#Our roof is finally fixed though‚ so there's that. It rained for two days and the rain stayed outside instead of coming in. It's been a

[meetmyothersouls]

How about a story where reader moves to a house that’s haunted by ghost Timothee that goes from spooky to hurt/comfort? Thanks

Holy shit now here’s an idea 😍😍 this may turn into a series and I’m not even sorry about it!

The Ghost of You

Chapter 1

Warnings: lots of background info to start so bare with me it gets good, spooky, haunted house, paranormal activity

The price alone should have been a red flag, but you needed a place to stay. Something more permanent that the hotels you’d been hopping from every week. See, the owners were fine with short stays: a week, maybe even two. Extended stays seemed to almost always be out of the question in New York. After being kicked out of your third hotel for the month, you happened upon an ad in a newspaper of all places. The advertisement illustrated a gorgeous Victorian home, with a wrap-around porch, a turret attached to side with windows going all the way up and a once beautifully shingled roof top that met at a point. At one point, you were sure it had been painted light blue with dark shutters. You thought of the family that had probably lived there at some point. The memories they shared inside of it. Sure, now it did look a bit...well, dilapidated, but for $150,000, there was no way you could pass this up. You had exactly $300,000 in your savings. If you could make an offer without the threat of them checking your credit, the house could be yours...and your hotel hopping days would be over. 

After calling the number on the paper and speaking to a rather chipper real estate agent, you took a taxi to the address listed in the paper: 2698 Marshville Manor Dr. located in Poughkeepsie, NY. You decided that the address sounded nice enough, and from what that agent had told you on the phone, it shouldn’t take much to fix the house up. It was about a 30-minute drive from your current hotel to Marshville Manor, just enough time for you to gather your thoughts and what you were going to say. You wanted to really sell them on your $300,000...hopefully less, you did, after all, need some money to keep yourself alive. What good was a new house if you had nothing to take care of yourself with. 

When you finally arrived, the real estate agent waited eagerly on the porch. The house was more like a mansion and the paint that you had decided at one point was light blue, was completed faded off, giving the house an over-all grayish-brown color. Shutters hung off the face of the house by a single hinge and the giant oak tree whose branches would have once covered the entire front yard with shade, barely stood on its own. I stepped out of the taxi and before I had the chance to pay him, the driver sped off, waving as he did. 

“Hi!” A short woman wearing a pantsuit shuffled over to me. “You must be y/n! I’m Agatha, we spoke on the phone about the house.” 

“Hi,” I said, offering my hand to her. 

She shook it vigorously with two sweaty, warm hands before continuing, “well, I think we can go ahead and go forward with the payment, yes?” 

“Oh, already? You, uh, you don’t want to show me the inside?” “The inside?” Agatha looked over her shoulder back at the house before giving and almost audible shudder. “Of course. Follow me,” she said, her once chipper, eager mood, fully melted away. I heard her swallow hard and mutter something under her breath as our feet crunched over the dead leaves that piled high in the driveway and into the yard. 

“You’ll have to either hire someone for yard work or do it yourself, if you’re into that sort of thing,” Agatha said, gesturing to the condition of the yard. “In the fall, you’ll get lots of leaves, as you can see, and in the summer, depending on the amount of rain we get, the grass grows very tall, in the front only though, not the back...for whatever reason.” 

A small set of stairs, which creaked and groaned as we stepped on them led us onto the wrap around porch of the once beautiful house. Agatha swung the front door open, and an immediate cold burst of hair hit us in the face, our hair blowing back as it faced us. Another shudder from Agatha told you that she felt it as well. 

“After you,” she said, motioning for you to go in first. You offered a nervous smile and nod and stepped inside. To your shock, it was fully furnished, albeit very old and very dusty furnishings. 

“Everything you see in this house, is authentic, full Victorian style decor and is yours with the house, if you decide to purchase.”

Despite the smell of rotting wood and seemingly ancient antiques, you were floored.

“Someone just left all this?” You asked.

“It’s not uncommon, for hold houses. A lot of times the owners left due to bankruptcy, divorce, death.” 

Chills made their way down your spine at the last word. You didn’t read anything about their being a death in the house, surly if there was it would have been mentioned by now-

A loud thud sounded from one of the upper floors in the house, sending Agatha running for the door. 

“Alright. miss. I’m sure you’d like some time to think all this over and what have you. Thank you for-”

“No, I’ll take it. I’m not sure how much of an offer to make or how any of this works really.” 

Agatha hesitated for a moment, seeming almost unsure if I had actually spoke the words she heard. “I believe the asking price in the ad was $150,000.”

“Perfect. I have that right now. Cash?” you said, pulling out the zipped-up pouch you kept your savings in.  

Night one was when it started. 

Night one was when you felt like there was something...or someone watching you. Watching every move you made. It was impossible, you thought to yourself many nights that night. Before the sun went down, you inspected the mansion from top to bottom, looked in every closet, every crevice, any place that someone could have been hiding. 

There was no one. 

That’s what you kept telling yourself, as the night went on. Eventually, you were able to doze off. You were unaware of the number of times it happened, but you woke up to the feeling of blankets sliding down your legs. Occasionally, you caught a quick glimpse of them moving and yanked them toward you. You felt resistance, like someone was on the other side holding on to them. 

“Out.” You heard a male’s voice whisper, the “T” was sharp, and it sent chills down your spine. 

You pushed away the idea that someone was in there with you. It was your first night in your new home. It was going to take some getting used to. Only night two proved that that would be a task easier said than done. Crashes and thumps heard throughout the house during the day, amplified at night. Growling and even more harsh whispering haunted you as you tried to sleep. The pulling of blankets turned into the pulling of your ankles, jerking you down the mattress. This time, you were sure it wasn’t a dream. You were sure there was someone in there with you. As you tried to pull your knees to your chest, the same resistance from the night before was felt, as if fingers were tightly wrapped around your skin, squeezing and pulling you off the bed. 

“Let me go!” You yelled. You kicked with your free foot only to be met with air. There was no one there, but you found yourself begging. “Please, let me go!” 

As quickly as the words left your mouth, the grip on your ankle was released. You brought your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. It was freezing in your room, but you were sweating and as our chest rose and fell rapidly in an attempt to catch your breath, you lost it again as the figure of a man stood in your doorway. 

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence

[waotzi]

Imaginary House

Many unexpected things happened, I was just going with my heart. Not having clear directions, just a vague ideas of what I could do. I didn't plan for this to happen, but of course I had wished for an encounter with another. Over the years I have managed to somehow deal with my loneliness, even if it would come back ever so often. Creating a desire inside me to connect with another in a deeper way I had ever done before.

With no clear direction I simply let things happen as they are, and to my surprise I had met somebody. I had no expectations, surely no one would ever fall in love with me. To my surprise it felt like we had a genuine connection. I felt like she cared for me and showed me interest. After the first time we met, she had to go quite quickly and so I was left for a longing for her to return, writing her everyday. Waiting patiently.

She finally came and I felt like the Lord had finally blessed me. For some reason things were going well. I had never expected a relationship to come this suddenly and so lovingly. I had never met someone like you.

On top of the hill we started building our relationship. One beam at a time, bricks for the walls. It stood still and calmly, but rain was about to hit and we still had no roof. We got drenched, we had some differences between us, it felt difficult at first, we had to overcome our past that we were carrying with us. A baggage pulling us down. It was nothing severe, although having just met this person it felt like a tornado had hit me.

After the rain there was moments of sun again. A time to build and have fun. We had a lot of fun. We played outside, drove around. It started feeling less akward and we started becoming more comfortable with each other.

We returned home, this time closer than ever. A new place to build, but with every happy moment came another disaster, a trigger that made the sky dark and turned us into demons. Fighting through the night until there was no more energy to expend. Exhausted we lied there, cuddling. It was comforting that even though we had the tough times we would reconsile in our arms and forgive each other. It made me love her even more that we didn't just seperate when there was a conflict.

I settled down into a new place, closer to her. We started building it up. Making it comfortable for both of us. We could finally see each other more frequently. I started to feel like I had finally found someone, that my endless solo journey has come to an end and now there will be two of us. The two of us to venture out and make new experiences.

We went on a few trips, but one day when we returned the door was broken and the neighbours came in. It was a surprise to us and there was a lot of confusion about the place, wondering if we should go somewhere else. It did not take long for a wise woman to appear and calm our nerves. It was alright for now. We can continue here. We will see how it goes.

There were more challenges to come, but we kept going. Before I knew it the biggest challenge came upon us. There was another man. A shadow of the past following us. Taunting us in our new settlement. It was the biggest storm yet to come. The biggest challenge to face. A tornado hit us, and we got blown into the sky. With rage, fear, anger, sadness, angst, a confusion never felt before. We tried our best to land, avoiding the obstacles. Many things of the past that I didn't know came out. Twisted truths. Things I thought were not true. I was lied to and shocked at first.

We finally crawled back, the house barely standing. Bruises in and outside us, but we kept going and made the best out of the evening. Temporarily fixing the windows with whatever resources we had.

Sadly this was just the beginning of the end. She had to go. And I was left with a half broken house barley standing. I wasn't sure how to make it, luckily everday a pigeon would come. Leaving behind words of encouragment, until one day. I finally woke up.

There was never a house to begin with. The entire house was build on lies. The bricks were filled with sand. The beams filled with ashes. The whole house collapsed in an instant. Leaving nothing but the dust.

The whole time I was being lied to. I believed every word. I was so gullible to think we had a future. I was left with nothing but the most basic foundation with cracks going deep inside it. Breaking ever so slowly, becoming weaker each day.

I tried to understand. I wanted to forgive. I wanted to disbelieve. I wanted a lot, but I didn't want to let go. It was too painful for me. The night was the darkest I had lived through for a long time. I woke up still with nothing but a broken place. I kept trying to fix something, while she is gone, but no matter what I tried the cracks kept getting bigger.

It did not take long before the ground started to shake, breaking apart the last bits of stability. I wanted her to understand that I am in ruins, hoping that she would care. Begging for words of encouragment. But instead I was greeted with even more harsh words. There was only a single straw left, that eventually broke with her words of ignorance.

The ground is ruined, I am sitting on a rock. Left with nothing, but myself. No idea what awaits me. Anything could happen. For now I will stay still. Waiting for my next omen to appear.

It's been quite the journey, and many more to come...

[heyiwrotesomethings]

It’s Been Too Long

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: Alright Shinobu Community, take a fuckin’ sip babes. It’s kind of a long one. My brain was like, friends to enemies to friends to lovers? To which I replied, this is going to be simultaneously too long and too short. I love me some slow burn but also I can’t justify putting that much time into something like this lol. While writing this I learned that one becomes a Hashira by killing a demon moon OR killing at least fifty demons. I didn't know that before, but I was in too deep to fix things. Y’all are a Kinoe rank that probably should be a Hashira given how much slaying you’ve done, sorry! As far as warnings go, I think we’re good. Unless fighting and misunderstandings aren’t your thing. It’ll all be better in the end though!  Word Count: 15,088 

The estate was dark and bleak. It had rained for nearly a week straight, the patter of water against the solid structure of the tiled roof was a near constant companion to the blank static of despair that clouded everyone’s minds.

Kochou Kanae had died of lethal injuries bequeathed to her by a high ranking demon who had left her to bleed out as the sun made its appearance. Perhaps if it had risen even just a few minutes prior, she could have evaded such a cruel fate.

Shinobu had found her of course, the world is just that cruel, or perhaps kind in giving her sister that closure, to be able to see her one last time before she took her last gurgling breath.

It was appropriate, the rain. After the funeral it was a temporary reminder of the warmth that had been reaped from the estate, never to be felt again in this lifetime. Not that (Y/n), Kanao, Aoi, or the youngest residents of the estate needed a reminder. Shinobu certainly didn’t either.

“Shinobu, you didn’t come to dinner. Please try to eat something.” (Y/n) coaxed, sliding the door open. The only light came from a small lantern inside the swirling gloom of the room, highlighting Shinobu hunched over her desk with her head in her hands. “Shinobu?”

“It’s only been a week.” (Y/n) strained to hear the taut whisper of the girl who had grown to be her closest friend. The girl who had given her a second chance at life when she had nowhere else to go. It hurt to hear her sound so broken. “It feels like time is standing still and going too fast at the same time.”

(Y/n) set the light meal in front of Shinobu and leaned against the desk, the wood creaked slightly as she did so. “I know what you mean. I feel the same.”

It wasn’t the first time they’ve talked like this. To be survivors of such unthinkable atrocities, one could go crazy keeping it all locked inside. The guilt, fear, helplessness... sometimes the memories played on loop night after night, waking up to the screams in their minds making sick harmonies with their own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Shinobu spoke tentatively after a moment of drizzling static tapping against the roof. She raised herself just enough to wrestle a paper out from under her arms and slid it to (Y/n). “Oyakata-sama has sent me a summons to meet with him and the Hashira. He intends for me to take,” Shinobu’s voice grew tighter and she could not bring herself to finish, instead a painful sounding intake of air was all that was audible.

(Y/n) took the paper, holding it close to her face as she squinted, the dull light of the lantern made the letter a bit difficult to read, but the message was clear.

“He wants you to take her place.” (Y/n) frowned, a pained gleam pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s been too long, but yet, not long enough,” Shinobu’s fists tightened, “I know the world hasn’t stopped spinning, demons haven’t stopped killing, but why do they want to replace her so quickly? Why are they willing to toss her aside? I don’t...”

“Shinobu,”

Shinobu finally looked up at (Y/n), angry and mournful tears tracked down her face, “I’m not my sister, I’m not Hashira material. I can’t fill the hole she left, (Y/n)!”

(Y/n) abandoned her perch on the desk to crouch beside Shinobu, enveloping her in her arms. Shinobu tightly grasped her back, watery gasps and sharp inhales fell from her lips as she tried to gain control of her breathing once more.

“Oyakata-sama knows you aren’t Kanae. You’re strong in your own right, Shinobu. He wouldn’t breach the subject if he didn’t think you could succeed by your own merits.”

“I have to keep the estate in order, the infirmary, the girls... I can’t take all this responsibility—“

“You don’t have to,” (Y/n) cut her off, the words came a bit sharper than she meant them too, “you’re not alone Shinobu. We can all have our own parts to play. You don’t have to shoulder this all by yourself.”

“Thank you.” Shinobu’s voice cracked.

They had stayed up well into the night. They hardly talked, the two young girls sat huddled together, holding each other tightly. No matter how much they’ve been hurt, time continues moving forward. Just because a boat has been shredded against a reef, that doesn’t mean the waves will grant reprieve from their assault. No, one is expected to keep swimming or to swallow the salty brine and drown. The Butterfly Estate’s allotted time for grief had passed. Now they were being given the not so subtle command that it was time to get back to work.

***

“I wish you could come with me.” Shinobu said the next morning as she sat on the engawa to put on her shoes. “Even if they made you wait outside I would feel a bit better.”

“You’ll be okay, we’ll be thinking about you all day and waiting for you to come back home.” (Y/n) assured, resting her hand on Shinobu’s back. She was almost afraid to touch the haori Shinobu now adorned, as if her hand would pass right through the material.

(Y/n) was surprised when she saw Shinobu wearing it instead of her usual short white haori, though she supposed there was comfort in holding this piece of her sister close. Perhaps the butterfly patterned haori could comfort Shinobu where (Y/n) and the others could not.

(Y/n) must have been staring too long because Shinobu leaned away from her hand, catching it with her own before (Y/n) could withdraw it completely. Shinobu squeezed the hand a moment, (Y/n) swore her heart froze upon seeing the ghostly smile painted over Shinobu’s lips.

“You’re right. No point in fretting over it, is there?”

“...Right,” (Y/n) blinked, “yeah. You’re going to do great.” (Y/n) managed a smile in return but she could feel the corner of her lips tremble at the effort. She wasn’t sure why, but this smile Shinobu was sporting sent chills down her spine.

“I’ll be off then,” Shinobu stood, releasing (Y/n)’s hand as she stepped away from the engawa, “Do make sure to keep everything in order while I’m away.”

“Of course!” (Y/n) winced at her own volume and Shinobu exhaled a quiet chuckle before turning away to make her way down the path. (Y/n) watched until the haunting haori could no longer be seen between the wisteria trees.

***

It was rather late when Shinobu returned. (Y/n) had just helped the youngest girls of the estate get ready for bed and was heading to the kitchens to prepare some tea to help her sleep. She had jumped in her skin when she saw the back of the butterfly patterned haori in the dim lantern light. Shinobu turned at the sound and sent a small, tired smile (Y/n)’s way.

“I thought I’d catch you here before you turned in for the night.” Shinobu spoke. “You almost always take a cup of tea to bed. I hope you don’t mind having some of what I’ve already prepared.”

It wasn’t the first time Shinobu caught her going to the kitchen to make tea. Though usually it was much later in the dead of night when nightmares and grief kept sleep at bay. (Y/n) wasn’t sure what kind of leaves or brewing Shinobu did, but her tea always managed to knock (Y/n) out cold into deep, dreamless bliss. Something about the way Shinobu was speaking was rubbing (Y/n) the wrong way however. There was none of the familiar attitude. The bashful bitterness that came with the sweetness of the tea. (Y/n) decided to shake it off and returned Shinobu’s tired smile. It would take time for things to seem normal again.

“You know me too well. Thank you.” (Y/n) graciously took the cup, relishing in the cup’s warmth and the relaxing scent that wafted off of the steam. “How did today go?”

“It was... fine.” Shinobu’s smile faltered and she quickly disguised it by sipping her own tea. “I’m officially a Hashira. Insect Pillar Kochou Shinobu.”

“It has a nice ring to it.” (Y/n) put in after a moment’s consideration hidden behind the guise of her clearing her throat. She didn’t know if a ‘congratulations’ would be what Shinobu would want to hear give the circumstances that led up to her new title.

“And how was holding down the fort?” Shinobu asked. It seemed she wanted to shift the topic of conversation away from herself. Not that (Y/n) could blame her.

“Everything went smoothly. Well, Aoi did get a bit aggravated with Kanao about one of her coin decisions but we worked it out. Sumi, Kiyo and Naho are picking up the recovery training lessons quickly and are doing very well. The Kakushi have been taking great care of the infirmary. All patients were still stable last I checked in.” (Y/n) reported.

“Thank you for keeping up with all of that.”

“I have to pull my weight around here somehow.” (Y/n) replied, hiding a yawn behind one hand.

“It’s getting late. You should get to bed before the tea kicks in any further.” Shinobu said, putting her own cup down.

“Aren’t you getting tired too?”

“I made myself a different brew, actually. I’ve got more work to do.” Shinobu allowed herself a little sly smile at the tiny frown (Y/n) wore as she looked into her own empty cup as if it had betrayed her somehow.

“Well, don’t forget you need to sleep too. Don’t overwork yourself.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n).” Shinobu called over her shoulder. She was already walking out of the kitchen.

“I mean it Shinobu. Promise me you’ll sleep tonight.” (Y/n) gently demanded, slipping into the hall to fall in step beside Shinobu.

“I’ll promise to try. Is that acceptable?” Shinobu asked, a bit of familiar snark came through and it made (Y/n) relax a bit and nod.

“Alright. Goodnight, Shinobu.”

At the end of the hall they broke off in different directions. Shinobu to the lab and (Y/n) to her room.

***

(Y/n) went through most of her morning routine before going out of her way to find the newly appointed Hashira. She hadn’t seen her since they parted last night. (Y/n) groaned inwardly, already assuming she’d find the young scientist still balancing equations and mixing beakers.

(Y/n) adjusted her butterfly hairpin before knocking her knuckles against the door, waiting for a reply.

“Shinobu?” (Y/n) had called out after another knock led to no reply. (Y/n) frowned and slid the door open of her own volition, closing it behind her once she was inside. It didn’t take long for her to find the exhausted girl hunched over an array of papers, dead asleep.

“When I told you to go to sleep last night, I had your own bed in mind, not a desk.” (Y/n) sighed quietly.

(Y/n) startled at another knock at the door.

“Who is it?” She asked, keeping her voice soft as to not disturb Shinobu.

“It’s Hayato, miss.” The muffled voice called. Ah, one of the Kakushi. “Kochou-sama has guests to attend to.”

“Set them up in the garden with tea, please. Kochou-sama will meet them just as soon as she finishes these papers.” (Y/n) said. It would not do to have news of the young master of the estate sleeping so late in the morning, and at her desk no less.

The Kakushi dismissed himself to carry out his orders and (Y/n)’ shoulders relaxed as his footprints faded down the hall. (Y/n) didn’t want to wake Shinobu, but if her presence was required, then the meeting must be important.

“Hey, Shinobu,” (Y/n) called softly, gently shaking Shinobu’s shoulders, “you have guests that need to see you.”

Shinobu managed to curl further into herself, mumbling a few curses under her breath that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle at.

“Maybe you’d feel better if you had actually gone to bed instead of passing out like this.”

“Who is it, what do they need?” Shinobu grumped, sitting up to stretch her abused spine.

“I’m not sure. A Kakushi came by to tell you about them. I asked him to set them up in the garden with tea.”

“Thank you for taking care of that,” Shinobu rubbed her eyes and stood, her chair scratching against the floor, “I should get going then.”

“Let me fix your hair quick at least.” (Y/n) said, already freeing Shinobu of her own butterfly clip. “Hold still.”

“It’s a little hard when you keep tugging your fingers through my hair.” Shinobu winced.

“Sorry, just a second.” (Y/n) spoke around the butterfly wing that she held between her lips as her fingers worked to gather Shinobu’s hair. Once Shinobu’s hair was neatly clipped back into place, (Y/n) circled her and smoothed out the wrinkles in Shinobu’s clothes the best she could before finally backing away with a satisfied nod.

“Are you done yet?” Shinobu asked, a faint dusting of blush powdered her cheeks.

“Yeah, you still look tired, but at least you look a little more presentable.” (Y/n) said, opening the lab door and ushering Shinobu through it.

“Presentable.” Shinobu scoffed. “Come with me to the garden?”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate. I’m not sure who is visiting.”

“Just make yourself busy in the blooms. You live here, you can go where you please.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

The young girls made their way outside, it was warm and sunny, a bit humid as well after all the rain the week before. The sweet smell of the flowers invited deeper breaths to swallow up the scent into every bronchiole of their lungs.

(Y/n) broke off from Shinobu with a little wave, giving a respectful acknowledgment to the people waiting with their tea before busying herself with the flora. Checking on the quality of the plants as Kanae had taught her. The memories spent with the older girl who had taught her so much made (Y/n) shiver despite the warmth of the sun beating down.

(Y/n) would on occasion, discreetly observe the progression of the meeting. The smile Shinobu wore as she spoke to the visitors unnerved her. Even just the way Shinobu was holding herself now, prim and proper, (Y/n) wondered what they could possibly be talking about.

Then the familiar cawing of a crow circling over her head broke (Y/n) from her thoughts. She released her gentle grip over the flower she had stopped to smell and craned her neck to see her crow calling out to her. A mission, her heartbeat picked up in pace. She hadn’t been on one since a few days before Kanae’s death. How out of practice could she be?

“Pardon the noise,” (Y/n) bowed. The meeting had paused in their hushed conversation to observe the bird as well. (Y/n) hardly gave Shinobu a glance as she past. Her fingers trembling slightly as she made her way back inside to retrieve her nichirin blade from her room. (Y/n)’s mind buzzed and her crow’s caws sounded muted and muffled, far away. She kept walking, willing her breaths to remain controlled. Her concentration broke as a hand reached out from behind her and tugged her back.

(Y/n) turned to meet Shinobu’s eyes. Though more subdued, the concern she saw there was genuine.

“(Y/n), I kept telling you to stop. Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I was just focusing on the mission ahead.”

Shinobu breathed deeply releasing the air in a shaky exhale before gripping (Y/n)’s face in one hand, surprising her.

“No you weren’t.” Shinobu’s grip was firm, “You need to concentrate on your surroundings. I was almost yelling at you just now. I need to know you are going to be able to keep your head about you out there.”

(Y/n) tried to nod her head but Shinobu’s hand kept her head in place.

“I need to hear you say it.” Shinobu said.

“I can keep my head. I will.” (Y/n) swallowed uncomfortably.

Shinobu searched (Y/n)’s face, slowly releasing her grip from (Y/n)‘s jaw and instead grabbed at the neck of (Y/n)’s uniform pulling her so close their noses bumped.

“You better,” She spoke softly.

“I will,” (Y/n) repeated.

Shinobu untensed, her fingers released (Y/n)’s uniform and she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug that (Y/n) quickly reciprocated.

“Your meeting,” (Y/n) recalled after a moment.

“I asked to be excused. I’m the master of the estate, I can get away with escaping for for a few minutes.”

“I wouldn’t make a habit out of it if I were you.” (Y/n) attempted to joke.

“Only when it matters.” Shinobu nodded seriously, causing (Y/n)’s heart to leap.

(Y/n)’s crow cawed impatiently and the girls parted. (Y/n) left to retrieve her blade and Shinobu watched her back as she left, her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the sleeves of her sister’s haori.

***

Night after night, the missions kept coming. (Y/n) had begun to wonder if she’d ever get to go home again as days became weeks. Scattered letters between waves of demon slaying were the best she could manage to make sure everyone back home knew she was alright.

Another night, a new moon. A few more nights and it would be a full month since she’d last seen everyone. She was glad she took the time to say goodbye before she left. She never imagined she’d be asked to work for so long without reprieve.

Another well timed flower breathing technique beheads another demon and (Y/n) falls against the trunk of a tree breathing hard. She is uninjured but greatly fatigued. The thought to sit and rest hardly enters her mind before her crow commands her eastward to eliminate another threat before dawn.

Breath after breath, technique after technique, night after night (Y/n) fought until everything ached and beyond. When she saw the the sun peak out over the horizon it was almost enough to bring (Y/n) to tears, but she never faltered. She had to stay strong. This was the life she chose to pursue. To save people from the same fate that befallen so many people she had cared about.

It was during an exceptionally hot day when the sun was at its highest point that (Y/n) flinched awake at the shrill squawks she had grown to loathe.

“What?” She hissed between her teeth, her fingers knotting in the grass that had served as her bed for the day.

“Return home to the Butterfly Estate! Return home to recover and rest! Await further instruction!”

(Y/n) lifted herself to rest on her elbows to stare wide-eyed at the bird sitting in the tree branch overhead. For the first time in that very long month, she allowed the tears to finally fall.

***

(Y/n) felt nervous coming back after so long. She opted to return from the rear entrance in an attempt to not garner too much attention. She allowed herself a tentative smile as the gardens came into view. Her fingers skimmed across the colorful blooms as she walked, freezing up only when she saw Shinobu collecting herbs in the distance. Her foot snapped a twig, alerting Shinobu to glance behind her.

“Hi, stranger.” Shinobu simpered, getting to her feet. “Oh!”

(Y/n) forgot all her previous worries and jogged up to Shinobu, picking her up with the added strength that she had built up in her month long absence and twirled her around with abandon.

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu chuckled with surprise, bracing her arms around (Y/n)‘s shoulders as she was flung around.

“I missed you!” (Y/n) sniffled, finally putting the girl down but still holding her tightly.

“I missed you too.” Shinobu said, rubbing (Y/n)’s back. “What took so long getting back, hm?”

“Mission after mission after mission.” came (Y/n)’s bitter reply. “I actually cried when my crow told me I could come home... I don’t know why I told you that. That’s embarrassing.”

Shinobu laughed, pulling back from (Y/n) to get a good look at her. “My, (Y/n), I can tell your time away had made you stronger. Even if you are still a bit of a crybaby.”

“Hey!” (Y/n) pouted.

“(Y/n) is back!”

“Woah!”

(Y/n) was sent stumbling backward a few steps by three blurs of white. Naho, Sumi and Kiyo spoke a mile a minute filling in (Y/n) on all the goings on of the estate. Aoi and Kanao came by soon after and gave (Y/n) their own greetings, expressing their happiness over the slayer’s return in their own ways.

It was good to be home, it was. But after a few days, (Y/n) really got a chance to see how different Shinobu had become.

The tone of her voice carried like a soft breeze and a polite smile could always be seen on her lips. Aoi reminded (Y/n) more of the Shinobu she remembered than the current Shinobu before her. It unnerved her. The way Shinobu would tilt her head just so and giggle daintily into her hand... it was like staring at a ghost.

(Y/n) thought she could get over the change, but she simply couldn’t. Not when staring into those dark, purple eyes. Oh, how they swirled with anger and despair. If Shinobu couldn’t fully believe in the persona she had crafted for herself, then (Y/n) wouldn’t either. Late one night while helping Shinobu in the lab, (Y/n) finally decided to confront her.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?” (Y/n) frowned, worrying the page of the textbook before her between her fingers.

“Hm? I’m afraid I don’t quite know what you mean.” Shinobu replied casually, smile still firmly in place as she crushed some herbs under her pestle.

“You do too know what I mean,” (Y/n) eyebrows furrowed slightly in aggravation, “why do you keep smiling like you’re okay when you’re clearly not?”

“What have I said or done that makes you think I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine, (Y/n),” she chuckled, “you worry for nothing.”

“That mask might have everyone else fooled... or maybe they’re just complacent, but I’m tired of pretending nothing is wrong. Talk to me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Shinobu shook her head, “there is nothing to discuss. Perhaps I’ve kept you up too late.”

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you’re truly feeling,” (Y/n) persisted, “not from me at least. I thought we were friends.”

“We are.” Shinobu’s tone was nearly clipped as she crushed the herbs a bit more vigorously.

“Then stop acting so, so fake!” (Y/n) spat, wincing almost immediately as fast has the words came out. There was probably a better way she could have said that. Before she could apologize and try again, Shinobu put the pestle on the table with a harsh clink and stalked over to where (Y/n) was sitting. Fighting to keep her tone in check, she stared (Y/n) down with that plastic smile and spoke in a low, hushed tone that filled (Y/n)’s veins with ice.

“So I’m fake, is that right? People change, (Y/n). You were gone for a month, you can’t expect everyone to wait for you, to not change or grow in your absence.”

“People change, yes,” (Y/n) swallowed tightly at the proximity, “but whatever this is Shinobu, I really don’t think it’s healthy. I can tell you’re bottling something up. Kanae—”

“Leave.”

“...what?”

“Leave,” Shinobu closes the textbook in front of (Y/n) and although she does so with care, the sound is deafening in (Y/n)’s ears, “I don’t care where you go, just get out of my lab. I’ve had my fill of this mindless chatter.”

“Are you being serious right now?” (Y/n) clenched her fists and stood from her chair, the legs slid roughly against the wood below.

“Yes, I don’t have time for immature children right now I’m afraid.” Came Shinobu’s airy reply.

“Immature— stop acting like you know better than me, we’re both kids, we’re fourteen!“ (Y/n) seethes, “I’m worried about you! I care about you! Don’t you get it?”

“Your worry is unfounded. It’s late and you are being of no help to me like this so I’ll ask you once more, leave.”

(Y/n) felt heat pricking the corners of her eyes. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.” She breathed. “But fine, I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”

“At this moment in time, I couldn’t ask for anything better.” Shinobu replied, turning her back to (Y/n) to continue what she had previously been working on.

Once (Y/n) shut the door with finality and her quick footsteps became softer as she ran down the hall, Shinobu exhaled harshly, gripping the pestle tightly in her hand as she mercilessly pounded the dried herbs into dust.

“Only immature people don’t control their emotions... only immature people...”

As Shinobu repeated her mantra, (Y/n) burst into her room and looked around her. With trembling hands she changed into a fresh uniform and packed a small bag of belongings and slinging it over her shoulder. She grabbed her haori and attached her nichirin blade to her hip.

She looked around the room once more and caught her reflection in the little hand mirror on her desk, catching the bright colors of a wing that secured her hair in place. She reached back, freeing her hair from the clip and stared at it. She ran her thumb over the decorative clip before setting it on the desk. She reached for a plain hair band and tied her hair back with that instead.

(Y/n) left her room, sparing one last hurt glance at the butterfly clip before exiting the estate grounds. Before long, her crow circled overhead and (Y/n) held her arm out for the bird to take perch. The crow cawed at her expectantly, questioning her.

“If she wants me to leave, then what else is there to do?” (Y/n) shuddered in the wind. She turned away from the estate, willing herself not to turn back.

“Where will you go?” The crow asked.

“...I don’t know.”

With every step leaving the warmth of the estate farther behind, (Y/n)’s heart grew heavier in her chest.

***

“Have any of you seen (Y/n) today?” Shinobu asked the girls once they had come back in after hanging the laundry out to dry.

A chorus of negatives and head shakes met her and she sighed inwardly. “Very well then. Thank you.”

Shinobu traveled through the maze of hallways that made up her home, easily finding herself in front of (Y/n)’s door, knocking politely. With no reply, Shinobu forced herself not to roll her eyes and opened the door.

“(Y/n), if this is about last night...” Shinobu blinked at the empty room. Futon made, clean floors, not a thing out of place, but no (Y/n).

“Perhaps she’s out training.” Shinobu said to herself. She was about to close the door and head off into the gardens when a glint from the desk caught her eye and she approached. A soft gasp left her lips as she picked up the hairpin. Cradling it in her hands, Shinobu forced her breaths to remain controlled. (Y/n) had never gone a day without wearing the pin since the Kochou sisters gifted it to her.

In the safety of the empty room, Shinobu allowed herself to slump over the desk. She held the discarded hairpin close to her chest, immediately understanding what this small symbol meant. Yes, she knew what it meant, she just wished to know why. She fought against the waves, against the feeling that she was drowning again.

***

Four years was a long time, and if you asked (Y/n), the demon slayer would say that was especially true with her line of work. The demons were never the same, but the routine in between was lonely and dull. Kill a demon, settle down at an inn or in the trees for the day, move to the next village and repeat. Sometimes the stays were longer, but that was the gist of it.

(Y/n) kept to herself most of the time. There wasn’t really a point in making anything more than loose acquaintances with the constant traveling and dangers her work presented. Even on the few missions she had been paired up with other slayers in the area, she focused on the job at hand before quickly making her way to her next assignment. That started to change after she met Kamado Tanjirou and his demon sister Nezuko.

They did not get off on the right foot to say the least.

(Y/n) had been sent to the same location as the young slayer for a mission and knew something was off about him right away. Something off with that box he carried around anyway. (Y/n) opted to let him be for the time being, focusing on the mission ahead. Skip forward to the heat of battle, and (Y/n) could hardly believe her eyes when a demon burst from the boy’s box to attack another demon that had snuck around Tanjirou’s back.

(Y/n) had no time to watch and focus on this new development at the moment, she had her own demons to take care of. Her flower breathing techniques weaved through her enemies and heads went flying. Before long, the mission was completed and (Y/n) turned to the boy breathing heavily in the dirt with the demon from the box hovering over him looking at (Y/n) with curious eyes.

“You’re really skilled, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou praised, somehow unaware of the danger his sister was in, “You don’t even look like you’re out of breath.”

“I’ve been doing this for years. I know a lot. For instance,” (Y/n) spoke, her face stern as stone as she readied her blade, startling Tanjirou, “every demon must be destroyed.” She went in with a quick slash aimed at the demon’s neck  only to pause at the last second when the foolish younger boy leapt to his feet to shield the demon from the blow.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked sternly.

“Wait, she’s my sister! She’s a good demon!”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that what you are doing is against corps rules. I can sympathize with wanting to hold onto your loved ones, but there is no such thing as a good demon. Step aside.”

“No, Nezuko has never eaten a human and she never will!” Tanjirou held his ground while his sister growled at (Y/n) from behind him.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Alright then,” she said with a sarcastic sweetness, “prove it.”

“What?” Tanjirou blinked.

“Prove it, take off the muzzle. Let’s see if she has as much control as you claim she does.”

“But—“

“It shouldn’t be a problem, right? If she’s as docile as you claim what’s the issue?”

Tanjirou grit his teeth and gently pulled the muzzle to rest around his sister’s neck. (Y/n) stepped forward, her face inches away from the demon. She wasn’t worried, if the demon lunged for her she was confident she could slice its head the moment the air changed.

“Well demon?” (Y/n) sighed, surprising Tanjirou by slicing the pad of her thumb on her sharp blade, “hungry?”

To Nezuko’s credit, she hardly flinched. However, her eyes followed the path of the blood and a small trickle of drool slid past her lips. (Y/n) taunted her a bit further, waving the bloodied hand in front of her nose, still Nezuko held strong and even went as far as turning away.

“...I must say, I’m rather impressed,” (Y/n) finally spoke, stepping back from the demon and licking at her own wound, “marechi blood such as my own usually makes the demons go crazy,” she turns back to Tanjirou, “still, you must know that keeping a demon alive like this, especially as a slayer, is dangerous for both of you.”

“I know,” Tanjirou bowed his head.

“Well,” (Y/n) stretched and sighed, “as long as you know I guess it’s your own problem.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, just don’t call me out if a Hashira finds you out. I don’t feel like dying a disgrace.” (Y/n) waved him off. “You’re going to have to work even harder and be more discreet. That’s my advice to you.” And (Y/n) was going to leave it at that and walk away, but then her crow chanted in tandem with Tanjirou’s, calling them to continue forward together. (Y/n)′s eye twiched at the grating sounds.

“It looks like we’ll still be working together for some time, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou smiled, catching the older girl off guard by the sincerity behind it. You’d think he’d be more put off considering (Y/n) was planning to kill his sister not five minutes ago.

“I suppose we are.”

“Say, (Y/n)-san, you’re strong. You can help me get stronger too, right?”

“Mm!”

“Hey, get her off of me!” (Y/n) momentarily panicked as the demon wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Nezuko, manners!”

(Y/n) wasn’t sure what she had done to get saddled with the strange siblings, but she could tell her job just went above her pay grade.

***

As it turns out, the Kamado siblings weren’t so bad. In fact, (Y/n) was starting to get really attached to the two. It was when Inosuke and Zenitsu were pulled into their little group, that was when (Y/n) realized she didn’t know what true pain was.

“(Y/n)-san, marry me!”

“Flower Girl, fight me!”

All damn day and night.

(Y/n) thought she’d finally have reprieve once Tanjirou had healed up at the Wisteria House, but of course the two boisterous boys were being sent with them to their next mission, Natagumo Mountain.

Zenitsu cowered at the forest edge and (Y/n) felt no remorse in leaving him behind as she sprinted ahead of Inosuke and Tanjirou, freeing the puppeted Mizunoto slayers.

Eventually they had been split off from each other to fight their own battles. (Y/n) was tired but otherwise unharmed, surprised when a small Nezuko came barreling into her.

“Nezu—?” (Y/n) gasped as the air shifted above her and she dodged the quick swipe aimed at the tiny body that clung to her. She quickly pivoted, blade in hand, and crossed swords with the assailant her eyes blowing wide at the placid face in front of her.

“Kanao?!” (Y/n) yelled out, the nostalgia and adrenaline coursing through her body was an odd, slightly terrifying combination.

Kanao tilted her head, her lips parted ever so slightly as recognition gleamed in her eyes. Despite this, Kanao did have a mission to complete and (Y/n) was keeping her from completing her orders. She continued swiping at the older girl she used to know, trying to behead the demon she could not fathom why she was protecting.

(Y/n) parried and blocked best she could, taking a defensive approach while she tried to talk Kanao down. She didn’t want to hurt Kanao, but she didn’t want Nezuko to be killed either.

Finally a saving grace, a crow swooping by with a message that saved Nezuko’s neck. (Y/n) sighed in relief as Kanao pulled back. Still looking at (Y/n) she pointed to the small demon that had wrapped herself tightly over (Y/n)’s back.

“Is this Nezuko?” She asked looking for a positive ID on the demon in question.

“Yes.” (Y/n) easily replied.

“Come with me then.” Kanao said, already corralling (Y/n) and her demon backpack in the direction of the forest edge.

(Y/n) walked alongside her a bit begrudgingly. If she made a break for it, she could have probably gotten away, but it was very likely Tanjirou and the others were already in custody. The best chance they had now was to do as they were told and hope Nezuko’s resolve would stand firm.

So (Y/n) hid Nezuko in her haori as the sun began to peak over the hills and followed Kanao to the clearing of bustling Kakushi. On the way, she began preparing her story for the trial she was sure her little team was bound to endure.

She was immediately broken from her thoughts at the ethereal sight of the Insect Pillar emerging from another point of the woods with the Water Pillar and a badly beaten Tanjirou on his back.

(Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as those deep, dark eyes found hers at it was like time was at a stand still. At least it would have been if not for Shinobu steadily making her way towards her, her expression painfully impassive beyond the small upturn of her lips. Shinobu kept coming until she was directly in front of (Y/n).

Nezuko stirred in her sleep, clutching at (Y/n)’s back as if she could sense anxiety in the slayer’s heart. The demon was the only thing grounding her at this point as Shinobu tilted her head, an almost sinister look in her eye as she observed the small demon bundle protected by (Y/n)’s haori. All too soon, her cold eyes found their way back to (Y/n)’s and she spoke.

“I’m not going to have to tie you up, am I?”

(Y/n) closed her eyes briefly and tried to take a calming breath. With a short, almost imperceivable shake of her head, she hoarsely replied.

“No.”

“Let’s try to keep it that way then.”

Shinobu and Kanao had let (Y/n) help Nezuko into her box, but then they immediately separated the two, having a Kakushi carry the box with a wary look in her eyes. (Y/n) did her best not to look behind her where Kanao and Shinobu walked, no doubt watching her for any sign of flight.

She gulped, eyes nervously shifting to the Water Pillar walking beside her, and the Kakushi who was now carrying Tanjirou in his stead. The Water Pillar spared her an emotionless glance as he forged ahead.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked in a hushed tone.

Enough time had passed after her question that (Y/n) had figured the man wasn’t in the mood to talk, understandably so, but (Y/n) was worried about the state Tanjirou was in. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he actually answered her minutes later.

“That will all depend on how the trial goes.”

(Y/n) felt dread pool in her stomach as they continued to march down the mountain.

***

The garden of the Master’s estate would have been lovely on any other occasion, but (Y/n) could only bring herself to stare at the pebbles below her knees and Tanjirou passed out at her side. They had taken Nezuko somewhere else in the meantime, she could only hope they would let the demon be, let her prove herself in front of them instead of killing her on principle.

(Y/n) could feel that Shinobu was standing just behind her but she dared not engage. Four years of silence between the two and a trial for treason in the highest regard had brought them together again. (Y/n) wanted to scream.

Finally Tanjirou began to stir and (Y/n) allowed herself to push away her turmoil to rouse the younger boy gently. The last thing they needed was for him to be all up in arms before the trial even officially began.

“(Y/n)-san,” Tanjirou winced, “where are we? Where is Nezuko?”

“We’re at the Demon Slayer Headquarters,” (Y/n) replied, her voice was hardly above a whisper as she felt the pressure of all the Hashira’s eyes boring into them, “I don’t know where they’re keeping Nezuko, but right now you need to focus on the trial ahead.”

“The trial?”

“For harboring a demon, Tanjirou.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying to justify it! A crime as heinous as yours only ends one way!” Rengoku Kyojirou loudly proclaimed, rallying a range of replies from his fellow pillars.

“Now that he’s finally awake to witness his punishment, let’s behead these traitors and the demon and get on with our lives.” Uzui Tengen added.

“Please,” (Y/n) forced her voice not to waiver, “allow him to explain the situation at least—“

“You’re in no position to be asking for favors, girl.” Obanai Iguro cut her off, glaring down at her from where he lounged on a tree branch. “You had best hold your tongue. A slayer at your rank should be ashamed. I’m surprised you haven’t already sliced yourself open for the embarrassment you’ve brought to the corps.”

“Iguro-san!” Kanroji gasped at the harsh words.

“Who are these people, (Y/n)-san?” Tanjirou groaned, noticing for the first time that his hands were tied tightly behind his back.

“Tanjirou, are you serious?” (Y/n)’s tone was hushed and urgent, “they’re the Hashira! You know, best of the demon slayers?”

“I don’t know, umph!” (Y/n) hastily covered his mouth, a nervous sweat gathered at her brow.

“Just try to be respectful, will you? You already broke the thin ice you’ve been traveling on, let’s try not to drown as well!”

“This isn’t right, (Y/n)-san! Where is Nezuko? Zenitsu? Inosuke? Murata?” Tanjirou spoke out, his voice heavy with emotion as he fought his way up to his knees.

“What I want to know is why we haven’t tied Tomioka or the Kinoe ranked slayer.” Obanai sneered from his tree, ignoring Tanjirou’s desperate tone. “They are both part of the boy’s schemes and should be punished as such. How are we going to teach them a lesson?”

“Oh they’ll be fine,” (Y/n) shivered hearing Shinobu speak above her from where she knelt in the pebbles, “we’ll come up with a penalty later.”

(Y/n) froze, her eyes refused to look up beyond the feet that stood before Tanjirou and herself.

“What I’m interested right now, is hearing this boy’s story.” Shinobu said. “He’s been traveling with a demon all this time, and I wish to hear why. It must be quite the tale to have Tomioka-san break ranks,” the feet take a step closer and Shinobu’s voice dropped in volume, “and you as well, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) tightened her grip over her pant leg, still refusing to look up. She could imagine an array of expressions her old friend could be wearing right now that could cut her deeper than any blade. Pity, anger, disgust, smugness, apathy, that blank smile... no, (Y/n) couldn’t bear to look up.

“So why, Kamado Tanjirou?” Shinobu asked.

“Who cares?” Uzui scoffed from a few yards away, yet he waited for the boy to explain himself.

“She’s my—“ he broke into a fit of coughs and (Y/n) tried to soothe his back, telling him to breathe.

Shinobu stooped down, a gourd of water in hand, offering the water to Tanjirou and finally catching (Y/n)’s eyes as the boy drank the medicated water. When Shinobu’s eyes returned to Tanjirou, (Y/n) remembered how to breathe.

“She’s my little sister!” Tanjirou proclaimed. “She’s never hurt anyone and she never will!”

A few of the Hashira began casting their doubt, but Tanjirou powered through.

“I became a slayer to find a cure for her! In two whole years since she became a demon, she’s never eaten a single person! Let her continue to fight by my side!”

“Well, well, looks like the fun’s already starting.”

(Y/n) turned her head and her breathing hitched. Of course the Wind Pillar of all people would get his hands on Nezuko’s box.

“Is this the boy who has been traveling with a demon? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Shinazugawa asked with a sinister grin.

“Please put down the box Shinazugawa-sama!” The Kakushi (Y/n) recalled to have prior possession of the box pleaded.

“Shinazugawa, please do not act out of line.” Shinobu warned.

“Nah, run that by me again, kid?” Sanemi jeered, holding the box precariously in one hand, “fighting alongside a demon? Impossible, you idiot!”

Tanjirou and (Y/n) called out in horror as the Hashira rammed his blade clean through the box, skewering Nezuko.

Tanjirou scrambled to his feet and lunged at Sanemi, (Y/n) was about to get to her feet as well, but Shinobu held her firmly in place, clutching (Y/n)’s arm tightly while shooting her a warning glance.

(Y/n) could only watch, mouth agape, as Tanjirou head butted Shinazugawa to the ground.

Mitsuri attempted to stifle a snort, covering her face in her hands.

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you don’t deserve to be a Hashira!” Tanjirou yelled.

“We’re doomed.” (Y/n) whispered weakly. She felt as if all her blood was sinking to her knees, sinking as fast as their chance of forgiveness down the drain.

Before Sanemi could retaliate, a couple of Oyakata-sama’s children announced the Master’s arrival. (Y/n) was quick to follow Shinobu in a bow, wincing when she heard what could only be Sanemi pounding Tanjirou into the rocks, forcing him to bow.

“Hello everyone,” Oyakata-sama addressed the garden, his voice carried in the warm breeze, “how good it feels to have you all here.”

Sanemi greeted the Master, formally asking for an explanation. If not for the seriousness of the moment, (Y/n) would have rolled her eyes.

“The Kamado siblings have been sanctioned, you see. I request you all respect that.” Oyakata stated simply.

An array of mostly negative objections arose at this ending with Sanemi calling for punishments for Tanjirou, (Y/n), and Giyuu.

The Master stood silently for a moment before asking one of his children to read a letter aloud. A letter from a previous Hashira, detailing Nezuko’s history. The letter also revealing that should Nezuko fail; Urokodaki, Tanjirou, and Giyuu would atone through seppuku.

A few of the Hashira were still willing to speak against such a plan, swearing that it was not a risk worth taking. Once there was a lull in their heated remarks,  Ubuyashiki saw fit to address (Y/n).

“(Y/n), my child.”

(Y/n)’s head jutted up at the sudden call of attention to her presence. “Ye— yes, Master?”

“Why do you think that of the squad that has been built around you, only you are here?” Oyakata-sama asked with an warm smile.

“I would suppose it would be because I should know better than a ragtag group of Mizunoto, Master.” came (Y/n)’s subdued reply.

“I would hope so.” The Master chuckled, causing heat to bloom across (Y/n)’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you kill the demon?”

“I was going to, but she proved herself to me,” (Y/n) began speaking more evenly as she recalled the moment, “I presented her with my blood, my rare blood, and she turned away. I have traveled with the Kamado siblings for weeks and not once had Nezuko hurt anyone. She protects people, she sleeps to replenish energy. Based on everything I have observed, I believe in Nezuko. I believe in Tanjirou.”

“Would you stake your life on this along with the others listed here today?” Oyakata-sama asked.

(Y/n) breathed in, firmly nodding her head. Her eyes meeting Ubuyashiki’s milky blank one’s despite his lack of vision.

“Yes, I would.”

Shinobu’s hold on (Y/n)’s bicep curled. (Y/n) hadn’t realized she had still been holding her down.

“And here we have three, now four, people willing to take responsibility for this demon. What say you, my children?” The Master asked the Hashira warmly.

“Forgive me Master, but this is not a matter of numbers!” Sanemi yelled, “Demons are sick creatures that need to be put down and I’ll prove it to you now!”

Sanemi sliced his arm, much more blood than (Y/n) had conjured with the small cut to her thumb that she had presented to Nezuko. She and Tanjirou watched as the blood dripped to the box, staining the lacquered wood.

“No good doing this in the light.” Obanai said, “it won’t come out unless it’s dark.”

Sanemi dashed to the shaded engawa, enticing Nezuko to come out with another stab at the box.

“No!” Tanjirou yelled, he made to scramble to the engawa, but was quickly subdued by Obanai.

“Stop!” (Y/n) echoed Tanjirou’s sentiments, pulling against Shinobu’s hold. “Why are you being so needlessly cruel?”

Sanemi ignored them, a wicked grin on his face as he watched Nezuko emerge from the box, growling lowly.

“Well then, demon?” He sneered, holding out his arm.

(Y/n) could tell Nezuko was straining against the pull of the marechi blood. With all of the injuries she had sustained working against her as well, it couldn’t be easy for the demon to hold back.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou wheezed as Obanai was pincering his lung painfully with his elbow.

“Kamado-kun,” Shinobu addressed, “don’t struggle too much while in that hold, your lung might burst.”

Tanjirou only struggled harder, surprising everyone when he broke through his rope restraints and stumbled towards the engawa. Tomioka stopped Obanai from pinning him again.

“Nezuko!” Tanjirou called again.

His voice seemed to finally break through to Nezuko and after a few tense moments, she turned away from Sanemi in disgust.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the relieved smile that overtook her lips.

Once the scene was relayed to the Master, he seemed pleased with the report. He told Tanjirou that although Nezuko had done well to prove herself, they would need to grow even stronger before they could be fully accepted by the others. With that wisdom, he said they were free to go.

(Y/n) startled as Shinobu finally let her go, raising her arm to speak. “If all is well then Oyakata-sama, allow me to provide lodging for them.”

Both (Y/n) and Tanjirou seemed a bit wary of this sudden hospitality, (Y/n) even more so, but if Shinobu noticed or cared she didn’t show it, signaling the Kakushi who had been standing by to gather the injured boy and the demon.

The Kakushi tasked with carrying Nezuko seemed a bit frightened of the little demon kneeling in her box, so naturally (Y/n) rose to carry her instead.

“I’ve got her.” She smiled kindly and reached for the box and secured it shut, but not before giving the demon girl a few well earned head pats that rose Nezuko’s mood greatly.

Another Kakushi picked up Tanjirou then (Y/n) and the two Kakushi quickly made their retreat. That is, until Tanjirou bursted back into the garden asking to headbutt Sanemi.

“Please excuse us!” (Y/n) and the two Kakushi bowed deeply once they got him back under control and sped off twice as fast. (Y/n) and the Kakushi running beside her berated Tanjirou from where he sat on the other Kakushi’s back for such a disrespectful display after being allowed the impossible. 

When they reached the Butterfly Estate, (Y/n)’s heart squeezed in her chest. The grounds looked to be near the same as the night she had left. No one was there to greet them at the door, so they went around the gardens and found Kanao standing amongst the butterflies.

“Hi, Kanao.” (Y/n) greeted the younger girl bashfully. Now that they weren’t battling over keeping Nezuko’s head, (Y/n) finally took in how much she had grown in four years.

Kanao stayed silent, a serene smile on her lips as she merely observed the group that had approached her.

“What are you all here for?” A sharp voice called from behind them, causing the Kakushi to jump and spin to quickly explain they were here to put Tanjirou in the infirmary.

“Well then come with me...” Aoi’s words trailed off a bit once her eyes found (Y/n)’s face.

“Hi Aoi,” (Y/n) gave a nervous half wave, “you’ve gotten a bit taller.”

Aoi marched straight up to (Y/n) and berated her with a barrage of small fists pounding painlessly against her chest. “What would you expect after being gone so long!” She sniffed, “Four years without a single letter or visit? We thought you were dead, idiot!”

“(Y/n)-san? Do you know these people?” Tanjirou asked from Gotou’s back.

“Yeah, I uh, sorta used to live here.” (Y/n) replied, allowing Aoi to continue hitting her to her heart’s content.

“‘Sorta used to live here’, you’re family! You have always had a place here! Now come on, I’m sure Kiyo, Sumi, and Naho will have a bone to pick with you as well. And Shinobu-sama!” Aoi’s fist struck especially hard at the thought, “Shinobu-sama is going to have some choice words for you when she gets back I just know it!”

Aoi led them all inside, occasionally throwing a few more jabs into (Y/n)’s side to make sure she was really there. She didn’t admit that was what they were for of course, she played it off more as a punishment for disappearing for so long.

There was screaming coming from the infirmary and (Y/n) would have been worried if she hadn’t recognized the sound almost immediately.

“Zenitsu!” Tanjirou called excitedly.

While Tanjirou and poor Gotou were dealing with the sobbing, snotty boy, Aoi had dragged (Y/n) over to Kiyo who had been tending to Zenitsu only moments before.

“Look who finally decided to come home.” Aoi told the younger girl who looked up, tilting her head. (Y/n) almost thought Kiyo hadn’t recognized her. Being as young as she was, she wouldn’t have blamed her, but then she burst forward and hugged (Y/n) tightly around her waist.

“What’s going on in here? Hm, Aoi-san, Kiyo?”

Naho and Sumi had made their way into the infirmary with a basket of fresh linens and paused at the entryway for a moment before they realized who their friend was hugging and ran over to join her with tears in their eyes.

“(Y/n)-san, where have you been all this time?” Naho whimpered.

“Why didn’t you say anything before you left?” Sumi cried.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) knelt down to better hug them all, “I know it’s not enough to make up for anything, but I’m sorry for leaving like that. It wasn’t fair,” she looked up to meet Aoi’s stern blue eyes, “to any of you.”

“Well, make it up to us by sticking around from now on.” Aoi said, crossing her arms. “No more running away.”

“But...” (Y/n) was conflicted. Had Shinobu not told the girls why she had left? (Y/n) mustered up the best smile she could and nodded feebly. “All right.”

“(Y/n)-san, your box is... humming?” Sumi pointed at the wooden box.

“Oh, um, you see... in this box is my friend, Nezuko,” (Y/n) treaded carefully, not wishing to startle the girls too badly if she could help it.

“You have someone in a box?” Aoi barked, “well let them out for goodness sake!”

“It’s a little bright in here...” (Y/n) shifted her vision to where Tanjirou and Zenitsu were talking, catching sight of Inosuke as well. Poor boar boy looked like he’d seen better days. “And I’m not sure that Shinobu-” should she still speak of her so informally? “-would be pleased if I let her out without her blessing.”

“Why wouldn’t Shinobu-sama allow you to let someone out of a box?” Aoi rolled her eyes.

“It’s complicated. I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you all about it once she comes back. Until then, Nezuko will be fine in here.”

The girls, though incredulous, let the subject drop for now. Although, they couldn’t help but eye the box with suspicion. Once Tanjirou was settled in the infirmary, the butterfly girls dragged (Y/n) away to talk about the goings on of the last four years which soon devolved into hounding (Y/n) for her own stories to share, even Kanao had come by to sit and listen.

“...And that’s how I helped the fishing village take care of the demon that was lurking in the sea.”

“Tell us another one, (Y/n)-san!” The youngest girls pleaded, kicking their feet in the air behind them. They had migrated to lay flat on their stomachs as the stories progressed and watched (Y/n) recount her adventures with their heads propped up on their arms with rapt attention.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait for another time, it’s quite late you know.”

Everyone turned to the door to find Shinobu staring down at them. The youngest girls pouted a bit, trying to get a bit more time to stick around, but Shinobu held firm and directed them to their rooms.

“You’ll still be here tomorrow, right? (Y/n)-san?” Sumi asked from the doorway.

“I...” (Y/n) pulled at the sleeve of her uniform and subtly pursed her lips while trying to figure out how to proceed, to her surprise, Shinobu spoke up on her behalf.

“I promise you’ll see her in the morning. Now of to bed. (Y/n) and I have much to discuss.”

The thought of having a prolonged conversation with Shinobu sent shivers through (Y/n)’s spine. Once all the girls were well out of sight, Shinobu redirected her attention to (Y/n).

“Let’s drop off your cargo first,” Shinobu said, motioning to the box sitting beside (Y/n), “I’ve arranged a room and Kamado-kun has been wondering where his... sister, has been.”

“Of course.” (Y/n) stood, shouldering the box.

Apparently the room was rather far. (Y/n) felt as if the silence between them was slowly eating at her until she finally decided to speak. For better or for worse.

“You’ve taken all of this extraordinarily well,” (Y/n) commented, testing the waters.

“Mm, I’d like to hold off on any conversation until we drop off the demon. Use this time to gather any thoughts, if you have them that is.”

(Y/n)’s brow furrowed slightly, eyes narrowed. She was sure that was some kind of dig at her intelligence, but she held her tongue.

They dropped off Nezuko, (Y/n) and Tanjirou bid each other good night, and then (Y/n) was led to an all too familiar space, the lab.

Shinobu motioned for (Y/n) to sit at one of the less cluttered tables while she closed the door firmly behind them. (Y/n) would have been lying if she said she wasn’t even just a tad bit concerned by the setting of this ‘talk’ that was about to unfold. Finally, Shinobu took the stool across from her on the other side of the table. She laced her fingers together, using them to prop up her chin as her endlessly amethyst eyes bore into (Y/n)’s. That ghostly smile seemingly perfected after four years of separation, had (Y/n)’s hands clench into fists under the table.

“So,” Shinobu began, her voice deceptively sweet, “when exactly do you think it was when you completely lost your mind?”

“Excuse me?” (Y/n)’s eye twitched.

“Defending a demon, offering up your own life for a demon to live... how insanely idiotic. I thought you were smarter than that. I suppose it had been.. four years, was it? Four years since you ran off. And I thought that was the most careless thing you could ever do. You really have outdone yourself!”

“Stop,” (Y/n) had heard enough of these little jabs and she new well enough Shinobu could go all day as long as she hadn’t changed too drastically in their time apart. However, Shinobu powered through.

“Everyone was devastated when you left you know. We were a family and you just up and left in the middle of the night without a word so soon after—“ After Kanae, “Now you’re putting everything on the line for some demon? You’re a coward. A selfish coward.”

(Y/n) was really angry now. She stood up so fast her stool clattered to the ground behind her. She slammed her hands against the table and stared furiously into Shinobu’s placid expression, though she could detect a hint of a heated spark in those deep purple eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent in all of this! You told me to leave! You want to judge me for trusting Nezuko with my life, fine! But I only did what you commanded of me when I left. You don’t get to say I just fucked off because you think I didn’t care enough!”

Shinobu had the nerve to chuckle, though no trace of humor was there, as she slowly rose to her own feet and assumed a similar stance over the table as (Y/n).

“Did you really think when I said that, when I told you to leave the lab, I meant I wanted you to walk out of my life?” Shinobu asked seriously.

“I didn’t know what you wanted! You weren’t the same person anymore! Don’t try telling me that it wasn’t what you wanted either, you never came looking for me. You never sent your crow. Tell me you weren’t ecstatic when you woke up that morning and didn’t have to deal with me anymore!”

Shinobu slapped her own hand against the table, a vein pulsed painfully under the skin of her forehead. She opened her mouth to retort, poisoned words ready to lash out with a flick of her tongue, but as luck would have it, a Kakushi nervously called from the other side of the door.

“Kochou-sama, the treatments for the, uh, despiderfication of the slayers from Natagumo Mountain are ready to be carried out with your supervision.”

Shinobu closed her eyes, breathing in deeply before opening them again and looking significantly more drained.

“I see. Please inform the others that I’ll be there in a few moments.”

“Right away, Kochou-sama.”

As the footsteps pattered away, (Y/n) fixed her stool upright before heading in the direction of the door, assuming she and Shinobu were done talking, or screaming rather. (Y/n) was surprised to feel Shinobu grasp her hand as she tried to pass by.

“You remember where your room is, right?” Shinobu asked, the undertones of her voice still taut with anger.

(Y/n) too tired to fight on, responded simply with a mute nod.

“I had the Kakushi clean it earlier today. Everything should still be as you left it.”

Shinobu let go of (Y/n)’s hand and it immediately felt cold. The Hashira opened the lab door and stepped out into the hallway, her back to (Y/n) as she made her last parting statement.

“If you know what is good for you, you won’t step a foot outside of estate grounds without speaking to me first.”

“And if I don’t?” (Y/n) asked just to be obstinate.

“Then I guess I’ll have to hunt you down for sport.” Shinobu quickly replied, turning to face (Y/n) just to show her how serious she was.

(Y/n) couldn’t help the weak guffaw that left her lips. To hear such a threat delivered by such a soothing tone was practically oxymoronic.

Shinobu lingered for a moment longer before gliding off to see to her patients while (Y/n) turned down the opposite end of the hallway and traveled down a few more to find herself standing outside of her old room. She opened the door, the space was clean as Shinobu promised. She closed the door softly behind her, blocking off the light from the hall. There would be time to be sentimental in the morning. Right now, between the Mountain, the trial and the emotional battle with the Insect Hashira herself, (Y/n) was exhausted. She scooted her way into the freshly made futon and fell asleep with the nostalgic smell of wisteria petals drifting through her airways.

***

(Y/n) awoke around mid-morning to the sun shining through her window. She stretched and got dressed, her fingers pausing over the last few buttons of her uniform as she glanced over the desk.

The butterfly hair clip she had once worn with pride sat in front of her. It appeared to be left untouched by time. Not even a speck of dust adorned the colorful wings. She reached out to it, but her fingers curled just before she touched it. She pulled her hand back as a knock sounded on the door.

“Yes?”

“It’s Aoi.” A voice called from the other side.

(Y/n) quickly took the last few steps needed to reach the door and slid it open to greet Aoi but before she could, the stern girl stepped inside and pulled the door shut again.

“Were you and Shinobu-sama fighting last night?” She asked hurriedly.

“Where did you hear that?” (Y/n) answered the question with one of her own.

“The Kakushi are partial to gossip. Now what did you do!” Aoi huffed, jabbing (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Why does it have to be me? Shinobu was the one who started it!” (Y/n) backed up, rubbing her shoulder.

“You two better make up soon. It will hurt Naho, Sumi and Kiyo if they find out you’re still mad at each other,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not that easy, Aoi. It’s been four years. It’s not all going to go away overnight.”

“Do I have to do everything around here?” Aoi grumbled to herself, passing a hand over her face. “I’ll help you, but you better try to be civil.”

“Aoi, I don’t need help. I’m sorry that fight got back to you. If Shinobu and I talk again, I promise I’ll try harder to keep my temper in check, okay?”

Aoi sighed and shook her head, “Fine. That wasn’t what I had come to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” (Y/n) tilted her head, “then what is it?”

“Your friends,” Aoi pinched the bridge of her nose, “they’re driving me crazy. I need you to get the blonde and the boar to participate in recovery training.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” (Y/n) answered with slight reluctance. She knew just how difficult those two could be.

Aoi and (Y/n) arrived at the room that was being used for the boys’ recovery training. Tanjirou was already working hard, trying to catch Kanao in a game of tag, while Zenitsu and Inosuke watched from the corner with bitter disinterest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) addressed the younger teens, “what’s the problem? Don’t you guys want to get better? Stronger?”

“It’s pointless.” Inosuke weakly answered.

“(Y/n)-san, this training is too difficult!” Zenitsu cried.

(Y/n) dodged the weepy blonde’s attempts at hugging her and bonked him on the head with the side of her fist.

“I feel no sympathy for you. Aoi and the others are working really hard to get you back in fighting shape, the least you could do is put a little bit of effort in!” (Y/n) crossed her arms, “before you know it, Tanjirou will leave you both in the dust. Do you really want that?”

Zenitsu and Inosuke grunted, still refusing to budge. (Y/n) motioned for Naho to hand her a cup of medicated water and promptly splashed its contents all over the boys.

“What was that for?” Zenitsu screeched.

“Want revenge? Come take me on.” (Y/n) motioned to the table of cups.

Naho, Sumi and Kiyo made small sounds of excitement, trying to encourage the boys, but they just grumbled and walked back to the infirmary.

“You guys are going to regret walking away!” (Y/n) called after them. “Let me know when you are done moping and want to get back to work!”

“Oh my.” Shinobu giggled as she walked in, watching Zenitsu and Inosuke sulk past her.

Shinobu turned to observe the room, pausing at (Y/n). Her eyes flickered down at (Y/n)’s chest and stayed there long enough for the other slayer to notice.

“What?” (Y/n) had grumbled mostly to herself as she followed Shinobu’s gaze downward. Heat shot to her face immediately as she realized she had forgotten to finish buttoning her uniform after Aoi distracted her. It wasn’t showing a lot, just her collar bones and a bit of her chest, but it was still jarring. With a strangled chirp, she quickly buttoned her uniform the rest of the way.

“Oh please, no need to cover up on my account.” Shinobu easily teased, though she felt a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring. She wasn’t entirely sure why her vision gravitated there to begin with.

After a few false starts, (Y/n) finally choked out, “what do you want?”

“I need Kanao and Aoi to help me gather more herbs for spider demon antidotes, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Kochou-sama,” Aoi interjected before (Y/n) could retaliate, “Kanao and I are helping Tanjirou complete his recovery training for the day. I’ve asked (Y/n)-san to fill in for us and she has readily agreed to take our place.”

(Y/n) gave Aoi a look, prompting the younger girl to pinch at (Y/n)’s side discreetly. A message to keep her mouth shut. Kanao simply blinked, twisting on the ball of her foot to dodge another one of Tanjirou’s lunges.

“Very well then, keep up (Y/n). I hope you still remember a thing or two about plants in that thick skull of yours,” Shinobu glided past (Y/n) to step out onto the engawa, “though I wouldn’t be too surprised if all of that knowledge fell out of your head along with your common sense.”

(Y/n) opened her mouth before shutting it firmly closed. Remembering that the younger girls were there and what Aoi had asked of her, she pursed her lips and silently fell into step beside the Hashira, walking with her to the nearby forest where the herbs they needed flourished.

“You recall what Aralia Cordata looks like, correct?” Shinobu asked once they were well within the trees.

“Yeah, kind of hard to miss that shrub if you know what you’re looking for.” (Y/n) groused.

“Fine, fine. Don’t come crying to me if you touch something poisonous.”

“I won’t. Won’t touch anything poisonous I mean. Because I know what I’m doing.”

“Are you telling me that or are you just trying to reassure yourself?”

(Y/n) chose not to reply, instead she split off from Shinobu to one of the shrubs in question and began harvesting a few leafy tendrils from it. Before long, her basket was filled and she turned just in time to see Shinobu turn back to her own bush, pretending to examine one of the tendrils she had cut.

“You know,” (Y/n) sighed as she stood back to her full height, “Aoi only made me come here in her stead because that fight we had last night got back to her. She expects us to make up.”

“Mm, I figured it was something like that,” Shinobu hummed, “I do believe that for once, she is too optimistic in that regard.”

“Well, you never did like admitting when you were wrong,” (Y/n) shrugged, “or saying you’re sorry. It’s comforting to know you haven’t completely destroyed your old personality.”

“And what exactly have I been wrong about, (Y/n)?” Shinobu’s forehead pulsed, “what exactly have I done that requires an apology?”

“You lie to everyone Shinobu. You hide behind plastic smiles pretending to be someone you’re not to fill a void. Saying your fine and shrugging everyone off while holding them at arm's length. When I tried to talk to you, you pushed me away and told me to leave. You were dismissive, cold.”

(Y/n) wrapped her arms around herself as if a chilling wind overcame her. Continuing on, she spoke lowly before Shinobu could speak her denial.

“Not to say that I don’t have my own fault in all of this. Even if I thought you really wanted me gone that night, I should have fought harder for you. I knew you were hurting, but I gave up and left anyway. That is something I’ve thought about a lot in our time apart and I regret it every day because you were worth fighting for.”

(Y/n) blew out a harsh breath of air, running a hand over her scalp she made her closing statement.

“If there was one thing you were right about last night, it’s that I’m a coward and I’m sorry that I didn’t try harder.”

(Y/n) chanced a look at Shinobu’s face. The Hashira’s eyes rounded and her mouth was ever so slightly agape. The silence hung in the air until a sweet wisteria breeze swept through the trees and (Y/n) cleared her throat and looked away.

“So if we could at least pretend to get along for the sake of the girls, I think Aoi would appreciate it.” (Y/n) added before reaching down to collect her basket. A sudden noise, like air being rapidly released through one’s nose, came from behind (Y/n) and she paused in her movements to glance back at Shinobu who was looking down at the leaf she was worrying between her fingers.

“I... apologize, for pushing you away in such a way that made you think you had to exile yourself. It was also cruel of me to say you didn’t care about us when I knew that you thought of this place as your home. I was trying to hurt you back and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.” Shinobu solemnly said.

Now it was (Y/n)’s turn to stare. Soon, Shinobu leveled a cocky smile and stood with her basket of leaves and a few other miscellaneous plants she gathered.

“Looks like you were wrong about my ability to apologize, hm?” She said.

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment.” (Y/n) smiled, reaching for her own basket.

The atmosphere surrounding the girls leaving the forest felt a lot more relaxed than it had upon entering.

***

Days turned into weeks and everything seemed so much better after. It was still awkward at times, but (Y/n) and Shinobu were finding their rhythm again. There was still a little hostility at times, but rather than avoid each other, they talked it out. It was almost frightening how in sync they were when they were working well together.

(Y/n) split her time between helping Shinobu with the slayers turned spiders and helping the younger girls train Tanjirou. She was elated by the boy’s progress as he finally managed to catch Kanao. She had noticed Zenitsu and Inosuke lurking nearby and gestured to the room. Now that they knew recovery training was possible and Tanjirou was leaving them in the dust, the rambunctious boys finally felt the need to catch up with their comrade’s progress.

Before long, the boys were well enough to continue the training on their own and (Y/n) found herself spending more and more time with Shinobu. They would spend hours talking or saying nothing at all, just enjoying each other’s company while they worked away on medicines and poisons.

It didn’t take long for (Y/n) to notice the difference. How Shinobu took up more than her fair share of space in (Y/n)’s thoughts. Even just catching sight of her across the garden was starting to make (Y/n)’s heart leap. On the occasion Shinobu would spot her she’d smile and wave, making (Y/n)’s heart stop all together before kicking into overdrive. The lingering touches and whispered words Shinobu would share with her as they worked in the lab certainly didn’t help either. Just when (Y/n) had thought they finally found their dynamic... Why was it changing again already?

(Y/n) was telling Naho, Sumi and Kiyo the story of how she met Tanjirou and Nezuko while she patted the demon’s head. Ever since Nezuko had woken up, the younger girls, though skittish at first, had grown to be fascinated and even enamored with her. As (Y/n) retold the tale, Nezuko humming happily at her side, Shinobu happened upon the group.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this session short. Tanjirou and the others are ready to get back out on the road now. Something about joining Rengoku-san on his next mission.”

“How did I not here about this plan sooner?” (Y/n) frowned.

“That’s a question best suited for Tanjirou to answer I suppose.” Shinobu replied rather emotionlessly, concerning (Y/n).

So while everyone else was getting ready to leave, (Y/n) pulled Tanjirou aside and asked him what was going on.

“I didn’t tell you we were leaving because I hope you’ll stay and continue to rebuild the relationships you have here, (Y/n)-san. I appreciate everything you’ve done for Nezuko and I, and now I hope to return the favor.” Tanjirou smiled brightly.

“And how do you figure you’re doing that?” (Y/n) crossed her arms.

“Because the longer you get to stay here, the more time you get to spend with Shinobu-san! I can smell that you two want to be together more now than ever.”

“You and your nose I swear,” heat radiated off of (Y/n)’s cheeks, “I think you have intuition and that sense mixed up.”

Tanjirou merely laughed in response.

“So, you guys think you’ll really be okay without me? You’ll stay out of trouble?”

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)-san! We’ll see each other again soon!” Tanjirou beamed.

(Y/n) smiled in return and they rejoined the send off.

“Where did Shinobu-san go?” Tanjirou wondered.

(Y/n) looked around and sure enough, the Pillar was nowhere to be seen.

“She must have had something urgent to attend to,” she answered, making a note to search for her later.

(Y/n) stood out in the garden until the loud group disappeared into the trees and their shouts could no longer be heard over the rustling of the leaves. She took a moment to stare out into the clear blue sky before returning inside.

(Y/n) was going to go look for Shinobu, but she wanted to go to her room to change her uniform first since Zenitsu had snotted all over it in his tearful goodbye.

She opened the door and was surprised to find Shinobu already inside. Shinobu’s back was turned to her as she quickly ran a sleeve over her face. She cleared her throat before facing back with a weak smile.

“(Y/n), forget something?”

“Huh?” (Y/n) blinked, still trying to process why Shinobu might have just been tearing up in her room of all places.

“The others must be ready to leave now. You better pick up what you needed so they don't have to wait too long.”

“They already left, Shinobu.” (Y/n) explained. “I hadn’t planned on going with them.”

“Oh.” Shinobu turned to look outside the window of (Y/n)’s room, hoping the blood that buzzed in her cheeks hadn’t burned its way to her ears as well.

“Shinobu, is something wrong?” (Y/n) tested.

“I just feel a bit silly now I suppose.” Shinobu admitted, bringing a slight smile to (Y/n)’s face with her honesty. “I thought you were gone again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t leave without a proper goodbye, not again.” (Y/n) came up beside Shinobu, intending to give her hand a comforting squeeze when she felt something other than skin instead. Looking down she saw her old butterfly clip in Shinobu’s hand, a quick look at the empty spot at her desk confirmed it.

Shinobu noticed that (Y/n) had noticed and rose the hairclip up between them with a subdued exhale.

“You know, every morning I wonder if it will be the morning you feel comfortable enough to wear this again.” Shinobu said, twirling the insect in her fingers. “When I thought you were gone and I saw this still sitting on your desk, it brought me back to places I’d rather not think about.”

“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) rested her hand over the back of Shinobu’s haori, “I just haven’t felt... I don’t know, worthy of it? I didn’t intend to make you feel bad.”

A small puff of air left Shinobu’s nose at the words. “It isn’t a matter of worth, it’s about whether or not you feel like you belong here again. Whether or not you’re comfortable here.”

“Agree to disagree.” (Y/n) joked. “But if it makes you feel better, I’m glad I get to spend more time here. I’ve been happier in these last few weeks than in the last few years.”

“I’m glad.” Shinobu watched a couple of butterflies flutter against the window before turning back to the garden. “And if you insist on it being a matter of worth, you are more than worthy. It’s not even a question to me.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) simpered. Her breathing hitched slightly when Shinobu reached up to run her fingers through a loose lock of (Y/n)’s hair.

“Would you let me do your hair?” Shinobu asked softly.

“I’d like that.” (Y/n) whispered.

Shinobu guided (Y/n) back to the desk and sat her down on the chair. She freed (Y/n)’s hair from its plain hair band and quietly ran a brush through her locks with such softness that (Y/n) felt like she might fall asleep. Shinobu gathered the hair in her hands and styled it as she wished, clipping it together with the butterfly hair clip. Shinobu checked over her work, her hands resting on (Y/n)’s shoulders.

“You look perfect.” (Y/n) shivered. She hadn’t expected Shinobu’s lips to be so close to her ear. Neither had she expected the lips to ghost over her cheek in a light kiss.

“I just remembered I have a meeting I need to attend. You’ll help the girls with the infirmary won’t you?”

(Y/n) had almost forgotten how to speak but managed to pull it together. “Of course! I’ll, um, see you when you get back?”

“Perhaps,” Shinobu removed her hands from (Y/n)’s shoulders, “I won’t be back until late though.”

“Okay.”

A shy hug (in slightly awkward positioning due to the gross state of the Kinoe’s uniform, courtesy of Zenitsu) and Shinobu parted ways with (Y/n). (Y/n) met up with the girls in the infirmary and was almost immediately met with a chorus of cheers from Naho, Kiyo and Sumi when they noticed her hair. Aoi and Kanao smiled at the sight as well. A full day of caring for the infirmary made (Y/n) excited to finally get into bed for the night.

She awoke with a scream caught in her throat. Old demons had visited her in her sleep. As she worked to calm her heart, she noticed the light of the full moon streaming through her window. With a few more deep breaths she sat up from her futon and wrapped her haori around her shoulders.

Quietly exiting her room, she padded through the halls until she found her way to the kitchen, a smile pulled at her lips when she found Shinobu already there boiling water.

“Rough night?” Shinobu asked. She was also in her bed wear, her hair hanging loose from its usual style.

“Yes,” (Y/n) moved to stand beside her, “it’s been awhile since the last one I had.”

“How did you deal with that when you were on the road?”

“I would buy little sacks of tea leaves as I went. On bad nights or whenever sleep eluded me I’d boil up some water and try a new blend. Yours was always the best though.”

“I was already going to make you a cup, no need for flattery.”

“No flattery here. Just the truth.” (Y/n) swore, making Shinobu’s smile just a tad fuller.

Shinobu finished preparing the cups and as (Y/n) took hers about ready to leave, the Hashira asked her to wait.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Want to watch the stars for a moment?” Shinobu asked.

“I’d love to.” (Y/n) nodded.

The pair walked outside along the engawa until they had a pleasant view of the full brightness of the moon. They sat along the engawa’s edge, letting their legs dangle as they sipped their tea in the drowning noise of cicada and cricket songs.

(Y/n) chanced a glance at Shinobu in her periphery and marveled at how the moonlight highlighted her skin to the point where she almost appeared to be glowing. The way it reflected off of her eyes was absolutely enchanting. (Y/n) forced her attention back on the sky. Though beautiful it seemed to pale in comparison to the girl next to her.

As her eyes traced over the larger craters of the moon, she thought back on an old saying she had read at one of the inns she had frequented. An old, battered collection of pages that she read through when sleep didn’t come. She had read that particular work quite a few times.

She wondered if perhaps Shinobu had read it too. Though more likely the girl had her face buried in medical texts than anything else. (Y/n) then wondered, if perhaps she could get away with saying it. A confession without consequence, but on the off change that Shinobu was knowledgeable on the old text it could damage the progress they had made in healing their relationship. Perhaps it would be better to just enjoy the moment. (Y/n) took another sip of tea.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) nearly choked on her tea, spluttering and coughing as she tried in vein to stop herself. Finally she managed to calm down only to notice how intently Shinobu was staring at her.

Had she meant that literally? Shinobu was looking at (Y/n) so expectantly, but it could easily just be because she had nearly blacked out from inhaling her tea!

“...It is.” (Y/n) finally answered hiding her face in her cup, looking at neither Shinobu nor the moon.

Another long silence filled by the chirps of insects enjoying the humid night air. (Y/n) had finished her tea and set her cup to her right, her free hand that had been resting between Shinobu and herself was soon covered by a cool and calloused touch.

(Y/n) shyly turned her head to meet the Pillar’s gaze and jumped a bit when her nose unexpectedly brushed against Shinobu’s.

“The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” Shinobu repeated barely above a whisper. She was not pulling away.

(Y/n) felt her throat dry and she wished she had just one more swallow of tea left. With a slight quiver in her lips, she responded. Doing her best to stay focused on the purple irises before her.

“Yes,” she answered with a slight nod, careful not to bump head with Shinobu, “it is.”

“(Y/n)?” Shinobu called to her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn’t already resting on top of (Y/n)’s.

“Y.. yes?”

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Shinobu murmured, filling (Y/n)’s senses with a dizzying wisteria scent. The slayer didn’t even try to talk herself out of answering such a query as the thumb of Shinobu’s hand swiped the corner of her lips.

“Yes.” She replied, nearly breathless already and her pupils blown wide.

“(Y/n), please kiss me.”

It was all too easy to lean in when they were already sitting so closely. The hand Shinobu had been using to cup her cheek weaved through the hair at the back of (Y/n)’s head, pulling her closer yet as their lips met a bit clumsily in buzzing, mind numbing bliss. (Y/n)’s free hand, the one not currently being clutched in a near death grip over the wooden floor, found home at the back of Shinobu’s neck, lightly massaging the skin there.

They broke apart a few times but the breaths they took were quick and few. Eventually they rested against each other while their abused lungs burned with a hunger for oxygen.

“I have wanted to do that for longer than I’d like to admit.” Shinobu quietly confessed, twisting a lock of (Y/n)’s hair though her fingers.

“Even when we were fighting?” (Y/n) joked, rubbing the back of Shinobu’s neck with her thumb.

“Strangely enough, yes. There were times when I thought about doing it just to shut you up. Though I didn’t dare allow myself to entertain the thought for long.”

(Y/n) chuckled and leaned in to steal another kiss, much less heated then the last few and much quicker as a chorus of surprised gasps made them pull apart and turn around.

“They kissed! They’re kissing!” Sumi cheered while Aoi tried to quiet her and push her back into the mansion.

Sumi and Kiyo emerged from the doorway that Shinobu had left open when she and (Y/n) first came out into the moonlight and were immediately hounding them for confirmation.

“We missed it! Do it again!” Kiyo pleaded.

“It’s like a fairy tale!” Naho cheered.

“You three!” Aoi grumbled with embarrassment. “Kanao, help me out here!”

Kanao looked between Aoi, the rowdy girls, then her sister and senpai, before settling on a nice golf clap of congratulations. This made Aoi lightly smack herself in the face and completely give up on trying to rein in the younger children.

“My, what are you all doing up I wonder?” Shinobu smiled.

“We wanted to watch the moon too Shinobu-sama! Aoi-san even made tea!” Naho clapped.

“But it’s clear you’re, busy, with something and we should go back inside.” Aoi rushed.

“Nonsense, it’s a lovely night. These things are best experienced with those you care about, don’t you all agree?”

“Yes!” Three excited voices readily agreed before wiggling in between the older girls with light blankets and their tea.

Aoi grumbled a half hearted reminder to be careful with the tea before sitting down beside (Y/n) with her own cup. Kanao took a seat beside Shinobu, lightly kicking her feet over the engawa as she started up silently at the moon.

They stayed up for hours, naming constellations, spotting shooting stars, and listening for the occasional loud croak of a far off frog in the thick of the cicadas and crickets.

Dawn wasn’t too far off when Naho, Sumi and Kiyo fell asleep. (Y/n), Shinobu and Kanao each picked one up and returned them to their rooms. Aoi gathered the discarded cups and helped with the doors before bidding the older girls goodnight, Kanao trailing behind her.

“What a lively night. I’m afraid chores will suffer tomorrow.” Shinobu mused as she walked (Y/n) back to her room.

“We’ll figure it out.” (Y/n) said, shyly brushing her hand against Shinobu’s and smiling when Shinobu laced their fingers together.

Once at (Y/n)’s room Shinobu raised (Y/n)’s hand to her lips with a smirk, planting a kiss on battle worn knuckles.

“This is where I leave you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Why does that feel too long?” (Y/n) laughed quietly.

“I’m not sure, you’d think after four years of bitter silence a couple of hours would be a walk in the park.” Shinobu chuckled in return.

“I guess we just have a lot of time to make up for, huh?”

“Mm, that is a plausible line of reasoning,” Shinobu hummed, a spark growing in her eyes, “might I trouble you for one more kiss before I retire to my room?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

(Y/n) hardly got the words out before Shinobu was on her. Four kisses later and they pulled away with matching grins.

“I’ll see you in my dreams.” Shinobu added one last peck before pulling away.

“As will I.”

***

Well into the next morning (Y/n) awoke energized and ready to fight the world. She changed into a fresh uniform and pinned her hair with care, straightening the butterfly pin before rushing out of her room to begin her day with the young woman who had gifted it to her.

[libertybri]

RAINY HOLIDAYS, Danse x Sole

+

author’s note; I don’t particularly like Christmas content, but I felt the need to write this before I dipped for the holidays <3

pairing; Danse x gender neutral!Sole

warnings: dialogue galore, Danse using petnames, slightly ooc Danse (oh well)

word count; 825

tldr; Sole and Danse want to put up Christmas lights outside their home but it’s been raining for like a week straight, so they can’t get to it

…

The sound of Diamond City Radio drowns out the loud pitter-patter of the rain outside. Run Rudolph Run has been one of Travis' favorite songs to play throughout the holiday season, and it was particularly one of Danse and Sole's favorites as well. The upbeat tune made for great pacing in their decorating of the home, getting all things indoors done fairly quickly. Danse puts the tree topper on with ease and gleams over to Sole who studies his work teasingly, and nods with silent approval. The inside of the couple's home looked like Christmas galore, with every little thing having tinsel or ornaments stringed upon it. Considering the consistent gloomy weather they received all week, it was no wonder that the inside was decorated to a tee.

This fact however left the outside of their home rather neglected. Sole commented almost everyday for the passed week that the two of them should just go out in the rainy weather and decorate anyway because they couldn't quite stand the bareness of their home so close to the holiday. Danse talked them out of it to avoid getting sick before the big day, promising that it would get done eventually. Though as day seven of rain was washed upon them, he was beginning to grow a little concerned. He could sense his lover getting angsty as they peered out of the living room window and looking upon other houses; Some were bare like theirs, others were half-done due to the surprise weather, and very few were completed in their decoration, causing Sole to let out a defeated sigh and fall back against the couch.

“We should have started earlier.” Sole comments, avoiding Danse’s stern look of disapproval. “If we decorated at the beginning of December, or even in November, then we wouldn’t have to worry if we’ll even be able to get it done before Christmas.”

“You can’t blame us, hun. We’re busy people.” He reminds them, “Just last month you defeated the Commonwealth’s biggest enemy. Since then, you’ve been negotiating peace between the factions, and I’ve been at your side through it all.”

“Yeah, but we could have spared like ten minutes to put up lights outside.” Sole grumbles.

“Considering just the inside took us days to reach your standard, I am positive it would take two hours minimum to fix up the outside.” Danse retorts, “That doesn’t include finding a ladder and sending me on the roof to do most of the job.” He lets out a small laugh, already picturing Sole talking up the job just to send him to the roof to get it done and watching from below.

His lover lets out a laugh of their own, finally emitting a smile much to his enjoyment. “I would help you if necessary, but someone has to stay on the ground to direct the other.” Sole argues playfully. The two bask in delight for a moment before Sole’s face goes still and they are reminded of why the outside decoration matters so much. They turn to Danse with a slight frown and he immediately pulls them into his embrace.

“It’s something else, isn’t it?” He questions, and they nod.

“It’s just– This would’ve been Shaun’s first Christmas, and ours with him. Well, two-hundred and ten years ago, I suppose. In the right timeline…” Danse’s face somewhat scrunches up at their explanation, causing them to wave it off. “That’s not what I meant. This… is the right timeline now, it’s just, so different.”

Danse nods in agreement and pulls them closer, resting his head on their shoulder as they cuddle into him. Things were different for them both this holiday. Losing the only families they have ever known, but gaining another in the process. The two meet each other’s eyes as if understanding that fact at the same moment. Sole leans up and pecks his lips shortly and he smiles down at them.

“It is our first Christmas together, that means something.” Sole states, their whole demeanor of the subject changing as they now had a positive outlook.

As if a sign from some higher power, or Mother Nature herself, was allowing them to know that things would be just fine, the rain suddenly stops it’s pour. Danse jerks his head towards the window and his mouth goes agape. Sole rapidly taps his chest as they sit up, ready to bust down the front door and hang up the lights in an instant. Before they could rush from his hold, Danse takes both of his hands to their waist and pulls them back.

“Honey,” he chuckles, “The rain just stopped. I’ll slip off the roof if you make me put up lights now. Let’s give it time to dry and in the meantime we can bundle up.”

“Fine, but if it starts raining again in that time then you better find a raincoat.” Danse chuckles at their soft threat.

“Hm, anything for you, my love.”

+

author’s note pt. 2; hey… it’s me again. just wanted to comment on this new formatting I think I want to start doing for my oneshots/smut-shots and all that jazz. methinks it’s nice

[sariahsue]

A Cat of Their Own - Ch 2

Ch 1

The room was dark and quiet and empty when they went up, just as Tom had told her it was. Marinette had turned her lights off and had left the skylight propped open. Cool autumn air floated down through it. The other window was still latched shut.

"Our daughter is a superhero," Tom said. "I'm not sure if I want to swell with pride or cover her in bubble wrap."

There seemed to be nothing they could do at the moment. "What happens if it starts to rain?" Sabine asked. Whenever something went horribly wrong, and she started feeling out of control, she had a habit of fixing her attention on the least pressing problem she could. It was all she could do not to panic. Her baby was letting herself get attacked by monsters every other day. "Her bed will get soaked."

"We'll just have to make sure we close it for her," Tom said, taking her hand loosely. How was he so calm about this? "She should be back any moment. That fight wasn't far away."

Sabine led him over to Marinette's desk, which was still scattered with the fabric she'd been cutting that morning, and then positioned them underneath the loft bed. Tom raised an eyebrow at her, but Sabine shook her head and put a finger to her lips.

Less than thirty seconds later, there was a loud thud on the roof, and they both looked up reflexively. Footsteps followed, and then the creak of the bedsprings and the scrape of her skylight shutting and latching.

"Spots off!" said Marinette's voice. A flash of pink light illuminated the room briefly, making the dress form and chaise cast wide shadows. Sabine's grip on Tom's hand tightened.

"Wow!" said a new voice, high pitched and cheery. "That akuma sure was something else."

Who was that?

"Just be glad you couldn't smell it," Marinette said. "It was bad enough for me. I don't know how Cat could stand it with that nose of his. Phew!"

Marinette's feet appeared at the ladder, toes pointed toward them. Her knees came into view, then the hem of her shirt, and finally her face. Her hands froze on the ladder rungs, staring at her parents. Marinette went from a flushed smile to a mask of horrified realization, and Sabine saw her own feelings reflected back at her. There was no denying it anymore.

"Marinette?" came the unfamiliar voice. "What's wrong?"

Marinette snapped her head up toward the sound. "No, don't!"

A red blob whizzed through the air and stopped next to Marinette. "What?" it asked. It didn't have any wings, but it floated through the air just the same. Its large head facing Marinette.

"Uh, sweetie," Tom said. "What is that?"

The thing turned, abnormally large eyes rounding slightly and its antennae twitching in surprise at the sight of them.

It's like a ladybug, Sabine thought numbly, staring at the one black dot on its head. A talking ladybug.

"Oh. I was wondering if this was going to happen soon," it said.

"You could have warned me," Marinette mumbled.

"We need to talk," Sabine said mechanically, while Marinette dropped her head down onto the closest rung. "You aren't in trouble."

"Listen, I'm sorry," Marinette said. "I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't supposed to, and I didn't want you to worry, and-"

"First," Sabine said, putting her hands on her hips, "Who said you weren't supposed to? You shouldn't be keeping secrets like this from your parents."

"Uh." Marinette's eyes flicked quickly to the little creature, but she kept her head from turning toward it too.

Sabine's eyes narrowed.

"I'm Tikki," the thing said. "And I'm afraid that that's part of the burden of being Ladybug. No one is supposed to know."

"Pleased to meet you," Tom said, holding out a hand like he wanted to shake. Tikki floated over and sat on his thumb, all smiles.

"She's a minor," Sabine said. "Legally, she doesn't have the ability to make decisions and take on burdens like this without parental consent."

"I think everyone would agree that this is a special case," Tikki said.

"And I've handled the responsibility well so far, Mama," Marinette said, "Don't you think?" She finally let go of the ladder and came to stand by them. She looked so small, so young.

"You've done such a good job," Tom said. "We're very proud of you. Aren't we?"

"Of course," Sabine said, her voice still tight. "Very."

Marinette stood up a little straighter. "Thanks. Sorry I couldn't tell you."

"This is all so amazing," Tom said. "So Tikki helps you become Ladybug? Are those earrings your miraculous? Why does Hawk Moth want them?"

Marinette's hand hovered over her ear protectively. "Yeah, these are them. And we're not really sure what his whole plan is…"

"But you do know some?" he asked.

"Yeah…" Marinette glanced over at Tikki, who said nothing.

"So where did you and Cat Noir get them? How did you two-" Sabine waved to Tikki, "-meet?"

"Uh." Again, Marinette glanced at Tikki, like she was asking permission to tell her own parents the truth.

"I'm sorry," Tikki said, hovering between Marinette and Sabine. "I don't think she should say. Secrets about the miraculous need-"

"Excuse me," Sabine snapped. "I was talking to my daughter."

The mood in the room turned icy. The creature's eyes tightened around the edges, like it was sizing up the situation. And then it floated off to sit on Marinette's desk without another word.

Marinette watched the thing go, frowning, like she'd been abandoned. Sabine felt an intense dislike for the creature. Tricking a child into risking her life every single day and lying to her parents about everything? Who would do that?

Tom put a hand on Sabine's shoulder. "I'm sure there are security risks involved that we don't know about," he said.

Marinette smiled gratefully at him while Sabine shrugged his hand off.

"That doesn't take away the fact that this is extremely dangerous," Sabine said. "Do you have to fight Hawk Moth?"

"Mama!" Marinette said, taking a step back. "Of course, we do! We can't just let him terrorize Paris like this."

"That's not what she meant, sweetheart," Tom said, reached out for her and pulled her back to stand closer to them. "Couldn't you give the miraculous to someone else?" he asked, trying to make it sound more like a suggestion instead of the pleading that it was.

"No, I can't." It was Marinette's turn to glare at him, and he sighed.

"We could find someone else," Tikki said. (Marinette's glare was quick to find a new target.) "But it wouldn't put her out of danger completely. She has been chosen for this. If Hawk Moth sought her out in retaliation, she wouldn't have any way to defend herself."

"I want to do this," Marinette said. "Cat Noir needs me. We're very experienced. We've never lost yet."

"It only takes one defeat," Sabine said.

"I'm not going to lose." Marinette wrapped an arm around each of them, pulling them in closer. "I know you're worried about me, but please don't. I'm a superhero. I protect civilians, and that includes you. It's my job to worry about you now." They leaned both into her as she spoke. "And I have Tikki and Cat Noir, and his kwami too. You've always had so much faith in us. Please don't suddenly doubt me just because she's, well, me. You don't need to worry."

"The suit will protect her from almost everything," Tikki added.

"This isn't a child's job." Sabine hugged her daughter tightly. "We're your parents. We're supposed to be worrying about you. You aren't supposed to be worrying about anything except for school and making friends and having fun. This shouldn't be your job. You're not allowed to worry like this."

"I chose this job, Mama. Please understand. I want this."

They stayed like that for a while, Sabine holding her daughter close, Tom's arms around both of them. There didn't seem anything she could say to change Marinette's mind, and she wasn't sure what Marinette would do if Sabine ordered her to give the earrings up.

She didn't know her own daughter well enough to know what she would do.

Tom finally sighed. "As long as you don't get hurt."

"And you always finish your homework," Sabine added.

Marinette smiled up at them. "Usually my late homework doesn't have anything to do with superheroing. I just don't want to do it. I'll try harder, though."

Sabine took a deep breath in, glad that something was going her way in this conversation. Finally.

Marinette led them out from under her loft bed, and the kwami thing decided it was safe to rejoin the group. It kept trying to catch Sabine's eye with placating smiles, but Sabine didn't engage with it.

"We watched your fight today. Looked pretty intense," Tom said, as Marinette sat down at her desk and started pulling scraps of fabric toward herself. She didn't do anything with them except pick at the frayed edges. With each strand she pulled out, her shoulders became more relaxed, and the strain on her face that had appeared when she realized she was caught started to slip away.

"It wasn't that bad," Marinette said. "Sticky and gross, mostly."

"I want to talk to Cat Noir," Sabine said abruptly.

"What? No." Marinette dropped the blue-patterned fabric square she'd been playing with.

"Why not? You spend a lot of time with him. We'd like to meet him. He's obviously important to you."

"Because then I'd have to tell him who I am. No one is supposed to know who I am. No one."

"And I'm to assume you don't know who he is either?"

Marinette shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you spending time with a boy you don't know that well. It's like meeting someone from the internet."

"Mama, it's not like that at all." Marinette stood. "He was chosen too. And I do know him."

"I have a right to know who my daughter spends time with."

"No, you don't. Not when it puts my partner's identity at risk."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sabine watched Tom's gaze volley back and forth, willing her husband to take her side.

"How about this," Tom said. "We can write him a letter, and you can deliver it the next time you see him."

"Deal," Marinette said quickly.

They both looked at Sabine. Even Tikki looked up from the cookie she was nibbling on.

"You don't have a problem with that?" Sabine said, daring the thing to disagree.

It shook its head. "A letter sounds like a nice idea."

"Fine then," Sabine said, "but you can't read it, Marinette."

"Why not?"

Sabine said nothing. There really wasn't a reason for it.

"Fine," Marinette said, folding her arms like she always did when she knew she'd lost an argument. "I'll take it to him. We have patrol tomorrow night."

"And you won't peek?" Sabine asked.

"No, I won't peek." Marinette pushed past her parents and went back up to her balcony, a sign that she wanted to be alone. Just before the skylight snapped shut behind her, Sabine heard her mutter something about "parents" and "losing all faith in her."

"We wouldn't have," Sabine said, "if you'd been honest with us." She looked directly at Tikki, so it would know who should be feeling the guilt for the situation.

Tikki didn't look upset at all. Could it even feel emotions like that? It sat there and held her gaze, looking at her with old eyes, until Sabine finally looked away.

Tom stayed silent, rubbing his fingers across the fabric Marinette had abandoned, face solemn.

Sabine had never felt so helpless in her life. Her only child, her baby, shouldn't feel like she had to protect her parents. No child should have to do that. And Marinette couldn't even see how wrong this all was.

Read Chapter Three

***

Author’s note: I said two updates this week, forgetting that I had a Spanish final. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

@tbehartoo​ @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl @kayla0binow @fleurie3am15inspo 

[phoenixblack89]

Fera Ingris

Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons

It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.

My wonderful tag list:

@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel

"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."

Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent. 

"Are ye listening lass?" 

"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now!  As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!" 

"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear. 

"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."

"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much" 

"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns." 

"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?" 

"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?" 

"Sorry lass I got to -" 

The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys. 

                                                      **********

The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends. 

Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things? 

She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since... 

No, she thought don't think about it. 

She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty. 

Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles. 

A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her. 

"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her... 

Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was? 

He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there. 

"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."

"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet. 

"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something. 

"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face. 

"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her." 

"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces. 

Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.

Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.

She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.

"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle. 

"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"

"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip. 

"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"

"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together. 

God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.

"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself." 

"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.

                                                    **********

Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.

"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."

The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.

"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."

"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."

"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.

                                                    **********

A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal. 

A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance. 

                                                    **********

They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.

"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy. 

He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now. 

Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago. 

He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place. 

He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.

                                                    **********

Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her. 

"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy. 

That damn hand. 

He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace. 

"Ya alright?" 

"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking. 

                                                    **********

The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left. 

She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled. 

Almost home.

Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.

                                                          **********

Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp. 

Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer. 

"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood. 

"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more. 

"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth. 

"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!" 

Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them. 

"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes. 

"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut. 

"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane. 

"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well. 

"He dead? "

"We're not sure..."

OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder. 

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark. 

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion. 

"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance. 

"Rick Grimes." 

"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?" 

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there." 

"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him. 

"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick. 

"Yeah." 

Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily. 

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair. 

"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground. 

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself. 

"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull. 

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed. 

"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side. 

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" 

Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question. 

"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies. 

Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly. 

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"

Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man. 

"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety. 

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog. 

"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly. 

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply. 

"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV. 

                                                   *********

Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.  

"Hey." 

"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces.  "Yea... Ya not comin' though."  

"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away. 

"Daryl!" 

"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.  

"Dixon..."  

"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed." 

"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"  

"Nah ya don't!" 

"Yes I fucking do!"  

"No. Ya stayin' here!" 

 "I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.  

"No!" 

"Yes!" 

"NO! And that's final!"  

The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.    

Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her.  "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead." 

"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.  

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange.  He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.  

"Hey!"  

Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair.  So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.  

"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.   

NEXT

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 5.5 (knj)

Chapter 5.5: “No. We had our first makeup.”

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N talk about their relationship.

word count- 2.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers, angst (😱)

warnings- none! just extreme fluff

a.n- This didn’t fit well in the next chapter but I wanted to end the angst in the last chapter on a better note. Let me know what you think.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

Namjoon awoke earlier than the sun the next day, his head heavy and his eyes sore, evidence of last night’s vulnerability etched into his features. Unlike most times you weren’t tangled up in his arms, instead he saw you on the other side of the bed, curled up in a fetal position, one hand between your knees while the other rested under your cheek, making your mouth pout. He frowned at how your eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in your sleep, making you look distressed.

Sighing, he rose up, walking to the other side of the bed to his luggage and digging around for painkillers for his headache. Before he walked to the fridge to grab water, he pulled the comforter higher over you, lightly caressing your cheek, his eyes trailing the necklace around your neck, the pendant resting on the sheets next to your hand.

He sat on the couch, pulling your laptop on the coffee table towards him and turning it on to be greeted by the proposal you were supposed to be working on yesterday. The document seemed to be littered with little comments, and he felt anger flare within his chest as he read them. He knew he was snooping, and he should just minimize the window and go on Netflix as he was initially planning, but he couldn’t help it.

Y/N, are you an idiot?! This is not possible! That is not how this company works

Please fix this. We know you are better than this rubbish.

Let’s discuss this when you get back from showing off in Detroit… this is nonsense.

The comments were too casual and berating to be from your staff and he could only assume they were from your board members. You never talked much about your relationship with the board other than the occasional complaint about wanting to buy them out to have full control, but Namjoon never expected this amount of disrespect from them. As he looked at your sleeping form across the room, he felt a bubble of guilt rise within him. Now that the haze of jealousy and self-hate he was in last night had disappeared, he couldn’t help but realize how mean he had been in his comments to you. If you were dealing with all of this from your board, you didn’t need to be dealing with it from him too. He wondered why you never shared this with him, as he rubbed his face and leaned his head back over the couch. He had seen you become frighteningly more stressed and tired over the last month but he always stopped himself from asking questions, thinking he was projecting his own troubles on to you. In hindsight, he should have known better. Over the past month, Harry had texted him twice to ask if you were doing alright, and even at drinks on Friday, Siwon had pulled him aside to remind him to make sure you relax this weekend. He should’ve known better.

He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about your relationship. It had started with a promise of honesty, of never hiding yourselves from each other, but somehow the distance and the stress had made you both recede into yourselves. Unlike Namjoon, you were the kind of person who never seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and he wondered if you felt similarly to how he had been feeling these past months with your work too. Were you also caging yourself in, afraid to share your stress with him?

“Joonie…?” You groggily traced your hand on his side of the bed to find it cold and suddenly last night came back to you and you feared for the worst. You had thought you had resolved your fight. Sure you hadn’t talked about it fully yet but feeling the emptiness made your heart stop. Was he gone? Shooting up, all traces of sleep were gone as you searched the room for him, eyes still puffy from sleep calling his name again, louder this time.

“What’s wrong? I’m right here, babe.” He walked over and you relaxed watching him climb into bed, his back against the headboard as he kissed your forehead, while you moved to sit cross legged between his long legs in front of him.

“Sorry.” He felt you shake slightly as he smoothed your hair to comfort you. You looked up at him, your palm coming to rest against his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Thank you for last night.” He gazed at you, hoping to convey his true gratitude, his hand wrapping arounds yours in your lap. People had always left him alone when he was in that headspace, and he was amazed that you had not only confronted him but managed to pull him out of it. “I’m sorry you had to see me that way.”

“Don’t apologize.” You looked at him sternly before a blush crept on your cheeks and you averted your gaze to your joined hands. Now that he was in a better place, you felt your guilt from last night coming back. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made it hard for you to believe that I love you.”

“It’s not that… I think I just had a fucked up idea of how girlfriends show love.” He smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I just got insecure about you not being jealous or territorial… I don’t know. It’s pretty dumb” He chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh… I was jealous.” You looked at him with wide eyes as he looked at you with shock. He was sure you were trying to placate him but he wanted to hear your reasoning. “I… I rationalize my feelings. I don’t go off the first thing, you know?” You shrugged sheepishly as you continued. “I feel a thing and then I go ‘hmm wrong reaction, let’s fix that’ so yeah of course I was jealous, are you kidding me? But then I thought it wasn’t an adult response to feel like that so I pretended till I was okay with it.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at that. He spent two days feeling like he was defected for being jealous of random men, even Yoongi. Of course you had more restraint over your emotions than him. He was in awe of you and he felt like a complete idiot. He leaned forward to pull you closer, arms around your waist to pull him to his chest and kissed you once, before you pushed him off.

“Hey! Stop laughing at me! I’m being vulnerable here!” You pouted, moving your arms around his neck. You knew he wasn’t laughing at you and you were glad he took your confession so well. To be completely honest, you had always felt your trait of rationalizing your feelings was your worst - it created a rift between you and other people who often deemed you as cold and heartless. It pained you that this same trait had made Namjoon so insecure.

Namjoon to his credit, stopped laughing immediately, instead looking at you with a fond smile. “I’m sorry baby. I’m laughing at myself - at how much of an idiot I am.” He once again kissed you, his lips moulding to yours, moving languidly. “I can’t believe that was my barometer for your love. Shit, I’m a fucking idiot.” He giggled, his lips a few centimeters away from yours.

“You’re not an idiot, Joonie.” You frowned a little, cupping his face as you looked into his deep brown eyes. He poked lightly at the corner of your mouth, hoping to remove the frown, looking at you seriously before speaking.

“I hope you know, you don’t have to filter yourself for me, Y/N. You can tell me if you feel jealous or stressed or sad or angry or whatever. I won’t ever judge you.” You felt lighter hearing his words, even though you knew that by now your feelings filter was pretty much an automatic response, it felt nice to hear that you didn’t need to be as careful around him.

Seeing your smile, Namjoon kissed you again, moving your backwards till you laid down under him. His kisses were relaxed, slow, as if he had all the time in the world, and it made your heart blossom. However, you knew that you still needed to talk about his feelings from last night. It wasn’t like you to let things stew, and so before things could get more heated you suggested going to the roof to watch the sunrise. Namjoon finally agreed after a few more lingering kisses, both of you changing into your hoodies and sweats before walking up to the rooftop.

You both laughed when you reached the top of the stairs at the obscenely large no entry sign that was much more evident now that you weren’t in a wild haze of emotions. Choosing to pointedly ignore it once again, you open the door to walk to the edge of the railing. It seemed that the rain last night had cleared the air, the cool morning breeze feeling fresher as you looked over downtown Detroit, the first rays of sunlight breaking over the shiny skyscrapers.

After a few minutes of enjoying the view, you turned to your boyfriend, intertwining your fingers. He had a small smile on his face as he looked over the city, his other hand under his chin, elbow resting on the railing. The first few rays of sunlight reflected off his face, making him look almost ethereal. “Joon, can I ask you something?” Still looking at the view, he hummed in approval. “Why didn’t you tell me you collapsed last week?”

“Probably the same reason you didn’t tell me how hard your board was hounding you for this proposal.” He looked at you pointedly, squeezing your hand, as you let out a sigh.

The cat was out of the bag for the both of you. It felt odd to talk about your stresses after so long, and therein lies the problem. The two of you started this long distance with promises of keeping each other updated but started rethinking that as soon as the stress piled on. Neither of you wanted to burden each other with your stress, but the more you both talked about it you realized the two of you had just been disrespecting each other, assuming the other couldn’t handle your reality and taking away their autonomy to make that decision. You both talked in hushed whispers as if discussing a shameful secret. Well, you guess it was pretty shameful the way you had been hiding in the bathroom at work to avoid talking to people, or that your one glass of whiskey after work had turned to four.

Namjoon assured you he wanted to share your burden and he wanted to share his with you too. He told you about his own shame - of trolling the internet for self-esteem destroying messages - chuckling at your proclamation that you would report every single message till they didn’t exist. It felt nice to finally tell someone, tell you, about his tortuous midnight habit. He also shared his stress about interviews, the anxiety that comes with having to translate for everyone and making sure he does the good job at representing not only his band but his country internationally.

“Okay this cannot happen again. We can’t fuck our communication up this bad every time we do long distance!” you exclaimed after almost two hours of you catching each other up on your less than ideal month. Namjoon was now sitting on the floor, back against the railing as you sat between his legs, your back on his chest and his chin resting on your shoulder. You squeezed his hand in yours. “We need to strategize how to be better!” You turned sideways as Namjoon burst out laughing.

“Damn you really are a CEO. You want to strategize our relationship?” Namjoon had calmed down enough to look at you incredulously.

“Joonie! I’m just trying to make sure we don’t fight again. I didn’t like it.” Namjoon sees your face fall at that as you look to the ground, a little sigh escaping, before he lifts your chin to look at you. You looked at him sadly. “We really had our first fight, huh?”

“No. We had our first makeup” He looks at you with conviction, eye contact not wavering in the least before he kisses you softly on the lips, watching a small smile evaporating your frown. “Okay let’s do it. What’s your strategy, boss?”

And so the two of you came up with three rules to foolproof the rest of your long distance. One, you switched your calls from goodnight to good morning calls, when both of you had enough mental semblance to stitch a proper sentence together (and so you could scold each other if you ended up pulling unnecessary all-nighters). Two, you would never assume the other person was not mentally ready to hear about your stress but would instead ask if they were okay with listening to you. You were to never assume you were a burden on the other person, because you both wanted to support each other. And lastly, your safewords were no longer for the bedroom, instead you both decided to use the colour system on your fights or heavier conversations, giving each other the opportunity to call yellow or red on a topic you weren’t ready to discuss. You didn’t know if this strategy was the best, but you would never know unless you tried it out.

With the sun getting higher and your stomachs growling for sustenance you decided to stand up, looking at the view one last time before venturing downstairs. The city was alive, cars moving around, people rushing to their Sunday plans. It was beautiful. You leaned back, closing your eyes as you took in the sun. “Ah! Healing rooftops!”

“You know, I don’t get the ‘healing power of rooftops’ thing you have.” Namjoon looked at your blissed out face as he put his arm around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at the view, thinking of last night. “All I see are empty offices. Doesn’t it feel lonely?”

“Nah, Joonie. You’re looking at it wrong. For every empty office that means that that person is home safe with their loved ones. Isn’t that the opposite of lonely?” He was taken aback by your positive spin on the situation. He smiled at you warmly as his arms tightened around you. He loved that even though you always said you were cold and people called you Ice Queen, all he ever saw was a soft-hearted optimist. He kissed your cheek as you giggled.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Joonie.”

————

previous | masterlist | next

[crowtrinkets]

Just Come Home

Asra just wants his friends back.

Muriel Reversed ending spoilers!

A short sad fic cause I like pain apparently. 

Gender Neutral Apprentice/ Asra POV (Ends where they show up in Muriels ending)

Word Count: 1,398

The last time I saw them was in the midst of a crowd, after Lucio was, killed panic swelled in the coliseum causing a influx of people screaming, running, trying to get out. I tried to find them, my apprentice, my Muriel, but they were no where to be found.

No sooner after Lucio died, the walls and limits between our world and the world of the arcana began to break and form into one. We didn't realize it at the time but there always has to be a devil. Always. And we all collectively made the mistake of allowing Lucio to die. Inanna managed to escape but I didn’t see where she went, if I found her we could have tracked them together. 

After a few hours I met up with Nadia, Julian, and Portia. We later learned a group of people drove them out of town. Blaming them for the disasters that are now plaguing Vesuvia, plaguing the world.

I tried to reach out to Muriel and my Apprentice with my magic, hoping they sensed me. But I was always ignored. I even sent Faust to look for them in the forest while I searched Muriel's hut at one point, but they were no where to be found.

After weeks of trying to call out to them, Nadia told me she heard of a large man and a magician in the south, killing creatures from the arcana realms for coin. It had to be them.

"Asra! Asra where are you going?" Julian's voice called out to me as I stormed out the palace.

"I'm going to find them Ilya," I say without a second glance. Julian's hand grips my arm and I swing around to glare at him.

"Asra we don't even know where they are! And people are still rioting do you think bringing them back would be safe?" his eyes plead as they stare into mine. I let out a deep breath. 

"Fine... But I won't rest until we find them," Julian gives me a warm smile, he grips my hand, but I don't return the comfort, I can't focus on this right now. I pull away and head back into the palace, Julian at my heels.

---

We spend months, writing letters to neighboring cities and towns, asking if they've seen our friends, but every time we get close they slip away. It's hard to tell where they're heading next because so many monsters appear in so random of places. It's like finding a needle in a haystack. Julian and I continue to grow distant as the months go by. He keeps making an effort but my heart aches too much for my oldest and dearest friends. We continue to search, to run from monsters, hide from disasters that are too strange to be considered natural. Endless rain, flooding, earthquakes that go on for what feels like hours

One day Julian and I make a stop in a town, we rent a room in an inn for the night. Allowing our weary bones to relax just for a day. I sit on the bed, letting out a sigh, Faust curls around my shoulders and onto the floor, making her way to the fire place. It does little to heat this dark room as wind whistles through it's cracks. Julian settles himself on the bed next to me. He places his hand on top of mine but I pull it away. He looks at me, hurt in his eyes.

"Asra, please if I did anything to make you upset-"

"You didn't do anything Ilya," I mumble out. I feel my chest tighten, I shift my gaze away from his. "I feel... hurt, without them,"

"We all feel their loss Asra,

"They aren't dead," I snap. I feel my eyes well up, gripping the bed sheets I take in a sharp breath. "They aren't dead, and I intend to find them before they get themselves killed,"

"They'll be fine," Julian gets to his feet.

"How could you possibly know that?" I look up at him, finally meeting his stormy eyes. Julian looks back at me in surprise. "They're my oldest friends Julian," he winces at my use of his other name. "I can't live without them," my voice begins to choke up, but I refuse to let myself cry in front of him. Julian gives me a somber nod, he grabs his coat and heads for the door. He stops before leaving and looks at me over his shoulder.

"We can leave, first thing in the morning," without another word, he leaves our room, closing the door behind him.

I let out a huff and fall onto my back on the bed. Bringing my arm over my eyes I let my tears fall slowly. I don't make any cries, the tears just fall silently, as though my emotions have built up too much and they are now escaping through my tears. A dripping sound interrupts me. I wipe the tears from my eyes and sit up. Looking in the corner scanning for the source of the sound I spot a bucket, catching water leaking through the roof. An idea strikes me, maybe I can talk to them if they're near a source of water. I run up to the bucket, pulling it away from the leak so the water isn't disturbed. Crouching on the ground I cast my spell, reaching out with my magic to find their auras.

A minute passes and when I finally open my eyes, I see them. There are trees surrounding them, Muriel is sat on the ground, my Apprentice standing at his side, it seems like they are cleaning a wound on his face. My apprentice reaches down into the water to rinse the cloth they were using but they stop when they spot me.

"Asra,"

"Oh! Muriel, -," before I can finish Muriel gets up and stalks away in the other direction. My apprentice lets out a sigh.

"What are you doing Asra," they turn to face me once again, a weariness takes over their expression. They look tired.

"We've been looking for you, trying to get your two to come home..." I try not to sound desperate with my pleading in fear of scaring them.

"Asra.. we have no home there, we were driven out... and besides I don't think Muriel is ready to go back, I'm not ready to go back,"

"No, w-we can fix it! And you're always welcome back, please just come home, come back to the shop... I miss you both, we all do,"

"I'm sorry Asra, it's not possible," They wave their hand and suddenly their image is gone. Leaving me alone. The howling of the storm outside, muffled behind the walls. I bring my head into my hands and begin to sob.

---

Many months pass and they repeat the same cycle. Julian and I make out way in one direction, and come up with nothing. We go back to Vesuvia, and are sent back out by Nadia to find them. It goes on and on until the one year mark passes. A year since I have seen my dearest friends. Julian has become nearly a whole different person. He doesn't crack jokes, he doesn't charm his way through trouble, and he seems to avoid my affection whenever possible. It doesn't bother me, my one goal is to bring my friends.. my family back home. Maybe I've changed as well.

After making our way to the south, Julian and I hear rumors of Muriel and my apprentice popping up in a town, something about a creature killing off livestock. We stalk our way through the storm that pours down on us. Struggling to stay upright against the rain. We finally make our way into town and spot a Inn. Julian and I look to each other and give a nod. We approach the Inn, swinging open the door, my breath hitches. There I see them. My Apprentice looks up at Muriel, their hand over his chest, their eyes look sad and distant. But I can see the love they still have for Muriel as they look at him. Muriel places his hand on top of theirs and looks at them fondly, but the familiar painful expression he used to have sits behind his fondness. Without waiting a second longer I make my way towards them. 

[tessiete]

For the Spotify fanfic ficlet: 12 for the Kenobi-Kryze fam? 🥺

@lightasthesun so here’s the deal. I STRUGGLED with this. Because I wanted to give you happy, fun, fluffy times, and there are some real bangers on my Wrapped. I mean, relative bangers.

But you picked probably the most Obitine-angst appropriate song ever, and I was like......oh, no. I can’t - I can’t do that to them.

So, after several days of thinking about it, we came up with this. It’s...I refuse to call it angst, bc everyone is alive, and well. It’s just like, some family fun times. Thanks, especially to the Obitine discord, and @duchess-of-mandalore @mg024 and Finn!

And anyway, I hope you love it! Thank you so much for the challenge! <3

Prompt: The Chain (Ingrid Michaelson)

THE CHAIN

The sky over Capital City is grey, and tremulous when they arrive on Coruscant. A natural storm had surged over the breakers of the planet’s ancient atmo regulators to sound its rage and fury out above the city. It’s rare, but not unheard of, and though some might take it as an ill omen, Satine thinks it a fair reflection of the twisting winds within her breast. Rain falls in great, heavy drops, lashing its grief across the transparisteel viewports as they break through the clouds. Thunder cracks, righteous and defiant. Lightning fractures the plate of the sky, reaching out with jealous fingers to touch the earth. Korkie has slept through it all, but Satine doesn’t want to miss any moment more than she must.

They hit the pad with the sudden jolt of gravity reasserting itself, the locking clamps securing them in place. She feels each shudder of the ship echoing in her bones, the soft satyn of her simple travelling gown like water over her skin. Every contrast feels sharp, and malicious. She takes Korkie’s small hand in her larger one, and together they wait for the ramp to lower, releasing them into the wilds outside.

And they are met.

Across the platform, standing silent in the downpour, is Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Though her vision blurs, and renders his face unreadable, she can see the straight line of his shoulders, the proud tilt of his chin, and the defiant stance of his feet spread wide. His hands are hidden in the fold of his cloak, and at his back are Masters Windu and Jinn.

At Satine’s back is the black maw of the ship, and the wind whistling through it. Korkie laughs, and she looks away from the Jedi to see her son, hands out, catching rain. 

“It’s wet! Belli, look!” he says, showing her his hand, shining in the grey light. “The sky is crying!”

Satine feels the rain coursing over her own face, and smiles in recognition of his delight.

“It is,” she says. “Happy tears, of course. Coruscant is glad to meet you, kih'kairkiyc.”

He grins at her, and she squeezes his hand, and together they cross the narrow bridge from the ship’s dock to the reception platform where they are met by Obi-Wan. He steps forward, and bows, deep, and formal.

“Duchess,” he says. His voice does not waver, but lies flat, and orderly in the space between them. 

He is much the same as she remembers, though his hair is longer, and his braid is cut. A beard has grown in, at long last, though she does not like how it covers his mouth, and hides half his face, and she longs to reach out and wipe it away so she might be able to read him again, like she used to. But there is more than an arm’s length between them, so instead, she nods her head in acknowledgement.

“Knight Kenobi,” she says, like glass, clean and showing nothing of itself.

Korkie tugs at her hand, and she pulls him forward to introduce him next. His fingers linger at the tips of hers as she lets him go. He takes a step. He takes a breath, and just as they’d practiced, he bows with his hands clasped before him, until his back is level with the floor.

“How do you do, Knight Kenobi?” Then, in succession, “Master Windu. Master Jinn.”

The three Jedi return the gesture. Master Windu is tense, and wary of her, she can tell, still unconvinced of the wisdom in this. Obi-Wan’s eyes are fixed on her, but Qui-Gon Jinn smiles at the boy, and Korkie stumbles back until he falls against his mother’s stomach, his hand reaching out to fist in the fabric of her gown to steady himself.

“Hello Korkie,” the old Jedi greets. His voice is soft, like birdwatchers in Keldabe before. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Obi-Wan is pulled from his study of the past by this reminder of their present company. His hands drop, and he shifts, leaning towards her, his head ducked and uncertain.

“I apologise for the weather,” he says. “I would have - if there had been any indication of inclemence such as this, I would have suggested somewhere with a roof.”

“Of course,” Satine says, too quickly. Then, bridling herself, she continues. “Coruscant is usually such a civilised, and well-behaved planet, it could not have been foreseen.”

There is the promise of forgiveness at the end of her declaration, which Obi-Wan accepts with relief, and they smile at each other. It is brief, and carried more in their eyes, than in their mouths or hands, but it is there nonetheless.

“And you, Master Korkie,” says Qui-Gon, with a smirk of his own. “Are you more civilised, and well-behaved than you appear at first glance?”

He gestures to Korkies rumpled tunic, and mussed hair which sticks up in wild tussocks like knots of grass.

“Someone was rather exhausted by our journey,” says Satine, fondly. “He fell asleep just past Corsin.”

“It was rather a long flight,” says Korkie, in his own defence. “And I don’t much like flying. Lightspeed always feels funny.”

At this, Qui-Gon kneels to meet Korkie on his level, and speaks as if he is confessing some great secret.

“Do you know,” he says, “That Knight Kenobi also dislikes flying.”

Korkie throws a wondering glance at Obi-Wan, who shifts beneath the scrutiny.

“Truly?” he asks Qui-Gon.

The Jedi nods. “Yes, truly. Only he stays awake the whole time.”

“Why?”

“I think in order to complain,” says Qui-Gon. “He needs to be sure that I am equally as miserable as he is, otherwise he feels lonely for company. But it does make for a very long trip, from my point of view.”

“That’s silly, Knight Kenobi,” declares Korkie. He turns to address Obi-Wan directly, and though he speaks critically, his brow is lifted, and his eyes wide in an earnest desire to ease the knight’s discomfort. “It’s much better if you sleep,” he says, with all the wisdom of a moment. “The time goes by much faster.”

Obi-Wan is forced to accept his master’s censure with grace as to spare the gentle feelings of an innocent child, so he smiles, and bows to acknowledge the boy.

“As you say, Master Kryze. You are probably right.”

“I know I am,” Korkie says. “Even though I do look a little wild in the end. But I feel tidy. So I suppose it’s just a matter of which part of me you look at.”

With a rumble that starts deep in his belly, then tumbles out like thunder, Qui-Gon Jinn laughs.

“A man after my own heart,” he says, giving Korkie a little clap on the shoulder. “I foresee you will become a great Jedi, Kiorkicek Kryze.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Duchess, Obi-Wan,” says Master Windu, stepping between the parties, “But as this rain doesn’t look to be letting up any time soon, may I suggest we complete the investiture ceremony somewhere a little drier?”

He levels Obi-Wan with a challenging glance, but its severity is diminished somewhat by his own bedraggled state. Despite their equal exposure, the rain has somehow managed to do more damage to Mace Windu’s composure than any of the others. Perhaps because he is more conscious of his position, and his dignity than the other two, Qui-Gon being rather untroubled by such pretensions, and Obi-Wan still humbled and distracted by the circumstances in which he’s come face to face with the unquiet ghosts of his past. Both of them wear the rain with ease, but Mace has struggled, unable to convince himself of the need to shield himself, but conscious of the desire. His cloak is patchy with damp, and the top of his head reflects the sky, the water washing his face, and dripping from his lips and chin. It is clear that Obi-Wan feels this indignity on his superior’s behalf, but Satine fights laughter at the spectacle.

“I think that would be wise, Master Windu,” she says, her voice tripping and sparking with barely repressed delight.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he says, with a shallow bow. And then he says, “There is an air car waiting.”

And Satine feels her stomach drop.

She meets Obi-Wan’s eye over Mace’s shoulder. His gaze is steady, and somber and as he makes his answer to the master’s request, and she can hear farewell in the heaviness of his voice.

“Yes, Master Windu,” he says. “Satine, I’m sorry we must be so brief, but I -” and he stands gaping, and voiceless for a moment.

The tight knuckle of sickness twists in her gut, scraping across the raw nerves of the underside of her skin, buckling muscles, and shifting against her bones, but she swallows the nausea back, and saves Obi-Wan from the inexorable void of silence.

“Do not apologise, Obi-Wan,” she says. “These things cannot be helped. Perhaps it is better this way. Perhaps the sting will be less.”

“Like a plaster,” he says, numbly.

And she agrees. “Just like.”

Master Jinn’s rises from his crouch, leaving his hands to ghost over Korkie’s shoulders, his hand still wrapped in her own, and Obi-Wan still staring at her, still drowning in the rain. Master Windu is merciful then, and bows out his leave taking.

“I’ll prepare the car,” he says.

“Thank you, Mace,” says Qui-Gon, when no one says anything else, and Master Windu leaves them to say goodbye. 

But still, no one moves. Silence falls, a fragile, lacework thing, too delicate to touch with the clumsy fingers of speech. They remain suspended in its web for an age, until Qui-Gon braves what the others cannot fathom, and speaks again.

“Obi-Wan,” he says, stepping away from Korkie to reach for his own grown padawan. “A word.”

He draws him aside, turning away, turning their backs to Satine and Korkie, and speaking quietly in Obi-Wan’s ear, an arm about his shoulders, and drawing him close in private assignation. At another time, she might feel ostracised and othered by this, but now, she is grateful. It is she who is with Korkie, and the Jedi who must stand apart.

She kneels to face her son, heedless of her skirt, of the thin satyn and how it catches at the rough duracrete, pulling taut, maybe tearing beneath the pressure of her knees. She doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: herself, and her son, and the rain washing away the things between them.

“I don’t want to go,” says Korkie, and she grips his hands tighter than before.

“You must,” she says. “You must. You are going to be a wonderful Jedi Knight. Just think of that.”

“I don’t care,” he says. “I know I said before, but I changed my mind. I want to go home.”

“You can’t go home, kih'kairkiyc,” she replies, her tongue growing thick with a truth she hates to speak. “Remember? We talked about this. It’s dangerous. But you will be safe here. Knight Kenobi will protect you.”

“But who will protect you if I’m not there?”

“Oh, many people, Kiorkicek,” she says. “A whole court of people. All the people. The people of Mandalore will be my strength, and they will take very good care of me while you’re away, and one day, when you come home, they will be glad to meet you again, and so will I.”

“Do you promise?” he asks. “You won’t forget me? Even if I’m gone for a very long time?”

“Even if you were gone for almost as long as forever, I would never forget you, Kiorkicek Kryze. Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad. Ratiin.”

“Ratiin,” he repeats. “Always, and always.”

“Yes,” she avows. “Now, do you remember what I told you?”

“To wash my face, and brush my teeth every day, even if I’m very sleepy.”

And she laughs, pulling him close to her breast, and tucking his head beneath her chin.

“Yes,” she says. “That is very important, but what else?”

“To listen to the masters, and study hard, and show respect, and try my best, and to always, always be very kind to Knight Kenobi, because he isn’t always very kind to himself.”

“Yes,” she whispers. She presses a kiss to his hair, and combs it as flat as she can. “That last part, most especially, kih'kairkiyc. Look after each other. For me.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Belli.”

“Bal Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, balyc.”

“Satine?” The call is Obi-Wan’s and she looks up from the cradle of her embrace, and her son within it to see him standing cautious, and concerned a few paces away. “It’s time to go.” 

“Of course,” she says. She stands. She takes Korkie’s hand, nestled in her own, and places it in Obi-Wan’s. For a moment, the three of them are one, together, and then…

She lets go.

“Goodbye, my Kiorkicek,” she says. “Remember what I told you. Kote, ijaa, aliit. Ratiin.”

He nods, and she can see his grip tighten on Obi-Wan’s hand, fierce determination rising in the face of her expectations. It is Obi-Wan who falters.

“Satine, I -” he shakes his head. His eyes match the storm. “I will do my best by him, I swear. I will not fail you. I will not.”

“I know,” she says, steady where he is not. “I would not give him up to another. None but you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Gar ratiin ru’kar'taylir. Be gentle with it.”

He nods. There is nothing else to say, and they’ve always been terrible at goodbye. She smiles at Korkie one last time, and he points at the sky.

“Happy tears,” he says, and grins, wiping the salty streaks from his own face.

And with that, he tugs on Obi-Wan’s hand, and leads him off towards the distant figure of Mace Windu, and the air car waiting patiently to take them home.

But Satine is not alone.

Qui-Gon Jinn steps close, until she can feel his shoulder jut up against her own, the warmth of his body breaching the barricade of wet clothes, to soothe her own chapped skin, and she shivers against him.

For a moment, they say nothing, just watching as Obi-Wan turns to Korkie, and Korkie to Obi-Wan, chatting animatedly, his free hand swooping through the air. She imagines he must be telling him of their departure from Mandalore, and the world he left behind, and she hopes that selfishly, she might be included in as many of these stories as he thinks to tell, because he is in all of hers. Qui-Gon chuckles beside her.

“Fast friends, already,” he says.

“Forgotten just as fast,” she whispers, nearly losing the words to the storm. But Qui-Gon is listening closely.

“Never that,” he says. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she yields like water, dropping her head to his shoulder, and weeping into the crook of his neck.

“I thought I was ready,” she says, hitching breaths to match the shifting winds. “But it has come too soon.”

She feels his chin press against her skull, and though it isn’t exactly comfortable, there is comfort in the angles of his affection, and she leans closer to him, until her arms sneak beneath the wet folds of his outer robe, and wrap around his waist. She clings there, as though she might blow away. This is familiar, though it is an old, old memory, now. She was once a girl, before she was a Duchess, and Qui-Gon Jinn was once to her the very thing her father could not be. She was bereaved, but never lost, and there were many nights that Qui-Gon held her while she wept just like this. It is easy to reach for him, now. It is easy to look back.

“You are never ready,” he says, his voice vibrating so near to her ear it is as though he speaks to her from within her own mind. “But he is not going very far. He is with his family. He is with his father. You are not losing him to the wilderness.”

“No,” she says. “Only to the Force.”

He does not chide her for the bitterness upon her tongue.

His own words remain gentle, and soothing, and he rocks her in his arms, as they watch the matched set of their hearts walk away.

“Then I have lost my own heart twice,” he says. “First to the Force, and then to you. But people always come back, in one way or another. No one is gone forever.”

And as they reach the car, as though he hears their call from across a vast, unending night, and over the wind and roar of the storm, Obi-Wan looks back, and Qui-Gon smiles.

“Oh, look,” he says, as the knight turns once more to his son. “There he goes again.”

Satine buries her face in Qui-Gon’s arms, and though she doesn’t feel at peace, for a moment, she feels like she has come home.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Love you (not) - Chapter 1

I can't believe it's already @marichatmay again... What a year. This time, I won't be jumping in completely blindly into the challenge, I've got it mostly planned out in a single fic, which starts on the same day as Weredad, but embraces the fake-dating shenanigans because yes. This relationship will be mutually unrequited from our beloved characters' point of view, until it's not anymore.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3 | Next

---

Chapter 1: In which the author sees the fake dating shenanigans canon provided and deems they weren’t enough

“That’s because I’m… In love with you!”

The words still echoed in Marinette’s head hours after they’d been said, and covering her eyes and ears with her arms as she laid in bed did nothing to make them less loud.

Stupid words coming out of her mouth unbidden. Untrue, too.

She ought to have told Chat Noir that she’d had every right to be standing on her rooftop at night, after an Akuma had destroyed her room. She totally would’ve been allowed to feel slightly claustrophobic and want to take a breath of fresh air; or even to want to check that everything was back to normal.

But noooooo. She’d had to declare her love for him. She grunted at the thought that saying she had a crush on him would have been more than enough. He would’ve gotten the gist, he could’ve turned her down gently, and they could have marched on as if nothing had happened. It wasn’t like they ran into each other that often - like this, anyway.

But now Chat was coming over for lunch with her family, and he’d surely want an explanation. How could she backtrack? How could she explain to him that she’d blurted the first thing that had come to her mind to avoid him discovering that she was his superhero partner, whom he happened to be in love with, without telling him that part? You don’t just accidentally confess your love to someone instead of saying you were just hanging out on your balcony.

She tossed in her bed. She had to solve the situation. She had to come clean to him at lunch, at least to clear her conscience.

Maybe sleep would help organise her thoughts so she wouldn’t say anything stupid.

If she could only get the damn words out of her head.

---

“That’s because I’m… In love with you!”

Saying Marinette’s words had been unexpected was probably the understatement of the year, Adrien thought as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

His first thought after seeing her had been that she must’ve been a fan. Of Ladybug, at least, and maybe of his. Given how close she and Alya were, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been out to catch something to contribute to the Ladyblog. After all, her balcony had been a particularly excellent spot that night to snatch some close-up pictures of the heroes, and maybe even an interview.

Not to mention the other reason that explained her presence, which he’d realised after giving it a little more thought: they’d been fighting quite literally on her doorstep.

But even if he could’ve thought about it for ages, there was no way that he could have even suspected the real reason she’d been waiting on her balcony. That she was in love with him. With Chat Noir.

But then again, he thought as he shifted to his side, maybe it did make sense. It kind of explained why she didn’t have a significant other (not that girls needed a boyfriend or a girlfriend, but couples were pretty common at Françoise Dupont). Given how kind and amazing Marinette was, and how many people had had crushes on her (Nino being a fine exhibit A), Adrien had kind of wondered why she didn’t have people flocking around to ask her out. Her being in love with Chat Noir was new information for him, but maybe it was common knowledge, and he just hadn’t paid enough attention.

It wasn’t like they talked about their feelings much at school, he supposed, wondering if that meant she didn’t trust him enough to confide in him. He shook away the small wave of sadness and... was it yearning? that overcame him at the thought, and recentered the topic.

The point was, he’d been too taken by surprise by Marinette’s confession to process it in time and turn her down in the gentlest way possible. Or even at all.

If anything, he’d dived straight into a potential relationship by accepting lunch at her parents’.

That didn’t send out the right message at all.

He had to fix it. Soon, before it got out of hand, so as not to lead her on. He had to do it the next day.

Sleep would help him make his rebuttal as smooth as possible.

If only he could just get her words out of his head.

---

As she stood guard on her balcony the next morning, threatening grey clouds hanging over the horizon, Marinette entertained the hope that Chat Noir wouldn’t come over at all, which would solve the problem of coming clean to him, and the newly formed outrage that Chat Noir was falling in love way too easily these days. So much for the strength of his love towards Ladybug, really.

It seemed a little cowardly for him not to respect his commitment to lunch, but it had been pretty last minute, and kind of surreal; she would have understood, and she was sure her parents would have as well. It wasn’t like Chat Noir wasn’t one of the superheroes of Paris; she would have been ready to sign him a waver as Ladybug saying he’d been dealing with some Very Important Business on the other side of town if the topic ever came up with her parents.

This is why she was almost surprised to see him vault across the rooftops, clearly making his way towards the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, just as she’d been ready to give up on his presence. She grunted internally as Tikki gloated, and made her way downstairs to greet him.

Tom stood proudly next to the table, which she’d laid out for four people. She hid an embarrassed eye roll. It almost felt like he was the one who was waiting for his date. At least, he seemed a lot more excited about it than she was.

“Come on Marinette, open the door for him!” He all but pushed her towards the entrance.

She did as she was told, and had barely had time to register Chat Noir’s greeting when she was pushed aside, Tom engulfing her guest in a bear hug. She facepalmed. This was not sending the right message at all .

He’s going to think that I stayed up all night gushing about him to my parents, and that I’m convinced that I’m going to marry him even though we’ve only talked like twice before, this is a disaster, he’s going to think I’m insane and -

Her inner freak out was interrupted by her mother reminding her father that Chat Noir did need to breathe, which coincidentally shut down any analysis of why Chat thinking she was insane would be such a terrible thing, when really, sending him running would solve most of her immediate problems.

She was suddenly facing her partner with a mind void of all social etiquette. How did one greet someone one had recently declared their love to? Was shaking hands appropriate? Or was it more of an elaborate fistbump situation? This situation would be a lot less awkward if my parents weren’t staring and- woah, what does he think he’s doing?? She thought as she saw Chat lean forward with his lips puckered up. Surely we’re not there yet?! Even if I told him I loved him?

She froze as his face approached hers, her lips automatically kissing Chat’s cheeks when she realised he was simply going in for the classic, friendly, Parisian bise . Thank goodness , she sighed discreetly as they pulled away.

“Here, I wasn’t sure what to bring,” Chat Noir scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he handed her a rose.

A pale pink rose, she noted as she took it. Symbolising gentleness and gratitude. He wasn’t jumping into this relationship like he did with Ladybug. There was hope yet.

“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful of you,” she replied with a smile, interrupting her father before he blurted out whatever well-meaning, but unhelpful and slightly embarrassing speech he had lined up. She turned towards her parents. “Maman, Papa, is lunch ready yet?”

“Not exactly, I’m sorry, Mr. Chat Noir, I wasn’t exactly sure when you were arriving…” Tom replied a little sheepishly.

“That’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine, Papa, don’t worry about it. Can Chat Noir and I go upstairs for a bit?” Marinette laughed awkwardly.

Sabine smiled knowingly, and put a hand on her husband’s arm. “I think that’s a great idea. Tom, why don’t you prepare some vol-au-vents for them to snack on?”

“Of course!” Marinette watched her father rush around the corner and pile the amuse-bouches on a plate. “You’ll have to tell me what you think, I tried a new recipe in honour of young love.” He shoved the plate in Marinette’s hands and all but pushed them up the stairs. “Have fun, you two! And leave the door open!”

Marinette ran up the stairs and put the plate down on her desk before hiding her face in her hands, mortified. “I’m so sorry about my Dad.” She peeked at Chat Noir from behind her fingers. “He’s not usually this intense with people he’s just met.”

“I kind of like it, actually.” Chat smiled. “It’s nice that he cares.” He picked up a vol-au-vent and studied it, before gobbling it down. Marinette could have sworn that his gaze had darkened.

She played with a piece of fabric that poked out from her project hamper, unsure what to say next. Chat ate another pastry. In the silence that surrounded them, the slight pitter-patter of the rain that had finally broken out on her roof was deafening.

“Listen, I need to tell you something-” They both started simultaneously.

“You go,” Marinette gestured towards him.

“No, you,” he gestured back.

“You’re the guest, you should go first,” she encouraged him.

Chat Noir took a deep breath and accepted to bite the bullet. “Listen, Marinette, I really like you. You’re amazing. To be honest, I’d love to know you better…” He scratched the back of his head.

Marinette had bitten the inside of her cheeks as she kept a smiling façade during his praise, but she had to interrupt him. “Chat… I really don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I put you on the spot last nice and I’d really hate you to think that because I... have feelings for you,” she winced as she spoke, even though she knew deep inside that there was no better way of putting it and that she had to stick with her lie, “you have to go out with me or something, or even stay here.”

“There’s no obligation, I promise, Marinette,” Chat said earnestly as he looked at her put on a brave face. It was just like her to put her feelings aside if it could make him happy, but he couldn’t just leave. He had to make sure she was alright. She deserved that much, if not more. She was such a great friend.

“But really, if you have better things to do, I’d totally understand it…”

In the peculiar light of the spring shower, Marinette looked particularly anxious and tormented, Chat Noir noted. Leaving now, even though it would be best in the long run, was just a recipe for an Akuma. And if she did indeed get akumatised, he would feel like he’d planted a seed, and their environment had quite literally immediately gone to water it.

“If it’s what you want…” He probed.

Marinette realised that Chat looked very dejected at the idea of leaving; the way he gazed longingly at the vol-au-vents made her question if her partner ate enough as a civilian. She sighed as she saw that outside, the rain had intensified. She really couldn’t let him go now. Cats didn't mix well with water.

“ A table! ” Her mother’s voice came exactly at the right moment.

“I’d be very happy if you stayed.” She smiled, extending a hand towards him.

“Really?” His tone was hopeful as he walked towards her and took it.

“Yeah.” She led him downstairs, shaking her head imperceptibly at the thought that she was probably making a big mistake by doing this.

Seeing him laugh out loud at her father’s bad jokes, tears streaming down his face as he held his sides, before proceeding to eat like he hadn’t in a decade, encouraged by her mother, made her change her mind. Maybe she could keep up the charade for a bit, if it meant he could be this happy.

After all, even though she didn’t love Chat Noir that way, she still loved him a little bit. Enough to keep him out of the rain, that was for sure.

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 4 - Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: ~1900 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract, Hurt/Comfort, but zolf's not doing a great job of it, canon typical poor bedside manner zolf, Holding Hands, Massage

Summary: “A pair of eccentric foreigners building a dungeon? My, I hesitate to think what pictures they’re painting of us.” When Zolf looked up, Wilde’s mouth was seeking a path to his old smirk around the new routes of his face. He detoured through a wince and raised a hand as if to touch his cheek.

“Is it still botherin’ you?” Zolf’s said softly.

“It’s fine,” he said, dropping the hand.

“Wilde.” Zolf tilted his head in slight exasperation. “Let me have another look at it.”

JAPAN, One Month Later

Wilde was sitting at his desk staring blankly when Zolf came in. He blinked at the papers without looking up.

“How’s it all looking?” Zolf asked when it became clear Wilde either hadn’t noticed Zolf, or wasn’t going to acknowledge him. The faint sounds of construction work mingled with the steady fall of rain on a wooden roof, and the combination of sounds seemed to have a lulling effect on the man.

Wilde cleared his throat and moved one stack of papers to another fruitlessly; gave his head a little shake as though to clear the fog. He’d been doing that a lot lately.

Before Wilde was due to emerge from his self-imposed quarantine, Zolf had been stewing over how he might provide comfort to the man. He was sure that Wilde wouldn’t have coped at all, and Zolf would be forced to make it better somehow. How would he find words to help someone for whom polished words came so easy?

But he’d been surprised by Wilde’s immediate and steely practicality. He had come out of the room looking drawn and harrowed, but perfectly himself. “There absolutely has to be a better way of doing that,” he had announced, and headed straight for the bath. He’d done his best to wipe off the blood that had covered his face and neck, but there was still a little crusted into the cracks. Especially around the weal that now marred his face from temple to lips.

Instead of falling to pieces as Zolf half-expected from the fussy bard, Wilde had thrown himself into the work of finding, acquiring, and modifying a building fit-to-purpose at their next destination. If Wilde was in motion, he was fine. If he was busy and distracted, everything was fine. But as soon as he stopped… Zolf could see it for what it was, but he didn’t know how to change that. For two people who communicated either through business or bickering, letting Wilde stick to practicality was the easier path for Zolf.

“Wilde?” Zolf prompted again in the office. “How’s things?”

“Hm?” Wilde acknowledged, raising tired eyes. “Actually-” he paused, gathering his thoughts, “-it’s not looking too bad. The works on the isolation cell should be finished by the time Barnes and Carter are scheduled to return. As much as I am loath to send someone like Barnes on what is essentially a heist, our funds have been almost utterly drained.”

Zolf nodded. He’d shed his outer rain layer in the slush room, but his hair and beard were still slightly damp as he moved over to dry off by the warmth of the brazier. He didn’t look at Wilde as he spoke. “Aye, but Barnes is the one we can trust to come back with the funds. I’m still not so sure about Carter.”

Wilde just shrugged. “Howard simply cannot abide boredom, and I daresay what’s coming will hold enough novelty to entertain him awhile.”

Except for the seven days we’re going to jam him into a cell for, Zolf thought, but he didn’t speak the thought aloud.

The seven days in Damascus hadn’t exactly been easy for Zolf, either. Wilde had extracted Zolf’s promise not to open the door regardless of Wilde’s behavior, and Zolf was a man of his word. But for the whole week, the imprisoned man didn’t cry, or scream, or even talk most of the time. He was silent, leaving Zolf to stew in his own fears of being infected with whatever had turned the amiable Douglas into an attempted murderer.

Around day five Zolf had given up calling through the door to check on Wilde, only to be met with silence. He could have been dead for all Zolf had known.

But he wasn’t dead, or monstrous. He was right here. Needing action and movement to fill every moment of his waking hours so he could stay sane, but at least he was alive. “How are things on your end?” Wilde asked.

“Not too bad. Like you said, the locals are an alright bunch, and they’ve mostly got no idea what’s goin’ on in the wider world. I found a local carpenter who was able to tweak your designs for the trap door, and I reckon he thinks it’s all a bit of a laugh. Everyone seems to just think we’re a pair of odd foreigners, and they’re happy enough for the coin we’re spendin’.”

“A pair of eccentric foreigners building a dungeon? My, I hesitate to think what pictures they’re painting of us.” When Zolf looked up, Wilde’s mouth was seeking a path to his old smirk around the new routes of his face. He detoured through a wince and raised a hand as if to touch his cheek.

“Is it still botherin’ you?” Zolf’s said softly.

“It’s fine,” he said, dropping the hand.

“Wilde.” Zolf tilted his head in slight exasperation. “Let me have another look at it.” He moved to step behind the desk.

“I’m fine, Zolf. We both know that once a scar is healed up, there’s no point pouring more magic into it.” Wilde’s mouth was a hard line and he straightened up as he spoke. He’d been stooping a lot. He was quite frankly too tall for everything here and unused to Japanese style furniture. The agitation from his words flowed into his body, and as he straightened up, he started tilting his chin from one side to another to work out the kinks.

Zolf had paused. He was right, of course. There was nothing more that Zolf could do to fix the scar, and Wilde had bristled like an angry cat every time it was brought up. It hurt Zolf in a place he couldn’t quite reach nor name. Yes, Wilde had been a different, more focused man since they’d regrouped to work together, but before Douglas, Wilde still laughed at his own lewd jokes and sang sometimes just for the joy of it. That man was gone. And Zolf couldn’t reach back in time to bring him back, and he was powerless to heal the scar that dragged on Wilde’s mouth, so maybe he should just drop it.

I can’t fix the big things. I wouldn’t even know where to start, Zolf thought. But maybe I can do somethin’. Zolf found his momentum again and moved behind where Wilde sat.

“Here, le’ me.” Zolf laid his hands on Wilde’s shoulders. A beat passed, and Zolf was sure he would be shrugged off. But Wilde simply stilled.

When he wasn’t pushed away, Zolf squeezed his hands into the tight knots of Wilde’s shoulders, concentrating on the act. Wilde sighed, head relaxing forward slightly as steady fingers worked into bunched muscle, the light fabric of his shirt allowing Zolf to feel the warmth of skin beneath his fingers.

Wilde had put back on most of the weight he’d lost in Damascus. His hair’s gettin’ so long, Zolf thought, mildly disapproving. If he don’t cut it soon, he’ll have to start tyin’ it back. He idly brushed the hair to one side to reach under and cup the nape of Wilde’s neck, working thumb and index finger into the base of his skull. Zolf had half expected Wilde to tease him, or make some smart-ass comments, but for all his prickliness, he’d gone remarkably quiet and limp under Zolf’s hands.

Sometimes it’s easier to like him when he’s not talkin’, Zolf thought. Definitely easier to touch him.

Zolf’s mind drifted through the sounds of construction drifting up from the basement. Buying an entire inn had stretched the funds thin, and the island wasn’t flush with resources, so what they’d ended up with wasn’t exactly The Ritz. He’d wanted to make it a little nicer, not for him but for the inevitable time Wilde had to do it all again.

Zolf silently swore to Wilde that he could stay at the inn, stay safe, and Zolf would do the quarantines, so Wilde didn’t have to. Even as he promised it, he knew it was an oath he would break. Needs must, at the end of the world, after all.

Zolf continued to massage, and for a little while, there was nothing but the sound of rain.

Zolf was brought out of his reverie by the touch of Wilde’s hand covering his own. Wilde had raised a hand from the desk, reached to his opposite shoulder, and hesitantly laid it over Zolf’s. With a small start, he realised that he’d stopped massaging some time ago. He had come to stillness with hands sitting comfortably, one on Wilde’s shoulder, the other resting on the warm skin of the nape of his neck.

Zolf froze, gaze transfixed on their hands. They were like a miniature portrait of their statures; Wilde’s lanky and long, Zolf’s broad and sturdy. Zolf didn’t think as held his breath, flexing his hand, allowing each of Wilde’s fingers to slip in-between the gaps in his.

Wilde cleared his throat, finally. “Do you… do you think we’ll be safe here?”

When Zolf went to reply, he found his throat completely dry and unable to give voice to the roil of emotions inside him.

He wanted to lie. Yes, of course, completely.

He wanted to say I don’t know but I’ll keep you safe,

He wanted to tell the truth and say Of course we’re not safe. We were bloody safe in Damascus before you ignored me and acted the fool, and as that still-present anger bubbled to the surface he slipped his fingers out from between Wilde’s and stepped back.

“I don’t think anywhere is safe anymore,” he said to the back of Wilde’s head. Whatever anger he felt wasn’t worth voicing. There was nothing he could say that would punish Wilde more than he already had been. “But you’re more… focused now.”

Wilde’s shoulders immediately knotted back up. “More focused,” he repeated. “That’s one way of putting it.” He half-turned his head and ran a thumb down the scar, not in a way that seemed consciously pointed but in a gesture that hit Zolf like a missile to the chest.

Zolf clenched his still-warm hands for a moment, steeling himself, and placed his hand back where it had rested. “I’m sorry, Wilde. We’ll make it as safe as we can. I’m not- I’m not going anywhere.”

Wilde gave a grim little chuckle and shrugged Zolf’s hand off.

Zolf knew he was awful at this. He tried to say the right things, but Wilde was the one adept with nimble words and emotions. Zolf was out of his depth, and he hated that something about this eloquent, frustrating mess of a man made him feel like he was out past the shelf and floundering.

“Anyway. I’m going to bed.” Zolf stepped out from behind the desk and went straight for the door. Maybe if he could leave without looking at Wilde he could escape that clumsy feeling. But something, his good intentions perhaps, had him stop in the door and try one last time.

“G’night, Wilde. Try and get some sleep, aye?”

Wilde cocked his head, obviously debating whether to bite. Instead, he half smiled, eyes inscrutable. “I will try.” Was it nostalgia on his face? Regret? Before Zolf could figure it out, Wilde nodded a gentle dismissal and picked up a pen. “Goodnight, Zolf.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

Chapter 2

******

The rain outside falls harder, seemingly each time lightening strikes.

Said rain pounds against your body, drenching your clothes even more, as you nail the tarp into the ceiling. Another bolt strikes through the sky, providing the perfect light to hammer in the last nail.

Watching the rain roll off the tarp instead of inside the house, you slide to the edge of the roof and jump down. Quickly going inside.

The lit fireplace heats the room perfectly, but you still shiver from your wet clothes.

The annoying sound of water splashing into a tin bucket is no longer there, so you contentedly move the bucket from the middle of the kitchen.

Admittedly you should’ve fixed that hole when you first got to the safe house a month ago, instead of waiting for a storm to hit.

But you’d been distracted and on edge and there wasn’t much else for you to do at 2 a.m.

Which is proven as you look around the wooden house with a sigh.

Before your thoughts could run wild and your paranoia could set in, you decide to go shower.

The hot water rushing down your bodies soothes you as much as it can. Yet it also makes you think.

Think about everything that’s happened in the past month.

Having travelled all the way from Germany, where you last saw Natalia, to Switzerland, to now Italy.

You didn’t really have any reason to leave the first two safe houses. But you swore HYDRA had found you, or the KGB.

Laying down each night, eyes locked on the ceiling, not an ounce of sleep greeting you. Only to jump up in a panic at the first uncommon noise and rush out of the safe house.

You’re determined, this time, to stay until it was rationally and genuinely necessary to leave.

Finally getting out of the shower, you get dressed, and go to find something to eat.

Your kitchen is horribly stocked.

Still, you manage to pull together a peanut butter sandwich.

It brings a nostalgic feeling to you. You recall all the moments you’d shared with Natasha over this very small, minuscule, snack.

******Flashback******

“Shhhhh.”

The red head beside you giggled again, this time slapping her hand over her mouth to muffle it.

With the shorter girl behind you, you peaked around the corner. Not finding any threats, you tugged her forward with your laced fingers.

The two of you slipped back into the shadows of the hallway and down to the only way out of the building(that isn’t guarded).

Having snuck this way about a hundred times, you and Natalia got to the mess hall easily. And you also easily found the food you were looking for.

With the peanut butter thickly applied, you slapped the bread together, and ripped the sandwich in half. Then offering half to Natalia and biting into yours.

“Is it good?” Natalia asked quietly, voice and eyes dripping uncertainty.

You smiled at the girl,“ try it Natty, I promise you’ll like it.”

Trusting you with her life, and blushing at the nickname, Natalia bit into the sandwich.

She chewed as you watched her cautiously. And the most beautiful smile lit up her face.

She instantly loved how salty and sweet it was. It was nothing compared to the bland soup and bread they had always served.

“This tastes amazing Y/N/N.”

You nodded, finishing your half,“ I know. You promise to keep this our little secret?”

Again the girl blushed,“ I promise.”

*****End Flashback*****

You shake your head, clearing your mind of the memory and thinking how childish it is to feel nostalgic over a sandwich.

“There better be a half for me over there.”

Knife in hand you whip around quickly at the sultry voice.

“We both know you aren’t gonna use that.” Natalia says, pushing the point of the knife away as she grabs half of the sandwich.

Heart slowing to a fairly normal pace, you lower the knife.“ What’re you doing here Natalia?”

“You don’t sound too happy to see me” The slightest hint of disappointment hidden with a playful smirk.

Standing up straight, you quirk an eyebrow,“ answers Nat.”

“I need your help.” She comes clean.“ I’ll explain on the way.”

You don’t move, which she expects.

“Natalia do you know how unsafe it is to just follow me here? I know you know they could be watching.”

Natalia frowns and truly takes in her surroundings.

The cabin in the middle of nowhere. A chair and table set in front of the fireplace, not a single decoration in sight, and your bag by the door.

She knows now how scared you still are. Even though you saw the HYDRA base blow up, and she told you it was the last, you’re still afraid of them.

You haven’t settled in and it’s clear you don’t plan to.

She can’t say she blames you. After escaping the Red Room, thanks to you, she’d always looked over her shoulder. At times, even now, she still does.

Sighing, she steps closer. You freeze up entirely when she takes your hands in hers.

How is it that years and years later, she’s still the same. Her hands are still as soft as you remember.

“There’s no one watching you Y/N. I told you before, HYDRA is done. You. Are. Safe.”

Believing her is almost a natural instinct. With her eyes boring into yours with nothing but conviction you need to believe her.

“It-” she watches you look down at your hands in hers,“ it can’t be that easy.”

She squeezes your hands,“ it wasn’t easy, trust me. But it’s true.”

“Nat I-”

“Jesus Christ! I’m sorry but Steve turned the jet off and it’s freezing out there.”

You push Natalia against the wall beside the door, knife in hand, as the figure approaches.

“Y/N-”

Natalia doesn’t finish, not in time. You’ve already trapped the intruder’s hands behind his back and held the knife to his throat.

“Hey woah, what the hell is this?” He exclaims wiggling against your body to get free.

You here someone else coming in so you kick in the back of the first intruders knees and hold the knife toward the other.

A tall blonde man walks through the door with his eyes on the ground, a cold breeze blowing past him. His hands shoot up in surrender when he looks at the current situation.

There’s a frown deeply set on his brows.

“Natasha I thought you said she was a friend.” He says to the red head.

“She is.” Natalia snips, walking towards you and taking the hand you have wrapped around the other guys neck.“ Y/N it’s okay. They’re with me. They’re friends.”

Looking from the blue eyed blonde man, your eyes connect with Natalia’s green ones. And you let the guy go.

He drops to the floor. One hand rubbing his neck as he breathes raggedly and the other holding him up.

“You-you’re lucky,” he wheezes,“ I didn’t whoop ya ass.”

“Right.” You reply after an eye roll you say,“ sorry.”

Natalia raises an eyebrow at you. It’s not often, if ever, that you apologize to people. Especially a stranger.

The blonde steps further in, finally shutting the door and cutting off the cold.

“Y/N I’m assuming.” You nod.“ I’m Steve, that’s Sam. Natasha tells us you have a skill set that could help us.”

“I’d say I do but I’m unaware of the situation.” You say, shaking his outstretched hand.

He says he’ll explain on the way which causes you to glance at Natalia. Her eyes tell you how serious this is, so you nod.

After you scoop up your bag and shut the power off, your’rewalking on to the jet with the three. To find two others inside.

The man is tinted red, clad in a tight green suit, and stretched out on a cot. Beside him sits a brunette, hand caringly rested on his shoulder.

They’re both beaten up and stuck in their own world. You leave them that way.

Steve goes straight to the pilots seat and Sam is still eyeing you and quite frankly it’s starting to make you uneasy.

Natalia sits down and pulls you down beside her. Sam sits across from you, brown eyes narrowed.

“Are we going to have a problem?” You ask leaning forward.

Sam does the same,“ I don’t know, you’re the one that choked me.”

You scoff,“ you’re supposed to be a soldier and you’re upset over a minor choking?”

“Minor choking? Is choking really considered minor to you?”

“Seeing as I could’ve stabbed you, snapped your neck, or simply slit your throat? Yes, I think choking is minor.”

“News flash, it isn’t.” He snaps.

You roll your eyes, and sit back into the chair, arms crossed,“ did you die?”

“Wh-” he stops to fix a glare at the giggling blonde beside you.

“Stop glaring are her.” You glare at him.

This catches his attention even more than your altercation did.

He smirks and leans back,“ am I sensing a little something here? Like, I don’t know, you two were more than just friends.”

Natalia stops laughing instantly and begins bickering with Sam about minding his business.

But your mind is stuck on his words.

‘You two were more than just friends.’

It couldn’t be more true.

The red head was the love of your life. She still is.

From the second they brought Natalia in and assigned you to train her you knew you were screwed.

You had trained dozens of girls before but there was something about the red head that drew you in. Maybe it was her fascination with you that hid behind her scared confusion. Or the beauty in the smiles she allowed to slip when she was with you.

Whatever it was, it was strong enough to make you ignore/forget all the teaching, beatings, and brainwashing.

Having her in the Red Room made all those incredibly shitty days a million times better.

And even after you helped her get out from under their thumb, the memories of it all kept you from losing your sanity. Or at least all your sanity.

“Hey,” a warm hand on your knee pulls you from your thoughts,“ you okay?”

When you look into her eyes, you’re hit with just how much you felt towards her. How much you still feel.

You gently place your hand over hers,“ yeah, I am.”

“Good,” her eyes search yours,“ cause I should fill you in on what’s going on and why we need you.”

******

“Uhhhh what?” You chuckle in disbelief.

Sam mumbles ‘that’s what I said’ as Steve tells you he doesn’t know much else.

Apparently Steve, Sam, and Natalia has gone to get the two other passengers, who you now know to be Wanda and Vision, when they found them being attacked by “aliens”.

The story isn’t at all far fetched, but you’re curious as to how this should involve you.

“So, aliens,” you gauge everyone’s very serious expressions,“ showed up and attacked Vision and Wanda and threatened to come back. On top of that you got a distress call from your friend and you think the two are related.”

Everyone nods.

“Right, well, I’m just trying to understand where I come in with whatever is about to happen?”

Steve shuts the jet off and stands,“ the call from our friend was a lot more distressing than you think. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

With that he walks off the jet.

Frowning, you look to Natalia, who can only nod and gesture for you to follow her.

You take in your sorroundings as you walk. The large buildings, the expanse of trees, and what you assume to be a lake in the back.

You also notice all the people. Everyone dressed in uniforms moving around. It puts you on edge.

Anxiety already struck you on the jet with these people you didn’t know, sans Natalia, and now there are dozens more strangers around.

“Hey,” a familiar hand slips into yours,“ there’s no reason to get anxious.”

For the first time in years, you crack a smile. Nothing major, just a little smirk almost. But it incites a smile from Natalia as well.

“I’m gonna need you to stop reading me so well, it’s a slap in the face to my training.” You joke.

“The same training I had? It works. I just know you too well to fall for it.”

You wonder if it’s possible to die and come alive all at once.

Being reminded, once again, of how important Natalia truly is to you makes your heart pound. It coming from her makes all the difference though.

There was never a moment when you hadn’t thought of Natalia. That includes wondering if she thought of you as well. Maybe, just maybe, she had never stopped thinking of you either.

You’re pulled from those thoughts when Natalia’s hand leaves yours.

You watch as she hugs the darkskin man with metal leg braces.

The man eyes everyone, gaze lingering on you, before he say,“ you guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of years.”

Not having a clue what he’s referring to, you just watch the interaction. Eyes snapping to the new voice that joins

“Uh, I think you look great.” The shorter man wrings his fingers nervously,“ uh, heh, yeah. I'm back.

Silence.

“Hi, Bruce.”

You now look at Natalia, not able to read her expression as her back is to you. But her body language gives away the tension she feels.

The guy, Bruce, also tenses, eyes boring into Natalias’s,“ Nat.”

Behind you, Sam whispers,“ this is awkward.”

You frown at him, then at Natalia and Bruce,“ why is this awkward?”

All eyes fall to you.

No one says a word.

“I’m sure you guys could use a shower and some food, we’ll talk after.” The darkskin guy says, hoping to break the tension.

As everyone starts to break off, he looks at Steve then you.

“James Rhodes.” He introduces himself.

You shake his outstretched hand,“ Y/N.”

“She’s a friend of Natasha’s.” Steve explains.

Rhodes chuckles,“ didn’t know Nat had friends.”

“I take offense to that.” The blonde seemingly appears beside him, Bruce standing close behind her.

“Funny, I’m beginning to think Natasha has a lot of friends.” You remark, not even glancing at her.

Truthfully you don’t know where that quip came from. Well you do. It’s because you’re hurt.

Granted, it was unrealistic of you to think Natalia hadn’t been with anyone since you, but that didn’t stop the glimmer of hope you had that you had been her only one. Cause she’s yours.

Not once had you ever been with anyone else. You couldn’t. No one could compare to Natalia for you so it made no sense to attempt to be with someone.

But you now realize how stupid that had been.

“Would it be possible to use one of those showers you were talking about?” You ask Rhodes.

He nods, but Natasha speaks before he does.

“I’ll show you to one.” You notice her hand move toward you but she stops, instead nodding for you to follow.

“Uh Nat,” Bruce speaks,“ could we maybe talk later?”

Natasha nods to him, glancing at you first.

The silence sets over you two immediately. It lasts all the way through the halls and into a bedroom.

“Y/N I know you’re upset and I-”

“I’m not upset Natasha.”

And that gives you away faster than anything else could have.

The blonde stands up straight, hurt flashing in her eyes,“ what did you just call me?”

You sigh,“ Natasha. Because that’s who you are,or at least who you’ve become.”

Which is a fact you should’ve accepted before.

She isn’t your Natalia anymore. And it’s clear that she hasn’t been for years.

Holding on to the ideology that she hadn’t changed is why you’re so hurt. You saw how differently she moved and you know she took down HYDRA, or at least assisted. But that hadn’t necessarily meant she was completely different.

Still, you saw the way she interacted with everyone, how she spoke, and acted, and in the back of your mind you knew she had changed. But she held your hand and smiled at you the same way she used to.

Every thought you had made your head hurt and it confused you. So you stopped thinking about it.

“What’d you mean?” Green eyes shine with building tears.

“Don’t cry. Please.” You face her completely,“ you’ve changed- we both have. I should’ve known when I saw you on that rooftop.”

Natasha steps closer,“ some things have changed but I’m still me.”

“Do you really believe that? After all these years, everything you’ve been through, can you say you’re still Natalia?”

“Yes,” her hands squeeze yours,“ I’m the same person you used to sneak peanut butter sandwiches with, who you used to hold at night when the guards finally went away, the same person you kissed right before you snuck me on that train.”

She sighs at the hesitance in your eyes.

She isn’t in the least bit surprised at your reaction to all of this, but she never thought you’d doubt her.

“Admittedly I have been through a lot that has affected my character but I’m still me.”

There’s no time to reply as someone knocks at the door and Steve leans in.

His blue eyes flicker between you two and your hands.

“Sorry to interrupt but we need to talk.”

Natasha nods.

Steve disappears, leaving the two of you alone.

“I should uh, shower and suit up.” You finally say and it’s the last thing Natasha wants to hear from you.

The blonde woman needs to know that you believe her. That you still see her as your Natalia. But she doesn’t get that from you.

She just gets a lingering gaze and your retreating form.

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 15

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

The rain splattering against the window glass shook Hiccup out of his stupor. Lips still tingling where they had just so brushed against hers, he hurried through the apartment and onto the balcony where the wind was blowing enough rain under the roof that it hit most of his clothes. Resigned, he picked up the drying rack and maneuvered it into the living room. It wasn’t like any of the clothes had already dried, anyway. Besides, this had distracted him for at least two minutes from his brain’s attempt at understanding what had happened in the last hour.

A knot was forming in his stomach and it grew limbs, spreading into his chest, knocking against his ribs for attention. “Oh, bud. What a mess, huh.” Toothless looked up from his nap on the couch, blinking at Hiccup before laying his eyes on the newest accessory in the room. A few socks were still swinging slightly from earlier momentum and he swiped at them with his paw. Hiccup picked him up and flopped onto the couch himself, putting the cat down on his stomach where it immediately lay down and eyed him expectantly.

“This is not going to end well. We can’t pretend anymore that everything’s fine. And I can’t still wait for her to get more clarity and maybe eventually come around, can I?” Toothless started licking his paw. “Yeah, yeah. I know, bud.” He sighed. “No more waiting, no more guessing, no more holding out. She’s on her way home right now. She’ll want to save her marriage. And I can’t stand between her and a happy life now, right?” The cat didn’t answer, only the voice of a radio host crossed the distance between him and the kitchen. He ran his hand over the sleek black fur until the sound of purring provided the right background noise for his thoughts.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel and it doesn’t matter if she ever felt something for me-“, he allowed himself a moment of daydreaming, “because she has a husband, and yeah, they need to work through some issues, but if she wants to do that, then I want to support her decision. I don’t want to, but then again, I do. Toothless, does that make sense?” The cat’s ears perked up at the sound of its name. Hiccup looked his bud in the eyes, searching for an answer to his dilemma. “I guess, if you love somebody, you want them to be happy, even if it means you leave empty-handed and with a life’s worth of heartache.”

For a while, he watched the gray sky through the living room windows, stroking his cat’s back. The radio host was replaced by ads, then music, briefly interrupted by a traffic report. Some confused Toyota driver was going the wrong way. Or maybe they were going the right way, they just picked the wrong lane. Or the wrong way on the right lane. Did that make sense? What was the right way to go here? Was he doing the right thing? Was there even a right lane to pick?

He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The purring stopped. Soon enough, the weight on his stomach disappeared when Toothless decided he’d had enough of Hiccup’s drama. “You’re right, bud. Can’t keep doing this forever.” He lifted himself up with a heavy heart trying to pull him back down. But there was no use.

On his way out, he grabbed only his phone and an umbrella. The air had cooled significantly, raising goosebumps on his skin. Maybe he should have brought a jacket. He considered going back inside to get one, but the option of staying there and waiting for the world to fix itself was too tempting, so he turned around and started walking down the street. He had to end this.

_______________

She had to end this. The entire ride home, she drummed her fingers on the wheel, bounced her unoccupied leg up and down, shifted on her seat with restless energy at every traffic light, every intersection, every speed limit sign. She was both anxious and determined. There had never been a point in her life where she’d been more sure about anything. Least of all on her actual wedding day, as she could finally admit with a feeling of sweet relief.

When she turned her key in the door to the apartment, however, her hands felt like lead. While she’d come clean about her feelings to herself, she had yet to do it in front of someone else, someone who deserved to know it probably the most. Someone whose voice carried over from the living room.

Quietly closing the door behind her, she took off shoes and still damp jacket like she’d done for almost every day for the past year and a half. Her keys jingled and she closed her fist around them in order to smother the sound. Why she didn’t want him to know she was here was beyond her, but the second she decided on announcing her presence, someone else beat her to the chase.

Momentarily perplexed, she halted in her step towards the living room, trying to place the male voice chattering away, prompting a chuckle from Eret. Her curiosity whacked her anxiety over the head and she turned the corner to see who it was.

The man sitting next to Eret on the couch was unfamiliar to her. Tall, broad shoulders, muscles, casually-styled sandy hair. Crossed legs, one arm draped over the back of the couch, the other holding a beer, comfortable. He was the first to notice her, pausing mid-sentence to curiously raise his eyebrows in her direction. His eyes were the color of liquid chocolate, at least 70% cocoa. He was handsome, with a pleasant, welcoming smile. Eret followed his eyes and flinched.

Astrid raised a hand in greeting, uncertain about what to do. This other person in the apartment disrupted her plan. “Hi.”

“Hi, there.” The man waved back, looking at Eret expectantly, waiting for an introduction.

Eret cleared his throat, a nervous tilt in his smile. “Um, this is Astrid, my wife. Astrid… This is Timothy.” She racked her brain when that name rung a bell somewhere in the back of her mind, especially as he sent her a meaningful look. “My coworker. The one I told you about.”

“Oh,” she said. Then something clicked. “Oh.” The coworker he’d told her about. Repeatedly. The one she’d mistook for his mistress. Well, fuck, kill her now.

“Nice to meet you, hon.” When she frowned at that nickname, he was quick to put his hands up in an apologetic manner. “Sorry, that probably came out wrong. It’s just what I call everyone.” He slapped a hand on Eret’s knee. “Even this chap here.”

Eret copied the gesture. “And our boss.” The two men shared a laugh and Astrid’s eyes flitted back and forth between them, feeling like an outsider to a deeper inside joke. Their laughter subsided and they seemed to remember she was still in the room. “Do you… want to sit?” Eret asked hesitantly, conveying the same uneasiness she felt. She simply cut to the chase.

“We need to talk.”

Fortunately, Timothy understood his cue. “Well, hons,” he announced, drinking the rest of his beer and standing up from the couch, “I guess it’s time for me to hit the road. Gotta beat that Sunday traffic.” He laughed at his own joke when no one else did, not even his hon chap Eret, whose mood had suddenly turned serious.

They said goodbye to Timothy and when the door closed behind him, Eret discarded of the empty beer bottles and they sat in silence on separate ends of the couch for a few minutes. Astrid tried to sort through everything they needed to cover in this conversation, but she didn’t know where to begin, although it was all in a way connected. But what probably made her anxious the most was how to go on from there. She didn’t want to end this day with another fight, didn’t want to lose her closest friend in the aftermath of this whole mess. No more yelling and accusing, that’s what Hiccup had advised.

“So… Timothy, huh,” she made the first step, stilted lighthearted tone sounding absolutely misplaced to her ears.

But Eret gladly jumped onto the first wooden plank. In order to get to the other side of this chasm, they would have to build the bridge together. “Yeah. Tim is…”

“Your coworker,” she finished. “And not your mistress.” She didn’t avert her eyes as she said it, owning up to her mistake.

“Not my… No. But what I told you about Dana is true. She tried to seduce me. Several times, actually, even though I told her I’m married and not interested.” The old monster scratched at her abdomen, but she refused to pay attention to it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked instead, keeping her voice as level as possible, and received the same effort from Eret.

“I tried to, but you wouldn’t hear me out! Besides, I could handle her. It didn’t mean anything to me. And with the way you accused me of cheating, I was glad I hadn’t told you earlier.”

She felt the words like a punch to the gut. “Well, if you had told me earlier, then maybe I wouldn’t have gotten so suspicious when you kept talking about your coworker every other minute of the day like a teenager gushing about his crush!” He winced and averted his face. She’d somehow struck a nerve there, which made her guilt explode from where it was nesting inside her ribcage. Throwing her hands up in the air, she jumped up and released it all with one loud yell. “GAH, I’M SORRY!”

He still wouldn’t look at her. “Okay.”

“What do you mean – okay?!” She started pacing through the room. “I’m hurt you didn’t share the fact with me that someone came onto you several times – which is harassment, by the way – and then I rubbed it in by accusing you of committing to it! I’m fucking sorry, Eret!” She kicked at the couch and a flash of pain shot through her toes. Well, so much for no yelling.

“Yeah.” The couch table was still more interesting than her. “That’s why Tim was here. We were discussing how to report Dana without her claiming harassment and sexism herself.”

Astrid put her hands on her hips, taking stance. “Just say the word and I’m gonna knock her fucking skull in.”

He huffed. “I can handle it.”

“You can han– Eret, I’m not some bozo offering you tips on selling your car! I know I should have let you speak yesterday when you called and I’m sorry I didn’t. I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been running from confrontations for quite a while. And will you please just look at me?!”

Jaw clenched, he finally met her gaze, and for the second time that day, she was met with a look in someone’s eyes she wasn’t expecting. She’d prepared herself for fury, for a stubborn wall of fire, for a loaded canon – but not for hurt, guilt, insecurity. Her anger deflated.

“I know.” He was almost whispering. “I should know. I should know that I can always count on you.”

“You should know?” The implication wasn’t lost on her and it stung like a hundred bees. “Why do you think you can’t count on me?”

“I… I didn’t mean that. I know you’d do anything. It’s just that…” He got on his feet, pulling at his short ponytail, voice rising. “Every time you become distant, and we fight, and you go on your solo trips, it’s like there’s a whole world out there for you that I’m not a part of. Over time, that feeling festers, and it makes me wonder.” He paused, piercing her with a look that demanded only the truth. “There’s someone else, isn’t there.” She blinked, sucker-punched to the lungs, staring back at him, shock evident on her face, judging by his grave nod. “So there is.”

“I…” This was not how she’d imagined this topic to be broached. Her first instinct was to tell him that nothing happened, but as of this afternoon, that would be a lie. “It’s complicated.”

Eret shook his head disappointingly, a gesture that irked her a lot. “Accusing me of cheating and then…”

“I didn’t cheat on you!” He regarded her with poisonous doubt, frown deepening. No more running. “Yes, I have feelings for someone else! But it’s not like I planned so, and it’s not like I didn’t try to fight it, and I certainly didn’t do it on purpose!”

“But still you didn’t talk about it with your husband!”

“Like that’s something you do!” The guilt, the frustration, it all came together in a giant wave, pressing every emotion out of her chest with the volume of a tsunami. “Like you just go to your spouse, the one you promised to love until death, the one you made a fucking huge commitment to for the rest of your life, you just go up to them and say hey, guess what, I’m in love with someone else, what do you think of that, do you want potatoes or rice for dinner?!” She sucked air into her lungs with a sharp, shaky breath, not slowing down, even as her eyes began to sting. “This is not something you do, it’s not something you fucking do, just like that, expecting not to make everything worse, and admitting that the biggest decision I ever made in my entire life led to a big! Fucking! Failure!”

A hot tear ran down her cheek and when she wiped it away, more followed, until she was quietly sobbing, shoulders shaking as she refused to break down completely. She felt raw and exposed, exhausted after her emotional outburst. Eret said nothing for a long minute. Then he sunk back onto the couch and put his head in his hands, fingers raking through his dark hair, messing it up until most of it had escaped the ponytail.

“I need a drink,” she mumbled and walked into the kitchen. Eyeing the bottle of wine on the shelf, she opted for some peppermint tea. Calming, refreshing, and didn’t have to cool in the fridge first. Waiting for the kettle to boil, she took a deep breath. Slowly, the shaking subsided and the tears stopped running. She wiped her hand over her swollen eyes and blew her nose on a paper towel.

When the water boiled, she grabbed her favorite mug from the cupboard and fished the last tea bag from the box. She let it steep for a few minutes, regaining her composure, before she returned to the living room. Leaning against the bookcase opposite to the couch, mindful of the stack of beautifully illustrated books behind her, she carefully took a sip, relishing the feeling of hot tea calming her nerves. Eret was still hunched over, head in his hands.

“I was gushing about my crush,” he finally said, voice low and brittle, laden with the effort of finding the courage to get the words out.

She sniffed, unsure if she’d heard him right. “What?”

“I… have feelings for someone else, too.”

It took her embarrassingly long to connect the dots. “Huh.” She sat down next to him, processing the information. In a strange way, it made sense. She couldn’t explain it, but it just felt… It felt like Eret. And it also explained all the knee touching from earlier. “Oh man,” she sighed. “We’re a mess, huh.”

He tentatively glanced up at her. She noticed the little pools of tears that had formed in his eyes and she realized he’d been as afraid to tell her about his feelings as she’d been, probably even more so. Eret had always been so sure about himself and his place in the world, something that had attracted her to him in the first place. Discovering this new side of himself, the confusion, the fear of people’s reaction, her reaction – she couldn’t exactly say she could relate. Meeting his worried expression, she gave him a reassuring smile and reached for his hand. His sigh of relief cut straight through her heart, and when he accepted her hand and returned her light squeeze, it felt like companionship.

“So… Timothy, huh,” she repeated her earlier line, eliciting a small shaky laugh from Eret. He sat up and leaned back against the cushions, wiping a hand over his face.

“Yeah… He’s great.” He turned to her with an earnest face. “I’m sorry. You’re right, this is a mess.”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something for once.”

For a while, they just sat there holding hands in companiable silence, feeling closer than they had in a very long time, the only sound an occasional slurping of tea.

“I know I should have asked this sooner,” she finally said, “but do you want to talk about it?”

He seemed to be wrestling with himself for a moment and she tried her best to not feel offended by his hesitation. She wasn’t any better, after all. “I don’t really know what to say. One day I’m a heterosexual fella going to bed with his wife, the next I’m thinking about all the different ways I wanted to touch my new coworker. The rest just spiraled from there.”

“When did that happen?”

“About a year ago,” he confessed, carefully regarding her reaction.

“Okay, so, do you know if Timothy’s into men?”

“Uh yes, very openly so, he carries his cute little rainbow flag everywhere and constantly complains to me about the horrible guys he’s dated.”

“Good, that’s good.” He curiously raised his eyebrows at the scheming look on her face. “Have you talked to him about your sexuality?”

“No, I haven’t told anyone, and how are you so okay with this?”

Now she really did feel offended, putting the empty mug on the couch table with a clank. “Excuse me? My best friend tells me he likes dicks and he asks me if I’m okay with it?!”

“Your best friend is also your husband. And that’s not what I meant. You’re weirdly calm about the fact that I’ve been emotionally cheating on you for months on end.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, did you not hear me yelling about my feelings for another man back there? You know, right before I burst into tears? We’re in the same boat here, buddy.”

He snorted. “I don’t know if I like this sarcasm on you.”

“It may have rubbed off on me from someone else,” she admitted.

“Right. Your someone else.”

“Hmm…” She bit her lip. “I really am sorry. I thought about telling you, but I never did, because I had this stupid notion in my head that telling you would mean I failed at something. Namely, making the right decision when I married you.”

“That… No, that makes sense. Sounds like Astrid to me.”

“But was I right?” she asked uncertainly. “Does this mean I failed?”

“Well… You said earlier – or better, you yelled – that your decision led to big failure. Do you really think that’s what this is? A big, fucking, failed marriage?”

Now that she heard him say it, she didn’t need to contemplate much. “Yes and no? I don’t regret marrying you. I love you, but not the way I used to. You’re my closest friend and incredibly important to me, and I will always treasure our time together, past and present. But… That is all I can give you.”

An enormous weight disappeared from her chest when she said it out loud and when Eret nodded and agreed, “I feel the same… I think.” He scratched his head. “No, I’m sure that’s what it is. And I’m also one hundred percent sure I was very into you, which makes me at least bisexual, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Sexuality can be fluid, right? So who knows what nuance of sexuality you are and what you’ll be next week. Anyway, I wouldn’t be mad at you if you decided you’ve always been gay. Would it feel weird to hear you tell me you never actually loved me? Probably. Would I get hung up on it, knowing you cared about me deeply in a platonic way? Fucking hell not.”

Eret grinned in a relieved and almost proud way. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Hofferson.”

“Me too.” She took a deep breath. “So, does that mean…”

“That this is over?” he completed her sentence and gestured between them, an understanding passing between them. “Yes, I would say so.”

Relief washed over her, combined with a bit of sadness, then peace, and not one flicker of doubt. She leaned into her best friend, her soon-to-be ex-husband, and hugged him tightly for a long minute.

When they pulled away, the shadows in the room had grown longer, announcing the imminent departure of the sun. Soon the horizon would light up colorfully, ending the day with a temporary, ever-changing painting that put every self-respecting lava lamp to shame. Realizing how late it already was, Astrid couldn’t believe how much time had passed since she’d had lunch with Hiccup, and how long she’d talked with Eret.

“Full disclosure, though,” she said while getting up to switch on the light, “last week I took a pregnancy test and it was negative.” Eret blinked a couple times. “Turns out it had just been a mixture of too much emotional stress and chocolate cake that made me take it.”

“Chocolate cake,” he repeated a bit dumbfounded, following her as she carried her empty cup into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I tried to bake the perfect cake and the one I ate was way too sweet.”

“The one you– Did you eat an entire chocolate cake by yourself? While your favorite pool was closed?”

“Oh, I’m glad that’s the part you choose to focus on.”

He sat down at the kitchen table and absentmindedly mimed stroking an invisible beard, a habit he’d picked up when he’d grown an absolutely hideous goatee in college. “I don’t know, I’m still processing it. Were you… sad? Okay? I don’t know what to say here.”

“I was glad. You know I want kids one day, but not like this.”

He nodded. “Probably best. Not that I wouldn’t have been happy regardless – wait, was it even mine?”

“The baby that doesn’t exist?” she scowled at him. “Yes, of course it would have been yours, you muttonhead!”

Holding his hands up in surrender, he believed her. “Alright, alright. I don’t know, could have been your secret lover.” Her scowl deepened and he quickly continued. “But you’re right. It’s better this way.”

“Good, glad we agree. Now will you please stop with the non-existent beard? You look ridiculous.”

“Tim thinks it’s funny.”

That brought the scheming look back on her face. “Seems to me like he’s interested in you. Now that you’re single, you should ask him out.”

A nervous chuckle escaped him and he squirmed a little in his seat. “I don’t know. I just agreed on a divorce.”

“That’s not the problem. You’ve wanted to do it for a long time. You’re a chicken.”

“I’m just being considerate of you–“

“Bullshit. You’re a chicken.”

With a groan, he frowned at her. “You’re quite a handful sometimes, do you know that?”

“Chicken,” she sang, finding joy in pushing his buttons without another fight looming on the horizon. She’d missed her friend and she finally had him back.

“Okay, fine! I haven’t had to ask anyone out since you. I don’t know how to flirt anymore.”

She snorted. “Seriously?” Sitting down next to him, she draped one hand behind him over the chair, shuffled closer and placed the other on his knee, regarding him from beneath her eyelashes. “Are you sure about that, hon?” He jokingly pushed her away, tipping her chair a little. “I think you were doing just fine earlier. Just text him that you want to go out for beer and tell him what happened. Then you can pepper in that you want his dick and voilà, you got yourself a hot date.”

“Yeah, yeah. I think I’m just gonna start with the beer.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and began to type before he paused and looked at her in earnest. “I feel good about this. How about you?”

Something told her he wasn’t just talking about asking out his crush. “Yes, absolutely. This feels right.”

With a content nod, he continued typing and hesitated just a second before sending his message. “Phew, done.” Another thought seemed to come to his mind. “Err, by the way, you’re not my dictator.”

“Huh?”

“Yesterday on the phone, I called you a dictator. That’s not true.”

“Yeah, we both said pretty mean things in the past. Things we didn’t actually mean and are sorry for.” Hiccup would be proud of her. She’d stopped running from an important confrontation, she’d talked about her feelings, she’d let Eret speak without accusing him of stuff, and she’d only yelled a little. It felt good. She wanted to tell him. Where was her phone?

“Apology accepted and returned. Great, now that we settled that, you still haven’t told me about the other guy.” He cracked his knuckles, receiving an unimpressed look. “I want to know who will pay part of the divorce.”

She punched his biceps. “He’s not going to pay shit, you cocky bastard.”

Rubbing the now sore spot on his arm, he shrugged and earned himself an eyeroll. “Worth a try.”

Seemed like calling Hiccup had to wait a little. But after waiting for so long to tell him about her feelings for him, what were a few minutes more? It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.

“Okay… Um. Do you remember Dagur’s 30th birthday party?” she started.

Eret chuckled. “Eh, partially. It was a wild night.”

“But do you remember Hiccup?”

He searched his memory for a second. “Heather’s ex? The skinny guy with the jawline?”

“Yes. He was at the party.” Now came the part that was hard to tell the guy that she’d been engaged to back then. “I will not call it fate or destiny or anything at first sight. But… Do you remember when you claimed you could repair the oven by yourself and were almost electrocuted?”

Not sure where this was going, and with the remnants of a hurt ego in his posture, Eret nodded. “Yeah?”

“Well, meeting Hiccup was like that, but without the pain. I felt like I was the current. And the funniest thing is, the moment I saw him, the lightning storm started outside.”

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled. “I remember there being rain.”

Encouraged by his lack of judgement so far, she continued. “I didn’t understand my sudden attraction to him at first, I just knew that it was strong and it only grew stronger over time, even though I only met him a couple times after that. That one time when we were out doing wedding chores, remember?”

After a minute of contemplation, he nodded. “When you bought that book that he painted pictures for and were super excited about it.”

She rolled her eyes. “He didn’t paint pictures for it, he illustrated the cover. And it was absolutely gorgeous!”

“So, he did paint pictures for it.”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”

He shrugged, not understanding what the big deal was. But he waved at her to continue.

“I thought it was just a phase and I didn’t want to bother you with it and dampen your mood. You were so happy and looking forward to our wedding and I didn’t want to ruin that by telling you something that would have been over just a few weeks later, anyway. Only that it wasn’t a phase. And the longer I waited, the worse it got.” Her fingers found a lose thread on the tablecloth and she absentmindedly started playing with it. “I was in denial about it. That was the only way for me to keep my sanity the closer we came to our wedding day. In the end, I decided to go through with the wedding because I didn’t want to just throw away everything we built together.”

“Did…” He gulped. “Did anything ever happen between you back then?”

She shook her head. “No. He came to the party, though. We talked outside for a while and I invited him in, as a friend. But he said we shouldn’t see each other anymore. Looking back, that was probably for the best, no matter how much it hurt, because the moment I saw him again a week ago, it all came back in an instant. Not that it was ever truly gone.”

A spark of understanding flashed up in Eret’s eyes. “Is that why you acted so weird from time to time? Distant, I mean?”

“Yeah, that was part of the reason. I just… I felt like something was missing from my life. That’s why I went on my solo trips. To try and find myself, I guess. It helped in the moment, but not in the long run.”

He looked bashful. “And I thought you were going on vacations with your lover.”

Astrid discovered that being on the other side of such an accusation didn’t hurt any differently than making the accusation herself. “I would never do that! I may have kept important feelings from you, but I would never cheat!”

“Me neither.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

She crossed her arms. “Yes! I only accused you of it because I wanted a reason to escape a relationship that didn’t make me happy anymore. I know I should have just talked to you earlier. We already settled that.”

“Okay.” He nudged her with his foot. “Go on.”

“Like I said, I ran into him last week. I thought I could just be friends with him and push my feelings away, but no.” A little nervous, she left the tablecloth be and twirled strands of hair between her fingers. “I was with him when you called. He showed me his favorite spot in the woods. And… Well, he advised me to talk to you about everything. But I hadn’t even admitted my feelings to myself, so anything beyond that seemed impossible. I lashed out at him as well.” The memory of their fight was still fresh on her mind. It had only happened a day ago, but it felt like weeks had passed since then.

“So, he doesn’t know how you feel.”

“Well… He might have an idea. He certainly knows there’s something between us; he addressed it during our fight yesterday. And… I kind of kissed him today. I didn’t plan on doing it, I just… did it. It wasn’t even a real kiss, our lips barely touched, but– I think it was obvious enough.” At this point, she had pulled out a considerable amount of hair with her fingers, tangling it into a ball. “Then I decided I could no longer go on like that and came here.” Eret was quiet for a while. “What do you say?”

“I say we should have talked way sooner. Would have saved us both a lot of pain. Did you talk to anyone else about this?”

“My mom, but that was still before the wedding. She definitely suspects something now as well, though. And I thought about telling Ruffnut, but she’d have just found a way to include your looks into her arguments and based her opinion on that.”

He chuckled. “Good call. That woman needs to get laid more.” She kicked his shin. “Ow! What was that for?”

“She doesn’t need to get laid like some horny rabbit! She’s just very shallow regarding looks sometimes.”

“Okay, sorry,” he apologized, rubbing his shin. That should be a nice bruise tomorrow. Good. “Does he like you?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “I think so.” A sudden memory flashed through her mind. “I think he even told me once! I ran into him shortly after he and Heather broke up and he said he liked someone else. He said he couldn’t ask her out because she was engaged. Looking back, what are the chances he wasn’t talking about me?” The more she pondered it, the more obvious it seemed. Excited butterflies were dancing through her stomach. No, really, was she remembering this right?

The short sound of a speeding race car came from Eret’s phone, three times in a row, and the little notification light lit up. Eret fumbled for the device. From the look on his face, she could guess who texted him back.

“And?” she asked impatiently.

“He’s in for a beer. Tomorrow after work.”

“Yes!” She held her hand up for a high-five, but Eret was too busy texting Timothy back.

“Now you,” he said when he put his phone down. “I can’t be the only one going on a date right after breaking up with my spouse.”

“Right.” Her heart started pounding as she got up to retrieve her phone from her jacket and leaned against the kitchen counter. She was going to do this. Now.

She had three missed calls. One from her mom, which she ignored. Because the other two were from Hiccup. Understandably, after she basically bolted from his kitchen earlier. There was a voicemail attached. With jet planes flying through her stomach, she pressed her phone to her ear, heart kicking harder against her ribs when she heard his voice.

As she listened to his message, one plane after the other crashed from the sky in a fiery explosion.

Eret looked at her in concern. “Everything alright?”

Her pulse was deafening in her ears, blood rushing through her veins, trying to make her heart beat again. “Fuck.”

[adiwriting]

Sunday Mornings 5/?

Notes: This one is slightly more angsty than most as it’s a hurt/comfort ficlet dealing with Alex post a PTSD episode. But I felt it was still appropriate to include because who doesn’t need to see Michael being the soft, careful, loving boyfriend we all know he’s capable of being? And who doesn’t want to see Alex get loved on? 

Week 5: 

This is really not how Alex planned on spending their Sunday. In fact, Michael had specifically mounted a new television in their bedroom so that they could marathon Netflix from bed all day. They’d planned on grilling steaks for dinner and then were going to take a drive out to the desert to watch the stars like they used to when they were kids. 

In absolutely zero versions of his plans did he expect to be sitting on the couch numb and trying to come down from an episode as Michael switched back and forth from doting boyfriend wanting to make sure Alex was okay, and cleaning up the mess that has become the living room. 

See, approximately two hours ago, they’d been startled by a very large crash that had triggered a PTSD episode. Turns out, there was a leak in the roof and after the last few days of heavy rain, the water had eventually caused part of the ceiling to cave in. Which was all good and fine, nothing to panic over, truly. Except, for a moment Alex hadn’t been 30 years old and lying in bed with his boyfriend in his own home… Instead he’d been 17 and it hadn’t been a crash he’d heard, so much as the slamming of a door hitting the wall as it was thrown open. And that moment had been enough to cause Alex to be trapped in his brain for the next hour and a half. 

Michael had understood in a way nobody else could. When the crash first went off, Alex has a foggy recollection of Michael jumping out of bed instantly and using his powers to throw the dresser against the door. After that, Alex had dissociated. Everything was blank and the only reason he knows that he had a panic attack is the way his body now aches in a specific kind of exhaustion that only comes after being in full blown panic mode for an extended period of time. 

It’s funny, everyone is always careful around Alex with things like guns and fireworks. They always assume they understand what his PTSD triggers will be and relate it back to his time in the military. His triggers are both more complicated and simpler than that. They’re raised voices. Hands on his neck without warning. A hammer hitting a nail. And, apparently, the sound of the ceiling falling in. 

He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He knows he needs to stand up and help Michael. The living room is filled with water and bits of plaster. There’s probably not any saving his keyboard, though Michael assures him that he can fix anything. The guitars had thankfully stayed dry despite their cases being soaked. There’s a crack in the coffee table and… 

Honestly, Alex can’t bring himself to care. The entire thing, all of this, feels so far away despite the fact that it’s happening right in front of him. 

He curls up on the sofa, lays his head down, and stares blankly ahead. 

“Why don’t you go back to bed,” Michael says, kneeling right in front of him. “I can get this all sorted out.” 

Alex just shrugs. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say what he should — that he doesn’t want to be alone right now. That he just needs Michael to hold him for a while longer. It’s stupid. Michael is doing what he needs to be doing. He’s trying to stop the water from continuing to come into the house and do even more damage. If Alex was more aware, he would care. When Alex comes back to himself, he will care. And he’ll be appreciative that at least one of them was cognizant enough to act. 

But right now, Alex is alone and scared and just needs to feel like he’s loved by a single person in his life. 

Michael reaches out to place a hand to Alex’s cheek, careful not to get close to his neck. “I’m going to get the water to stop, the rest of this will keep until later, okay?” 

Alex nods. 

“I love you,” Michael tells him firmly. It’s exactly what he needs to hear, but the words get lost in a fog before they reach his aching heart. He simply nods again, knowing he’s supposed to be saying it back, but unable to find the words. 

Michael stares at him for another minute or two. Alex tries to call up the energy to say something, but he just can’t. Michael leans over and kisses his forehead before standing up and getting back to work. 

Michael could have been working for hours. Alex doesn’t really know. Time passes and Alex feels all of it and none of it. Each second feels like a stab in the heart and each breath in takes a conscious effort on his part. But then, the sun begins to peek through the clouds and Alex could have sworn that Michael said it wasn’t going to stop raining until the afternoon. Regardless, time passes and eventually Michael is in front of him, pulling on his hands until he stands up and Michael leads him back to bed. 

****

They are watching Netflix and Alex is settled in between Michael’s legs, laying back against his chest. Michael’s arms are around him, hugging him from behind while his chin rests on his shoulder. Every so often, Michael kisses his neck and whispers loving words into Alex’s ear. It’s exactly what he needed and he loves Michael that much more for knowing that without Alex having to ask. 

“I’m sorry I ruined our plans,” Alex whispers. It’s the first thing he’s said since the whole ceiling incident. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Michael assures him, nose nuzzling into his hair. Alex can feel Michael trying to get him to look at him, but he can’t, not yet. He’s still too embarrassed over the entire thing. Both for the panic attack, and for how clingy he’s been since. 

“We were supposed to go out and see the stars,” he argues. 

Michael grabs his chin and gently guides him until he’s looking out the window. A flash of lightning lights up the entire room. Has it been raining long? he wonders.

“You were saying?” Michael says. It’s soft, he’s still being careful with Alex, but Alex knows if he were to look at Michael right now, he would be wearing that smartass smirk of his.  

“I don’t want to be like this,” he admits. 

Faster than Alex can process, Michael moves and is sitting in front of him, staring him down. The energy in the air is crackling and Alex should probably be scared, but it’s Michael, so he’s not. 

He cradles his face with his hands and says very firmly, “You are not broken, Alex.” 

“But I—” he starts to argue but Michael cuts him off. 

“We all have shit. I wasn’t exactly chill when it happened either. There is nothing wrong with you.” 

Alex wants to believe him, but it’s hard. He can still remember the ways in which his dad used to taunt him for having panic attacks when he was younger. Alex knows that it’s not his fault that his dad used to beat him and now he has PTSD from it. He knows that. But knowing something is logically true and really feeling it are two very different things. 

“Listen, I can promise you that there is going to be a day where I lose my shit completely and you have to be the calm one taking care of my ass. And when that day happens, you’ll cuddle me, remind me that I’m loved, and do whatever else I need and never once judge me just as I don’t judge you,” Michael says with complete certainty. “We all deal with things in our own way. You and I had a shitty childhood, so of course we were triggered by a loud noise. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I just want to be past it,” Alex whispers, leaning his forehead against Michael’s. He closes his eyes and draws on Michael’s strength, it helps. 

“You are,” he whispers back. “You became so much better than the man he tried to raise. You’re strong and fierce and yet still open and vulnerable and loving. So fucking loving.” 

Alex takes a shuddering breath and allows Michael’s words to sink in. It’s easy for Alex to hear his dad’s voice in his head during his weakest moments… But even back when they were 17, Michael’s kind words always found a way to drown out his self-doubts. He takes several more calming breaths before he reaches out to wrap his arms around Michael’s shoulders. 

He opens his eyes again, starting to feel more like himself again. Michael smiles at him and gives the deepest sigh before saying, “You’re so fucking beautiful, I just can’t.”

Alex blushes at that. Michael’s hands are at his hips and his thumbs have snuck under his t-shirt to rub soft circles against his bare skin. 

“So what you’re saying is that you’re only with me for my looks?” he teases, tentatively, trying it out. 

Michael barks out a surprised laugh, moving until he’s straddling Alex. 

“Absolutely,” Michael says with one of his trademark cocky smiles. He runs his hands through Alex’s hair, settling at the back of his neck. 

Alex tilts his head up to kiss Michael. It’s a slow kiss. Neither of them push for more, but neither of them rush to pull away either. When they do finally come up for air, Alex realizes that he’s still pretty tired from the day’s events, but he feels back to normal at least. 

“Thank you for dealing with the ceiling,” he says, running his hands up and down Michael’s back, giving his boyfriend goosebumps. 

“It’s not dealt with yet,” he explains. “I fixed it enough that the living room wasn’t going to keep flooding, but tomorrow, I’m going to have to get up there and patch the roof properly.” 

“I can call somebody for that,” he tells him, wanting to make sure he doesn’t feel obligated. Tomorrow is Michael’s only other day off.

“Like hell you will.” Michael looks offended. “You think I want you calling Mrs. Ramsey’s son? I don’t need you mooning over some overjacked construction guy. I saw the way you used to look at him back in high school. No thanks. He does shitty work. Nobody is touching that roof but me.” 

“I did not used to moon over Conner,” Alex argues. 

Michael snorts at that and Alex rolls his eyes. 

Okay, perhaps he’d had a mild crush on Conner back in freshman year. Who hadn’t? Conner had been a senior and the star quarterback and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. But it wasn’t like Alex had ever even talked to the guy. 

“You just want me to moon over you,” Alex counters. 

Michael has been consistently spending his days off finding various projects around Alex’s house. First it had been fixing the fan in the bedroom. Next, he’d worked on the plumbing to make sure that the bathroom sink could get cold water. Currently, he’s been slowly replacing the bad floorboards around the house. Alex hasn’t complained. He loves coming home from work and seeing Michael deep in whatever project he’s working on… And Michael caught on after the third time Alex had practically jumped him. 

“Obviously,” Michael says, leaning in to give Alex another kiss before climbing off his lap and settling back against the headboard. 

“Are you going to wear an orange vest and one of those tight little shirts?” Alex asks, snuggling into Michael’s side as he picks up the remote and resumes playing the show they’ve been watching. 

“I’ll wear whatever you want me to, Babe,” Michael says, wrapping his arm around Alex and placing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Alex is suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of love and safety and forever. 

“I love you.” 

“Yeah, you’d better,” Michael says with a laugh. “It’s gonna be hot as balls up on that roof.” 

Alex sits up and shakes his head. He’s serious. Michael’s amused smile fades into a soft one that Alex knows he reserves just for him. “I love you too.” 

Alex settles back into his arms and they watch the show until it reaches the opening credits. Alex is about to reach for the remote to skip past them when he hears Michael whisper a soft, “You scared me today.” 

Alex closes his eyes in shame. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad,” Michael says. “I just… I’m saying it wasn’t easy for me to watch you like that. I’m glad I was here and could help, but… it was still scary.” 

Alex takes a deep breath. Yeah. He’s sure it was. “I’ll talk to my doctor about adjusting my meds.”

Michael doesn’t say anything in response, but if the way he squeezes Alex’s arm is any indication, it’s the answer he’d needed to hear. 

The credits end and they both focus their attention back on the show. 

Tagged: @callieramics​​

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