“Aw gosh I love you.” He put his hand over his heart and smiled, “but really, what are you thinking about? Hmm?” He prodded and you felt yourself already start to panic. He took a long drink of his water bottle, while continuing to stare at you.

“Okay fine, I was thinking that the guy who’s in the “Adam.” vine and the “hi, welcome to chili’s” guy are not the same person, but twins and I don’t know what to do with this information.” You rambled and Harry choked, gasping for air.

“Girl, you have got to use your one braincell for something more important than that. You’ve gotta be kidding.” He said but you shook your head no.

“Dead serious, why would I lie to you?”

“I don’t know, sometimes you don’t always say everything.”

“What do you mean by that?” You inquired and Harry remained silent.

“Nothing.” He choked out the word, and began to stare straight ahead. “Anyway can you just pass me the vanilla?”

—

“We can’t continue to do this anymore.”

A few days had passed since the baking incident, and you were convinced that Harry knew about you and Tom. You two were making out in the hallway closet, since it was one of the furthest points away from Harry’s bedroom, and far enough away from the living room so no one would hear you. You had begged Tom to not show any affection in the main parts of the house so that you wouldn’t get caught, so you two often ended up here.

“Whoa whoa, what do you mean by that?” His eyes scanned your face, and he rubbed your arm as you stood there silent.

“Baby please say something, it’s killing me. What do you mean we can’t do this anymore?” He whispered.

“I can’t sneak around behind my best friends back anymore, Tom. Okay? He’s gonna find out and he’ll be mad and I don’t want that. I don’t want to lose either one of you but if I had to choose-” you stopped yourself, and Tom looked at you with wide eyes.

“Finish your sentence.” He insisted, but you shook your head no. “I don’t want to finish it.”

“Say it.” He pleaded, and you looked down so he wouldn’t see a tear escape your eye.

“Say it!” He screamed and you flinched.

“I didn’t want to choose, but if I had to pick then I would pick Harry, alright?” You choked out the last word, and took a deep breath before finishing your thought. “I want a relationship with you but just because I want it, it doesn’t make it right. I love being Harry’s friend, and I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship just for a relationship with you.” Tom backed away from you, speechless as he reached for the door handle.

“Tom I’m sorry, just wait one second.” You grabbed his hand and he stood there, waiting for you to break his heart again.

“Let’s not make things weird between us, yeah? Then everyone will know for sure what happened.” You stated.

“Right, because now we care so much about what others think.” He added as he left, closing the door and leaving you in the closet alone.

You knew this day would come, and you braced yourself for it, so when it crumbled you were prepared for it. You just felt numb, and the shock almost hasn’t registered yet. You left the closet and walked into the living room, where Harry and Sam were playing video games.

“What’s with the long face?” Sam asked as Harry looked up at you.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about how once I got a fortune from a fortune cookie that read ‘fortune not found: abort, retry, ignore?’ and I think I’ve been destined for bad luck ever since that fateful day.”

“Ah, cool. Hey would you want to play a game with us?” Harry asked, completely ignoring what you had just said.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, but before you had a chance to find out what it was, Harry bolted past you.

“Tom, Tuwaine, Harrison, get over here!” He ran up and down the hallway, trying to get everyone’s attention.

“What in the world?” Harrison asked.

“Did someone die?” Tuwaine inquired, peeking his head out of his bedroom door.

“It’s nothing bad, wanna play a game with all of us?” He asked and everyone groaned and rolled their eyes.

“Well what kind of game?” Harrison said hesitantly as Harry just grinned.

“I’ll explain once everyone comes into the living room because I don’t want to explain it twice.”

Everyone made their way into the room, and Harry instructed them to sit on the floor in a circle. Just then Sam downed the last of his beer and set the bottle on its side in the middle of the circle.

“Alright, it’s truth or dare, but with a twist. Technically it’s more of a spin, it’s regular truth or dare but instead of singling each other out, it’ll be more fair with the spin the bottle aspect.” He rambled, taking a seat right next to you.

You noticed that Tom was sat as far away from you as possible, and dodging your gaze. You looked back to see Harry resting his hand on your knee.

“Are we ready to play? I’ll go first.” Harry spun the bottle and it landed on Harrison.

“Alright mate, truth or dare.”

“Dare.”

“Okay.” Harry paused, “I dare you to read the last text message you received.”

Harrison unlocked his phone, and after a few seconds spoke. “Aha, it just says “Your amazon package is on its way.”

“Dang I was hoping it would’ve been juicier than that.” Harry remarked as Harrison spun the bottle. It landed back on Harry and he just smirked.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Last lie you told?” Harrison leaned his arms back and propped himself up with them. Harry thought for a minute and just shrugged his shoulders.

“I told Sam that I really liked his squash soup recipe but it’s utterly disgusting.” He gagged and Sam punched him in the arm. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad, right?” He asked and everyone remained silent.

“Whatever, spin the bottle asshole.” Sam crossed his arms over his shoulders as Harry spun the bottle, landing on you.

“Oh god.” You blurted out and Harry replied “Oh god, indeed Y/N. Truth or dare?” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat and your fight or flight instinct immediately kicked in.

“Truth.” You spit out, and Harry just looked you dead in the eye and said “I dare you to tell everyone that you’re dating Tom behind my back and decided not to tell me about it, even though I trusted you completely and entirely.”

“I-I’m, um, not, well-” you stammered. Your vision was becoming blurry and you felt a panic attack coming on. Without warning you jumped up and ran out of the room.

“Okay I think he had that one rehearsed.” Tuwaine remarked, and the room became silent again. Everyone looked at Harry disapprovingly, and the tension in the room was so thick you could cut right through it.

“Why would you say that?” Harrison asked and Harry was silent. “How do you even know she’s dating Tom?”

“Was dating, we’re not together anymore.” Tom added and everyone looked at him.

“What?” Harry asked, and Tom replied, “You heard me, we’re not dating anymore. She broke up with me earlier because she knew it was wrong that we didn’t tell you. She felt so guilty about it that she tossed her happiness aside to make sure you would still be her friend. She chose you over me, and now I’m starting to think she may have regretted that decision.”

“I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I?” Harry whispered and everyone nodded their heads collectively.

“I’m afraid so.” Tom said quietly.

“I gotta go talk to her.” Harry got up and ran out of the living room. He sped walked around the house looking for you, until he found you sitting outside next to the chicken coop. You were sitting with your knees to your chest on a lawn chair, holding a blanket and looking at your phone.

He hesitantly stood at the glass doors, and cracked the door open. You looked up to see him standing there, and you averted your gaze away from him.

“Hey, can we talk please? I come in peace.” Harry said and you remained silent. He pulled up a chair next to you and sat down, and cleared his throat.

“Listen Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of everyone. I should’ve talked to you about it in private, and I’m sorry. I know that was a dick move, and I regret doing it.” His gaze was soft as he looked over at you, but you were avoiding his gaze, and pulling on a loose blanket string.

He sighed and continued to speak. “Tom said you broke up with him because you felt guilty for sneaking around. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak around, though. If he makes you really happy then I want what’s best for you. After all you’re my best friend, and I love you. And if your happiness means dating my brother then go for it, I genuinely mean it.”

You two sat there in silence for about a minute, until you finally spoke.

You knew?” You asked.

“Oh yeah, it was obvious.”

“What tipped you off?” You tilted your head slightly to look at him, and he met your gaze.

“When I came up behind you while we were baking cookies, I noticed you smelled faintly like Tom’s cologne, and how else would you smell like that if you weren’t constantly close enough to him?”

“Well, I also cuddle with you and Sam, so that’s not the best indicator.” You said flatly and he smirked.

“I also heard you two kissing outside at midnight. You were making right above my open bedroom window, of course I could hear you. Look, my bedroom window is right there.” He pointed upwards and you could clearly see his potted plant in the windowsill. “Also, Tom isn’t a silent lover if you know what I mean.” Harry lifted his brow as you began to choke. He patted your back as you tried to catch your breath, which resulted in him breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I should’ve asked you if it was alright that I dated Tom. I’m sorry I went behind your back.” You had your head low and Harry shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you have to sneak around, just to be happy. Do you like him?”

“Of course, I mean sure, he gets on my nerves,” you let out a small laugh, “but I really do like Tom. He makes me happy and I enjoy spending time with him.”

“Then you have my blessing.” He stood up and bowed dramatically.

“Are you sure, Harry? I mean I-”

“Little one, I want you to be happy, even if it means you dating my imbecile brother.” He laughed and you pulled him into a tight hug. “Thank you.” You whispered against his chest, and he whispered back “You’re welcome. Now go get your man.”

“I love you Harry.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Now go.” He ushered towards the door and you made your way back inside.

It didn’t take long to find Tom, who was sitting on his bed, eyes focused on his laptop. He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, and he shifted his gaze back to his laptop.

“Tommy?” You walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down. He continued to ignore you, and you felt as though you could cry.

“Please look at me? I’m sorry I broke up with you. I shouldn’t have and Harry said I have his blessing so that we-”

“Wait what did you say?” Tom cut you off, closing his laptop and sitting up. He scooted closer to you and put his hand on your knee.

“Harry said that he’s okay with us dating, so-.” You were cut off again by Tom crashing his lips onto yours. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, your chest flush with his. Breathless, you pulled away for a second, but Tom only pulled you in again.

“Are you mad-” you tried to speak but he cut you off yet again. “Don’t speak, okay? We’ll talk later. I just want you now.” You crashed your lips onto his, Tom moaning as he kissed you more passionately.

——

Mes petits anges (taglist): @scarletxwidow​ @starkissedholland​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @lmaotshollandd​ 

[awhitehead17]

Universal Signs

Chapter 22 / Previous Chapter

A/N: WARNINGS! A panic attack does occur, so be please be aware of that. Something else to be mindful of is that this chapter is FULL of emotions so be prepared, you've been warned!

Also on AO3

Please enjoy! :D

He feels numb.

Tim doesn’t think there’s any other way to describe what he’s feeling in that moment. Sad, disappointed, despondent, happy, elevated, excited. There's whole mixture of emotions stirring inside of him, so when they combine it leaves him overwhelmingly numb.

He doesn’t see the ship take off but he knows when it leaves, there’s a gentle thrum in the air and strong gust of wind that catches him. Tim can’t believe it’s all over, he can’t believe that he’s back on Earth, that he’s almost home. There’s so many thoughts running through his mind along with so many questions he wants to ask and need answers to.

Tim purposely got Kon to drop him off in some fields just outside of Gotham city. The fields are an open space so there’s plenty of room to park and it’s a pretty much abandoned area so it was less likely someone would see them. The main road leading into the city isn’t too far away from the fields either, Tim plans to get to the road and hitchhike back to the city, perhaps someone may offer him a lift out of pity.

Tim shoulders the bag he’s got and continues forward. It’s crazy to think that in the next hour or so he’ll be reunited with his family. What will that be like? To see them all again after who knows how long? Will they be happy to see him?

Before those thoughts could get too far Tim shakes his head and tries to move away from them. If he thinks about it too hard then it’ll become too much to handle. The last thing he wants to happen in that moment is to become too overwhelmed and have some kind of breakdown. He needs to keep it together, just for a little longer because he’s almost there, it’s so close to being over.

Tim makes it to the side of the road and observes the various of vehicles zooming by. When was the last time he saw a car or a truck? Not only that, but the smell of patrol coming from the vehicles too?

Moving his attention away from the vehicles Tim continues on walking down the road, seeing Gotham City far up ahead. It’s currently light out, if he had to guess it may currently be around mid-afternoon, if he walks the entire way back to the city then it would probably be evening by the time he reaches it.

As he travels towards the city it’s easy to get lost in his thoughts, both negative and positive, and it certainly keeps him occupied as he walks over the gravel of the road. It’s not until a car pulls up in front of him that he comes out of his head and back into the present. Tim stops and frowns when he sees it’s a cop car that’s pulled over. He holds his breath as the driver climbs out and makes their way over to him, Tim has no idea on what to expect here, he’s almost tempted to turn back around and run into the trees.

The cop, a man around his mid-thirties wearing a cap and a GCPD uniform, stops a few feet away from him. He’s looking at Tim with an expression showing concern and confusion. “Hey there pal, what are you doing out here?”

Tim knows that he means well, but he does sound a little patronizing.

“I need to get to Gotham City.” Tim tells him without answering his question. How the hell was he supposed to answer that question? I got dropped off by some aliens in a spaceship because I’ve been in space for who knows how long because I was kidnapped and now I’m on my way home. Yeah right.

The cop seems to get the message that Tim wasn’t going to answer the question, he simply nods his head. “Yeah okay, I can give you a lift back. I’m Officer Ryan Peterson.” The man holds up his badge and Tim takes a moment to study it before nodding. The cop puts it away, staring at Tim as if he’s studying him and Tim could only watch back wearily, feeling rather sceptical about this situation. In the end the cop simply frowns and asks, “Have I seen you before, have we met?”

Tim blinks at the unexpectedness of the question. He raises an eyebrow. “No sir, I can’t recall us meeting.” Just because he’s weary doesn’t mean he’s going to be an asshole about it.

“What’s your name pal?”

Tim hesitates before answering, unsure whether to be truthful about it or not. Revealing the truth could make this go two ways. He tells the truth and then the cop takes him home and he gets reunited with his family or the cop could kidnap him and hold him hostage or something. (He’s from a rich family, hostage situations are unfortunately known to happen.)

Eventually he decides to chance it and tell the truth. “My name is Tim Drake.”

The cop’s eyes widen in surprise. He blinks at Tim for a moment as if trying to remember how to speak. “Tim Drake? As in Tim Drake-Wayne, missing son of the Bruce Wayne?”

Tim’s eyes widen in surprise, the cop knows he’s missing, he knows Tim’s family. “Yeah that’s right! Can you take me home? Please.”

“Pal, you’ve been missing for a long time. You’re really alive? Everyone is going to be ecstatic that you’re alive.” The officer gestures him over, “c’mon, let’s get you home and back to your family.”

Without waiting Tim hurries over to the car and climbs into the passenger’s side as the cop climbs into the driver’s seat. He starts the car up and then they’re on the road heading towards Gotham within seconds.

The officer glances at him. “I’m going to need to call this in, I hope you don’t mind. Unfortunately I’ll have to take you to the station before I can take you home.”

Tim feels his heart drop at the news. He shakes his head, almost feeling desperate. “No please. I need to go home. I need to see my family. Please! Once I’m there we can deal with all the legal stuff. I just need to see them.”

Peterson sighs and Tim stares at him pleadingly. The man switches between looking at the road and glancing at him several times before he speaks up sounding resigned. “Okay, fine. How about a compromise? I’ll still call it in but I’ll take you straight home. That sound okay?”

Figuring that’s the best he’s going to get, Tim nods in agreement. The cop smiles and reaches over the dashboard to grab his radio and speaks into it.

“Sir I’ve found Tim Drake-Wayne… No sir, he’s currently sitting right next to me. I was coming back from outside the city and found a boy walking alongside the main road on his own. I pulled over and spoke to him, it’s Tim Drake-Wayne, he looks exactly like the photos too. On my way back, just entering the city now.

No sir, I’m taking him straight home. I know, but he needs to go home first. I’m sure we can deal with the paperwork tomorrow while he reunites with his family tonight. If your daughter were missing wouldn’t you immediately want to be reunited at the first opportunity? Exactly, I’ll take him home, please call Mr Wayne in the meantime and we can continue the case later on. Thank you sir, I will.”

The cop returns the radio back to its place and sends Tim a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that, really I should take you to the station where we can check you over, check your wellbeing, find out if you’re still in danger and sort paperwork out. We’ll have to definitely to discuss things with you and your family, but that can be at another time.

For now they’ll ring your dad and I’ll get you home. I’m assuming it’s the famous Wayne Manor correct?”

Tim nods and the cop goes quiet. As they travel through the city, Tim stares out of the window in disbelief. It feels like it’s been forever since he’s been in the city, it’s unreal. Eventually they break away from the city and head down a familiar road, as they drive closer and as the Manor comes into view Tim suddenly feels nauseated.

He’s excited and nervous and his stomach is going crazy. The feeling only heightens when they reach the gate to the Manor and Tim finds himself unable to look away. After all this time, he’s finally back. He’s finally home. A small part in the back of his mind comes up with the thought that this isn’t real, this isn’t happening, it’s like a dream and he’s going to wake up at any second.

The cop speaks into the intercom and soon enough the gates open up. Officer Peterson carefully drives through and follows the road up to the front of the Manor, as they approach Tim sees the doors open up. His breath catches in his throat as his family appear on the front steps. There’s Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason and Cass. There's another person that Tim doesn’t recognise but he doesn’t pay them much attention.

He’s brought out of his haze when Peterson speaks up next to him. Tim had forgotten where he is for a moment, completely absorbed into seeing his family for the first time in however long.

“You okay pal?” The cops asks sincerely. Tim could only stare at him. Silently blinking. “I know you’ve probably been through a lot and this is overwhelming but everything is okay now. You’re home safe and sound.”

Tim swallows thickly and in robotic movements he nods his head. He tells the copper thank you but barely registers the words as they leave his mouth. It isn’t until the cop gently encourages him that Tim finally moves to get out of the car.

Taking a deep breath Tim opens the door. As soon as his foot hits the ground it’s like he’s been unleashed, Tim shoots out the car and starts running up the stairs, taking two or three at the time, anything to get him closer to his family as soon as possible.

It’s about halfway up the staircase that he collides with someone, he isn’t even entirely sure who he’s hugging but he feels their arms around wrap around him, squeezing so hard that it hurts but Tim isn’t complaining. He wraps his own arms around their shoulders and clings back just as tightly.

After a few seconds he feels himself being moved, it’s only where he’s being picked up and lifted higher. Tim wraps his legs around the person’s torso and adjusts his arms so he’s now hugging their neck.

He isn’t even aware that he’s crying, doesn’t notice it until he has to breathe. He pulls his face away from where he buried it into the fabric covering the person’s shoulder. He takes a long shaky breath but finds he’s unable to control the tears streaming down his cheeks and the way his breath hitches as another sob breaks out of his throat.

There's a hand running up and down his back, a voice speaking unintelligible words into his ear, and the arms around him never loosen up.

After several long moments Tim attempts to get his breathing under control again. He moves away from the shoulder and looks up. Through blurry vision he finds Dick and Jason standing so close just opposite him, they’re watching him with open expressions. Seeing the two of them again makes him sob with uncontrolled happiness.

Tim glances to the side and finally works out that he’s in the arms of Bruce. His adoptive father has him wrapped up securely in a strong embrace.

He squeezes Bruce with his arms again and looks at him. “Bruce.”

Bruce pulls his own face away and he looks back at Tim, a wide relieved smile taking over his face. “Thanks the gods your back Tim. I was so worried. Thank god you’re okay.”

“I missed you.” Tim whispers he rests his head against Bruce’s shoulder again and continues on hugging him, unable to find it in himself to let go.

Eventually Bruce shifts, he begins to slowly drop Tim down to the ground, letting his legs fall from his waist until he’s standing steady on his feet. Tim reluctantly lets his father go, though Bruce must be feeling the same because he keeps a hand on Tim’s shoulder as they take a step apart.

Tim only gets a moment to himself before he’s being wrapped up in another pair of arms and this time he’s much quicker at recognising the person hugging him. Tim sighs as he feels Dick press him closely to his chest, his eldest brother’s arms wrapped firmly around his back and his head resting on top of Tim’s. Unable to help it, Tim sobs again. Overwhelmed by the strong onslaught of emotions.

The hug with Dick doesn’t last as long as it did with Bruce though its long enough for the two of them to be comforted. Once Tim leaves Dick’s arms he’s instantly being crushed by another pair, this time it being Jason’s.

Once he and Jason separate, Tim has a bit more control of himself. He’s continuously taking long deep breaths to try and compose himself, his brain still trying to wrap around the fact that he’s reunited with his family once again.

The next hug he receives is from his sister Cass. While she’s not as broad or built as the others, her hug is just as strong and means just as much. Their height is similar so Tim easily manages to press his head against hers and is able to wrap himself around her body more.

Once they separate Tim hugs Alfred. Seeing the elderly butler who’s practically a grandfather almost makes him break down again. He manages to control himself and is comforted by their hug, much gentler than the others but is just as soothing as the rest.

When they separate Tim takes a moment and wipes his eyes. He’s blinking at each of them as they all smile back. Tim can’t believe it. He’s finally home, back with his family once again.

As if he couldn’t help himself Bruce gets in his space again, his father wraps a single arm around his shoulders and tucks Tim into his side. Tim smiles and goes with it, finding the action reassuring and comforting. Bruce bends down and presses a kiss to Tim’s hair.

“Words cannot describe what I am feeling right now Tim.” Bruce tells him, his voice sounds thick with emotion and Tim could see some tears running down the man’s face. “I’m so happy you’re home.”

“Mr Wayne…”

The moment is interrupted by Officer Peterson who’s still around. Clearly he’s been giving them some space all of this time, if Tim’s being honest he had completely forgotten about the man.

The cop sends Bruce a sympathetic look as he begins to talk. “I know you want to spend time with your son and rejoice, but there are a couple things I need to discuss with you, like legal actions and what the near future will look like for you and your family.”

Bruce takes a deep breath and nods. “Of course. I understand. I want to thank you for bringing my son home.”

Peterson ducks his head. “No thanks needed Mr Wayne, I simply happened to be in the right place at the right time. I found Tim here walking alongside the main road just outside the city. There’s only a couple things I need to cover with you now but we can deal with the rest tomorrow.”

At that Bruce sends Tim a questioning look but doesn’t comment on it as he turns back to pay attention to the cop. Alfred also comes and stands beside them, taking in what was being said. Tim probably ought to pay attention as well because it’s clearly about him but he finds himself not able to. His attention is diverted when Dick appears in front of him and gently tugs him away from Bruce’s side.

Tim now finds himself in front of his siblings and for the first time he takes in their appearances. Dick and Jason both look slightly older, they both look broader too, like they’ve been frequently working out. Their hair styles have stayed the same, at best Dick’s looks a little longer down the back.

Cass appears to be the same as before too. Maybe the only noticeable difference is the way she carries herself, she seems like she’s much more comfortable and confident now.

Something that gets his attention, something that stops him in his tracks for the first time since opening that car door is when he makes eye contact with someone he doesn’t know.

This person seems to be a young teenager, he’s slim, slightly shorter than Tim, has black hair, an olive skin tone. There’s something familiar about him but Tim can’t pinpoint what it is. He knows he’s never met this kid before. The main question is however, what he doing here? He’s been lingering around at the back of the group like he’s not sure on what to do with himself, but he steadily meets Tim’s eyes with a confidence Tim hadn’t been expecting.

The others seem to have finally clicked that the two have noticed each other because his siblings shift about, creating some kind of circle between them all. Dick stands just to the right of the kid and places his hand on his shoulder.

Dick looks at Tim, watching him cautiously. His expression puts Tim on edge, he has no idea on what kind of news he’s about to receive. Who is this kid? They’re obviously all familiar with one another which leads to another question of how long has he been around for? Tim certainly didn’t meet him before disappearing.

“Tim.” Dick gets his attention. His eldest brother now looks almost uncomfortable. “This is Damian. Um, he’s uh, he’s - Damian is Bruce’s biological son.”

Tim blinks. He opens his mouth to say something but quickly shuts it again. Did Dick just say that Bruce has a biological son? As in his adoptive father has a teenage kid that he didn’t know about? He has another brother he was never aware of?

He’s stunned. Upon returning home that is certainly something he never expected to find out. How long has he been gone for!

“None of us knew about Damian.” Jason states firmly while frowning. It’s like he could read Tim’s mind, knowing what he’s thinking. “Bruce didn’t even know himself. Damian was dropped on the doorstep by his mother over a year ago where she left him with no explanations or anything of the sort. It’s like she had enough of Damian and decided to dump him on Bruce.”

As if the news of finding out that Bruce has a biological son wasn’t enough to rock his boat Jason dropping that bomb completely capsizes the boat. Tim feels himself freeze. He blinks at his brother trying to comprehend what he just heard.

“A year ago?” Tim repeats in disbelief. “He’s been around for a year? I’ve been gone for a year!” Tim can’t control the way his voice gets higher.

All of his sibling’s eyes widen at that before a look of sympathy, confusion and sadness washes over them. The change in emotions make Tim feel like he’s missing something else. “What? Don’t tell me there’s another kid or something...”

Dick steps forward and places a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him but all Tim feels is dread. The action isn’t like what Bruce had done earlier, it feels like Dick is about to deliver some grave news.

“Tim… you’ve been gone for two and a half years.”

Everything stops. No one moves a muscle as Tim just stares back in complete astonishment. That can’t be true…can it?

“Two years… two and a half years… I’ve been gone for two and a half years,” he mumbles underneath his breath trying to understand that information. As he tries to wrap his head around that his chest suddenly tightens and he finds himself unable to breathe. He gasps for air, clutching at his chest. “I can’t breathe. I-I can’t breathe.”

Everything around him blurs and all Tim can focus on is the pain inside his chest. Why can’t he breathe? Two years! He’s been gone for two fucking years? That’s practically three years of his life he’s lost!

His chest is burning now and he thinks he’s crying? At least that is what comes to mind when he feels wetness running down his cheeks. It’s hard to tell at this point.

Something gets his attention. There’s pressure somewhere on his body. He doesn’t know what it is but tries to reach out to it. The pressure moves and his hands are grabbed, Tim clings onto it. Finding the sensation grounding. He still can’t breathe but it’s something.

His hands are moved and now he’s touching something solid, something that’s steadily moving up and down. As well as the pressure Tim tries to focus on it, tries to keep his attention on the movement, it’s surprising when his head starts becoming a little clearer as he focuses on the steady rise and fall of whatever it is.

“Follow my breathing Tim, in and out. Tim can you do that for me, breathe in and breathe out.”

Right, right, breathing… he still can’t breathe, his chest hurts… why can’t he breathe…

“Tim follow my breathing, slowly in and out… copy my movements son…”

Tim’s trying to. The words are telling him to follow the movements and he does try but it’s difficult. As the object rises Tim breathes in and as it falls Tim breathes out. It takes a while but gradually Tim finds as the tightness in his chest eases he’s able to breathe easier.

He takes in one more deep breath before opening his eyes and looking around. In his mind it takes a moment for everything to register. He’s sat on the floor, curled up against someone’s side with his hands stretched out resting on that same person’s stomach.

His chest feels sore as does his head and everything feels a little fuzzy. After a minute he realises that he had a panic attack, a pretty bad one too.

“Tim?”

Tim looks up and finds that it’s Bruce who he’s resting against. Taking another breath Tim pushes himself away from Bruce and sits up. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry I just … yeah.”

Bruce doesn’t comment on what happened and Tim is grateful for that. Instead his adoptive father keeps him sat on the ground for a while, making sure he’s okay before helping him to stand up, and then offering him some support when Tim wobbles.

Tim glances around to find Officer Peterson is still around, looking at Tim with a frown, Dick is hovering just behind Bruce and Jason is up at the top of the stairs overlooking them all. Cass, Alfred and Damian aren’t anywhere to be seen.

“Why don’t we go inside and get some rest? There's been a lot to handle recently.”

Tim nods at Bruce’s suggestion. He feels exhausted. Everything from the overwhelming sensations of leaving the others to being reunited with his family and then experiencing a panic attack has really worn on him.

Bruce says something to the cop and then turns his attention to Tim, together they make their way up the stairs with Dick beside them and Jason watching them approach. Together the four of them enter Wayne Manor.

Tim wishes he’s more with it. He hasn’t seen the place in a long time and wants to appreciate being back home but he’s just too tired to take in all the details. Thankfully Bruce seems to pick up on this, his adoptive father begins to guide him towards the stairs which lead up to where the bedrooms are located.

“Why don’t we get some sleep? We can properly talk once you’re all rested up.”

Time passes in a blur and the next thing Tim is aware of is being tucked into a bed. A soft warm blanket is laid on top of him, a light pressure of a kiss is pressed against his hair and then everything fades away into nothing.

Everything is groggy when Tim wakes up. His head is pounding and he feels exhausted despite just having woken up.

He grips the blanket around him tighter and buries his head deeper into the pillow he’s lying on not wanting to face whatever is going to be thrown his way that day. They’ve been stationed on Krypton for several days so Tim doesn’t think they’ll be leaving any time soon and with the other’s punishments, there’s not a lot they can do. Maybe they’ll look into doing some training that day?

Settling his thoughts Tim takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the pillow as he does so and freezes. Why does it smell so familiar? Is his mind making things up or…

Tim shoots up right on the bed and wildly looks around, taking in his surroundings. It takes a moment for it all to sink in and when it does he slumps aback against the headboard of the bed he’s on.

He’s home. It wasn’t a dream. He really did return to Earth and reunite with his family. How did he forget that?

He’s in one of the guest’s bedrooms in the Manor. The walls and décor are all neutral colours, making it seem open and warm, there were beams of light peaking out of the drawn curtains across the windows.

Tim doesn’t know how to feel about not being in his personal bedroom, obviously they’ve put him in here on purpose. Did they still have his room or did they clear it all out when he disappeared? Tim’s not sure and in that moment he’s not sure if he wants to know.

When he glances around the room again, this time his eyes land on a pile of clothes placed on the desk opposite the bed. Upon seeing those Tim realises he’s still dressed in the clothes he wore back from the ship and realises that he desperately wants a shower. The bag he brought from the ship is there too, sitting on the ground unopened. The policeman must have passed it over to someone and they’ve then brought it in.

Grabbing the clean clothes Tim heads for the ensuite attached to the guest bedroom. It’s an open bathroom with plenty of space and Tim wastes no time in starting the shower up.

He only pauses once he’s taken off the shirt and sees the necklace hanging from around his neck. Tim had forgotten about it. It was the gift Doctor Fate had given him when he sorted out Cassie’s enchanted bracelets. Tim studies it closely, seeing the red gemstone glisten brightly when the light hits it. It’s supposedly a cloaking device but Tim doesn’t know how much he believes that, then again does he have a reason to not trust it?

Deciding to not think about it too much, Tim leaves it on, he then proceeds to take off the rest of his clothes and jumps into the shower.

Once Tim is done with his shower, now feeling clean and refreshed, he heads down to the kitchen. Tim takes his time to get there though, he travels at a slow pace as he takes in the feel for being back at home, seeing the corridors of the Manor that he grew up in and remembering everything that’s occurred in them.

When Tim arrives at the kitchen he finds it occupied by Jason and Alfred. Jason is sat at the kitchen island eating something and playing on his phone while Alfred is by the sink scrubbing dishes.

“Look who’s finally decided to get up.” Jason comments smirking at him as he walks into the room. “We thought you were going to end up sleeping all day.”

Taking a seat next to Jason, Tim frowns. “What do you mean? How long have I been asleep for?”

“About 16 hours. It’s nearly lunch time, you’ve been asleep since yesterday evening.”

Tim blinks. He’s both surprised and not by that news. He must have really needed to rest and recharge to be asleep that long.

“How about some food Master Timothy? You must be feeling rather famished at this point.” Alfred asks observing him from the other side of the room.

Tim freezes when he hears Alfred voice, or rather at the words he said. Master. That’s what he used to call Ra’s Al Ghul when he was first kidnapped. Will he be able to handle hearing it again, and not only that but being called that even in a different context?

“Tim?”

Tim snaps his gaze to the side to find Jason wearily watching him. Tim looks at him for a moment before he realises he had zoned out and still needs to answer Alfred. He looks over at the butler, “Uh sorry, yes please to food Alfred. If you don’t mind.”

Alfred studies him for a moment but doesn’t comment on his behaviour, instead he smiles and starts preparing Tim some food. Tim glances down at fiddles with his fingers anxiously, he’ll need to talk to Alfred about that. Hopefully the butler won’t get offended with Tim asking him to stop, but Tim doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to handle the reminder all the time.

A tense silence fills the kitchen and it makes Tim feel guilty. He doesn’t mean to put Alfred and Jason in an awkward position but he’s grateful that neither of them ask him any questions about anything.

In the end Tim turns and faces Jason who’s still on his phone. Tim stares at it for a long time, taking in the difference from this phone and the one he remembers. It makes him realise that this is just one of many things he’s missed in his two and a half years away.

“How have you been Jason?” Tim asks his brother. He knows a lot of attention will be focused on him but he wants to reconnect with his family too. He wistfully wonders what things he’s missed in his sibling’s lives (beside Damian, that’s an entirely different matter altogether).

Jason side eyes him, pursing his lips as if debating on what to tell Tim. “Up and down.” He says in the end. Tim almost rolls his eyes at the vague answer. “I finished my qualification.”

Tim perks up at hearing that. “Oh really, congrats! So what are you doing now work wise?”

As they discuss Jason’s work, Alfred drops a sandwich in front of Tim and leaves them be. It takes all of Tim’s effort to split his attention between listening to Jason and not being overwhelmed by the sandwich. When was the last time he had normal human food?

They talk for a while, changing from topic to topic but stay away from anything big and heavy. Tim finds out, that other than Damian, thankfully nothing major has changed in anyone’s lives. There’s been job changes and a few family arguments but nothing life changing to say. Tim is relieved to find this out. There's a few things worldwide that he’s missed but Jason’s told him that he can catch up with all that later on, it’s nothing to really fret about.

Their conversation is interrupted when Bruce and Dick enter the kitchen. They’re pleased to see that he’s awake and ask about how he’s feeling while both giving him a hug. Tim soaks in the attention, not minding it at all, and is yet again relieved to find that they don’t ask him any major questions.

However that relief instantly vanishes when Bruce sceptically asks Tim is he’s willing to talk to the police so they could clear some stuff up. Tim freezes, unsure on what to do. In the back of his mind he knew that he would need to talk to the police but he knows that they’ll be asking questions which he doesn’t think he’s ready to answer yet.

In the end he agrees to do it, he goes with Bruce and Dick and they take him to the library where two policemen are waiting. There's the cop from yesterday and the commissioner.

Tim doesn’t tell them anything. After an internal debate on what to do, he refuses to speak about anything that’s happened to him. He doesn’t say where he’s been, who (and what) he’s encountered and nothing about how he returned home. The only information he gives is how he knows he’s no longer in danger, nor is his family, from those who originally took him.

Of course Tim can’t guarantee it but there’s no way he’s saying that Earth may or may not be attacked by some alien assassins. He doesn’t think that’ll go down well.

The police prod him for more details but Tim doesn’t budge on it. Eventually they give in and say they’re only a phone call away when he does want to share more. Bruce sees them out after that while Dick stays behind with Tim.

During the entire conversation Tim could feel Dick watching him, his brother’s concerned gaze never once leaving him the entire time. Tim would snap at him for staring if it were different circumstances. Dick gets up from the chair he’s been sat on and approaches Tim on the opposite couch. His brother crouches down in front of him and places a gentle hand on Tim’s knee, rubbing it soothingly.

“Tim, I know that there’s a lot going on inside your mind and that’s completely understandable, I also get why you may not want to talk to the police but I want you to know if you ever, and I mean it, if you ever want to talk about what happened then I’m happy to listen. I won’t judge, I won’t ask questions, all I’ll do is listen. Please don’t shut us out, you’re not alone, we’re all here for you okay.”

Hearing Dick talk, Tim feels his emotions building up inside of his chest. He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to control himself. Opening his eyes back up Tim looks up and meets Dick’s. “Thank you Dick. I’m – I’m just not ready yet. I don’t know when I will be either. There’s so much I need to catch up on, so much that I’ve missed both in our family and around the world. I know you’re there for me no matter what.”

Opposite him Dick looks tearful and Tim feels bad for making Dick like that. Without thinking about it Tim stands up, encouraging Dick to do the same, before he’s giving his brother a hug. Dick instantly hugs him back, resting his head on top of Tim’s.

“I missed you Timmy. Everyday.”

“I missed you too. I never stopped thinking about you from the moment we got separated.”

They only break apart when Bruce enters the room, laughing lightly as they do so. Now alone away from the police, Bruce tells Tim pretty much what Dick said to him. If he wants to talk then he would listen no matter what. Obviously Bruce would like to know the details but he’s not going to force Tim into talking before he’s ready too. Tim appreciates this and politely tells Bruce what he told Dick.

After that the three of them spend a few hours together. As Tim had done with Jason, he gets updates on Bruce and Dick’s personal lives. Other than Damian appearing, nothing major has happened. Dick got a couple work promotions and Bruce’s company currently has the highest numbers it’s ever gotten which is impressive.

Following their catch up, Tim retreats back to the guest room he woke up in. He hasn’t yet found out the current status of his bedroom but Tim figures that he isn’t in that much of a rush to do so.

He crashes onto the bed and buries his face into the pillow. He hasn’t done much that day but he feels exhausted. It’s still sinking in that he’s returned home, he’s back with his family and no longer in imminent danger all the time.

Tim thinks about everything, his thoughts reeling all over the place. He had refused to talk to the police about what happened, not budging in the slightest to give them any details on what happened to him. Tim hadn’t been lying when he said he isn’t ready to talk yet, he needs time to comprehend everything and then he needs to decide if he going to actually come out with the truth  or make up a cover story.

What are the chances his family and the police are going to believe he got kidnapped by aliens? If it didn’t happen to Tim he certainly wouldn’t believe it. They would end up thinking he’s cracked and try to send him to therapy or even ship him to an insane asylum like Arkham.

He could always try telling them half of the truth? Isn’t there a saying along the lines of “the best lies are half-truths”. Tim could pick out areas of what he’s been through but simply leave out details, like the biggest detail being that it all occurred in space.

Tim lets out a groan, he doesn’t know what to do!

For the next few days Tim feels like a ghost. He floats around the Manor not entirely sure on what to do with himself. His family are tiptoeing around him as if the smallest of things may trigger him off, it leaves Tim feeling agitated and frustrated.

On the most part Tim feels fine. Physically he’s okay, just slightly underweight but Alfred is working with him to get him eating regularly again which includes a variety of foods and supplements that he needs to function.

Mentally though is a little bit questionable. Tim knows on the most part he’s okay however there is a bout of paranoia coursing through him, anxiety often comes and goes, he gets flashbacks at random intervals which leaves him feeling disorientated, nightmares happen each night and he often loses track of time (mostly because he forgets he can now actually track it again by using clocks).

More often than not he’s with a family member, they certainly don’t want to leave him on his own nor be too far away from him, so a lot of his time is occupied but those times when he’s not with someone Tim has to try and find something to do. His siblings have taken it upon themselves to write him a list of things he's missed and needs to catch up on so Tim spends a good amount of time browsing the internet researching those things. It ranges from political news to the most recent meme.

Throughout this it doesn’t help that the main thing on his mind is whether he should tell everyone the truth or not. It’s like he’s carrying a massive weight on his shoulders and it’s heavily weighing him down. Thankfully none of them have yet pushed him to talk but Tim can tell they’re itching to ask, it’s only so long until they break their restraint. Tim still hasn’t decided what to do.

At one point, several days after arriving home, Tim is aimlessly wondering the halls of the Manor, taking in all the details he remembers and picks up on anything new that has been added in his absence.

In one particular hallway Tim comes across a painting, it’s a family portrait and looks like it’s been done fairly recently. The picture is of Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Cass. They’re dressed up in formal attire, like something they all would wear to a gala. The men are suits made of different shades of grey with different coloured shirts and ties while Cass is in a simple black dress, it’s plain but it suits her and she pulls it off fantastically.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there staring at the picture, it’s very well painted, uniquely capturing all of their features and the details of their clothing, it’s so good that it could pass as a photograph rather than a painting.

“This took seven weeks to complete. I gifted it to father as a present for his birthday.”

Tim shits his pants when a voice speaks up. He startles badly and snaps his head to the side to find Damian standing nearby looking at him. Tim takes a deep breath and tries to settle his pounding heart. “Jesus christ, don’t do that!”

Damian stares back unimpressed. After a moment his words catch up to Tim and his eyes widen, he glances between the painting and Damian. “You painted this? Holy shit that’s incredible.”

“Thank you Timothy. I was unsure on what to gift father and Richard suggested to do something personal. Father was pleased with it.”

Tim nods still blown away by the apparent talent this kid has. “I can imagine.”

They stand there together silently in the corridor and Tim takes a moment to study Damian. Finding out Damian’s existence had been a shock, one of the two biggest ones upon returning home, and Tim didn’t know how to approach it. He hasn’t spoken to Damian at all since coming back, this in fact has been their first conversation.

Being around the teenager feels off but Tim figures that’s because he doesn’t know him, he isn’t familiar with his presence in the manor and in the family. Tim is still adjusting to being back so there’s already a lot on his plate and this just adds to it.

Tim is aware of Damian’s story, the others have caught him up on it. None of them had been expecting it, even Bruce didn’t know about the kid, so Tim couldn’t be annoyed at that. He still feels off about it though, but deep down he knows he’ll adjust to having Damian around just like all the others had done.

“I was on my way to the library, would you like to accompany me?” Damian asks breaking the silence between them.

Tim blinks, surprised at the offer but nods. “Sure, I’m not doing anything.”

Together they quietly make their way to the library. Being with Damian is different, it doesn’t feel like the kid is itching to ask him a million questions on what happened to him, it’s like he’s content to just let Tim be and Tim finds that refreshing. However it does add more to his conflicting emotions about the kid.

They enter the room and take separate couches. Damian grabs a book from the side while Tim simply plonks down onto a cushion not bothering with anything.

“You had been gone a year when I arrived here. Despite it being that long they never stopped searching for you. Father had private investigators on speed dial, he would jump every time someone called, every event the Wayne’s attended father would plead for your return.”

Tim feels himself stop and he looks at the kid who is only focused on the book in his lap.

“I admit at first I had been jealous of you Timothy. Even though you had not been here you still occupied so much of father’s mind. As that all happened it was Richard who taught me what it is like to be part of the family, who taught me to accept and to care. I hadn’t been an easy addition, I see that now, but we all found common ground in the end. As time went by the search never ended, the hope of you returning was always there.”

At Damian’s words Tim could feel himself welling up. Just hearing that they never stopped looking for him was nearly enough to send him over the edge. He hadn’t even been on Earth but they never stopped looking.

Tim buries his face in his hands and takes a few shaky breaths to collect himself together. He doesn’t know why Damian is telling him these things but he finds that he appreciates it. Damian hadn’t been there when it first happened, he’ll see the whole situation from a different perspective.

That’s enough for Tim to solidify that he wants to get to know Damian. The honesty at the start and the way he opened up about his arrival is enough to convince Tim.

Eventually he drops his hands and glances at Damian. “I’m sorry that’s how your introduction to the family went, it couldn’t have been easy. By the sounds of it, you’ve already been through a lot of character progression and I would like to get to know you. I already know that you can paint, what else do you like to do?”

They talk for a couple hours and Tim finds it interesting. The two of them in fact have very little in common and there’s a clear line where it’s kind of awkward for both of them but Tim does enjoy getting to know the kid. They don’t have to like one another straight away, but this is a good steppingstone, at least that’s what Tim thinks.

Apparently Dick must have similar thoughts because of the proud and pleased grin he sends the two of them when he walks in on their conversation hours later.

Each day is different as it passes by. There are good days and there are bad days. The good days are when Tim’s feeling content and adjusted to being back home. The bad days are when everything comes crashing down on him, the anxiety, the disorientation and even paranoia become too overwhelming for him to handle.

Nightmares are common too, unfortunately Tim has the feeling that they won’t be going away any time soon. They mostly consist of flashbacks of what happened when he had been trapped with Ra’s Al Ghul, mainly of all the torment and torture he had endured.

He knows that his family are concerned and how they’re getting more worried each day, Tim’s even overheard Bruce say to Alfred about getting him to go see a doctor or a therapist. It annoys Tim that Bruce has suggested it but at the same time he understands the reason behind it.

Another mental barrier Tim is facing is focused on his old bedroom. Since returning Tim’s been based in the guest bedroom, it’s quickly becoming his permanent one because he can’t find it in himself to go back to his old one. According to his family his old room hasn’t been touched, meaning it’s the exact same as it had been the day he was kidnapped. Tim finds himself unable to go into the room, it’s like he’ll be forced to remember the Tim that was kidnapped and realise that’s not the same Tim who has returned. He’s different now than to what he was almost three years ago.

It’s been about a week and a half since his return now and Tim still hasn’t spoken about what happened to him, he still refuses to answer any sort of question about his kidnapping and disappearance. Tim’s aware that it isn’t healthy to keep it all bottled up inside but he hasn’t yet decided on whether he’s going to tell them the truth or not. It’s a constant debate he has with himself, even going as far as making a pros and cons list to help him decide on what to do.

It’s only when Jason accidently walks in on him while shirtless that Tim realises he can’t continue with the silence anymore. He finally cracks under the weight of the secrets he’s been hiding from everyone.

After coming out of the shower, Tim had only been dressed in a towel which was wrapped around his waist. Typically he forgot to take clothes into the bathroom with him but he didn’t think of it too much as an issue considering it’s an ensuite. As he had been getting his clothes out to wear for the day, his bedroom door swings open without warning and Jason comes striding in like he owns the place.

Tim is livid at the audacity Jason has to just stroll into his bedroom like that, thank god he had a towel on or else it’ll be extremely embarrassing for both parties involved. Tim turns to scald his brother but stops short when he finds Jason frozen in place staring at him with wide eyes and a horrified expression.

Tim frowns, not understanding Jason’s behaviour. Surely it’s not that much of a shock to see him half naked? Sure he’s not muscular, but its only pale skin on show so what else could there be…

It’s embarrassing how long it takes for it to click and once it does it’s Tim’s turn to be horrified. He feels his heart drop and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

The scars.

Jason’s just seen all of the scars on his back. All the ones he’s received from the torture he’s endured, where the healing cream had helped close the wounds but left scars behind nonetheless.

The two of them stand there staring at one another for a long time, neither of them moving or saying anything. Tim doesn’t know whether he wants to run and hide or break down crying. How the hell was he supposed to explain the scars? Jason wasn’t supposed to see them, no one was! What’s he going to do?

“Hey Jason, did you ask Tim – what are you guys doing?” Dick’s voice breaks the two of them out of the weird trance they had fallen into. The eldest of the three had come to the room to find out what had been taking Jason so long to ask Tim a question and finds them having a stare off while Tim is undressed.

With no explanations Jason spins around, grabs the front of Dick’s t-shirt and yanks him into the bedroom and slams the door shut behind him. Dick stumbles in and glares at Jason, he crosses his arms over his chest and silently demands for an explanation.

Jason glares back before pining Tim with a look. “Tim turn around.”

Tim continues to stare at Jason in horror, his eyes would occasionally flicker to Dick in the same response. Tim doesn’t know what to do. Both of his brothers are looking at him expectantly, Jason with fire and concern in his eyes and Dick with confusion and worry.

In the end Tim thickly swallows and slowly turns around so his back is to his brothers. He takes controlling breaths to help ground him as the scars are displayed, he ignores the soft gasp that emits from Dick.

After counting to thirty Tim moves again and shoves a jumper on wanting to hide his back from sight. He quickly dresses into some sweatpants too, there’s no way he’s about to have this conversation half naked and dressed in a towel.

The room is filled with a heavy silence and Tim feels vulnerable. He hates it. Jason and Dick are staring at him with pity in their eyes along with concern, anger and genuine sadness. It’s crazy to think that Tim can still read his brothers well even after years apart.

“Tim,” Jason sighs, he runs a hand over his head before settling into a tight posture with his arms crossed over his chest, “we have been ignoring the elephant in the room since you’ve returned out of respect for you and I think it’s time that we finally ask. What the hell happened to you while you were gone Tim? Those scars man… what the fuck?”

Tim slumps onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard. Jason stays standing while Dick lowers himself onto the opposite end of the mattress.

In that moment Tim knew he couldn’t hold it back anymore. One moment to the next, everything spills out of Tim’s mouth. It’s like a dam has been broken and all the water is gushing out.

Tim tells them everything.

He describes being taken from Earth and waking up strapped to a table, to becoming a slave, how he escaped, how he was saved and looked after and the crazy adventures he ended up being part of. He talks about the aliens and creatures he encountered, the different planets he visited, how he was injured, how he was kidnapped again, how he was tortured followed by being rescued a second time, how he spent days recovering with the others and finally how he returned home.

There are details he missed of course, his mind is in too much of a frenzy to remember everything but he thinks he covers the majority of it. By the end of his story, Dick is hugging him tightly and Jason is sat on the end of the bed. Tears were running down his face, Dick is in the same boat and opposite him Jason appears to be impassive.

Tim sobs into Dick’s chest, holding him tightly as everything comes out. So many emotions coming together and erupting as a noisy and snotty mess.

It takes some time but eventually Tim calms down and wipes his face with his sleeve as he pushes away from Dick. He leans back against the headboard and fiddles with his sleeve.

“So there, that’s what happened to me.” Tim bites out, feeling rather bitter. “Are you finally happy to know? Call me crazy, call me insane because aliens don’t exist or whatever but that’s the truth. Take it or leave it. Those scars are the result of what I have had to endure.”

His brothers remain quiet for a long time, he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He doesn’t push for them to talk however, there’s a lot of information to understand and that’s even if they believe it.

“So aliens took you…” Dick drawls out, looking kind of constipated, “did you ever find out why?”

Tim shakes his head. “Not really. Apparently the one who took me just thought I was interesting or something. Out of the billions of humans there are and he chooses me.” He laughs in disbelief.

“What if he takes you again?” Jason questions suspiciously.

At this point Tim doesn’t know if they’re simply humouring him or if they genuinely believe everything he just told them. Either way he answers their questions the best he could. “Hopefully that won’t happen. I got given this gem, it’s supposedly a cloaking device, as long as I wear it I’m hidden from the League so they can’t track me.”

They fall into silence again and Tim sits there waiting for more questions, or even a disbelieving laugh. When nothing comes Tim frowns and glances at his brothers. “Do you believe me?”

Dick sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “Its certainly a lot to comprehend but I don’t think you would make all of that up. Also it kind of explains why we never found you. You weren’t even on the planet, of course no one would be able find you.”

“That day Tim,” Jason starts, his voice sounds think and he looks haunted, “that day was awful. I don’t even think there’s a word to describe what that day was like really. Turning away just for a moment and then looking back to find you gone…”

It shatters Tim’s heart to see his normally strong-willed brother breaking down. Unable to help himself Tim crawls across the bed and throws his arms around Jason’s neck, capturing him in a hug. His brother doesn’t cry but he hugs back, squeezing Tim tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispers brokenly, feeling his own emotions rising again, “I’m so sorry you both had to go through that. Every day I thought about what you two had to go through, me disappearing like that, and it was horrendous. I’m so sorry.”

A hand appears on Tim’s back, making him look away from Jason. Dick has moved closer, rubbing a comforting hand across his back. Dick has tears in his eyes again and when he speaks his voice is hoarse with emotion. “It’s okay Timmy, it’s not your fault. We never blamed you. It’s never been your fault. You’re here now right, we got you back, that’s all that matters.”

Tim nods and swallows the bubble that’s formed in his throat. Doing his best to keep control of his emotions, Tim smiles sadly. “Yeah. I’m back. I’m not okay, but I will be.”

He pulls away from Jason and the man wipes his eyes, still stubbornly refusing to cry. Tim snorts softly, he’s pleased to find Jason hasn’t changed all that much. The man looks up, glancing between him and Dick. “So what do you want to do? Do you want to tell Bruce everything you told us or stay quiet about it? Since you were taken by aliens - what the fuck is all that about – the police can’t exactly do anything. They’re still going to want a statement or some shit.”

Tim shakes his head in denial. “No. I don’t want to tell Bruce, at least not yet. Look I know how it sounds, its crazy, the whole thing is just bananas. I don’t know if Bruce will believe it or not and we’re absolutely not telling the authorities! They’ll just straight up send me to a therapist or an asylum.”

Dick and Jason both blink at him and Tim glares back. “I am not going to see a therapist, no matter how much you think I need to. End of discussion.”

His brothers hum and Tim knows that they’ll be revisiting that topic at a later date despite his protests. He decides to ignore it for now, he’ll deal with it when that bridge comes around.

“I will tell him, I promise,” Tim sighs, “Just let me adjust being back home and everything then I’ll tell him. Please don’t tell him, or anyone else.”

They both stare at him for a long time before they look at each other, and even though Tim’s been away for a long time he can still recognise the “over-protective older brothers” looks and silent conversation. Tim pouts, not liking he can’t tell what they’re thinking, he just knows its about him.

They turn back to him a moment later. “We won’t tell anyone, however you have to come to one of us any time there’s some kind of issue or you need someone to talk to about anything.”

Tim sends them a glare, he’s practically being blackmailed for their silence. Huffing Tim throws his arms up dramatically. “Okay fine, I’ll talk to one of you. You both know now anyway, it’ll make it slightly easier to deal with.”

They send him matching smug grins. “Glad to hear it.”

“So I know that you’ve been through some pretty horrific stuff, but there sounds like there was some positive stuff too.” Dick comments sounding intrigued. “What was that team like who saved you? What planets did you visit, how different is space life compared to Earth?”

Tim smiles, now these were the kind of questions he actually doesn’t mind answering. It’s going to be great that he can excitedly tell someone about how mind blowing being in space was, of course ignoring all the bad stuff that happened in between.

Things weren’t perfect, far from it but he’s home, he’s back with his family and he has a group of aliens to thank for that. Tim knows its going to take a while to adjust and settle back into human life, if he ever settles at all, but he gets to live his life knowing something that only others ever dream about.

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 46

The truth begins to be untold, from multiple perspectives.

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Actress!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: fluff, angst, slow burn, strangers to friends to ??? I honestly don’t know what this counts as anymore

Warnings: Strong language

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You can’t breathe for several seconds. You feel yourself begin to tremble, and Wonho must feel it too, because he places a protective hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?”

For a moment, the club swims before you. No. No. You’re not letting her win, not again. With enormous effort, you summon that numbness once more, letting it settle over you. In a single moment, you adjust your posture and expression, and although your throat feels like it’s about to close up, you don’t allow your voice to change. You’re an actress, after all. “Good to see you’re having fun,” you tell Yoongi cooly, ignoring Seoyeon. The redhead’s eyes narrow at your obvious disinterest. Yoongi’s gaze sweeps between you and Wonho, who’s glistening with sweat from dancing. Wonho’s mesh top is sticking to his defined abs.

“Looks like you are too,” Yoongi replies quietly. His brows knit together and his eyes search yours, almost pleading –

He can’t do this to me. It’s not fair. And you can’t keep your voice steady much longer. You take a long pull of your drink.

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon whines.

“Hyung!” Out of nowhere, Hoseok breaks through the crowd, looking wildly between you and Yoongi. “Ha… I-I didn’t know you’d be here!” He says through a too-wide smile. 

Still looking at you, Yoongi jerks his head toward Seoyeon, who continues clinging to him. You notice Hoseok twitch. 

Without breaking eye contact with Yoongi, you reach up and rest your hand on Wonho’s, who’s still holding your shoulder. “Wonho, I’m going to BTS’s private room. Hoseok, is it okay if Wonho comes with?”

“Of course.” 

Wonho seems confused, but – bless him – he goes along with you as you turn your back on Seoyeon… and Yoongi. 

“So! Tell me about your mixtape, how’s that going?” You hear Hoseok shout over the music as you lead Wonho away. By the time you finally shut the door, closing yourself off from the club, you feel like the night has lasted for far longer than a few songs. 

The other members have disappeared, surely out on the dance floor or by the bar. Coats are strewn on the couch and chairs, and you can spot several empty bottles of soju on the counter.

‘Hey… you okay?” Wonho asks, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you answer too quickly. 

“Want to talk about it?”

For a moment, just a moment, you consider telling him everything: about Lisa, missing and possibly dead. About Xiumin, who proved that you really couldn’t trust anyone. About Yoongi, whose betrayal hurt you more than any real boyfriend could. About Seoyeon, how she and her cronies followed you out of the hospital. About that night, the shove, the blood, the walk, the cold. About the photo, and how it ruined your lamppost meetings with Yoongi forever. You could tell him about how you found Seoyeon’s picture on Lisa’s laptop, making you fear the worst. 

Or the relentless cyberbullying. Would Wonho understand? You reach up, rubbing your thumb against the Starry Night pendant. Your situation is comically unique – would anyone understand? You’re stronger now, yes, but what does your strength mean if Lisa is gone forever and Yoongi is dating your attacker?

Your phone buzzes. Finally, is it the contract from FYP Entertainment? 

@mrsminnie<3: Guys! I made a poll, vote who u think Yoongi is better with- @seoyeonnielovesbts vs @yourname!

@jjksaysfuck: WHY does @yourname still think she’s relevant? Suga BROKE UP WITH HER lollll her career is #deadinthewater

@captainkookie21: @jjksaysfuck kinda like @yourname soon ;) #SUGA belongs to ARMYs! You’ll see ^-^

@streamDIEnamite03: Ok but like,,,, did anyone see that commercial with @WONHO and @yourname??? That was spicy 0_0

“Y/n?”

“Oh, sorry!” You realize you’ve been silent for several seconds too long. “Yeah. I’m fine. I should’ve known this would happen eventually, just…” You tuck your phone away. Not so soon.

“Dunno what he thinks he’s doing, showing up like this after that PR fiasco,” Wonho says, eyeing the door as though Yoongi is right behind it. “I mean, it looks like the girl wanted to come, Yoongi’s never been one for clubs. But seriously, dating a fan? You’d think he’d know better.”

You freeze. “Right.” You forgot that to the public, you and Yoongi met on the set of Possible. You forgot that you were never an ARMY – Yoongi wouldn’t date a fan.

“She gives me weird vibes, I dunno. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod. “I just want a few minutes without having to worry.” You’re both still standing awkwardly by the door, and you nod at the couch. “Wanna sit down? We can go back to the dance floor once we’ve caught our breath.”

“Sure. Hey, I never mentioned it earlier and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but that outfit looks really great on you.”

You laugh. Maybe the night doesn’t have to be a waste after all. 

~~~

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon coos. “Buy me a drink?” “Get your own,” Yoongi growls, tugging his arm out of her grasp. He forgot the group had a VIP room at Club Xyon; what were they doing in it?

Spread around the dancefloor, he sees Jungkook and Jimin having one of their famous dance battles; Taehyung is dancing in the front, vibing with the smitten DJ. Jin and Namjoon are sitting in a booth, surrounded by gorgeous idols.

And Hoseok is with him. Y/n and Wonho are alone.

Seoyeon is still whining. “But Suga, I want you to get it for me!”

Ugh. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Anything. Make it strong.”

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok, making sure he knows to keep an eye on Seoyeon, before heading to the bar.

“Suga!” The pretty mixologist grins broadly at his approach. “I’m a big fan! What can I get for you?”

Yoongi nods. “Thanks. Can I get some sparkling water with vodka on the rim and – I don’t know, something strong? Whatever you want to make, but with an extra shot.”

She nods, and sets about making the drinks. As he’s waiting, Yoongi’s phone buzzes with a text:

D-man: eyo Gloss [11:13]

D-man: got some shit for u [11:14]

Yoongi: Please tell me it’s good [11:14]

D-man: u don’t pay me for good u pay me for results [11:15]

D-man: anyway idk about good, but it’s something? [11:15]

D-man: seems weird tho [11:16]

Yoongi: What do you mean? [11:17]

D-man: hang on there’s more [11:17]

D-man: lemme call u soon [11:17]

Yoongi: ???? [11:18]

“Here are your drinks – oh, no charge!” The mixologist says with a wink. “I’m never taking a cent from BTS.”

Yoongi laughs, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Call it a tip, then. I insist.”

Hoseok’s smile is strained as Seoyeon dotes on him. Yoongi wishes he could laugh at his discomfort, but Hoseok is the only one besides him and Y/n that actually knows what the girl is capable of. 

“Here.” He hands Seoyeon the drink and sips from his own sparkling water. He refuses to lose his inhibitions around her.

Wonho and Y/n are alone. What if he hurts her?

Seoyeon takes a big swig. She was already drinking in the car on the way to the club, and Yoongi doesn’t understand why, with so much at stake, she can have fun. 

She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n.

What he can’t understand is why Detective Kang and the rest of the police department aren’t investigating Seoyeon. Y/n did turn Lisa’s laptop over, right? Seoyeon’s photo was there, open on her desktop. Maybe they knew each other for unrelated reasons? But D would have told him.

Argh. This night wasn’t supposed to be such a mess. And what is Y/n doing?

~~~ 

“You’re kidding!” You snort into your glass of soju, almost spilling the drink down your front. “He said that?”

“Oh yeah. So I was like, dude, I’m not gonna fight you. Right? He was a head shorter than me. He didn’t like that, so he started swinging, but he ended up hitting my buddy–” 

Already buzzed and determined to forget about Yoongi, you laugh harder than you need to. “That’s crazy.”

Your phone buzzes once, twice, three times. Argh. You glance at Wonho, hoping he didn’t notice the notification, but… 

“Go ahead and take it,” Wonho says, ruffling his hair. “You’re hoping it’s the contract, right?”

“Ah – yeah, sorry.” You scroll through your notifications, past more hate messages. There’ve been fewer lately. You suppose you’re becoming old news. Still, some accounts have been more persistent. A text notification catches your eye:

Hi, L/n Y/n. I’m messaging you on behalf of Mr. Park of FYP entertainment. We expect a response to the contract offer by 5:00pm Tuesday.

“What?”

Wonho looks up from his screen. “What’s up?”

“This…” you furrow your brow. “This says I’ve already received the contract. But I’m certain I haven’t!” You reload your email inbox desperately, but nothing changes. Wonho leans closer, until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Check your trash folder?” he suggests.

“But I haven’t deleted anything!”

“Just check.”

You sigh and click to view your recently deleted emails. There, staring at you, is an email with the subject line L/n Y/n FYP Ent. Contract of Employment 20xx.

“Oh my gosh, there it is!” You squeal, quickly moving it back to your inbox before tossing your phone aside and throwing your arms around Wonho. “Thank you so much!”

Wonho is quick to hug you back, laughing. “Of course. Glad I could help solve the mystery.”

As you gaze at Wonho, you’re filled with elation. Wonho’s easy. Unproblematic. Kind. “Wanna go back and dance?”

“Your wish, my command,” he replies with a wink. As you stand from the couch, Wonho steals a last glance at his phone- and does a double take. “Yo, what?”

“Wassup?”

“Ah, nothing. Just some stupid gossip about, er, Yoongi’s new girlfriend.”

Something burns in your throat. “Anything interesting?”

“Nah. Some people are saying that ‘cause her dad’s a cop, Yoongi must’ve committed a crime and her dad is letting him off if he dates Seoyeon.” Wonho chuckles. “The things people invent when they’ve got too much time on their hands.”

“What do you mean, her dad is a cop?”

He shrugs. “Detective, I guess. Same difference, and somehow I doubt Yoongi’s a felon. So! Are we gonna go dance?”

Kang Seoyeon.

“Yeah,” you reply, suddenly breathless. “Let’s dance.”

~~~

“I love this song!” Seoyeon squeals, waving her arms in the air. Yoongi, sipping his sparkling water, is doing his best to ignore her, while Hoseok is amusing himself with Seoyeon’s antics.

Yoongi wishes he could relax and enjoy himself, but with Y/n’s would-be killer and most certainly Lisa’s kidnapper now throwing it back to HyunA, and with D having something for him, Yoongi can’t do anything but stare around tensely. Suddenly, he notices Y/n and Wonho rejoining everyone on the dance floor. They’re laughing shoulder-to-shoulder. He feels a bolt of jealousy strike him like lightning, so fierce that he can barely breathe.

“Suga bear!” Seoyeon shouts, slurring her words slightly. She’s already finished her drink and is halfway through another. “You love me, right?”

Fucking hell. “No,” Yoongi replies, his voice flat. Behind Seoyeon, Yoongi can see Hoseok slap a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Seoyeon’s eyes fill with tears. “B-but you have to love me! I worked so hard, Suga! I did it all for you! You have to love me!”

Worked so hard? She had stalked him, tried to kill Y/n, and kidnapped Lisa. “Did all what for me?” Yoongi snarls. “You little –”

Bzzt. Bzzt. D is calling him.

Yoongi stares from his phone to Seoyeon to Y/n and Wonho across the dance floor. Shit. “Hoseok, keep an eye on her, okay?”

Hoseok salutes dramatically. “Yessir!”

With that, Yoongi snakes away from the crowd, eventually finding a less populated corner that gives him a perfect view of Y/n and Wonho having a great time. Wait…  is it his imagination, or does Y/n look-

“Gloss! Yo, my guy!”

Yoongi tapped his foot impatiently. “C’mon, what’ve you got?”

“Jeez, gimme a sec! Okay, so. Remember how that photo of you and Y/n was going around?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, so it came from, like, one of the red-haired chick’s backup accounts.”

“D, you fuckin’ told me this shit already, man.”

“I’m getting there! Stardom’s making you annoying, come back to Daegu.”

Yoongi snorts. “Keep talking.”

“So, you asked if Lisa had any side socials that weren’t under her name, right?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, I did a bit of digging – I charge extra for all the thirst tweets I had to look at, by the way – and I found that the fan account Seoyeon posted on has a very interesting username… one that corresponds pretty damn well to one her mutuals.” D took a deep breath. “Seoyeon’s account was called ‘@capkookies_btsbff’, and her mutual’s account is @captainkookie21. Remember how she kept talking about someone named Cap? Sooo I looked at that account, poking around, yknow? First thing: This was a total BTS fan account till, like, a few months ago. But after that? Gloss, this is some of the worst hate I’ve seen in a hot sec.”

“Whaddya mean, hate?”

“Hate towards your girl, bro! All sorts of bullshit, creepy stuff. Now, the IP address – which I took the liberty of finding, you’re welcome – tells me they’re in Seoul. The more interesting thing is that the address changed, and only a little over a month ago.”

“How can that change? I thought IPs were tied to devices.”

“They totally are! But socials aren’t. So this person was using one device, up until a month ago, and then switched.”

“They got a new phone?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they were trying to hide their location and were forced to use a new device.”

Yoongi’s forehead wrinkled. “Wha…”

He could hear D sigh over the phone. “Dude! Don’t you get it? Before they switched devices, this account was linked to Lisa’s phone!”

Yoongi’s jaw goes slack. That night at Seoyeon’s house… “Cap said you’d come to me. We’re meant to be.” 

~~~

“W-Where’s Suuuu-ga?” Seoyeon whines, clutching at Hoseok’s arm. She finished the rest of her glass and is now clearly well on her way to drunk.

“He’ll be back soon,” Hoseok replies, trying to blend his movement in with the heavy bass so that he and Seoyeon don’t stand out too much.

“All I did was love him,” Seoyeon says now, her eyes wide and doe-like. 

Hoseok makes a face. “You stalked him.”

Shaking her head vehemently, Seoyeon takes another pull of her drink. “Nuh-uh. I never did.”

Hoseok purses his lips. She’s clearly willing to let slip information, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. “You followed him to that hospital, and that lamppost. That’s called stalking.”

“Nooooooo I di-hic-didn’t,” Seoyeon warbles, swaying. Hoseok catches her and props her up, brows knit. Is she okay? Of course, Hoseok was the last to claim a title for holding one’s liquor, but Seoyeon seems insistent on getting wasted.

“I was just –” Seoyeon hiccups and giggles to herself. “Captain’s orders!”

“Orders?” 

“Oops!” Seoyeon claps a hand over her mouth, stumbling backwards and bumping into an actress Heoseok recognizes from his favorite drama. “Nothingggg.”

This could be interesting. Hoseok plucks the glass from her hand, holding it away as she reaches for it. “Ah-ah-ah. I’ll give it back once you tell me what you meant.”

Seoyeon laughs, the sound going from a cute drunk giggle to something more intense, more concerning. “C-caaan’t~ Cap said I had to keep quiet.”

“Just tell me why you said you weren’t stalking Yoongi. You were following him, right? How else could you have found him at the hospital? And that lamppost?”

Seyeon sticks her tongue out. “Not telling!”

Is this really the same girl who shoved Y/n into a river and kidnapped Lisa under everyone’s noses?

Hoseok pauses and thinks. “Yoongi hasn’t kissed you, has he?”

Almost immediately, Seoyeon’s eyes well up with tears once more. “No! He never even touches me!”

“You know, I bet if you told me everything, he’d be really grateful.” Hoseok leans forward conspiratorially, barely able to hear himself over the music and shouts on the dance floor. “I’m sure he’d love you then.”

Seoyeon lets out a squeal that sounds practically inhuman. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Hoseok swallows down his guilt with the reassurance that he’s doing this for Y/n and Yoongi’s sakes. “So what were you doing at the hospital?”

Seoyeon stops and thinks hard, her face serious for the first time all night. “You really think he’ll love me? He won’t be mad?”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, Seoyeon shoots forward and snatches her glass away from Hoseok, downing the rest of the drink before he can blink. “I just wanted to be with him,” she says, wiping a droplet from her lips. “But I wasn’t following him. Cap said that she was at the hospital.” Seoyeon’s eyes turn dark, furious, the change so severe that Hoseok flinches. “Cap said she wanted to take Suga away from me. So I waited outside the hospital with my friends. Suga doesn’t belong to her!” Placing her glass on a nearby table, Seoyeon tugs at Hoseok’s sleeve desperately. “He belongs to me! To us, to ARMYs!”

 Goosebumps erupt along Hoseok’s arms. Fans like this have always terrified him. To claim ownership of a person just because they were an idol… “And the lamppost? You didn’t follow Y/n, did you?”

Seoyeon blinks heavily. “I didn’t seeeee her after she fell into the river. Cap just told me where to go, and when I saw them hugging, I wanted to kill Y/n.” She smiles sweetly as though her words were nothing but innocent. 

Hoseok can feel his stomach roil. “Why did you do all this?”

“Duh!” Seoyeon sweeps her arm around, gesturing at the club. “Cap’s friends with BTS! I was promised that Cap could set me up with Suga. And – hic – it worked.”

“We’re not friends. What?” Is this person someone the group knows? But Hoseok can’t think of many people the members of Bangtan are all friends with, except Y/n. No, surely…? She wouldn’t do that to herself.

It’s getting her a lot of publicity, a tiny voice in Hoseok’s head reminds him.

“W-What do you mean?” Seoyeon asks, a pout forming on her lips. “‘Course you are. After all, she has a video of Jimin saying her name.”

Hoseok’s heart is hammering in his chest. Y/n does love to tease Jimin. “At a fansign?” It would make sense, at least.

“Noooo~” Seoyeon says in a slurred singsong voice. “In your apartment.” She giggles, covering her mouth. “I recognized it from your lives!”

Hoseok’s own mouth goes dry. Had Y/n been manipulating his friend this whole time? “Oh.”

[shintorikhazumi]

I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father (An LWAxRWBYxStarira Crossover)

A/N: What’s crazier than me writing a crossover I can’t get out of my head at 2am while still having multiple wips?

Writing a three-way crossover until 3am!!! (Ended at nearly 5am tho)

GAHHHHH.

Btw, this is a non-magic au. So Diana has no magic, and Weiss has no… semblance. Yes. Because the world of RWBY always goes “???!! OHMG, magic?!” Quite ironically. They become impressed at people turning into birds, but never flinch at Ruby who can separate herself on a molecular level. Sure.

I’ll be updating this sporadically, tbh. The updates will be as random as the coming of this idea. I do like it a lot, so I look forward to working on it. Just have to prioritize the wips.

[DO CHECK OUT THE END NOTES FOR SOME OF THE AU DETAILS AND BACKGROUND]

Still, I couldn’t let the concept pass me by so…

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

  I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father

  The wind blew strong outside, rain water cold against her bleeding cheek. The numbness was her only relief from pain nowadays. She’d lost count of how many bruises she’d gotten this week. If only her mother hadn’t passed… If only she hadn’t had a bastard of a father.

Then maybe Diana’s life would have been much better than the shell that it now was.

He left her and her mother just as she turned three, the only support she got in the form of random gifts and her financial needs. Her father was nothing of a father. The man that… helped make her was never there. He never showed he cared. Everything he gave her felt obligatory. She hated it. Heck, she didn’t even know his last name, much less remember what he looked like. She did try looking it up at some point, but it seemed as if he was some kind of bigshot she couldn’t name.

Neither her mom nor her aunt had divulged his identity, so she had long since drew a blank to the man’s identity. All she knew was that his name was ‘Jack’ or something of the sort. She had long since adopted her mother’s as it didn’t feel right to take the name of a man she never knew.

All she knew was that he was the cause of all her sorrows. That wretched man had left her and her mother to fend for themselves. Even though her mom was of a strong, well-known medical lineage here in Britain, the fact that she had gotten pregnant out of wedlock labelled her as a shame to the Cavendish name, and she had been cast out to a vacation home in the outskirts of the foreign country, Japan.

After her death, however, the women who Diana now saw as practically witches with how cruel and evil they were decided that because their blood ran through her, took over their small land that she and her mother had cried blood and tears to call their own, and exploited the underage girl, believing she might be of some use as a pawn at the very least, for the sake of the Cavendish name.

And she was. For some time, until she had injured her arm, and was no longer capable of becoming the kind of doctor they wanted her to be, her hand slowly losing its immaculate dexterity, becoming constantly shaky, rendering her as only half the worth she originally was, and thus completely useless besides being their punching bag. Quite literally.

Diana Cavendish found herself spending the better part of her life being abused, and hiding in tool sheds, and escaping her dreaded household at every waking moment, just as she was doing right now.

She hardly believed in any religion, but she found herself always praying to get away from this hellish nightmare. She’d hope that even if she only had a jerk of a father, he’d soon realize that she was his flesh and blood that needed saving.

A hard knock came on the wood of her shed’s door. She flinched, no sound escaping. Had they found her?!

“Miss Cavendish? Miss Diana Cavendish? Are you in here?” An unfamiliar voice called for her, bold and confident sounding, but with kindness and worry interlaced. She felt like it was someone she should respond to. The situation felt like it was some kind of divine calling she should answer.

With legs shaking, she stood up, unlatching the bar that held the door closed and stepping out into the now late night that reeked of hot pavement, rain having stopped while she was lost in thought.

A police officer, clad in uniform and raincoat smiled at her in pity. She was both grateful for- and hated- that gaze. She wished it had come sooner, but at the same time, she disliked being thought of as sad and pathetic.

“Your aunt and her family have been arrested, Miss.” Her ears perked up at the voice and the message they conveyed. Looking up from the ground, she stared into the truthful eyes of the cop. “You’re safe now.”

And she truly hoped she was.

  //-//-//-//-//

  “Weiss.”

At the mention of her name from that familiar voice, she rolled her eyes internally, holding in the urge to snap at the man she called ‘father’.

“What.”

Maybe her control wasn’t as good as she thought.

“Don’t give me that tone. I know you hate me, but I am still the one that raised you!”

“You mean, you’re the one that paid for me.” The ex-heiress pointed out. Her father gritted his teeth, frown deepening as he stepped forward in an attempt to exert his dominance.

Weiss only raised a brow in challenge.

“Anyway.” Jacques continued. Weiss would have smirked as he neither acknowledged nor denied her statement, but she felt it wasn’t the best time. “You are yet to turn twenty, and as you aren’t considered an adult yet-“

“But I’m nineteen, father.” Weiss stated, confused, her raised brow now raised in question. “I’m of legal age, to drink even.”

“Not in Japan you aren’t.” He replied with a smirk so evil, Weiss would have loved to slap it right off if her mind wasn’t thrown in a state of emergency, dreading whatever plans her father had. Even if she wanted to do as she pleased, she couldn’t completely go against him as she was at the moment. Their family name was too widespread and known in the business world, and she feared the consequences of running away from her father who currently had her safety- and practically her life- in the palm of his hand.

“What are you planning.” She narrowed her eyes at him, fearing for the worst, but expertly masking that fear.

“I’ll be sending you away, just as you’ve always wanted. I’ve prepared you an apartment close to a school of my choice to pursue the arts as you so strongly desired,” He spoke in a mocking tone. “And I’ll let you have your way there.” He ended with a smile that sent chills down Weiss’ spine. It sounded too good to be true, her dream being accepted like this. It was like a carrot on a stick being waved in front of her, only to always be out of reach.

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch? My, Weiss, my child, are you questioning your father’s benevolent heart?”

“What’s there to question?” Weiss shot back. “You don’t have one, now do you?”

She grinned at her little victory as she watched him gnashing his teeth, clearly seething in anger. Her smile dropped however as he gave her his own.

“I mentioned Japan’s legal age before.”

And Weiss already knew what he meant.

  //-//-//-//-//

  Life in Seishou had been the dream. Her first two years of high school were the peak of her life, she’d proudly say. She had wonderful friends and comrades who battled side-by-side, pushing one another to greater heights, and… she had someone she adored just a little more than friendship allowed. She had never admitted it, though. Then, a school back in Paris, the place where her mother had blossomed as an actress in the past, offered her a scholarship as an exchange student there.

And like she always did, Claudine excelled. So much so that multiple colleges offered her full rides to attend their institutions. Even highly prestigious universities. Her opportunities were broad, her future looking bright-

-And then news came. Her mother had fallen terminally ill.

She had to go back. She had to see her. She had to be by her side as long as possible.

She had to repay her for the love, for the dream she had given Claudine. She had to be the family her mother had been for her in the absence of a biological father she never knew, and the loss of her adoptive Japanese father at an early age. The lack of a male figure in their family was no cripple to Claudine, but she also missed the presence of the man she knew as her papa. She knew her maman missed him too.

So she had to do this for her mother.

She had to… in the event that… she’d lose her soon as well.

God forbid, Claudine prayed.

She had to return to Japan, study and… get a job, find some way to help her mother pay the increasingly expensive hospital bills, their little family’s saved money steadily disappearing.

She wondered if she should just drop school all together and apply for a troupe. Earn both money and experience.

She had enough rapport both in Japan and France. She could probably get enough opportunities, and she would succeed like she always had…

But…

There was something she wanted to see through, going into university.

When she left for Paris, she had gradually lost contact with all her friends, the culture slowly choking her time, eventually disconnecting them from her.

She’d receive and return the occasional message, but… things were different. She knew she’d drifted apart from everyone.

So, when she found out that they would all be attending the same Arts Institute, and when she had decided to return to Japan for her mother’s sake, she believed it wouldn’t all be that bad if she could apply for a scholarship to the same place, and possibly rebuild everything that was slowly crumbling away.

She wanted to be with everyone again.

And though she believed herself capable of attaining what she wanted on her own, she might require a little assistance from a miracle.

…

And a miracle- could she call this monstrosity of a situation that?- came in the form of a letter that had documents that signified she was the daughter of some ‘Jacques Schnee’ currently undergoing some sort of trial, and because of this, some of the accusations led to the revelation that he was neglecting a daughter, not sending support, and now as some form of bribery and compensation or whatever, he had paid the court to shut up about it if he took responsibility for her now.

Claudine scoffed in disbelief and utter disgust.

So this was her damned biological father? Some apparently bigtime tycoon who slept around and left a woman to fight for herself while carrying his- Claudine would suppose she was now an- illegitimate child.

This… was certainly news she’d never have expected in a million years.

She laughed mirthlessly at it all.

Well, at least her financial crisis had been averted. For better or for worse… she hoped it wasn’t the latter.

One upside was that she now had a clear ticket to that university she wanted to get into, it seemed. Her ‘father’ had taken the liberty of enrolling her there coincidentally. At least he could do something right, Claudine guessed.

“Well… I suppose it’s time to pack.” She sighed falling back onto her current apartment bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t so bad, maybe. Her newfound reality.

“Japan, I’m coming home to you.”

  //-//-//-//-//

  Diana glared at the letter in her hand angrily. There, in neat script, she saw the name of the man who had caused all her misfortune.

‘Jacques Schnee.’

“I want to hate you for as long as I live…” She gripped the paper so hard, creases were forming and the agent currently assigned to her worried she’d rip it into shreds. “What is this garbage? And why am I… Why can’t I… refuse… this ugly form salvation…” She choked on her sobs, a hand sympathetically rubbing her back.

“Let’s get you ready, Miss.”

Diana nodded in agreement.

-----

All her bags now in her hand after being dropped off by the cab driver, she stared in awe at the slightly modest, but clearly high-end house.

What the hell, did her dad just get her a house?!

Regardless of its size, couldn’t he have… like… gotten her an apartment or condo, at least?

How rich was this asshole father of hers? Was money the only good thing about him? Not that even that was necessarily a good thing.

With a groaning sigh, she unlatched the gate, walking up the little pathway. There were small flowerbeds already present around the yard, and decorations were tastefully placed.

It at least looked the part of cozy.

Once she got to the door, however, angry sounds coming from inside made her question that.

-Wait. This was her house, right?

Why would sounds be…

In a panic, she unlocked the front door with the key that came with the letter, bursting through it like a mad man, blue eyes flickering about the room, shocked to see two pairs of eyes, wide and intense, staring back at her with equal surprise.

“Who…”

“Oh, this is just great!!!” One with hair as white as snow exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in clear exasperation. “Now we have another one!” She began marching around the room, palms rubbing her face aggressively and scratching through her hair. “That little fuck-“

“-Language.”

“Shut up! I don’t even know who you are, and why you were in my house when I arrived. And you say you aren’t a burglar or whatever, but what is up with your sword play? Even if you were using the curtain pole. Are you some kind of spy or assassin the corporation has sent to finally get rid of me?”

“First of all, this is my house, not yours. And you came at me with a rapier!” A silver-gold blonde replied in equal stress. “You could have killed me!”

“I would never!” The first girl gasped with faux emotion. “At most, you’d lose an ear.”

“Umm…” Diana remained awkwardly fidgeting at the door, her usual bravery and confidence lost in the moment of shock.

“What.”

“I- I am simply here because… apparently my father purchased this place for me.”

Two pairs of eyes blinked once. Twice.

Then realization overtook them.

“Did you just say… father?” The golden-haired one stepped closer to her, a lot less hostile, but still aggressive looking.

“I- Um… yes?”

“Father… you say.” The lady with a rapier in her hand now approached Diana too.

These women were frightening, dear Lord. Diana slowly backed up, but stopped as her foot hit the bags she’d dropped in her frantic moments earlier.

“Can you tell me the name of this… ‘father’ of yours?” Rapier lady asked Diana who was beginning to wonder if she should look for a weapon to defend herself with.

“S-sure. His n-name is…”

“…”

“…”

“Is?”

“Fuck.”

Diana was not one to curse, but it surprised her that she did.

But she couldn’t help it, now could she? After all, her mind had been wiped clean as a white slate. A mental block was not what she needed right now, but just about anything involving that man seemed to bring about her misfortune.

At least the hands by which she’d die her early death were from very beautiful women it seemed.

She liked women, at least?

“Excuse me, um… are you alright?” Miss Golden hair was now very safe-looking and welcoming, Diana subconsciously stepped closer towards her.

“What is up with you? I just asked a question.”

“Perhaps, if you placed the sword down, and looked less like you were trying to murder her and look like you were willing to hear her out…”

Diana expected another heated retaliation, so it was a pleasant surprise to see the other woman sheath her weapon, and place it gently on a plastic-covered couch, clearly brand new.

“There. Happy?” She asked, glaring at the woman now gently holding Diana’s hand- and when had that happened?!

With a nod, the girl turned to Diana and asked again. “What is your father’s name. If you could tell us.”

Huh. She was a lot kinder than Diana had initially taken her for.

“I apologize. I can’t… remember at the moment. I- He hasn’t been around… for me until this point. I just… learned his name a few days ago but…” She hung her head in defeat, apologizing all the while. “Sorry I’m of no assistance to you…”

“No, it’s alright. Isn’t it?” The question was clearly not directed at her as she could only hear a grunt from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Would your father’s name happen to be Jacques?”

At this, Diana lifted her head, another shocker delivered to her, hearing the familiar name, the cogs in her head clicking into place.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it! Jack, or Jacques or whatever. Snee? Shuni? Schee? I don’t quite remember, but something along those lines.” Diana found herself enthusiastic towards the prospect that some of her questions might be answered.

It seemed the other two shared the same sentiment.

“It’s Schnee.” The white-haired lady corrected, eyes furrowing, anger building up once more. “And… THAT BASTARD OLD MAN!” Grabbing her rapier she swung it around, probably to vent her anger. “He set me up! And what’s more…” She whipped her head about to carefully look the other two people over.

“What is it?” Diana said in a voice quite small.

“Seems he had big secrets to hide.” She sighed. Turning to the initial enemy she had, now turned… stranger? She wasn’t sure they were allies at this point, she stated rather than asked. “I guess it’s the same for you?”

The woman beside Diana nodded, expression looking a lot stiffer than her gentle demeanor as she dealt with Diana earlier.

“I see. I can’t believe this situation.”

“What do you me-“

A voice beside Diana delivered her fourth? Fifth? Sixth?- she’d lost count- Shocker of the day.

“Sisters. It seems we’re… sisters.” Turning to Diana, she held out a hand for a shake. “I’m Claudine.”

“I’m Weiss.” Was the grumble from the couch the woman had flopped on top of.

“…O-oh!” Breaking her stare from the hand, she looked into rose-red eyes. “And I’m-“

And the world suddenly turned black.

‘Hello, My Name is…

[Diana Cavendish]

[Weiss Schnee]

[Saijou Claudine]

-And it seems as though…

I have two sisters?!

  A/N: If you’re asking, yes. Yes, Diana fainted.

Here are some details for this AU btw:

I’ve decided to make Jacques a half-Jap, half german.

So all of them have a quarter of that blood.

Diana is half brit, quarter jap, quarter german

Weiss is ¾ german because of her mom, and ¼ jap.

Claudine is half French, ¼ german, ¼ jap.

Also, if you want to know their ages, and their order, I decided it this way, and let me just quote how I typed it out in the raw idea draft.

“Diana April 30 16yro in anime 2017+3yrs (2020) she's 19 too omg jahahahaha (wrote this coz I’m currently 19 and was amused)

Clau august 1, 2001 19 at present

Weiss Currently 19 (in volumes 5-6) may 15th lmao hahsha. Perfect!!

Wtf Diana was the oldest? Hooo boi. I did expect and want Kuro to be youngest tho, tbh.”

Why their ages are pretty much the same will be mentioned next chap.

And that’s how it went. Decided with Weiss being the legitimate child coz Jacques was the only canonically mentioned dad between the three girls as far as I know. Or I just didn’t search enough.

But come on. I wouldn’t pass at the chance to beat up the dude in a fic so… hihi.

Feedback is super appreciated!

Thank you for reading!

~Shintori Khazumi

[thelittlestcheshire]

if it weren't for you meddling kids...

A collection of seven playlists about my character’s inner-muse dynamics with one another.

playlist i: you’ll always be the one i love the most

a general balo and ches playlist

team (lorde) [not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things. livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. and you know, we're on each other's team] // drag me down (one direction) [all my life, you stood by me when no one else was ever behind me. all these lights, they can't blind me, with your love, nobody can drag me down] // brave honest beautiful ( fifth harmony ft. meghan trainor ) [don't go and waste your precious time, with all the nonsense on your mind. no, don't criticize yourself no more, you got a smile worth fighting for]  // told you so (little mix) [girl, just come 'round mine tonight i've got wine and make-up wipes.  i'll hold you (i'll hold you),. we can put the kettle on, talk 'bout how he's not the one. i told you but, i'm never gonna say i told you so] //  friends (jasmine thompson) [who knows, who cares what we're gonna be. if you're near, i'm there. it will always be home, wherever we go.] // we belong (pat benatar) [we belong to the light, we belong to the thunder. we belong to the sound of the words, we've both fallen under. whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better; we belong, we belong, we belong together.] // safe & sound (taylor swift ft. the civil wars) [i remember tears streaming down your face when i said i'll never let you go. when all those shadows almost killed your light. i remember you said, “don't leave me here alone.” but all that's dead and gone and passed tonight] // buzzcut season (lorde) [cola with the burnt-out taste, i'm the one you tell your fears to. there'll never be enough of us] // unsteady (x ambassadors) [if you love me, don't let go. hold, hold on, hold on to me ‘cause i'm a little unsteady, a little unsteady] // i’ll keep you safe (sleeping at last) [don't be, don't be afraid. god knows, these mistakes will be made, but i promise you i'll keep you safe] // tell her you love her - acoustic (echosmith) [when she says she needs you, tell her you need her too. you tell her clearly, speak what your heart wants you to. tell her she's lovely, always tell her the truth. when she says she loves you, tell her you love her too] // nightingale (demi lovato) [oh, nightingale, you sing to me i know you're there. 'cause, baby, you're my sanity. you bring me peace, sing me to sleep]  // deep end (ruelle) [what can i do when it's pulling me under, pulling me underneath?] // hold your breath (ruelle) [hold your breath, don't let go. i feel it coming]  // my love won’t let you down (little mix) [we can sit on the edge of your bed, tell me all of the fears in your head. and i'll sing you your favourite song ‘til the pain and all the tears are all gone] // rainbow connection (sleeping at last) [have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? i've heard them calling my name. is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? the voice might be one and the same.]

playlist ii: #squadgoals (aka balo and ches are sharing the aux):

8+ hours of music the girls listen to when they hang out, please remember to shuffle!

playlist iii: and if you were drowned at sea i’d give you my lungs so you could breathe

a general balo and zander playlist

shaking heads (foxes) [and if i turn around, there'll be no light. i know the danger, but it's alright. pick up the light and keep it, darling. you know that i can tell] // bottom of the river (delta rae) [hold my hand, ooh, baby, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river] // hey brother (avicii) [hey, brother; do you still believe in one another? hey, sister; do you still believe in love? i wonder.] // i hope you dance (lee ann womack) [i hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. whenever one door closes, i hope one more opens. promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance...] // my wish (rascal flatts) [i hope you never look back but you never forget all the ones who love you and the place you left. i hope you always forgive and you never regret, and you help somebody every chance you get.] // echo (foxes) [look into my eyes, do you see something to defend? spinning in the lights, will i grow old before i die?]  // brother (kodaline) [if i was dying on my knees, you would be the one to rescue me. and if you were drowned at sea i'd give you my lungs so you could breathe] // get your wish (porter robinson) [so tell me how it felt when you walked on water, did you get your wish? floating to the surface, quicker than you sank. idol, idol] // icu {madison’s lullaby} (demi lovato) [sometimes i can see myself in the little things you do but i'm not afraid that you'll lose your way. 'cause i believe in you. you're gonna be the one who's strong enough, who can overcome, anything in your way]

playlist iv: i’m afraid of what i’m risking if i follow you

a general ches and zander playlist

into the unknown (panic at the disco) [what do you want? 'cause you've been keeping me awake. are you here to distract me so i make a big mistake? or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me, who knows deep down i'm not where i'm meant to be?] // carry you (ruelle & fleurie) [you are not alone, i've been here the whole time singing you a song. i will carry you] // bud like you (ajr) [kickin' in the basement, kickin' in the basement, hatin' all the same things too. if i need a pick-me-up, would you come and pick me up? i could really use a bud like you] // wilson {expensive mistakes} (fall out boy) [and when i say i'm sorry i'm late, i wasn't showing up at all. i really mean i didn't plan on showing up at all. don't you, don't you, don't you know i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended. i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended with you] // unpack your heart (philip philips) [show me something the rest never see. give me all that you hope to receive, your deepest regret dies with me] // where do you run (the score) [where do you run when you need to breathe? where do you run when you don't believe? where do you run when you can't face your fears? 'cause every time i run, i run to you] // twin skeleton’s {hotel in nyc} (fall out boy) [and there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on; up above our heads droning on and on and on. keep making trouble 'til you find what you love. i need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug] // maybe idk (jon bellion) [i wonder why i feel short when i know my money’s tall. i wonder why i miss everyone and i still don’t call. i wonder why i can’t run that fast in my dreams] // you are enough (sleeping at last) [you're enough, you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. these little words, somehow they’re changing us. you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. so we let our shadows fall away like dust] // midnight sun (philip philips) [oh my friend, look how time has changed the cracks in our skin. oh my friend, let go of the fear that’s inside your head. so stay strong, live on, and chase the midnight sun]

playlist v: beyond every bend is a long blinding end; the worst kind of pain i’ve known

a ches and zander playlist set during the aftermath of the jack posters with an alternating pov (track 2 is zander, track 3 is ches, etc etc. tracks 1 and tracks 12 are mutual)

the choice (gustavo santaolalla & alan umstead) // burning in the skies (linkin park) [i'm swimming in the smoke of bridges i have burned, so don't apologize i'm losing what i don't deserve] // the good in me (jon bellion) [one temptation sparked this, now i can feel the darkness. it's my own fault, but you had this planned. all of me, you take now, like criminals and shakedowns, yeah, you make me forget who i am] // another brick in the wall, prt. 3 (pink floyd) [i don't need no arms around me and i don't need no drugs to calm me. i have seen the writing on the wall, don't think i need anything at all] // bad blood (taylor swift) [did you think we'd be fine? still got scars in my back from your knives. so don't think it's in the past, these kinds of wounds they last and they last] // no light, no light (florence + the machine) [and i'd do anything to make you stay. no light, no light, no light. tell me what you want me to say. you want a revelation, you wanna get it right. but it's a conversation, i just can't have tonight...] // that won’t save us (against the current) [how did we become so numb? we just let it come undone, and i just started giving up. but that won't save us] // hard to say i’m sorry (chicago) [it's hard for me to say i'm sorry. i just want you to stay. after all that we've been through i will make it up to you, i promise to] // believe (mumford & sons)  [i don't even know if i believe everything you're trying to say to me] // second chances (imagine dragons) [quicker than lightning, whiter than bone. if you can erase it, then i can atone. oh these days, oh these days get heavy. i get older and life fades, but you remain] // swallow my pride (ramones) [loose lips sink ships, they said but isn't it always that way? swallow my pride, oh yeah] // roads untravelled (linkin park) [weep not for roads untraveled, weep not for sights unseen. may your love never end, and if you need a friend there's a seat here alongside me]

playlist vi: it’s mourning in america

a playlist for the luxor trio - balo, ches, and zander

heathens (twenty one pilots) [we don't deal with outsiders very well, they say newcomers have a certain smell. you have trust issues, not to mention, they say they can smell your intentions] // morning in america (jon bellion) [we're secretly out of control, nobody says it. when the class president overdosed, we all pretended tt was rare, it was shocking and all the town was talking. yeah, we're secretly out of control and everyone knows. oh, it's morning in america] // the kids aren’t alright (fall out boy) [and in the end, i'd do it all again. i think you're my best friend. don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright?] // more than words (little mix & kamille) [i find peace in every story you told, i think of you, i'll never be alone. oh, it's true, you know i do. oh, i need you more than words can say. oh, you save me in ways that i can't explain. always been there for me, now i'll do the same] // family (mother mother) [and when you’re standing on the ledge i’ll pull ya down, put you to bed. and if you’re bleeding from the heart i'll come around, and clean it up] // beautiful people (ed sheeran & khalid) [we don't fit in well 'cause we are just ourselves, i could use some help gettin' out of this conversation, yeah. you look stunning, dear, so don't ask that question here. this is my only fear: that we become beautiful people] // immortals (fall out boy) [they say we are what we are but we don't have to be. i'm bad behavior but i do it in the best way. i'll be the watcher of the eternal flame, i'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams. i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, i try to picture me without you but i can't] // family (the chainsmokers & kygo) [when i am blind, in my mind i swear they be my rescue, my lifeline. i don't know what i'd do if i, if i'd survive my brothers and my sisters in my life, yeah] // walking the wire (imagine dragons) [oh, the storm is ragin' against us now. if you're afraid of falling, then don't look down. but we took the step, oh, we took the leap and we'll take what comes, take what comes] // take it out on you (ruelle) [i don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you. it feels like i'm breaking down, watching my words cut you in two, in two. 'cause you are the only who saves me from myself when everything is caving. don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you, but i do] // from now on (the greatest showman) [and from now on these eyes will not be blinded by the lights. from now on what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight. and let this promise in me start, like an anthem in my heart] // long live (taylor swift) [can you take a moment? promise me this: that you'll stand by me forever, but if god forbid fate should step in and force us into a goodbye. if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name] // i hope you’re happy (blue october) [there will be days when you're falling down, there will be days when you're inside out. there will be days when you fall apart, someone else will break your heart. they're never gonna hold you back, i'm always gonna have your back so try to remember that...]

playlist vii: those meddling kids

a playlist for balo, ches, collen, and zander - and their friendship

on my way (phil collins) ['cause there's nothing like seeing each other again, no matter what the distance between. and the stories that we tell will make you smile, oh it really lifts my heart], more than a band (lemonade mouth) [i never knew you could take me so far. i've always wanted the home that you are, the ones i need] // i lived (onerepublic) [hope that you spend your days but they all add up and when that sun goes down hope you raise your cup. i wish that i could witness all your joy and all your pain, but until my moment comes, i'll say...] // i’m gonna be {500 miles} (the pretenders) [if i get drunk, well, i know i'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you. and if i haver, yeah, i know i'm gonna be i'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you. but i would walk five hundred miles, and i would walk five hundred more just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door] // tongue tied (grouplove) [take me to your best friend's house, ‘goin' 'round this roundabout, oh yeah. oh, take me to your best friend's house; i loved you then and i love you now, oh yeah] // i’ll be there for you (the rembrandts) [no one could ever know me, no one could ever see me. seems you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me. someone to face the day with, make it through all the rest with. someone i'll always laugh with, even at my worst, i'm best with you, yeah] // drag me down (one direction) [if i didn't have you, there would be nothing left, the shell of a man that could never be his best. if i didn't have you, i'd never see the sun, you taught me how to be someone, yeah] // miss americana & the heartbreak prince (taylor swift) [it's you and me, that's my whole world. they whisper in the hallway, “she's a bad, bad girl.” the whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. it's you and me, there's nothing like this, miss americana and the heartbreak prince. we're so sad, we paint the town blue, voted most likely to run away with you] // sharp edges (linkin park) [sharp edges have consequences, i guess that i had to find out for myself. sharp edges have consequences, now every scar is a story i can tell. we all fall down, we live somehow. we learn what doesn't kill us makes us stronger] // family (mother mother) [a motley crew, a rodeo. a goddamn zoo, a circus show. but oh don't you know how it goes, we are all walking each other home] // the story of tonight (hamilton) [raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away - no matter what they tell you. raise a glass to the four of us, tomorrow there’ll be more of us - telling the story of tonight.]

[glenncoco4]

Hiding

A/N: A/N: He's a pro-surfer. She's a waitress. A chance meeting brings them together and their relationship grows into something more, but it's not always how one imagine it to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes move with the waves as he watches the barrel form, imagining himself and going through his body movements as he focuses on standing up, and becoming one with the wave. He’s drawn out of his trance at the feel of her hand sliding down his chest as she comes up behind him, her breath warm against his ear. “We should go out for dinner.”

He closes his eyes, letting out a deep gush of air. “Baby, you know how much I want to but-“

Snatching her hand away, she walks around the couch and heads straight for her bag. She’s furious with him, but more so with herself because she agreed to go along with it in the first place. Early on she thought it was just a normal fling and nothing was going to come of it but boy was she wrong. “But nothing. I’m tired of this, Marty. I’m tired of your excuses.”

At her words, he quickly hops up off his seat and scurries over to her, his hands finding their place on her shoulders. “Kens, baby, please don’t go.”

She lets out a deep calming breath, willing herself not to cry before turning around and coming face to face with decision she had no idea she’d be making today. “I deserve more, Marty. I deserve a whole lot more than what you’re giving. I thought I could handle hiding out, and sneaking around so you can protect your “bad boy” image, but I’m sick of it.”

“I’m trying to protect you, why can’t you see that.”

“You’re trying to protect yourself and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who’s more focused on the opinion of strangers than the opinion of the person they said they love more than anything.”

He reaches out for her but she pulls back, stinging him like nothing ever before. “Baby, no. Don’t go.”

“Goodbye, Marty. Call me when decide to live your life the way you want to and not the way others want you to.”

He watches as she walks out the door, leaving the life they had behind her. The ache that’s in his chest tells him just how bad he screwed up, how selfish he was. Leaning against the wall, he slides down to the floor as the tears begin to make themselves known. “What did I do?”

XXXX

She sits the plates down in front of the respective customers, telling them to enjoy their meal. At this point she’s just going through the motions. Yesterday was a shit show inside a dumpster fire and the numbness continues to grow. She can’t get him out of her head, out of her heart. Maybe she walked away too soon, maybe if she-NO, she did the right thing.

The brunette’s so lost in her own thoughts, she does’t see him until she’s halfway across the dinning room, stopping her in her tracks. “What are you doing here?"

“I’m here to apologize to you.”

“And you chose to do it now?”

“Marty Deeks?”

Their attention turns to the older woman who is now in their immediate vicinity. He sends her a quick smile before turning his attention back on Kensi.

“Oh, my god. I’m like your biggest fan.”

“That’s nice.” Any other time he would talk to her but right now is not the time. So he sends her a brief smile only to turn back to see the brunette’s retreating form.

“Kens, please?”

She quickly turns around, irritation written clear on her face. “WHAT?”

“I love you. Please?”

“You can do better than that, Marty.” She knows it sounds harsh, but she can’t turn a blind eye any more.

He can feel the eyes in the room on him, if there’s ever a moment when he needs her to know how sorry he is, it’s right now, so he powers through. “I love that you push me to be my best because you know what I’m capable of. You see me for me and no one ever has before, not really. Ever since I was 18 all I ever was to anybody was a dollar sign, but not with you.” Gaining a small amount of courage, he takes a few steps towards her almost as if she’s pulling him in. “I was wrong to keep you hidden, because you deserve to be shown off to the world. You deserve so much more than what I can give you, but if you’ll forgive me, I promise to do everything to become the man you deserve.” This is the moment of truth. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out an intricate ring, the one that he widdled from the piece of wood of the cutting board that she burnt the first time she tried to cook dinner for him. “Kens, will you marry me?”

Tears spring in her eyes, she so badly wants to say yes but she can’t, knowing he could just as easily back track tomorrow. “I can’t be your secret anymore.”

Taking a deep calming breath, he does something he’d never thought he’d ever do. He pulls out a chair of the empty table that’s right next to them and uses it as a stepping stool to stand on top of the very expensive dining table. “Excuse me, can I have your attention please?” If there were some that weren’t paying attention to what was going on before, they definitely are now. “I've been dating this amazing woman for the past year and a half. Against my better judgment I listened to my team and kept it a secret, but no more secrets.” His attention turns from his “audience” and towards the woman whose always been there for him, loving him, and brining a light he’s never known into his life. “Kensi, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you at the beach and you insulted my roundhouse cutback.” At he sight of her smile, he’s suddenly filled with a sense of confidence. “You didn’t care who I was back then and you don’t now, and I mean that in the best way possible. You see me for me and who you know I can become. Ever since I met you, there’s a peace that has washed over me, a peace that up until then, I had only found when I was out in the water. Kens, you deserve to be shown off to the world, and I was wrong to even go along with the idea of hiding your light. Baby, I promise I will never put you in second place again and I promise to love you with everything I am for the rest of my days. So if you’ll have, I would very much like to be your husband.”

The room is filled with a resounding gasp, drawing Kensi’s attention to just how many people are watching them. She’s not use to this and it freezes her. The only thing coming out of her mouth being one of reprimand. “You’re not allowed to stand on the tables.”

He crosses his arms, keeping his feet firm on the piece of furniture. “Well, I’m staying here until you give me an answer.”

“Fine, get down.”

“So?”

For the first time tonight she allows herself to lock eyes with him. She sees the desperate love so clearly written in his cerulean blues and can’t help but give in. Closing the distance between them, she lays her palm on his cheek before standing up on her tiptoes to bring her lips to his in a kiss that she so desperately missed. “Yes.”

The goofy grin that spreads to his face is one that reminds her of a kid on Christmas morning, yet somewhat in disbelief that what he’s asking for is really in his grasp. “Yes?”

She nods, confirming her answer one last time.

“She said yes!!!!” Before she knows it, he has her wrapped up in a bear hug, spinning her around the dinning room of one of LA’s most glamorous restaurants, not a care in the world.

XXXX

Later that night as they step into his loft, Kensi hesitantly observes the room, even though he did everything to make her believe he wouldn’t hide their relationship anymore, there’s still that hint of disbelief in the back of her mind. Before she looses her courage, she turns around, seriousness set on her face. “How do I know this is going to be any different from last time?”

“Turn on the TV.”

Her brow furrows at his evasiveness and weird request, but does it anyway. “Now what?”

“Turn it to E!.”

They stand side by side in the middle of the living room for about 10 minutes before Kensi’s finally aware why she’s watching. “Breaking News: Pro Surfer Marty Deeks is reportedly engaged to longtime girlfriend Kensi Blye an International Global Studies major from UCLA. The assumed “bad boy” surfer has been known for having numerous girlfriends in the past, but it looks like that was just for show. The surfer just released this statement a short while ago.”

First of all, I want to publicly apologize to my fiancée, she wanted no part of keeping us a secret and frankly, neither did I. But I was talked into it by my team because they thought I needed to protect my bad boy image and it also didn’t “look good” that she was a waitress. They were wrong…I was so very wrong. Kensi stood by me even though I haven’t stood by her and there’s no excuse for what I did. Believe me when I say that I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to her. I don’t care about any image or what people think of me other than her, and it took almost loosing her for me to see that. I’ve lived in a persona most of my career and frankly I’m sick of it. She’s the best person I know and she makes me a better man every single day. I can’t wait for the day that she finally becomes my wife.  - Marty Deeks

“Wow, talk about love confession.”

She turns to him, tears in her eyes. There comes a point in life when you realize who’s here to stay and who’s just here in passing. Asking more of him wasn’t a good feeling at first because she knew the risk, but taking that risk and telling him what she needed had to be done. For her and for them. “I love you.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Marty pulls her into him, placing a kiss on the top of her head. The thought of how close he was to loosing her will haunt him for a long time, but spending every day for the rest of their lives together will without a doubt bring in the sunshine. “I love you too.”

[malfoymuch]

“Rivals Don’t Look At Rivals That Way” pt. 2 [draco x reader]

Pairing; Draco x Reader 

Genre; ANGST, with uh, some fluff

Prompt: Part 1 Inspired by “THAT WAY” by Tate McRae 

Word Count; 4k+

A/n: Hey everyone, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for posting this WEEKS later, after the first one. To be honest, things are getting a little hectic and the workload for school is only increasing (it’s insane really, at least to be). Anyway thank you for all the love and support you gave to me, especially for the first part!! It may seem a bit rushed so I apologize, and it is a lot of ANGST, so yeah...thank you guys and love you!! 

Warning; idk major angst, and it’s a bit rushed so i apologize (there also may be a few grammar errors but i always miss them) 

Part 1 || Masterlist

_________________________________

Previously: 

“Rivals don’t look at rivals that way… rivals aren’t supposed to feel jealous when the others dating someone else…” you droned on, ignoring the look of astonishment Draco had. “I don’t think we’re rivals, because if we were, then I’ve read everything wrong. And so are my feelings…” 

So you looked back up to him teary-eyed, clutching his robes and pulling him closer to you. 

“Tell me the truth, I want to know whether or not there was a possibility we have something… tell me if you feel absolutely nothing so I can stop-- there’s no point of me continuing on if nothing’s going to happen so tell me, Draco. Do rivals look at rivals that that?”

_________________________________

Now: 

He felt comatose, not from your hinted confession, but the reality he cloaked suddenly unveiling. Complexion faded, his lips quivered and his throat unbearably tight. It had only tightened more as he watched as your face begin to form tears, sniffles already beginning. He was always a malefactor, wasn’t he? 

“I can’t,” Draco lamented, inspecting your deepened expression. 

“The last thing I want is for you to be mocked by all these students…” a frog caught in this throat as the three next words passed his lips. “...from my father.”  His eyes widened as he left a cool drop fall stream down his face and drip off his chin, landing on the ground. The sudden moment he couldn’t restrain his emotions… he didn’t even know he felt even an ounce of melancholy.

“So you admit that we’re more than rivals?” You whispered, stirring Draco from his unsettling behavior; a frown quickly cracked through, despite his oblivious state.  

“I never said that, don’t put words into my mouth. Plus, you know better than anyone that we couldn’t possibly--” 

“What’s stopping you?” You grilled, quickly overlooking his (weak) counter, stunning him for a moment. “Why is there always something stopping you Draco? Someone?” 

The interrogation seemed to madden him. Out of the blue, a harsh growl erupted from his throat; harsher than he’d ever done before. Of course, he knew what stopped him, what always stopped him. Merely the thing that daunts him every day, makes him question himself and his actions… 

“Nothing...” Draco snarled, laced in displeasure.“Nothing is stopping me.” 

“There is something...” you pressed on. In this exact moment, you could’ve been deemed the antagonist, forced to alienate everyone around you. 

You didn’t want to, but you knew that the exterior front he seems to maintain isn’t his true nature; you knew that deep within, everyone is a bit broken inside, and there was a nagging feeling in you that he was much more broken than anyone you’ve ever seen… maybe even more than you. 

“I know there’s something Draco, whether or not you want to tell me about it.” You didn’t want to, but if making him angered was the only way to see his genuine emotions, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

Draco’s jaw clenched at your words, resisting the urge to snap. He should be open, he wanted to do nothing more than surrender. To you, to everyone, he trusted, to everyone who deserved it. He’s done already to you, partly. Accidentally, but was it worth it? It was, it always was, so... why can’t he go further? Why were so many things prohibiting him? And why were they all linked to the same thing? 

“You don’t understand, you don’t see the world I do (Y/N). You’ve managed to see through people, and believe that every person should have a chance. I didn’t get to, you haven’t seen this school as I have… being a Malfoy. People change, and not for the better, sometimes... You can’t fight for me for too long, (Y/N), you’ll end up giving up too.” 

His eyes glistened with fresh pools fell down, uneasy hands bringing themselves up to cradle your weeping face. A thumb, calloused, guardedly moved higher, pushing the water threatening to flood. He watched as the spark in your eyes dim, and he knew he’d done it again; he’d break another one. It was heart-wrecking. 

“You mean more to me than anything, (Y/N). I mean it…” he started, stepping closer and bringing you to his chest; shielding him from seeing the agonizing expression, guilt beginning to already eat him alive. 

“The last thing I’d ever want to see, is for you to be shattered… and for it to be all my fault,” he choked out, knowing very well you were already tattered… much less than what could happen later. His hand slowly went up to place itself on the back of your head, soothingly rubbing and playing with the strands. Not to calm you down, but for him. 

With his words, time seems to stop, as well as your heart; no words formed. 

How could he? 

You’d known for some time rejection was an option, but it was before his feelings… before the pain knowing how close you were; seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, reaching for it, grasping what it seemed to be it, and falling through the seams. 

Blame is all that seemed to loom him, clouded by what he convinced himself to be responsibility.

How do you persuade someone damaged like that? Reassure him that he didn’t have to worry about your well-being? About the world around him? 

That simply having him near and embracing you, knowing how he truly felt was all you needed; his mere existence was enough, his worth didn’t need to be proven. That the feelings were both mutual, was all he needed. The world’s view shouldn’t matter, because it was the two of you… not them. 

He didn’t need the world to love him, because you did. And even if you weren’t enough, he’d have others, family, friends… but did he really? 

For once, in your entire life and being, you felt… defeated. Taunts and arguments were small failures, but resulted in your victory… for the first time, you didn’t know what to do… how to make a comeback.  

“So there’s nothing? We’re destined to be stuck like this?” you sobbed, arms encircling his torso, pulling yourself into his chest deeper, a habit to muffle the cries escaping from you; a tactic you developed as a kid. Draco only pulled you closer, silent; chewing on his lip hard to the point he could begin to taste the metallic fluid oozing from it. “I don’t want it to end… anything at all is fine.” 

He knew what you meant or what you were getting to… It was either going back to being the world’s little display of chaos or having a secret little love affair. 

Now usually, he’d be head-over-heels at the idea, the moments of cuddling or secret rendevous in the garden or past curfew. Stolen times under the moonlight or just with the two of you, it sounded like bliss. 

But there was a possibility that it could all end in an instant. The moment he’d become extremely attached, to the point where a mere sideglance from another male could send him unhinged. Or someone catching the two of you, unfolding the curtain for all to see; backlash was his first thought. 

The thing was, he was untouched. Draco Malfoy was taken to such a high degree that most didn’t want anything to really do with him-- get on his bad side. The only people who’ve ever given him a run for his money was the Golden Trio, other than that, he was fine. 

You were the complete opposite. Yes, you have held a stable title of being strong, a determined and bright-minded individual. But people would still gossip, attempt to enrage you, simply because they could. You would fight back, that was definite… but there’s only so much you could take. Only so much before you either become numb or do something near expelling-worth. 

He didn’t have the courage. Call him a wimp all you want, but Draco Malfoy wasn’t going to hurt someone else ever again. He’s already done enough to himself.

Cut ties, to have you blame him and move on. Hate him, mock him, he’d heard it all before-- but with time, you’d be happier. It would hurt, more than anything, but he’d rather have it from you now than having it all, still brawling students will a weak caliber. God, he’d never forgive himself for that. His selfish acts weren’t going to be at the price of your glee.

“We can only be what they see us as of now,” he retaliated, hearing another choke from you; the heartstrings pulling excruciatingly tight. “For both of our sake, for your sake, especially.” 

“Draco--” 

“Please, do it for me. Stop trying to reason with me, because I’m doing what’s best for us, for everyone. For you.” 

Anger. 

For you… for you… why was it always “for you?” 

Why was it that everyone’s decision revolved around what’s best “for you?”  

No one ever asked, but it was always with the best intention “for you.” But who knew if they left before they could? 

The saying made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn’t retaliate. Instead, with a shaky breath, you took everything left of you and removed his hands from you, already missing the warmth from him. You didn’t need a second opinion to know you were an absolute wreck; the feeling already weighed you.

You held onto his hands in yours, just blanking out, staring at it. The sheer touch of his hands made butterflies explode within you, the frog trapped within your throat refused to budge. The grooves of his hands were intricate, you could hold onto it for forever, intertwining it with yours.  Instead, a few more tears plopped from your eyes and onto his hands. What a silly thought… 

Holding his hand out to him (with yours in it), you pushed it towards him, staring at him. This was your last attempt. Draco’s eyes bore into the hand holding his, signaling you were complying while saying, 

“If you truly feel that way… take these back too.” 

Draco didn’t want to… it was too nice. It felt right, like home. A safe one. Maybe even an escape. But if it didn’t, and let his heart voucher for him, all that he’s said, all he’s done, would’ve been for nothing; the struggles. 

So, he made his decision. 

As his hand withdrew and landed to his side, you had sprung forward. Grabbing the collar of his robes, you pull him down and peck his forehead. Draco’s body turned crimson, his body hot; if it was possible, steam would’ve been blown out from his ears. Just as quickly as it happened, it was gone. 

Putting on the best smile you could muster, which you knew wasn’t much, you pulled away with another few inches of distance; the wood creaking beneath your feet. You didn’t know why you did it, maybe for once, you wanted to be selfish… you wanted to take something, a memory before it all ended. 

“I should go before someone comes to check out the books in this section.” You didn’t want to leave, his eyes were telling you to stay, but if you did your heart would’ve split into two. You made your lips smile wider, almost maniacally, as more tears cascaded down your face; everything you could see started to blur. Turning away, you scurried off, resisting the urge to turn back. 

Something overcame Draco. He sunk onto his knees, against the bookcase, ignoring how loud it must’ve been. He leaned against the bookshelf, his lip quivering more than ever as all his emotions poured out; by himself, once again. His knees came to his chest as he flicked his wrist with a series of words. Books encompassed him, cloaking the withering Slytherin, finally expressing his emotions… with no one to hold. 

_________________________

You stared off into space, elbow digging into your thigh, despite the thick robs above it; you rested your head on your chin as everything around you seemed to be in a blur. You were so wrapped up in your mind the stem of your apple was barely between your fingertips, dangling. 

“You shouldn’t look so glum, people might get the wrong idea,” Dean teased, nudging your shoulder as he stole the apple from you, taking an enormous bite out of it. You gasped and punched his arm, screaming at his stupidity for eating your food, and finishing it off. Grinning the best he could, he threw the apple core to the side and folded his arms over his chest, making a sad face. 

“Now what’s the problem?” He questioned, in a childlike manner, his bottom lip popping out to create an (almost) irresistible pout. The action made you roll your eyes, giving Dean his answer. 

“Geez, it’s the same thing… well, if you want, we could do something to get revenge.” You gasped in exaggeration, eyes blown wide as a hand came to your chest. “Did a Gryffindor just suggest revenge? What’s the world coming to?” 

“Oh, put a sock in it. You’re simply just rubbing off of me too much for my own good,” he mocked back, smirking. Shaking your head a bit, you stealthily grabbed the sketchbook from him and flipping through the pages. His eyes bulged. 

“What are you doing?! Are you mad?” 

“You know...” you trailed off, scanning through the context. “You really shouldn’t draw people without their permission. Especially if you’re drawing the same person.”  You taunted, displaying the picture of Ginny. Dean’s face grew red, taking the initiative to take the book back and hide it under his robes. He groaned aloud, revealing it once more. 

“First off, I don’t only draw her, I draw all my friends.” He muttered, flipping through the pages irked until he found it. “I drew you too,” he finished, displaying the specific drawing.

Honestly, you were surprised. Shockingly enough, Dean Thomas was in incredibly talented kid, believe it or not, especially in art-and-crafts. You never belittled his talent, unlike the other Hogwarts students, you just teased him from drawing his little crush for an unspeakable amount of days, months. But seeing you made you crack a smile, even with the thought of Draco’s denial. 

It had already been two weeks. Fortunately for you, Dean was about the perfect person you needed, a supportive, caring friend. It was well reciprocated, it seemed Dean was completely in love Ginny; he didn’t even talk to her much. He had tried countless times, but there were a few moments filled with stumbling over his words, walking off embarrassed. You didn’t know if Ron had noticed Dean’s fascination with his sister, you just hoped he wouldn’t chop Dean’s head off. 

“Why draw me? I mean, that sketchbook’s pretty much occupied with one person inside. You could dedicate the entire book to her.” Dean rolled his eyes, clutching the sketchbook against his chest tightly. “I draw everyone I hold dear, (Y/N). And if you didn’t know by now…” Dean’s voice began to come softer, leaning close. “... you’re apart of that list now.” 

“You’re too goofy sometimes,” you laughed. Both of you smiled brightly as laughs were exchanged, gaining the attention of a few students, who began to babble. Dean stopped before you did, gazing at everyone.

“Hey, don’t listen to them. They have nothing on you,” you whispered, ruffling his hair. “Entitlement only gets you so far, you need brains to get anywhere, and a majority of this school doesn’t really have any.” You continued on, knowing that a few students must’ve heard. 

“You’re going to get in trouble for saying things like that, y’ know.” He whispered. “It’s the truth, and maybe for once, the school would shut up and mind their own business.” You spoke a bit too soon because a bundle of boys came trudging their way over.

“I heard (Y/N) and Dean are really together, look they’re all touchy and--” 

“Crabbe, Goyle. Do me a favor and put a cork in it.” Draco sneered, leaning against the pillar as he watched people from a distance.

Yes, most would find it creepy. But Draco was much more observant to the people around the two of you rather than just you. Keen to people’s words, the way they spoke hollow lies, yet it seemed it mattered more than the value of truth. Deception and myths blinded people, false hope. He stares too often, but it’s mostly the people around rather than the person. He did it with Potter, got him in trouble more times than he could ever count. 

But Draco knew the truth, he did it to help him. It was the only time he could ever see you, without other’s wandering eyes. He just didn’t feel the overwhelming need to do anything or desire. Crabbe and Goyle still praised him, always as countless other Slytherins, but it didn’t help that he himself felt guilt. Felt like a complete blistering idiot for rejecting probably the best opportunity he could’ve had, but he made his word of it to never come in contact if there was a chance of it down spiraling… if things were to get out of proportion.

You made sure to give the biggest grimace to the leader of the boys, looming over you as he shifted his weight on his back leg. 

“Heard you two were together,” he jeered, his misshapen finger pointing accusingly at Dean. “the muggle-born.” The attempt to belittle your friend made you scoff aloud, unlike Dean, who’d kept his head down to avoid the spur of conflict. 

“Obviously you’ve heard wrong because we’re not together. That or you’re just plain stupid.” The male looked baffled before he stomped closer to you, a poor attempt of intimidation. “What did you just call me?” 

“(Y/N), quit it.” Dean tried to reason, finally looking up from the ground. 

“I think you heard me, or are your eardrums clogged? You know what, don’t answer that, we all know the answer to that,” you taunted. “The latter one, if you didn’t already know.” You saw red. That and the sudden silence of everyone nearby, practically gawking at the scene before them; it even caught Draco’s full attention, making a beeline straight for you. 

The boy suddenly grabbed the collar of your robes, his other hand reaching down to reveal his wand, you let out a maniac laugh. 

“Are you that embarrassed that you attack a woman? Especially one unarmed as you reach for your--” 

“Oh shut up!” He screamed, his wand pressing against your chin, making an indent on your skin. “You just wait and see you--” 

“I dare you to finish that sentence,” someone grunted; a wand pressed against the male’s head, who shivered. You didn’t need to look twice to know it was Draco, though you were more irritated that he came to help you now than relieved. 

Doesn’t give you a glance and suddenly came to act like your knight in shining armor out of the blue? 

“Go on,” Draco rasped, “get on with it. Finish what you were going to say before I came here.” You felt the pointed piece of wood disappear, a slight tremble in his hands as he placed his wand to the side. 

“I can’t...” the student croaked. Draco’s furrowed his eyebrows and twisted his face, adding pressure. “And why can’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly chickened out, have you?” He remained silent before Draco finally released him with a quick click of his tongue. “Beat it, coward.” 

As if on cue he scurried away, not once looking back. Draco gave you a steady look, scanning your face for any sign of injuries, mutely. 

“If all you’re going to do is stare, I’m going to leave,” you said, patting down the wrinkles in your robes. Draco didn’t say anything as he grabbed your forearm, tugging you along to who-knows-where. Stopping in front of Goyle and Crabbe, he growled. 

“By the time I get back, I demand to know everything about that tosser, clear?” The compliant nods cracked a small smile from Draco, before whispering something to the boys you weren’t able to catch. He turned back to you and gave you a hard stare, turning around and yanking you with him. 

The walk overall was uncomfortable. You were petrified to try and break the heavy silence, knowing Draco was still full of steam. The doors to the library swung open as he made his way inside, his grip as vicious as a viper, tightening at the slightest struggle. 

“Are you always trying to get yourself into trouble?” He snapped, pushing you towards a bookshelf, and trapping you with his arms. You hated this. Being stuck beside him, near him, when he hinted there was nothing he could do to change anything between you. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, Draco. I have nothing to say to you, so let me leave.” You ordered, searching for a way to flee. 

“I don’t care if you don’t have anything to say to me, because I know you’re lying and I have things to say, so you’re not going anywhere until we sort this out.” A pained laugh followed from his words finally decided to stare up at him and into his eyes. 

“I think we’ve already sorted it out, you established that weeks ago, if you’ve forgotten,” you chided, ignoring your shaky breaths. “There is nothing to sort out, ‘cause we aren’t any--” 

“Don’t finish that sentence.” 

“And why not, huh? Afraid it’ll hurt your ego if I might?” You wanted to stop, you really did. You didn’t understand the words coming out from your mouth, but in that second everything within you just broke. 

“We are nothing, you made it crystal clear, Draco. Don’t tell me you’re suddenly backing out on your word--” 

You felt something on your lips. Something soft, wet. 

He was kissing you. Draco Malfoy was kissing you. It wasn’t happy either, it was vulnerable. His hands intertwined with yours desperately, assertive and fragile. It wasn’t until then you realized he had been crying from your words, his actions. 

When he pulled away his head hung low, ashamed. 

“I’m sorry. If you still hate me you can hit me, do whatever you want. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry, for everything.” His eyes pierced into yours, another tear forming on his tear-streaked face. “You deserve much better than me.” 

Again, you were in a tight spot. 

Could you accept him? This time? 

You got what you wanted, he finally decided to open himself up to you, after months of trying, months of failures. But now… you didn’t know. He was so distracted by everyone around him, would it work? The two of you? 

Weeks ago, you would’ve been all for it; ready to face the world if it meant he was by your side every time, both thick and thin. 

But now you were thinking, actually taking the time to think it through… were you going mad? You loved him to death, without a doubt, but what would happen if his father did find out? It would be an emotional hell for him. 

What if you weren’t enough for him, and he realized that? 

“(Y/N), nononononono don’t you ever discredit yourself… ever.” He panicked, taking your face into his hands and raising your eyes to him. You didn’t even realize you voiced out your thoughts to him.

“You are everything, (Y/N). Nothing would change that, you did nothing wrong. I did it, okay? It’s my fault.” And there it was...

It’s my fault. 

“Why are you so persistent in everything being blamed on you. Why do you intentionally make people blame you?” 

“Because it’s easier to have everyone hate you then knowing your true intentions… your true feelings. It’s been easier, until now,” he explained, muttering the last part under his breath. “When you asked what was stopping me…” Draco trailed on. “...It’s been me. I know, it’s stupid but… I don’t want to be broken again, (Y/N). Not again. So I tried to push you away, evidently, that didn’t work.” He joked, stroking your hands. 

“I’m not asking anything of you, (Y/N). I just wanted to say I’m sorry; I won’t ask for your hand, just know that you mean more to me than anything. Whether we’re rivals or more.” 

He said gingerly, a little grin forming on his face. 

You thought again. 

Was it really okay for him? Was he really all right with everything? With the thought of you hating him and moving on? Being nothing more? 

“Draco…” you whispered, you didn’t believe the words coming out from your mouth. “Will you go out with me?” 

Draco was speechless for a while, before kissing the top of your forehead. “Only if you’ll have me.” 

You’ll take a chance, if he was willing to, you’d take it any day. 

_________________________

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