#Yet he can't think that maybe splitting himself in half was a bad idea

[inexpressiblybeautiful]

My hot take is that Gemma deserves someone better while Mark Scout 100% deserves Helena Eagan.

[the-whumpening]

The Backstory Arc, Part 3

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More context crumbs: A couple weeks after Part 2, the party is gearing up for their next mission. They've secured passage on a ship to head across the map to the far north, where they intend to search for Krumgus' missing parents. Ash and Uma have parted ways, and Evius has entrusted his parents with his son. (I hope Evius doesn't seem like a tool; he's just had to make a lot of tough decisions, and some of that nuance is lost once the story is written down.)

CW: violence (i'd call it mild), mind control magic, blood

As they board the ship, Evius removes his disguise ring, and something catches Ash’s eye. He stops Evius in his tracks, gingerly lifting his arm by the wrist to inspect the new black lines on his skin.

"Do you . . . do you have stripes now, Evvy?" A tiny flicker of panic pops in his brain. "Mine aren’t contagious, are they? I knew I should've covered my sneeze like Kane said . . . "

Evius tenses for a moment at the unexpected touch, chuckling as he relaxes once more. "It's nothing like that, darling. It's a magic tattoo I purchased when we first got into town. They're a bit rare, so it took some time to get made. It's supposed to help protect me from harm a little." He pulls the front of his shirt down just enough to reveal the image of an eye over his heart, from which erupted a web of black lines.

"So it's like . . . magic armor? How do you know if it works? Have you tried it out yet?" As he inspects the eye on Evius' chest, he’s split between curiosity about new, fancy magic and concern for Evvy's safety—and, perhaps, a twinge of yearning at Evius’ exposed skin.

Knitting his brows together, Evius crosses his arms in thought. "You know, that's a very good point, Ash.” He smirks, bumping Ash up the deck with his hip. “My, you're sure coming into those smarts. I hadn’t actually given that much thought yet. I'd hate to hop into a life or death situation without knowing it works. Maybe . . . ” His pointy grin grows into a conspiratorial gleam. “You could help me find out?"

A streak of feral energy ripples through Ash; it’s been so long since he’s had a chance to roughhouse with anyone. And, being in the city, he and Evius haven’t even had a play-hunt in months. "Does that mean we can spar?" His fangs glimmer with saliva at the thought of a good fight. However, he blinks away some of the crazy and composes himself. "There would have to be ground rules, of course. I don't want you getting hurt . . . or to have an unfair advantage." He pouts, knowing Evius' magic is immensely stronger than his own meager spells.

"Oh, don't worry—I'm rather limited here on the ship,” Evius assures him, though Ash remains doubtful. “I can't use anything seriously destructive. No Eldritch Blasts or Firebolts. Tell you what, I'll even hold off on Rays of Frost out of an abundance of caution. However, all my other spells are on the table, deal?" As he lays out his offer, he coils his tail around Ash and winks.

Ash thinks for a second, ignoring the goosebumps rising up his spine. "No flying, either,” he sulks. “It's not fair if you're not on the ground. Same rules as always?”

Evius kicks off his shoes and drops his bag before taking off towards the rear of the ship, tearing his shirt over his head and yelling back towards the half-tiger, "You're on, big man!"

Ash carefully unclasps his cloak and sets it down with the rest of his stuff before rushing after Evius. But, seeing Evius’ slender frame chase away from him, his gut twists anxiously. Is this a bad idea?

At the back of the ship, the two clear some space among barrels and crates of supplies. An awkward energy hangs in the air. Ash doesn't want to be the one to strike first—how could he? This is Evius, after all. As much as he's dying to fight, he and Evius have never had a genuine sparring match like this; he’s always held back. He knows Evius is strong and capable, but . . . he can’t imagine hurting someone he cares about like that.

"It's a lot like dancing, isn't it?" Evius offers with a wry smile upon seeing Ash’s hesitance. He produces a dagger from his hip, juggles it with a flourish, and throws it at Ash.

The knife zips through the air and slices Ash's shoulder before sticking into a crate behind him.

"I'm always the one to lead."

"Shit!" Ash double-takes between the blood dribbling from the slice in his arm and Evius' smirk. "Okay, I guess it's my turn then," he chuckles, a small flush of embarrassment coloring his face.

He rushes toward Evius, aiming to just get one not-too-painful hit in. His fist whiffs past Evius on his first attempt, confused as Evius nimbly swerves out of the way. But as they circle, he tries again—success!

His shoulder collides with Evius' torso, briefly lifting him off the ground. The tiefling slithers out of his grip though, leaving the two still facing off, equally matched.

"You're quicker than I remember," Ash huffs, a little out of breath.

Evius coughs, winded a little from the collision, but otherwise fine. "That all you got, kitty cat? I've taken worse hits from Nalia. Or is it that you can't bring yourself to hurt me?" He taunts, lacing his words with Vicious Mockery.

He lunges forward to slice at Ash with his second dagger, but he is thrown off by Ash's befuddled expression and loses his balance—missing his target and falling prone.

Ash offers a hand to him, pulling him easily to his feet.

"Of course I don't want to hurt you, dummy!" He takes a step back, his brow crinkling in confusion from the spell. He can feel the surge of his rage just starting to bubble up, but he tamps it down for now. Gotta stay cool. Can't get too out of control.

Planting his feet, he gestures for Evius to try again to hit him. It's only fair to let him try again.

"Come on. I can do this all day!"

After dusting himself off and recovering from his embarrassment, Evius chuckles and flicks him on the nose. "You're awfully cute when you're being chivalrous, but don't forget the point of this exercise."

He backflips away from Ash and, as he lands in a nimble crouch, his eyes flash with indigo light. "Come at me with all you've got."

The suggestion crawls through Ash's mind, latching on firmly. Initially, he's a bit confused: With all I've got? What does that mean? But, almost against his will, his muscles flex and bulge, readying for an attack.

"All I've got, Evvy?"

Ash charges, swiping Evius in the ribs with the staff of his spear. He snarls in Evius' face, leaning in nose-to-nose. He's quickly losing his composure, and he can feel the rage almost surfacing.

Evius stumbles back and grunts with the impact of the spear. Through the haze of his foggy mind, Ash can see the panic beginning to rise in Evius. Still, he can’t press the energy down any further—sooner rather than later, it’s going to spill over.

Shouting another spell in Infernal, Evius spins away from Ash, and a silvery mist surrounds him. When the mist dissipates, he is no longer in front of Ash, but up in the rigging, leaning against the wooden mast with his arms folded.

"Hey!” Ash snarls. “I said no flying!" A trail of lightning wraps around Evius' waist, yanking him down to the deck, coming to a stop arms’ length from Ash.

At that, the kettle boils over, and Ash begins to rage. It's not a purely anger-driven rage, but an explosion of emotions he's been stuffing away for who knows how long—anger, fear, frustration, desperation—

"You want all I've got? I'll show you all I've got!" he roars.

Pulled from his perch, Evius is startled but quickly regains his composure. He lands cat-like on the deck and responds, "That wasn't flying, my sweet boy. That was teleporting. Technically within the rules, but I should think you are beyond semantics at the moment."

With a roar, Ash snatches Evius off the ground, a firm grip holding his legs while his chest dangles on Ash's back. Spying a nearby crate, Ash reels back and slams Evius onto it.

Looming over him, the sound of his own pulse thumps in Ash’s ears, but the smell of blood and sweat scintillates his feral brain.

Using Ash’s momentum against him, Evius kicks out and shoves Ash away. He leaps to his feet, crouching with his dagger brandished before him.

Ash deftly recovers, tumbling backwards and landing in a similar prowling lunge.

He pounces forward, his hulking frame smashing into Evius. With one hand, he slams the hand holding the dagger into the deck, forcing him to drop the knife. With the other, he engulfs Evius' throat.

Completely out of control now, he squeezes the sides of his throat, his claws starting to dig in. Whatever reservations he once had about hurting Evius, he can’t remember them now.

Evius grips Ash's wrist with his free hand and croaks out through gritted teeth, "That's really all you've got?"

A growl ripples through Ash's body and slithers out of his gnashed teeth. He presses harder, his claws now firmly sinking into the tender copper skin of Evius' neck.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he hisses.

Beneath him, Evius’ lips grow pale. His sputtering breaths come more and more frantically, until Ash can barely hear them at all. His eyelids flutter over his now-dulling golden eyes, his wispy white lashes beading with panicked tears.

His hand drops. With his little remaining breath, he weakly calls out, “Ash . . . “

As the spell loosens its grip on Ash's mind, the fog of rage also lifts. He can think clearly again, and that allows him to clearly process what's in front of him. His hand, fiercely crushing Evius' throat, and Evius with a glassy-eyed plea beneath him.

As if touching an electric current, Ash jolts backwards, snatching his hands away from Evius' neck. He sits back on the deck, his face contorted in horror. Hot tears stream unrelentingly down his face, and he covers his mouth in anguish.

"Did I—?" he squeaks through his fingers. "H-how . . . Evvy . . . I'm so sorry!"

Gasping and coughing as he sucks in air, Evius shakes his head and sputters out, "No, no—Ash . . . It’s not, not your fault." He hefts himself to his knees and catches his breath.

Once his body has settled again, he scoots closer to Ash, reaching out to hold his panicked face. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm perfectly fine, I promise,” he soothes. “I'm alright, you're alright. Everything is okay. It was my spell that pushed you so far. I think we can safely say the tattoo works, though.”

The driving pull Ash had been feeling the whole fight finally started to make sense. But even so, to know he’s capable of something so terrifying—it rattled Ash. He could see the bruises he left and the drips of blood along Evius’ throat. It nauseated him.

“You used a spell on me? And it . . . it made me do that?” He gestures to the claw marks and bruises, afraid to actually touch them with his fingers. He looks up to Evius with pleading eyes. “Why? I . . . I could’ve—“ he clamps his hand back over his mouth, too horrified to finish that thought.

"There was never any real danger,” Evius assures him. “If I lost consciousness or if you took any damage, the spell would end. You couldn't have killed me, no matter how far it went." Evius chuckles breathily, continuing, "Besides, I wanted to give you a chance to stretch your legs a bit. You've not been able to let loose in. . . well . . . a while. And I did want to know if the barrier tattoo was effective."

“So you commanded me to try to murder you?” The horror begins to subside knowing that the stakes weren’t quite so high, but the hurt remains. “Evvy . . . what the hell were you thinking?! Even if you just passed out, that’s still . . . Ugh!” He groans in frustration, unable to even articulate how baffled he is. Evius has made stupid, impulsive decisions before, but this is a new level.

He takes a couple deep breaths to steady himself, but as he does so, he notices Evius’ expression begin to glaze over. It’s clear to him that Evius is beginning to check out mentally, running away from his feelings as he usually does. But then . . . he’s gotta be scared too, right? Ash realizes. And in pain . . .

Shaking off his residual anger, Ash gets to his feet, gently pulling Evius up with him. “C’mon, you’re hurt. You need to rest.”

Wordlessly, Evius cloaks himself in a veil of invisibility, shaking off Ash's hand in the process.

Ash frowns. “ . . . I know you’re there, Evvy. Just let me help you.” He searches for the faint blue outline he was taught to identify, quickly spotting the slender blur a few paces away. “Please.”

Without waiting for a response, he scoops up the outline of Evius, feeling the invisible weight falling into his arms. He hears a faint “ow” from his chest, and his heart aches with guilt.

"What happens now?" Evius murmurs, as if only to himself.

Ash laughs in spite of his frustration, surprised that Evius said anything at all.

“Well, I’m gonna take you to your room, and make sure you rest and heal.” He ponders for a second, then continues, “I think it's also time we talked about a few things . . . ”

Where there had appeared to be nothing in Ash's arms, there was now a disheveled and bruised Evius. He lets his head relax into Ash's chest, Ash's pounding heartbeat thudding in his ear. His cheeks dimple into a resigned smile.

"Yeah, I think so too."

[books-and-catears]

I liked the one about a ghost MC it was a really cute idea! I wanted to request something similar, where the MC who has a the appearance of the Japanese slit mouthed woman. She is a regular human and you can decide if she got the scar's from an accident or not, but she always where's a face mask to hide it and eats alone rather then with the brothers. When she's asked why they say "People can't eat when I they see my face." But one day she finally trusts the brothers enough to show her face.

OH MY GOD I KNOW THIS GHOST. If I'm not wrong, this ghost is called the Kuchisake Onna, kuchi meaning mouth.

This is so wholesome I love it. Your asks are so adorable :')

It has been forever since the accident. And yet the scar makes it feel like yesterday. Two scars running up towards your cheeks, making it look like you're constantly smiling. You hated mirrors at this point, without your mask especially.

You hear loud talking from the dining room downstairs as you stare at your meal on your study table. When was the last time you ate a meal with other people?

"What do you mean you won't eat with us MC?" Mammon and Asmo parotted every other day.

"People can't eat when they see my face." You left with that reply, refusing to answer the follow up questions.

Yours was a face only a mother could love, they said. Some screamed, some smiled sympatheticallly, the others nervously scattered away from the last time you tried to eat out by yourself. The restaurant requested you to leave since they were losing customers.

You walk up to the stairway, watching the brothers in their usual chaos. Maybe - just maybe, they won't be repulsed. Surely they've seen more horrifying things than you?

"Um..." You cleared your throat loudly. All of them stopped and looked at you. You usually never showed up until half an hour after meals.

But today you called out to the one of them. "Would you mind eating with me tonight...?"

Lucifer

"Of course I wouldn't mind MC."

He promptly got up with his plate as if he was already prepped for this day. Swiftly follows you into your room.

He sat down across you and began eating normally. "Thank you for inviting me in MC. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Nothing just..." You said untying your mask. "It felt like a good day." The mask fell off your face into your lap.

You paused and stared at Lucifer. He only looked shocked for a split second before a hidden rage clouded beneath his eyes. "Did someone deliberately-"

"No it was an accident. I was getting my teeth fixed when the lights went out and I moved. And something cut through my- well you can see." You explained.

"I see. Well that's quite unfortunate." Lucifer said and began picking at his plate.

You felt uneasy as chewed your food."You can leave if you feel repulsed. I wouldn't force you to-"

"No such thing MC. I was just thinking of consulting Satan and Solomon. Surely they know of spells that can heal your scars if you want them gone." Lucifer replied promptly. "And it's going to take a lot more than scars to scare us demons away."

"Lucifer...thank you." You said quietly.

"If possible I'd like to eat dinner with you from now on, MC. Frankly it's much calmer and it's a relief from my brothers."

After a long time, you laugh without your mask on.

Mammon

"I'll be right there, MC!"

Hurriedly grabs whatever food he has making a mess and jumps to his feet. He is in such a hurry, it's a miracle he didn't drop half of his dinner.

He plops down across the table from you, grinning ear to ear. "Of course you'd choose the Great Mammon to eat with ya!"

You nodded and chuckled, "Of course. But would you choose to eat with me?" Your pulled your mask away from your face.

His eyes went wide and then watery in the same instant. Is he..crying? "I-Im sorry..." You feel horrible so you hurry and tie the mask back up. Mammon grabs your hands and holds them down.

"I'm not crying stupid human! I'm just...you..you must have been in pain..when that happened." He said. "Who did this to you..."

"It's okay it was an accident, Mammon." You try to calm him down.

"Then why do you hide it? It's not even your fault!" Mammon said pouting. You looked down, "People get uncomfortable..."

Mammon shot up from his chair. "WHO DARE MAKE YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT? Show me I'll get them all! Noone messes with my human! I'm yer protector ain't I?! You never have to wear that thing around me!"

You blushed as he moved forward and hugged you, burying your face into his shoulder. "Mammon..."

You knew he was the best protector out there.

Leviathan

"I'm coming right away, don't worry MC!"

Stumbles around with his plate at your sudden invitation. His day has come. He is the chosen one.

He struggles to sit down, feeling estatic and nervous at the same time. "I didn't think you'd want to eat with me of all people, MC..."

"After tonight, maybe you'll feel that way about me Levi..." You said, taking off your mask. His face lit up as he let out a loud "Woahhh!"

Thinking he was scared you tried to hide it again before he screamed, "MC you look just like my favourite character from that horror romance anime "I fell for my best friend's scarred smile! That's so cool!"

You blink at him, blushing. What is with him and his oddly specific anime names!? Levi was oblivious to your shock ,going off at his own tangent. "You could pull off the perfect cosplay, come to my room tomorrow I can design it for you and then I'll make my own to go with it and we can go to the next convention-"

"Levi Levi calm down you'll run out of breath!" You couldn't hold in your laughter.

He stared at you awestruck,"So cute...why would you hide that cute face MC?" You shake your head, "Not everyone sees it as cute Levi."

"Well sucks for them to be such stupid normies." Levi blushed and scoffed.

Levi was the best friend everyone deserves and you were glad to have him.

Satan

"I'd be delighted to join you MC."

Was slightly taken aback at first but quickly composes himself and his dinner and follows you. His pace faster than usual.

Pulls out your chair for you like a gentleman and sits down himself. You smile and blush at the action. "So how was your day MC?" He asks like a gentleman, avoiding the elephant in the room, choosing it normalise it. You let the mask fall off your face.

"Oh..." Satan sat up straight, his shoulders stiff, his eyes going wide in anger. "Who dared to-"

"No no no Satan it was an accident!" You had to explain the whole thing for him to calm down. Then he nodded and held out his palm. "May I see how the deep the scar is MC?"

That was new. Noone has wanted to touch your scars before. When you nod, he reaches out and runs his fingers softly across your scars. "Hmm don't worry. They're not too deep. I can have them gone in a matter of days. That is if you'd like to me to."

It's like he knew. As much as you hated that scar, it kind of helped you see people's true intentions. You looked down unsure. Satan held your hand. "It's normal to get attached to scars you have for too long. None of us here will treat you any differently with or without it."

You smiled at him and held one of his fingers playfully. He laughed, his cheeks turning pink. "Ah now that's a smile I'd love to see everyday. May I have dinner with you more often MC?"

"Of course." His words and his presence were always calming to you.

Asmodeus

"I was wondering when you'd ask MC!"

Daintily picks up all of things and paces after you. He was excited but he restrained himself but he didn't want to scare you off.

Sits down close to you, smiling gleefully. He's just happy to be there with you. Grabs something off your plate with a fork and holds it upto your mouth. "MC come here let me feed you!"

It was probably the most nerve wracking to open your mask in front of him. The Avatar of Lust, the most beautiful being in Hell, and you- ugh, what's the point? You've come this far, let's get it over with. You put your mask down, bite off the potato off his fork.

You'd think Asmo would probably gasp and act all dramatic and hysterical. But instead he cupped your face, his eyes filled with worry and tenderness. "MC how long have you had this...?"

"A little over three years." You answered honestly. Asmo looked like he was about to cry. "You've been hiding away your pretty face from people for three years..." Asmo pulled you in a hug. "Noone deserves that. It's too lonely."

"Oh I'd hardly call it pretty-" Before you can even retort, he is glaring and pouting at you, holding your shoulders.

"I think I know beauty a little better than you, MC. And I say you're gorgeous and I'm going to eat with you everyday now." Asmo huffed to which you laughed.

Everyone deserves a hypeman like Asmo in their lives.

Beelzebub

"Oh? Me? Sure MC!"

Is surprised but happily goes along with you with all his food. You know he loves you when he gets midway from eating just to eat in your room.

He sits across, already muching away at his food. "Thank you for asking me to eat with you MC." You nod and tentatively take your mask off, trying not to draw too much attention for it.

Beel looks up shocked, his mouth full of food but he stopped chewing. He involuntarily reaches out to touch you, "Does it hurt MC?"

You shake your head. "It's years old Beel. It's okay. " Beel looks genuinely relieved at that and goes back to eating again. He doesn't seem bothered by it at all after that.

"Say MC will you be free next week? I could use your help in the new workout I'm doing. I need to train particular muscles for the big game they said." He switched to a whole new topic just like that. "Also this means I get to eat with you every day right?"

You felt warm inside. You were more than just your scar and Beel made you feel like that by hardly saying anything at all.

Belphegor

"...me huh? No I wouldn't mind."

Has a smug grin on his face as he gathers up his meal and slowly heads upward with you, making sure his brothers see how you chose him over the others. Cheeky cow.

He sits leaning into you cause he's too lazy to sit up straight. "So what's the special occasion MC? A face reveal?" Wow this one is direct.

He is staring right at you, as you pull off the mask slowly, thinking if it was a bad idea. His eyes grow wide for a split second before his fingers are already near your mouth feeling the scars.

"Deliberate or accident?" He asks. "Accident." You answer. He nods, "Good. I'm too tired today, wouldn't be able to take appropriate revenge." His fingers never leave your face.

"Is that why you keep it covered? You're embarrassed of it?" He asks. You think about it for a while. "I think I accepted it, it just seemed to make people uncomfortable and scared, if I smiled or opened my mouth to eat." You answer.

He smirked. "Then smile more. Let their cowardly selves feel uncomfortable. It's their problem that they can't see how cute your smile is."

That was surprisingly thoughtful. You smiled at him. "Thanks..."

He smirked back, "Also I'm going to be eating here from now on. My brothers annoy me."

He's cheeky but he has a good heart. Smiling never felt so easy.

[aineirisha]

What I confessed while daydreaming

Kakashi x reader 

Summary: The advantage of training with Kakashi is that you can have him close. Maybe a little too close. (Slowburn fluff and character background because why not). Set before team 7, Kakashi and you are not dating. Yet

A/N: this is a character insert fic and though is Kakashi x reader centered I want reader to be involved with other characters.

W/C: 3000 +  

"That's enough ramen for today Naruto," Iruka's hand stopped the blond child. Not a second after, said child was already whining, loudly.  

"Naruto, that's your sixth bowl of ramen in a row! Iruka-sensei is right, it's enough for today," you said, mocking at the kid, "one more bowl and you're gonna have to go back to your house rolling," you laughed at him. 

"If you want another bowl you'll have to pay for it, Naruto," the sensei stated in a reprimanding voice.

"Uh-... hehehe" he giggled as he scratched his head, "I better get going, I have homework to do," and he left sprinting. 

Iruka's sigh was cut by your loud laugh, "He's gonna empty my wallet soon, I swear." the brown-haired smiled at you. 

"Don't worry, we can split the check," you said as you took out the money.

"It's ok YN-san, you don't have to do th-"

"It's fine! I just got the first paycheck from the hospital," you winked at him.

"How's that going?"

"Uhmm... It's going good I guess... I'm learning a lot but chakra molding is exhausting. Not hard, but exhausting."

"You do look tired."

"I haven't slept well," that dream was becoming more recurrent and you couldn't crack what made you uneasy about it. 

Mau, come to me, my child...

The voice echoed in your head.

"Do you know what 'Mau' means?" you turned to Iruka.

"Well, it's not a word used anymore but many years ago it was used to name the period where seasons start to change. It means 'whirling dance' like the motion cherry blossoms make when they fall from the trees. Why?"

"I've been having this dream lately... It's like... flying and lots of colors... and... there's this... being, I think it's a man, that calls me daughter..." your pensive voice slowly silenced and your gaze was lost, "You must think I'm crazy," you chuckled.

"No, no. I've also had dreams that feel weird and I can't shake off the feeling," he gave you a warm smile, "It's not a nightmare, is it?" 

You shook your head, "No, it's actually nice, sort of. But this being, this man, keeps calling for me and I always wake up before I can reach him,"

"Maybe it'll shake off once you do."

What does he want from me? 

"Maybe..." you took a sip from your drink and sighed. Iruka took out his wallet to pay for the other half of the check and, as he did, you stared at him not noticing the smile drawing on your face. 

Life in Konoha was becoming routine. Not in a bad way though. The streets and the people had begun to feel familiar, you were no longer an outsider, you were slowly building a life there... one you knew you would eventually have to leave behind. 

The thought of that made your chest burn. You frowned.

"What is it?" Iruka interrupted your thoughts.

"Hhmm?" you turned your eyes to him, "Oh, I just, uhm- remembered something," you gave him a reassuring smile, "I gotta go now. See you next week?" 

"Sure. It's not like Naruto is gonna take a no for an answer, anyway," the sensei knew his student. You weren't seeing each other for training anymore because you didn't have enough time, but you always found moments to hang out, and lately, Naruto had been the excuse. 

"See you then," you smiled as you waved goodbye. 

~~~~~~

Every afternoon Sasuke left school and head himself to a place in the forest to train his aim. His determination was much like Naruto's except he wasn't searching for glory. It didn't come from a desire for recognition. It came from a dark painful place. A void in his heart that you had found nothing could fill. Not your warm smiles, or your kind gestures. Not even your power, apparently. 

By this point, you had run out of ideas on how to befriend him. 

After that time you asked Naoki-san to cook a meal for him and you received nothing but a cold "thank you" from Sasuke, and "It is rude to stay somewhere you were not invited in the first place," when you tried to establish a conversation, it was very clear to you that he wasn't gonna let you into his life that easily or at all. So all you could do was keep him company while hiding. It was against your nature not to help. And also every time you were near him, the pain you felt was so strong you wanted to die and kill everyone around you.  That could turn into something dangerous. 

No one deserves to feel that way and be left alone. 

So you followed him into the forest, hid behind a tree, and sat, hugging him with your chakra, trying to contain him.

You let tears run down your cheeks in complete silence to ease the pain coming from him. His chakra felt like a fortress made by the thickest and coldest ice. Every time your chakra reached his you felt the burn of cold rage in your chest and a lump in your throat that stopped you from making any clear sound.

How can he go through life like this?

He was an orphan, you had found. One of many in the village, but no one carried that pain. 

The tentacles of your chakra surrounded his, hugging him tightly as you whispered in your thoughts, 

You are not alone, you are loved, you don't have to play strong, I'm with you... You are not alone, you are loved, you don't have to play strong, I'm with you... You are not alone, You are loved... you are loved, you are not alone... 

A crack in the frozen fortress. 

He threw another Kunai screaming from the bottom of his lungs with the hoarsest voice and fell, knees on the ground. 

"WHY??!!!" He shouted at the sky, crying, "WHY DID YOU BETRAY US, BROTHER??!! WHY???!!" He sobbed uncontrollably, "WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL ME, ITACHI!!??" He threw the rest of the kunais furiously as he wept louder and louder. 

You hugged him tighter trying to keep his emotions together, containing him with all you could so that he didn't shatter. 

"I admired you..." he sobbed "I wanted to be like you... how could you...? I-... Mom-..." Sasuke took a deep breath, "but she's never coming back now..." he cried. 

And as he tried to contain his sobs you felt the crack in the fortress harden again, and a strong wave of energy pushed you back,

"And that's why I have to kill you."  

The crack disappeared. He stood up in silence and left. 

Distance broke the contact between your chakras and you were left alone in the woods with a feeling of abandonment you had never felt before.

***********

"Stop that, child! you're gonna hurt yourself!"

"But mom, I want to learn how to fight"

"That's for boys, my love, leave it to your brother"

"But I like swords, mommy, they make me feel powerful"

"Stop it! before you hurt yourself" 

 A scream. You hurt yourself. Mom had been right. 

"Why does my brother get to learn with swords and I don't?"

"Because he's a boy and boys are better with those things"

"But Taro-sensei says-"

"-You already tried and failed,"

"My brother still fails sometimes" 

"I don't want to hear another word on the subject child!"

You remembered those conversations so clearly. They constantly echoed in your mind like hunters of every single one of your decisions and every single one of your mistakes. As if everything you did was a way to prove that failure was not the end but one more step to move forward. But they had never let you fail freely, you always had to have everything figured out from the beginning. 

But EVERYONE failed from time to time. There was no way to achieve greatness without failure. 

Drops of sweat ran down your forehead as you bent forward to lay your hands on your knees, trying to ease your breathing. Frowning, you turned to see the targets painted in front of you, straightened your body again, placed yourself in position, and threw the kunai. 

The weapon flew to your right as if it had a mind of its own and landed on the floor. 

"God DAMN IT!!!!! WHY!!!!??" you squealed as you raised your hands to the air and pulled your hair. 

There were Kunais scattered haphazardly all over the training ground. 

Kakashi closed his book, turned to see you, and sighed as he listened to you insult and scold the kunais, your aim, the targets, and everything that crossed your path for the umpteenth time.

"You are aware that objects don't speak, aren't you?"

"I'm not trying to have a conversation with them, Kakashi- sensei, I'm just venting out" you replied annoyed.

"If you focused on practicing instead of 'venting out'," he said imitating your voice, "with a mouth that would put a sailor to shame, about something that is your fault, perhaps you would've achieved real progress and I would've finished my chapter in peace to be on time for my meeting." Kakashi's voice was calm almost sarcastic. Almost.

"ON TIME?" you snorted. 

He nodded, "as is my custom." 

You burst out laughing, "you should thank me, then," and channeling your chakra with one swift movement of your hand, pulled up all the kunais from the floor like a magnet to keep training. 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. At times he forgot about your power since he rarely saw you use it. "I don't understand why you bother yourself so much when you could have this solved so easily using that ability of yours," he said, maybe trying to comfort you. Truth be told he was actually impressed with your bad aim. 

You fixed your eyes on him with a sarcastic look and turned your body towards him to have him in front of you and the targets to your side. You grabbed a Kunai, extended your arm, and threw it channeling your power. The weapon hit the target right in the center. A perfect throw. 

Kakashi's eye widened just a little trying to hide his astonishment. If things had been different, you could've been a lethal kunoichi. 

"But what is life without some challenge..." you stared at the nailed kunai, extended your arm again, and channeled your power to have the blade back in your hand. "I don't want to take the fun away from things. I didn't come here to learn something I already know, anyway," there were no shortcuts. It's one thing to master your power and another to master your moves. You wanted both. Complete control over your body. 

You stared at the target with a killing look, grabbed the kunai tightly, and with one strong move, threw it with all your determination. 

But it landed god knows where. 

"FUUUUUUCKK!!!!" you yelled, defeated. 

Kakashi grabbed a Kunai from your pocket and looked at you like asking you to pay attention. He threw the kunai with an elegant, soft move.

"Fuck you Kakashi, not only do you have perfect aim but you're also graceful as a ballerina. How do you do it? I bet that Kunai enjoyed being thrown through the air like" and you opened your arms and pretended you were floating, "I also want to fly through the air... will you throw me?" 

 Kakashi rolled his eye and smiled. "Get back to training," he said looking at you. You pouted but did as he said. 

 You took a deep breath before you placed yourself in position. Kakashi stared at you, without giving it much thought he mimicked your movement which led him to step closer to you. That made you lose focus and you turned your eyes to him.

"Uh- you're not using your core the way you should, that's why they always go sideways, look, you'd have to-" he placed himself behind you to help you understand the motion. His hands guided your arms as he explained what to do with your core, "Get it?" 

Took you an instant to recover your breath. Had he not realized he'd been speaking the instructions to your ear? Was he seducing you? You turned your gaze to meet his and focused on the feeling of his chakra.

 Nope. Everything seemed normal. He had not realized. Until he met your gaze too and you stared into each other's eyes.  With an awkward stutter, he took a step back to distance himself, "Care to try it again?" 

You nodded and took a deep breath. Your heart was starting to race but you didn't want him to notice. It was probably too late though. 

Then again you took a deep breath to focus and threw the kunai. It slammed against the wooden target and fell to the floor. You gasped. It was the first time you had managed to hit it. Next step: Stick the tip of the kunai into it. 

You turned to Kakashi to find a satisfied grin on his face. He looked at you from the corner of his eye and said. "Well, I think my job is done." He headed off to the exit. When he noticed you didn't follow him he looked back at you.

"I'm gonna stay here until I get this fucking shit done right, have fun with your meeting" you waved goodbye and returned to your doings. 

A smirk grew on his face. Your stubbornness reminded him of someone. A certain man that would climb mountains with a hand on his back over and over again. 

What are you trying to prove, YN?

You didn't have to prove anything to anyone. Your family never expected anything from you but obedience. That for you it represented giving up your will. Over the years you had learned that if one day everything was missing, the only thing that would remain would be precisely that: your will. The only person you wanted to prove anything to, was yourself...

And you weren't going to walk out of the fucking training camp until you got that stupid shit done right. 

Hours passed by, your arms got tired of the exercise but you didn't stop. Throw after throw you felt your body accustoming to the motion Kakashi showed you. Now and then you took a moment to rest your body from the numbness taking over, and went back to practice. 

Suddenly, a sharp sound. 

You had hit the target and nailed the kunai this time. You grinned. Finally. Now you had to be able to do it more than once and you'll be satisfied enough to leave and rest. 

It got dark, the moon came out, the training grounds emptied, but your good throws were so arbitrary you didn't feel ready to call it quits. 

You were about to give up from exhaustion when you hit the target twice in a row, and then a third and fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh time!! And though they didn't all hit the center they were all nailed in the wood and perfectly still. 

"YEEEEEEEESSSS!!" you screamed so loud you scared some birds that should've been sleeping. Raising your hands to the sky in a sign of victory, you let yourself fall back on the ground and closed your eyes not only satisfied but proud. You only wished Kakashi had shown you the trick much sooner. 

Kakashi...

You smiled at the memory of him so close to you. He hadn't hesitated before touching you. That had to mean something, right? He trusted you enough to get close to you without thinking. That had to be a good sign. Even if after he realized it all turned awkward. It was a start. Your heart felt happy. It had been a good day. Good company and a lesson learned. It had only taken you hours to complete the task. About a hundred hours, but still, you felt you could now rest peacefully. 

**********

Shinobi life was not comfortable and rarely happy. Too much loss and too many wounds. But at that moment Kakashi could swear without fear of being wrong that bureaucracy was worse than any mission. And having to endure a meeting for hours with people who are not capable of reaching an agreement had left him annoyed. He was dying to get home for dinner and a bath. Surely he would also read for a while before going to sleep. It was a full moon night and Bull had destroyed his curtains a couple of days ago trying to catch a bird that had sneaked into his home so the light wouldn't let him sleep that easy anyway.

As he walked by the training grounds the memory of your scent so close to him earlier in the morning flooded his thoughts, and a feeling of discomfort and maybe even shame flooded his body. How could he be so disrespectful invading your space like that? He hoped you hadn't stayed on the training grounds to avoid walking with him. He enjoyed your little (sometimes not so little) chats. You were his friend. At least he thought of you as his friend. Would you think of him as your friend too? 

Maybe not... 

Does it matter Kakashi?

Maybe not... 

He decided not to dwell on the matter and that he simply would not touch you again to get rid of doubts and problems, he didn't want to scare you away.

His eyes searched the spot where you'd been as he wondered if you had achieved your goal. Would he see your progress next time? He smirked. He probably would, you always leveled up each training. When would he see you again? You hadn't settled the next session. 

His eyes stopped when they bumped onto a familiar figure lying on the ground. It was you. What were you doing? 

He walked towards you, hands in his pockets, only to find that you had fallen asleep. Many kunais were lying on the floor and, nailed on the wood, seven of them perfectly still. He smiled proudly. So you had done 'this shit right'. 

STUBBORN GIRL. 

 He leaned down to wake you up. 

"YN," he whispered as his hand moved your shoulder gently, "YN, wake up," but instead of waking up, you took a deep breath and turned to your side. He looked around thinking what to do. But it was too late and there weren't many options. He looked back at you tenderly and stroked your hair. Maybe he'll postpone the part of not touching you for later. He carried you in his arms and left the training grounds jumping on trees and buildings to get to your house faster. The oscillation made you open your eyes and somehow understand what was going on but it wasn't enough to wake you up. 

Until he reached your doorstep. He hesitated for a moment, not sure if putting you to bed could be considered trespassing. Maybe it was disrespectful... Maybe that was crossing a line... He had crossed enough lines for one day, he thought. 

When you realized you were at your door you made an effort to wake up. Kakashi helped you stand.

"Thanks for carrying me home" you yawned.

"I've been told the training grounds aren't a good place to sleep," he smiled at you. You smiled back almost completely asleep. 

"Good night, Kakashi."

"Sleep tight, YN"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FINALLY!!! After like a year or so, I’m back with this monster. I hope you enjoy. 

This is the 10 chapter of this fic. If you want to read more of this here are the links. If not thanks for getting this far anyway :3 <3 comments are always welcome :) 

CH 1     CH 9 (prev)

Materlist 

[mellowswriting]

I saw that requests are open! would it be possible for you to write a follow up to Second Chances with javi and reader? Maybe you have another kid and this time javi is able to be there for you throughout the whole pregnancy, and get to experience the first kick, you giving birth, etc (I am a sucker for domestic!javi if you can't tell haha) I think it would be really cute!!

From the Beginning

pairing || Javier Peña x afab!Reader

summary || Javier gets to experience the chaotic excitement of welcoming a new baby to the family.

word count || 6,466 

warnings || kid fic, pregnant reader, non-graphic childbirth, some spiciness but no smut, dad!Javi being adorable 

a/n || I can’t even express how much I love writing about the boys as dads, especially Javier! I really hope you all enjoy this, it was so very much fun to write.

Main Masterlist  |   Join the taglist!

Early spring mornings always had a special quality about them. The air was never too hot, pleasantly warm with a hint of a cool breeze that still lingered from winter’s sharp grip. Plants were beginning to bloom, the trees regaining their bright green foliage that ruffled in a symphony with every pass of the wind. Spring was the bringer of warmth after the ice and snow, the nurturer that coaxed seeds to sprout and flourish, the guide for new life and hope.

Ironic, then, that those very qualities you had grown to love were the ones causing you so much inner turmoil that you couldn’t even enjoy the gorgeous morning happening around you. You hadn’t even realized what was happening at first. Mother nature hadn’t exactly gifted you with a cycle that could be easily followed and predicted. Instead you had the supreme pleasure of having to carry around menstrual products everywhere you went and having to replace your underwear far more often than usual. So when you went two months without the waves of cramps and frustration of your period, it wasn’t all that remarkable.

It was when you were doing some last minute grocery shopping the night before that you realized something was off. Well, more off than usual. The sight of the shelves of tampons made your stomach bottom out with realization. You must’ve made quite a sight as you stood in that aisle with a cart half full of food, just staring at tampons with dread. Two boxes of pregnancy tests got tossed in with the various other items in your cart and you hoped that Javier was too tired from work to insist he help you put away the groceries.

For once, the universe appeared to be on your side. Your husband was sitting on the floor with Elianna, a spread of coloring books and crayons scattered on the living room carpet, and he actually listened to you when you waved him off to carry the bags in yourself. The tests were tucked away in the bathroom behind your tampons - ironic, yes, but it was the one place Javier really wouldn’t be poking around.

Honestly, a part of you felt bad for not telling Javier right away. He had more than proven himself as a great father and husband in the nearly two years since he returned to your life. Those irrational little fears of him leaving you and little Ellie had been crushed into nothing in the wake of the role he readily took on with his daughter, but this was different. Maybe it was pretty naive of you to not have that conversation with him, but it was something you thought you still had time for.

The plus sign on the pregnancy tests told you the time for that conversation was now, apparently. You were grateful for the timing of your little realization. Saturday mornings saw the standing trend of your sister whisking Ellie away for some ‘auntie and niece time’, and you really didn’t want her to feel the tension you were carrying. She was such a perceptive little girl that had an eye for everything.

Javier was still asleep. You usually slept in with him on the weekends, but you were restless to find out if your period was just pulling a fast one on you or if you actually were pregnant. Now you had four positive tests sitting in front of you and a sleeping husband who you couldn’t decide whether or not to wake up. Luckily, you ended up not having to make that choice since two sharp raps of his knuckles against the bathroom door snapped you out of your trance.

The door opened a millisecond after you snatched up the tests and hid them behind your back, not so unlike Ellie when she was hiding a treat she wasn’t supposed to have yet. The difference was that you didn’t know if this would be a treat to Javier. He was still half asleep, his thin pajama pants slug low on his hips and his eyes squinted against the bathroom light.

“G’morning,” He grunted as he moved to shuffle past you. “Move over, I gotta piss.”

You were rooted to the spot, though, your brain floundering to gain control of your muscles. “Uhm…”

“What’s wrong?” Javier slowly perked up through his sleepy haze at the realization that you looked downright terrified. He put his hand on your bicep and squeezed slightly. “Is Ellie okay?”

“What? No, yeah, Ellie’s fine. She’s with Amelia.” You spluttered, cringing at your inability to function.

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Javi pressed. There really wasn’t any hiding things from him. Ellie must get that sharp eye of hers from her father. “What are you holding behind your back?”

You tried to swallow down the thickness that enveloped your throat to form some sort of words, literally anything to convey to him what the hell was going on, but your body was seized with fear. So you held out the tests wordlessly. His eyebrows furrowed as he took the bundle of tests from your hand, staring at them with a split second’s confusion before it dawned on him. “This…? You…?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. The worry in your voice must’ve been obvious because Javier was on you in a second flat, his arms crowding you into his chest with a crushing strength.

“You’re pregnant?” Javier croaked into your neck and the dam of emotion in your chest crumbled. His voice was full of excited disbelief, and relief crashed over you.

“Yeah, I am.” You said with a tearful chuckle, winding your arms around him to burrow yourself even further into his chest. “I know we never really talked about having another kid but… is this something you want, Javi?”

“Fuck, this is ironic.” Javier laughed quietly and when you looked up at him, he avoided your eyes with an almost bashful look. “I was gonna ask you today if you ever thought about it. Do you have any idea how many times I went over it in my head?”

You couldn’t help it - you cracked up laughing. The whole thing was almost ridiculous - the both of you worrying despite wanting the exact same thing. Tears of relief and laughter soaked into his t-shirt as you both broke into chaotic laughter, fingers clutching at each other’s shirts as you tried to catch your breath.

“So, uh… are we doing this?” Javier sounded nervous, his hands rubbing up and down your back as if to reassure himself. “You really wanna have a baby with me? Again?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was choked with a tense mix of emotions, so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I do.”

“I can’t… fuck, I can’t believe you - you’d… thank you.” He babbled, nearly unintelligible in his scramble to convey how fucking grateful he was, but you knew. It wasn’t the first time you had heard the desperate need to spit words he couldn’t really find, the words that matched the swell of emotions in his chest that still wasn’t used to voicing. “Fuck, Ellie’s gonna be such a good big sister.”

That choked you up more than you expected. She really would be, you knew that for a fact, but it was a dream you had boxed up and shoved on a shelf with all your other unrealistic dreams for your future. Never in your life did you let yourself really think you could have the whole package deal - the loving (albeit gruff) husband, the big house, the sound of little feet chasing each other through the halls…

“Wait, how long have you been…? Or do we have to see a doctor first? Oh shit, we have to find a doctor for you, what the fuck are they called..? A fucking... obstetrician!” Javi rambled in a mix of nerves and excitement, breaking from your embrace to pace the length of the bathroom. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help, because -”

“Javi, breathe!” You calmed him with both hands out to stop his walking and braced your hands on his shoulders to rub at him firmly. “We have plenty of time, okay? Let me go make some coffee for you and we can sit down and make a plan. First, didn’t you have to go to the bathroom?”

“Oh… yeah.”

----------

Javier couldn’t stop bouncing his knee. It was a subconscious thing, something he stopped the moment he realized but soon found it moving of its own volition all over again. He really was trying not to let his nerves show even though he knew that you could tell. It was all so new to him, which wouldn’t be a problem if the reminder didn’t gut him every goddamn time. He couldn’t imagine how alone you must have felt the first time around when you were pregnant with Elianna, especially in these cold, sterile doctors offices.

His grip tightened on your hand. The feeling of your fingertips pressed against the top of his hand kept him grounded, helped him remind himself that there was no going back and changing everything else that happened. All he could do was be there this time around, be the best version of himself that he could be for you and his kid - well, kids now. Plural. The excitement was almost enough to drown away the guilt. Javi really could barely believe that he was getting the privilege of experiencing this with you.

“I’ve seen files on drug lords shorter than all that.” Javier nodded at the pile of forms and paperwork you held in your lap and you laughed brightly. He preened a little at the sound. It was something he could never get enough of, that laugh of yours. “I love you.”

You looked up at him, the pen in your hand stopping its constant scratching for the first time in forever, and gave him a lopsided smile. “I love you, too.”

There was no way he wasn’t going to kiss you after that adorable little display. Your cheek felt soft against his palm and the little sigh of relief you huffed against him was addictive. Just knowing that he was an anchor for you made Javier feel so incredibly loved and important and all he wanted to do was imbue you with that same sense of security. He held you close, his hand slipping back to the back of your neck to keep you right where he wanted you, and gave you those soft little kisses that never failed to make you melt.

“Mrs. Peña?” A nurse called out and he had no choice but to let you go with one last peck against your lips. He followed you and the nurse into the exam room, nerves and excitement soaring even higher in his chest.

It was kind of fascinating, watching you answer the nurse’s barrage of questions. Questions about your medical history, how many pregnancies you’ve had, all about your menstrual cycle. The two of you went back and forth for at least fifteen minutes, tossing questions and answers back and forth like a tennis match. The nurse left with the promise of the doctor being in momentarily for an ultrasound.

“Come hold my hand?” You asked, and how could he deny such a sweet request?

“Of course,” He pulled a chair from across the room and settled himself next to the exam table, both of his hands wrapping around one of yours as he brought it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “So what happens now?”

“The doctor will give me an ultrasound. She’ll probably want to run some blood tests, too.” You sighed, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of needles.

“I’ll hold your hand then, too.” Javier promised.

“It’ll be good practice for you, ‘cause once I’m in labor I’ll probably break your hand.” You teased and yeah, broken fingers didn’t sound all that great but fuck, he was more than ready to let you do just that. Javier wanted to be your rock, wanted to support you through it all - especially since he couldn’t the first time.

Two quick knocks sounded against the door made Javier straighten up hastily. The doctor came in with a smile and a large machine wheeling in behind her. “Good morning, mom and dad! How’re we feeling?”

“All good here, Dr. Hall. A little nauseous, but still… good.” You gave Javier’s hand a little squeeze before letting go to unbutton your jeans and fold the waistband down, followed by pulling the hem of your shirt up. It was hard to believe that the beginning of an entire new life was right there between your hips.

“Good to hear!” Dr. Hall fiddled with the ultrasound machine for a moment before turning to you. “So today we’re going to take a look and find out how far along you are, make sure mom and baby both look healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” You and Javier said in unison, and he took your hand again, needing to feel you there with him.

The gel must’ve been cold based on the way you hissed slightly. Javier watched the screen as Dr. Hall trailed the wand over your belly, lips parting at the sight of the black and white image. It was hard to make out what exactly he was seeing at first, but the image shifted slightly and he could make out the tiniest, vague shape of the newest edition to his little family.

“It looks like you’re about ten weeks along.” Dr. Hall murmured without taking her eyes off of the screen. “Baby is about the size of a plum.”

Javier squeezed your hand lightly, the both of you sparing a glance at each other before staring back at the screen in wonder. The doctor pointed out the baby’s head and a little foot as she took her measurements, reassuring you both that everything looked perfect. He gave a rushed “yes, absolutely” when she asked if he wanted the ultrasound photos - there was a spot in his wallet that he had in mind for it already.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in situations that left him shocked before. This was Javier Peña, after all. Life and career experiences had given him plenty of moments where his mind was completely washed blank with surprise, but never had it been such a good thing. There were so many times that the shock was accompanied by grief or anger, but excitement? Gratefulness? That was new to him, left him reeling the entire drive home, all throughout dinner. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him that he couldn’t be like this when Ellie got home the next day. She was smarter than he could’ve imagined any kid being at three years old and even though he agreed with your assertion that no one should know about your pregnancy for a few more weeks at least, Javier was certain his daughter would be able to needle it out of him.

Those expert interrogation skills must be hereditary.

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that it really hit him how real it was, that you really were sitting in the bed you shared with him, pregnant with his baby and making plans for the usual Sunday brunch and park visit you all did every week. As he set his wallet on the nightstand, he couldn’t help but pull out the little ultrasound picture. He had a feeling he would be doing that a lot, especially when the new cadets were driving him crazy at work. It all swelled up in his chest, the appreciation and excitement and disbelief, because holy shit, how did he get so lucky? One finger traced the little image in his hand, and he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Thank you.”

The confused look you gave him made him flounder for the words.

“I just… I know everything was fucked up the first time around but I swear, it’s going to be different this time. I am not going anywhere.” Javier slid closer at the sight of the tears in your eyes, easily welcoming your arms around his neck as you practically drug yourself into his lap. He held you close to his chest, trying to instill the certainty and promise of it all. “God, fuck, and I thought I couldn’t get enough of you before…”

“Javi…” You croaked, laughing wetly into his neck.

“I’m serious! You’re gonna have to tell me to fuck off when you want space because I can’t keep my hands off you.” Javi teased, relief washing over him at your seeming acceptance of his promises. “And now like this, growing my baby… fuck, I am in this with you. Me and you and Ellie… and our little plum.”

That night, Javier fell asleep with his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your neck, and his hand tucked into the waistband of your sweatpants to cradle that precious space that held his newest child.

----------

Ellie couldn’t stop touting her new title to anyone who would listen.

“I’m a big sister!” She told the cashier at the grocery store, the other kids at the park and their moms for good measure, and even the mailman when they came by each morning. The brightness in her eyes when she said it made your heart flip in your chest. You had expected some sort of confusion or even for her to be upset at the idea of a new sibling, but she launched right into a story about how her friend from playgroup has a baby sister, and you knew that she would be just fine.

With your sixteenth week rapidly approaching, you couldn’t be more grateful that Ellie was excited for the new addition to the family. It was one less thing for you to worry about amidst the chaos of bringing a new person into the world. The fatigue was something you definitely didn’t miss about pregnancy - it washed over you without warning, left you nodding off wherever you sat. Thank god Javier was such a hands on father. He had no problem herding Ellie off into the backyard or off for a walk to let you get some much needed rest.

You hadn’t expected him to be such a hands on husband, though. Sure, you knew he was excited and you knew he already loved everything about your body, but he really wasn’t lying when he said pregnancy made him want you even more. Every night, Javi’s hands gravitated to your body to ease the kinks out of your muscles, to rub your feet until the aches went away, to cheekily offer you an orgasm if you were up for one. It made you feel cherished, something you sorely missed the first time you were pregnant.

“Thank you, Javi,” You groaned lowly as those strong hands of his worked at your lower back. He easily hitched your thigh up slightly to ease some of the pressure on the new swell to your belly. There was a slur in your voice when you said, “Feels so good.”

Javier chuckled behind you, moving on to rub your feet. “Be quiet, you don’t want to wake Ellie.”

“Did you ever see this being our life?” You murmured though your voice was muffled by the pillows you buried your head in. “Telling each other not to wake the kids, making bacon smiley faces for a toddler’s breakfast?”

“I didn’t think I’d actually get it, but I wished for it. Dreamt about how pretty you’d look all full of me.” Javi placed a teasing kiss to the inside of your thigh. “The real thing is so much better.”

You could only groan under his praise. His thumbs dug into the arch of your foot and rubbed in methodical circles, drawing another pleased groan from you that you muffled in your pillow. The pain slowly melted from your tired muscles under his thorough ministrations, leaving a pleasant warmth in his wake that made you all pliant and drowsy beneath him.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Javi asked as he rubbed his hands up your calves and you smiled. You knew exactly what he was gunning for.

You eased yourself onto your back and reached out for him with both arms, bringing him forward with grabby hands that he could never refuse. Javier settled between your thighs, a knowing smirk on his face, and leaned down to kiss you deeply. “‘M feeling good, Javi.”

“You know I love making my girl feel good,” Javi murmured as he kissed down your neck, one hand trailing back and forth over your hip and thigh lovingly. “Can I make you feel even better?”

“Please?” You asked breathily and your husband was more than happy to oblige. The loose tank top you wore was the first to go, followed quickly by your shorts and underwear.

Javier set about lavishing your neck and chest with affection, his touch more gentle than usual on your oversensitive breasts, and once again you were struck by the surrealness of it all. The fact that this had begun in Colombia all those years ago as two coworkers using sex for stress relief and had blossomed into this beautiful life you shared together was a thing of dreams. But there you were, with Javier Peña making love to you, quietly as to not wake your daughter and gently as to keep you and your baby safe and happy, and you could barely believe it.

“I love you,” You choked out through the tears that sprung into your eyes and Javi sat up to look at you with a concerned expression.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes roaming all over to find the apparent source of your tears.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You tried to pull him back down to you but he didn’t budge, the concern unwavering.

“Then why are you crying?” Javier brushed a thumb under your eyes to wipe away the evidence of your strong burst of emotion.

“Because I love you,” You chuckled as you held his hand close to your cheek and pressed a kiss to the middle of his palm. “And I’m pregnant, so everything is a thousand times more intense and you don’t get to tease me for that.”

“I would never,” Javi muttered but the mischievous grin on his face betrayed him. “Let me make you feel better, baby,”

“I’m already better, Javi - oh,”

----------

Two o’clock in the morning was not an ideal time to wake up, especially since Javier knew that Ellie would be awake and full of energy by seven, but something felt off. Even in his unconscious state, he could feel the absence of you in bed and his mind nagged at him to get up and find you. The hardwood was cold beneath his feet as he wandered from the bedroom, finding the bathroom empty before he made his way down the stairs. You often would rest on the recliner in the living room when your back was bothering you particularly bad, especially since your center of gravity had so drastically changed the further along you got in your pregnancy - but you weren’t there either.

Before Javi could start really worrying, he heard the refrigerator open and found you peering into the illuminated fridge in search of… something. A pint of ice cream was already in your hand, a spoonful of it hanging from your lips as you browsed with a frustrated look on your face, and honestly… Javi loved how you looked. It was so domestic and sweet, the sight of you in your pajamas that barely covered your belly as you raided the kitchen.

Thirty-six weeks and four days. He could barely believe how much time had passed since he saw those positive tests. It felt like forever and the blink of an eye at the same time, and he was beyond excited to meet his newest little one.

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?” Javi asked after a moment of watching you helplessly search around.

The sheepish smile you gave him made his heart swell in his chest and he automatically opened his arms as you shuffled over to bury your face in his chest. “Your kid is driving me crazy with the cravings.”

Javier hugged you tightly, relishing in the way you relaxed against him. “Well, if they’re anything like me, they probably want those barbecue chips, then.”

It didn’t take long for him to get you herded back up to bed with the chips in hand and the sight of you sleepily munching away while burrowed in the blankets eased an almost innate need Javier had to see you safe and happy, all nice and taken care of in his bed. He climbed into bed once he was sure you didn’t need anything else, settling on his side with his head propped up against his hand to watch you despite his own sleepiness.

“Let your mama sleep, troublemaker.” He murmured to your belly as he rubbed gentle circles over the spots he could feel the nudges of his little one retaliating to their father’s stern words. “Need some lotion?”

“Hmmm, please?” You hummed.

Rubbing lotion into your skin was something Javi had taken a particular liking to. The first time he had seen you doing it yourself, he was quick to take over. That was the first time he felt his little one kick at his hands and he fell even more in love - something he hadn’t thought was possible. It was a good way to feel closer to you both, to his wife and the baby you were bringing into the world, and the way you dozed slightly as he helped you relax made him feel needed, like he was doing right by you. That’s all he ever wanted to do.

A nudge to the edge of his hand made Javier glance back down to where his hands were running all over your belly, but it was the sight of the baby rolling that made him do a double take. “Holy shit,” He whispered, hands frozen as he saw what had to be the imprint of a little foot or hand poke out before disappearing. “There really is a whole person in there.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” You grumbled, grimacing slightly at the feeling. “It’s aerobics hour, apparently.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” Javi tentatively resumed massaging the lotion into your skin. It was hard to fathom, the idea that your body was so capable of creating and nurturing a brand new life, and for the millionth time he found himself thanking the universe for letting him have this second chance.

----------

Gabriel Peña came early, quick, and with a sharp cry you were sure could be heard throughout the entire hospital. His little nose was scrunched up, his face all red from his wailing, hands curled into angry fists over his sudden eviction from the warmth and darkness he was accustomed to. It was a short labor, so very different from your first with Ellie for so many reasons but the biggest being the strong presence of Javier at your side. The moment the contractions began at the crisp hour of six a.m., he was alert and full of nervous excitement.

True to his word, Javier let you clutch onto him through it all - every contraction, every push, every angered grumble you threw his way for getting you pregnant in the first place. That sharp mind of his kept up under the pressure. He spoonfed you ice chips and let you use him for support as you rocked your way through particularly bad contractions.

There were tears in Javier’s eyes as he carefully set his hand on his son’s head, carefully musing the shock of dark, wispy hair on his head. You leaned your head against Javi’s shoulder, exhaustion, relief, and happiness warring with each other after hours of labor. You felt his lips press against your temple before he sniffled and whispered, “Thank you.”

Javier stayed by Gabriel’s side the entire time the doctors checked him over and cleaned him up, per your instructions, and he was the one to return your son to your arms. It was the most careful you had ever seen him, his movements slow and deliberate, eyes on the baby’s adorable, chubby face.

“Seven pounds, nine ounces,” Javi murmured as he drug a chair as close to your bedside as possible and settled in, his hand resting on your thigh. A disgruntled whine came from the baby wriggling in your arms and you smiled, knowing he was hungry and could probably smell the milk your body had been preparing to make for his arrival. You pulled the gown down to expose your breast, propping your arm with a pillow to better support him, and adjusted his latch to settle in.

“Nice latch, mama,” One of the nurses said as she finished settling the blankets around your feet.

“Not my first time at this rodeo.” You chuckled quietly. It had been a while since Ellie weaned but you still remembered the struggle of figuring out how to get a newborn to latch properly when you had no idea what you were doing. You set your hand over Javi’s, smiling at him when he blinked sleepily up at you. Neither of you had gotten much rest before Gabriel decided to make his appearance into the world. “Can you hand me some water, honey?”

“Of course,” Javi perked up with the small task you gave him. There wasn’t much he could do at this point, but you wanted him to feel involved, to feel like he was helping you, and even though his mere presence helped you relax, you knew he was an ‘action’ kind of man. He needed something to do to feel useful. He held the straw steady for you and everything, your sweet husband. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.” You answered honestly, leaning into his hand when he brushed stray hairs from your face.

“I know this wasn’t easy. I’m proud of you.” It was a simple statement but it hit you right in your chest. As excited as you were to have another baby, it was hard. Exhausting. He could see it all, how tired you were and how hard you were working just to carry on like normal through your pregnancy, and while he did everything he could to ease some of that burden, the plain acknowledgement of how hard you worked felt good.

“I love you so much.” You whispered, pulling his hand close to kiss his palm.

“I love you, too.” Javier leaned over the side of the bed and kissed you softly, careful not to jostle his son where he sleepily nursed against you. “How are our kids so damn cute?”

You huffed a laugh, which made Gabriel shift against you before settling back down, sighing suspiciously similar to his father. “It helps that their dad is incredibly good looking.”

“True,” Javi said, trying for that cocky tone you loved but you didn’t miss the pink tinge to the tips of his ears. Compliments always got him like that, all red-faced and adorable - though he would never admit it.

A short nap later and you had one very excited Ellie fidgeting in the chair next to your bed, impatiently waiting to meet her baby brother. Javier stood behind her, quietly reminding her to be careful as you helped keep the squirming newborn steady in her lap. Your heart damn near exploded when she began cooing at her brother and very gently touching his soft cheeks. She was enamored by him, asking so many questions that you and her father could barely keep up.

“Can we share my bed?” “No, he can’t sleep in your bed, baby. He has to sleep in a special bed in mommy and daddy’s room.”

“Does he get a special seat like me?” “Yep! Daddy’s putting his carseat in next to yours right now. You’ll get to talk to him the whole way home.”

“Is he gonna cry a lot?” “Yeah, he will. That’s how babies let people know they need something since they don’t have words like we do.”

“Can I share my crackers with him?” “Not yet! Right now, he only drinks milk.” “Milk? Like for cereal?” “Kind of, but it comes from your mommy.” “What?!” “You ate the same thing when you were a little baby, too.” “What?!”

The entire drive home was full of little Ellie chatting away at her baby brother, mostly about the stuffed animals she had at home that she promised to show him the moment they got home. There was a small smile on Javier’s face as he drove, his hand curled around yours on the center console. He practically radiated contentment and damn did it look good on him.

----------

For what felt like the millionth time, you woke before the sun had a chance to rise. Though this time, it was to the feeling of a full bladder rather than the sound of a hungry baby, so that could be counted as a small win at the very least. You tried to ignore the ache in your healing body as you stumbled your way to and from the bathroom, near silent in your movements even though you were half asleep. It was a well practiced dance, getting out and back into bed without waking your sleeping children.

But something was off. The sheets were cooler than usual, missing the fire-like heat that Javier radiated constantly. You sat up, blinking against the drowsiness and darkness to see your husband passed out on the rocking chair in the corner of the room with Gabriel curled up on his bare chest. Skin-to-skin contact was something Javier couldn’t get enough of. He told you how close it made him feel to his son and you couldn’t complain. It was a precious sight. Avoiding the creaky floorboards, you carefully covered Gabriel with a soft baby blanket and smoothed it down his back.

“S’wrong?” Javier mumbled, words slurred with sleep, his eyes barely cracking open. On instinct, his hands shifted over the little baby asleep on him to hold him closer, even more secure.

“Shh, nothing’s wrong.” You soothed as you gently tucked his curls back away from his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“M’kay.” And with that his eyes were closed, back to dozing like he was never interrupted in the first place. You were glad. Tomorrow was an early morning, and paired with all of the midnight feedings and diaper changes, you all could use some rest. So you laid back down, sleep dragging you back under swiftly.

Javier was practically bouncing with nerves just hours later, even though he was trying not to show it. It brought you back to that first appointment when you were pregnant, only this time he held a sleeping one-month old who he was trying not to wake up with his nervousness.

“I just want it to go well.” He grumbled when you asked if he was okay.

“It will.” You reassured him, rubbing circles into his knee. “They’re both perfectly healthy, the pediatrician will tell you that, too.”

You were right - then again, when weren’t you? Gabe was a healthy nine and a half pounds, strong heart and lungs, and good reflexes. Javier was hooked on the pediatrician’s every word, nodding along and giving you a relieved smile with each positive statement. And of course, Ellie’s rambunctiousness had the pediatrician and nurses completely captivated as she told them all about her preschool and the antics she got up to while they checked her over.

The pride on Javier’s face with every positive comment and reassurance that both of his kids were on track developmentally made your heart flip. You felt so beyond lucky to have this little family of yours, with two beautiful children and the man you always loved. It felt too good to be true sometimes, especially when Javi pulled you close for a tight hug and a kiss to the side of your head before he worked to get one wiggly Gabe back into his onesie.

One impromptu trip to the park later and you and Javier had two very tired kids on your hands. Ellie was already passed out by the time Javier pulled into the driveway but Gabe was quickly venturing into ‘overtired’ territory. He was grumpy, wriggling around in your arms like he couldn’t get comfortable, all the while giving little whines and grunts that threatened to turn into full on wailing. He didn’t want milk, he didn’t need a diaper change, he just wanted to sleep but was too frustrated to let a nap take him.

“Give ‘em here.” Javier offered and you freely handed him over. The postpartum fatigue was no joke, and even though it was lessening with each passing day, you were damn tired so you had no issue with letting your husband put the baby down for a nap. You curled up on the couch, not quite going to sleep but still letting your mind and body rest as you listened to Javi try to negotiate with Gabriel as if he were some sicario and not just a particularly stubborn baby.

“C’mon, little man. Just go to sleep. All of your problems if you went to sleep right now? Solved. Completely solved. Instead of crying you could just… go to sleep.” Javier whispered over the cooing and grunting of his son. “Oh, don’t give me that face, mister.”

You snorted a laugh - you knew exactly what face Gabe was pulling. His nose and eyebrows would scrunch up, lips pursed as he huffed angry breaths like a little baby bull. It was an exaggerated copy of the face Javier pulled anytime he was frustrated, which you found ridiculously adorable. Slowly, the grumpy grunts became more and more quiet until they disappeared completely, and a few moments later, Javier flopped down on the couch next to you with a sigh.

“Got him down.” Javi said as he pressed close to you, burying himself between the back of the couch and your body to press his face into your neck. A blanket of drowsiness must have settled over the entire house as both kids napped peacefully in their beds and you cuddled up to your husband in the living room. The both of you would doze until the sound of little feet on the hardwood or the sounds of a hungry baby woke you, and then it would be back on the grind of parenthood, but you knew… with Javier by your side, you could do it.

{Taglist}

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[margarethelstone-2]

if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)

requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!

Read on AO3!

"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"

The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.

The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.

She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.

He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.

All the way until now, that is.

And just what on earth was she going on about?

"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.

"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"

Taichi hummed in thought.

"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"

"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."

"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."

He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.

She really was being impossible today.

Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.

Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.

Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.

He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.

She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.

She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.

"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"

"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.

"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"

Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."

Wrong. She was flustered.

"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."

Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.

He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.

He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.

He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.

"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.

"Chihaya–"

"It's because you never say it."

He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.

She was distressed. She was insecure.

No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.

With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.

Only one thing he could do now.

"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."

She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.

And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"

It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.

That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.

"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."

"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."

Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.

Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.

"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"

He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.

"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."

"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"

"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."

Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.

The things she did to him without as much as trying.

You evil little imp.

"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."

He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."

She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.

"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."

He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.

Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.

What made me fall for you, I wonder?

He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.

There were so many reasons, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.

Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.

Maybe...

"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.

And then he kissed her properly.

Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Seven: Way Down To Wonderland

(Image not mine)

Rated: PG

~Hey Alice, is it greener here Or does it seem like dirt? Does it feel the same, can you say that you Are happy to be home?

The rabbit seems to call your name You're late, so it's time to move Oh Alice, you know it's your fate Tick, tock. No time to lose

Hey Alice, time is running short This can't take too long Make a choice now. On which side of the door Do you feel you belong?~

Did I know it was a bad idea?

Yes. Yes, I did.

Did I do it anyway?

Yup.

Was I going to regret it?

Yeah, probably.

Did that thought stop me?

Absolutely not.

I was going with Jack. I was going to leave that freezing nothing-in-nowhere place behind me and I was going to be free. With the Winchesters protecting me, I would never have to be afraid of anything ever again.

At least until they found out the truth. But I could keep them fooled for long enough, right? I mean, Jack seemed to like me. I wasn't sure in what way exactly, but he did seem to like me. That was something wasn't it? It had to be.

Me and Jack just sat and talked while Sam and Dean burned the bones and covered the body back up. The only reason I knew the body was there was because I had found this place three years ago, though as to the corpse's identity I had no clue. I was just making crap up.

When the job was finally done it was around midnight and the hunters wanted to go back to their motel. They also wanted me to come with them.

"But where would you sleep?" I argued.

"Oh, I don't sleep that much." Jack simply shrugged. I chewed on my lip, for every excuse I could come up with, Jack had a solution.

"Look Jack, I've spent a long time here and I've got, like, this 'secret hideout' where I always sleep- er, slept, and I just wanna go back there, collect my stuff and say goodbye, ya’ know? I'll meet you outside your motel bright and early tomorrow morning. Alright?" Maybe the slight truth would work where excuses had failed miserably. Jack sighed.

"You promise you'll come?" He asked.

"Cross my heart," I said, doing the motion.

"Good cause' if you don't show, Cas will know where you went," Sam said, his voice was friendly but it sounded like a threat. I guessed he was suspicious. Sam got in the car.

"That is true," Castiel said, following him. Yeah, they were both suspicious of me.

"Oh. Uh, nice." There went all hopes of running away from this. "Well where are you guys staying? Just so I know where to go," I asked.

"It’s called North Sea Motel, or something like that." Jack paused for a moment. "Uh, I think." I smiled with a shake of my head.

"I think you mean North Port Motel," I corrected him. Jack smiled.

"Yeah, that one!"

"Okay, well, I'll see ya there!" I started to dismount from where I sat, perched in a different tree, but Dean's voice stopped me.

"Say, where is this little ' secret hideout' of yours? We could drive you, just tell us where. Then you could get your stuff and come to the motel with us, you might even get a good night's sleep," Dean offered. I turned him down with a shake of my head.

"Nah, you boys get some sleep. Besides, if I told you where it was, it wouldn't be my 'secret hideout' now would it? Also, it’s not exactly accessible by car anyway, but don't worry, it’s not far." That was a lie. It was all the way across town, but I might need to use it to hide from these guys one day so telling them the location wouldn't be smart.

"Alright well, see ya’ tomorrow, kid." Dean climbed into his car and revved the engine, waiting for Jack before driving off.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow!" Jack smiled at me. His smile was sort of strange as his mouth curved up on one side and down on the other at the same time. I liked it.

"See ya’ tomorrow Jack-Jack." I winked at him from where I sat, perched in a different tree. Then in the blink of an eye, Jack was beside me, pulling me in for a hug. I was surprised but hugged him back. I took a deep, breath through my nose.

'Holy zoodles, you smell amazing!' I thought to myself. For a split second the thought entered my mind. For a split second I considered what it might be like.

But that wasn't going to win out.

I pulled away from the hug and Jack smiled his crooked smile and he disappeared, and I waved as the Black Impala drove off. I sighed.

"Whatever you're gonna say, you can go ahead and say it!" I said to the air.

No reply.

No Isaac.

Nothing.

"Ugh! You're so dramatic! If you wanna talk then talk, ya friggn' weirdo!" I shouted to no one.

Isaac still didn't appear. I hopped off my branch and began to sprint through the snowy woods at top speed. Mocking all the way.

"Oh I'm Isaac and I'm so superior to everyone and I'm a stinkin' drama queen who has to be all cryptic about my USELESS OPINIONS!"

I shouted the last bit before climbing the rope into the tree house. I had made it in under five minutes. When I hauled my sorry butt inside the tree house, Isaac stood there, waiting. He had his arms crossed and his shoulders square and his face was a mask of barely controlled rage. I copied his stance and stared back at him. He remained silent. I could only do it for so long.

"What?" I asked, giving in. Apparently that question was all it took for Isaac to explode.

"DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FRIKIN' GAME?!" He shouted. I couldn't help but stumble back a few paces. Isaac never yelled, not at me. Isaac yelled at everyone else, but never, ever, me. I blinked a few times, trying to discourage the tears.

"N-no! I-I-I just-"

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!"

"NO! But I-"

"REALLY? BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! BECAUSE THAT'S HOW YOU'RE ACTING! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" Isaac took a menacing step, and it took a lot of will to stand my ground.

"I don't know! I wasn't-"

"THAT'S RIGHT! YOU WERN'T!" I looked away, blinking furiously to dispel my tears. Isaac sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself.

"I was just trying to save our butts! I didn't think they would take it like that and try to adopt me on the spot!"

"Why didn't you just say no?!"

"Because that would have looked suspicious!"

"Then just run! They'll move on without you! They'll keep going with their lives! They don't care about you!" Isaac insisted. His words hurt. Why? Why did they hurt?!

"That's not true! They said they'd search for me!" I tried, but it was a weak response, and I knew it. Isaac laughed, it was bitter and without humor.

"What? Is it that Half-Angel freak?" He snorted. I lowered my head.

"He's not a freak," I mumbled.

"Sorry, could you say that a little louder? I couldn't hear you over all your stupidity!" Isaac sneered. My head snapped up and my teeth and fists clenched.

"Jack. Is. Not. A. Freak!" I growled. Isaac's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, you don't- No. No, you're not really-" I knew what he was asking, and I simply glared at him.

"What?"

"Do you like him?" Isaac asked, disgust prevalent in his tone. I looked at the floor, grinding my teeth.

"No."

"OH COME ON! REALLY MARTY? YOU GOT A CRUSH ON THAT FREAK-A-ZOID!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Isaac roared, "HE'S A FRIGGIN' TWO-YEAR-OLD FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" I couldn't take it anymore.

"SHUT UP ISAAC!!!" I screeched, my pitch rising with my anger. I took a deep breath and stared him in his cold, dead eyes. "If Jack is a freak then so am I!"

"No, you are what you are. That kid, if you can even call him that, is trying to be two things at once! He's more powerful then the actual angel! Couldn't you feel it? That thing could probably kill you without even trying!" I rolled my eyes, my fists clenching tighter. I could feel my nails cutting into my hands, but I didn't care.

"Jack wouldn't hurt me. He's not like other hunters, Isaac! He's not doing this out of hate!" I insisted. Isaac's face twisted into a snarl. He walked over and looked down on me.

"And when he finds out that you've been lying? What do you think he'll do then? What do you think they'll all do? Do you think they'll just shower you with hugs?" He questioned, mockingly.

"No."

"They'll never except you. Once they find out the truth, and they will find out, they'll never love you. You know why?"

"Stop." I ground out through clenched teeth.

"Because they are not your family, Marty. They never will be," Isaac hissed.

"I don't need them to be. Besides, I can always talk them into it." Isaac stepped away now and started pacing the floor of our hideout.

"But you won't. You know why? Because it will never be real. That's what you want, isn't it?" He jeered.

"I just want to be safe! I don't wanna run anymore!" I protested, even though he was right. Isaac shook his finger at me.

"No, you want it to be real. You want it so desperately, don't you? That's what this is all about, isn't it? Deep down it's all about Jack, and you know it."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Isaac," I seethed. He turned to me with a quizzical yet mocking expression.

"This little crush you have on the hybrid freak, do you really think you have a chance?" Isaac flicked his finger against my skull. "I know you're all grown up in there, but out here you're still fourteen! And you heard it right out of his mouth, he may be grown up on the outside but he's still only two-years-old! I don't care which side you look at it from, that's pedophilia either way!" I wished I could punch Isaac in the face, much more than I usually did.

"It's not like that! You can't stop me Isaac! This isn't your decision to make!" I shouted at him.

"I'm not letting you go with them. If that means murdering all of them in their beds, then so be it! I'm not going to let them hurt you!" Isaac barked.

"What is wrong with you?! This is my decision! Why do you keep trying to control my life?!" I demanded.

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO WATCH MY SISTER DIE!"

I blinked. I couldn't speak. What could I even say? We stood across from each other, the anger draining away into heartbreak.

"I just want a friend, Isaac. Is that really so wrong of me?" I demanded in a whisper. A rain of emotion was beginning to sizzle out the fire of my fury. My spectral companion stopped in his tracks.

"A friend? What am I, chopped-liver?" Isaac asked, sarcastically. Though his tone was mordant, I could sense the hurt that sapped through.

"Isaac, that's not what I meant," I tried to back-track, but it was useless. Isaac's lip curled and his eyes narrowed.

"I've spent five years stuck in the veil, not being able to talk or be seen by anybody but you. All of that just so your sorry ass wouldn't be so friggin' lonely! I put off going to heaven and this is what I get for it?! What? Am I suddenly not good enough for you anymore? Is that it?!" He spat.

"Of course not, Isaac! You're my brother! You're my best friend and you always will be!" My voice came as a stressed whisper as I strived to explain, "It's just that-"

"That what? What makes him better than me? What makes any of them better than me?! What does that Nephilim freak have that I don't, huh?" He challenged, his voice like burning acid. I couldn't take it anymore.

"YOU'RE DEAD, ISAAC!!!" I screamed, tears gushing down my face like salt-water rivers. I couldn't stop them. "YOU'RE DEAD AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" Isaac blinked, speechless. "Mom and Dad and Jackie and Bree and Jazz; they're gone! They're all gone and it's all my fault!"

"Marty-"

"No, Isaac! You're gone and I can't have you back, not for real. I can't high-five you when we laugh, I can't punch your shoulder when you're annoying me, and when I'm upset you can't wrap your arm's around me and hold me until the tears run dry! You can't do that, and I don't blame you, but you can't!" I took a deep breath and looked at the rough wooden floorboards as I tried to mop up my tear-stained cheeks, but it didn't work. All the sadness from the last five years was escaping now.

"I don't-" Isaac started but I wasn't finished just yet.

"I need someone who can do that, Isaac. It's been exactly five years, eleven months, and twenty-two days since somebody hugged me! I didn't realize how much I needed it until now, and I don't think I can go on like this any longer! Isaac, I am all alone," I lamented.

"You have me, Marty," He whispered. I hadn't realized that ghosts could get choked up.

"Isaac, you're not really here," I whispered, painfully. "I know you're all I have; but I don't have you, not really. I don't want you to go, but every single day, this figment of you reminds me that you're never coming back," I sniffed, still trying to keep it under control, but the look in Isaac's eyes made that impossible.

"Oh, Marty... I-I'm sorry." I rubbed at my eyes, wishing once again that I could lay my head on his shoulder and just cry like I wanted to, but I couldn't.

"I just want you back!" I sobbed, my ragged breaths scraping at my dry, tender throat. Isaac reached out but his arms passed right through me, just like always. I looked to him in despair before moving to sit on the mattress. "Why did you have to die?" I whispered.

"I don't know."

"Just let me go with them, Isaac. I can't do this anymore."

"If you're going then I'm coming with you. Through thick and thin, remember?"

"Through thick and thin," I agreed. Isaac smiled at me weakly.

"Well, get your stuff together, we're goin' on an adventure," He said. I nodded and strode over to the backpack in the corner. Reaching to the very bottom of the bag, I grabbed hold of the two objects I hated the most.

Two bags filled with a pint each of human blood. The label bore the name: Aspirus Keweenaw Hospital. It was the only hospital anywhere near Copper Harbor, though it was more than twenty miles away. It was a long way to go by foot but now I would never need to go again. I just hoped that wherever these hunters lived there was a hospital nearby. I weighed the bags in my hands and considered the possibility of smuggling them past the hunters. The odds were pretty bad.

"Just wondering, how do you plan to keep this a secret while under the watch of four hunters?" Isaac asked from behind me. I inhaled deeply before turning back to him.

"No idea! But as for right now―" I ripped open a small hole in one of the bags and raised it into the air the way you would raise a toast― "Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"

I think you can figure out what I did after that.

-2 hours and 56 minutes later-

I finished packing all of my belongings into my backpack and a few extra things I stuffed in my violin case. Then, I saluted the now abandoned tree house farewell and tromped off through the snow to say goodbye to the one person in this town that I actually considered a friend.

The bell dinged as I pushed open the door to the pharmacy. I smiled at the shapeshifter behind the counter and waved. Dan-the-Dope-Man, regardless of anyone's opinion about his behavior, was the closest thing to a friend as I had made in these past five years. He may not have been the best person, but I owed him a lot and now this was the only way I could repay him.

"Marty! I thought you died! When I watched you go with those hunters, I didn't know what to do! Are you okay?" There was no one else in the store, so the man with the face of a forty-year-old hopped over the counter and rushed over to me, enveloping me in a hug. In this form, he didn't have his Brooklyn accent.

"I'm fine, Danny but, uh, I gotta tell you something." Dan released me and held me at arm’s length.

"What? What's wrong?" He worried.

"Nothing's wrong," I told him, shaking my head, "But I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" Dan exclaimed.

"Those hunters, they asked me to come with them, they said they're gonna protect me." Dan's brows pulled together and he looked at me with concern.

"Marty, they're hunters. Protecting things like us, vampires and shapeshifters, isn't exactly what they do!”

"They don't know what I am, and I plan to keep it that way. But these guys, they're different. They're gonna protect me, and maybe they'll help me find Felix!" I said, gently.

"That's a dangerous game."

"Let's hope I'm good at it."

"You're really gonna do this?"

"Yeah." Dan sighed.

"Well in that case, I'm gonna miss ya, Marty." He wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him back.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Danny!" Apparently, my eyes hadn't rid themselves of tears completely. A few salty droplets dripped down my cheeks.

"Take care of yourself, sweetie. Remember, if you ever need a place to go, my door is always open." He said, patting my back.

"Thank you, man. For everything. I owe you a lot." I wiped my cheeks and gasped a breath as I pulled away.

"Eh, don't worry about any o' that. Stay alive, Marty. That's all the payment I want," Dan smiled.

"I can do better than that," I promised, smirking.

"Whattdya' mean?"

"If any hunter ever comes to check this place out again, I'm gonna give you a head's up. Sound good?" Dan grinned.

"Sounds great, Marty." He hugged me again and when he pulled away, he had an idea.

"Before you go, here, take these," He said, grabbing several items from different shelves and stuffing them in a bag which he gave to me. I peeked into the bag, inside were several boxes of chocolate truffles, four Hershey's bars, and one of those little solar powered flowers that waves when you place it in the sun. "It's not much, but it’s something to remember me by."

"I'll savor every chocolate, Dan. I'm gonna miss ya, have an awesome life buddy!" I waved as I pushed my way out the door, "I hope you get your daughter back!"

"Thank you, Marty! Take care of yourself! I hope things get better for you!" Dan waved back and I left the pharmacy behind, muttering to myself as I walked down the street to the motel.

"I hope things get better too."

~Hey Alice, do you want to play? The Queen's great (or so it's been said) Hey Alice, can you play croquet? If you're good, you can keep your head

Hey Alice, are you here or there Or somewhere in between? Hey Alice, would you ever dare To go back through where you've been?

Hey Alice, time is running short This can't take too long Make a choice now. On which side of the door Do you feel you belong?~

Lyrics from: Hey Alice by Rachel Rose Mitchell

[kate837]

I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

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Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

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Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

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"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

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Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

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First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

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The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

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The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

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The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

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Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

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[janekfan]

aah i just sent this prompt but tumblr told me it didn't send so if it sent twice ignore this!! so prompt: how about early s2, where jon is pulling away a bit but the others are concerned about it more than angry, getting a horrific migraine. like "has to leave a team meeting early" horrific. and the others know he wants to be left alone and try to respect it, but eventually they can't just ignore it anymore. <3 if you don't like this i can try again!

Oof, migraines. Amiright??? This is based on a personal experience of mine I had in college :D

My whole floor thought I was dying and almost dragged me to the hospital.

Thank you @taylortut as always for giving me such great ideas! :D

Looking back, Jon felt incredibly foolish.

Insisting that he could persist through his day without taking medication for headaches when it resulted in the same outcome every time was the very definition of insanity.

But, in his flimsy defense, they never started out badly and he got so caught up in his work that by the time he realized what was happening, it was far, far too late to do anything but suffer it out until it ended. Which is how he found himself here, now, nearly completely blind in his right eye while Elias droned on about workplace safety and considering recent events it seemed laughably mundane because yes, back strain from lifting incorrectly certainly outweighed a sentient worm queen trying to devour your assistants.

Filled with a desperate desire to rub away the disorientating blind spot, Jon let his focus slip over his employees.

Tim: bored. Not doing anything to hide it and Jon supposed he was at fault for that too, because he was certainly not paying Elias any mind.

Sasha: attentive. Most likely thinking of something else entirely while she nodded along to the lecture notes at the appropriate places.

Martin: engrossed. Despite his suspicions, mostly due to the constant checking in with him about how he was feeling, and really, maybe that was on him because maybe that’s what coworkers did after bravely surviving an onslaught of supernatural entities together. Despite them, he found it. Pleasant? Pleasant. That he would commit the effort to pay such careful attention.

Jon: quickly realizing this meeting would not be finished by the time the majority of the pain struck him like an oncoming lorry. By his estimations, based on when he first noticed the aura as a funny spot in his peripheral he tried to see around, he had roughly three minutes left.

Elias continued to endlessly intone while the buzzing lights continued to beat down on him and Jon fought against closing his eyes against them both and their ceaseless stabbing. Two minutes. Probably less and the anxiety which accompanied knowing almost exactly when he was about to be incapacitated rose like a tide and threatened to drag him under. Jon began to shake minutely as the agony manifested like an icepick in the back of his head and spread its grasping, greedy fingers. It took the rest of his very limited restraint to stay silent and keep breathing; shallow and slow, controlled and careful because the nausea was beginning to set in and throwing up during a staff meeting was at the very least, unwise.

But oh he needed somewhere silent, somewhere he could hide in total darkness and not move until he was able to force himself to sleep, to sleep, to sleep because that was the only way he’d found to make it through to the other side.

“Jon?” He was standing, blinking unevenly, fighting with himself and his desire to shield his face with both hands. The sound of his name was too loud. So loud and the murmuring of the others in the room created a beautiful sensory nightmare and if they knew his head was about to split open would they really be speaking so loudly? Doubtful. Martin. Martin wouldn’t at least.

“I’m leaving.” Inadequate, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to elaborate even if in his right mind he wouldn’t. And this wasn’t even the worst of it.

Each step was a rung up the ladder of agony and he’d taken to trailing a hand against the wall, not trusting his quickly dwindling balance and equilibrium. Rudely, without his express permission, a sob snuck past his clenched teeth and he just had to make it down the stairs, into the archives. Into the dark. The cot was still in document storage and the room would be dim and quiet and he could sleep. Please, let him sleep. Trembling so badly he could barely work the door handle, desperation doing its level best to claw its way through his ribcage, Jon began to panic. Gently, gently, gently, he closed the door behind him, trying to breathe because not breathing would make it worse. The buttons at his throat were so tight, the vest, while comfortable this morning was strangling him and he fought his way out of it like a tiger before all but tearing open his collar.

Sh. Shh. You’re alright. Shaky. Ill. But alright and you will be alright. Jon collapsed to the cot, sighing at the momentary relief laying down provided but there was still so much light and it was like glass behind his eyes even though they were closed as tightly as he dared close them. The blanket that had been left behind was very contradictory, too much and not nearly enough, and when it brushed the bare skin of his arms it felt like sandpaper but he wanted more of it. More weight so he could relax without feeling as though he was going to drift away because who even knew which way was up anymore? If he hadn’t left the meeting, he could’ve asked.

Don’t cry. Do. Not. Jonathan Sims. It made it worse, so much worse so he kept his tears trapped behind a false calm. Each time he’d thought he would die from one of these or at the very least prefer it and each time he woke the next day groggy and sore and exhausted, useless for anything except more sleep. He dropped his glasses on the floor, hugged his middle with one arm and threw the other over his face.

Please, please, please.

Just go to sleep.

“I’ll thank the rest of you for continued attention.” Martin nodded absently, worried. Jon didn’t just walk out of meetings. And he’d been so pale, rubbing his temple and wincing. A bad headache? He got those sometimes.

Didn’t like to be bothered about them either.

He caught Tim staring at him over the table, done with his paperclip sculpture for now it seemed, and he nodded just slightly toward the door with a questioning look. Martin just shrugged discreetly, now too distracted to pay attention to whatever Elias deemed important enough to waste their time with after an attack on the archives. Needless to say, the rest of the hour passed excruciatingly slow and as soon as they were released, Martin headed straight for Jon’s office, momentarily confused when it was empty.

“Not there?” Martin shook his head and Tim frowned in concern. “The cot? Maybe he needed a lie down?”

“You’re probably right.”

“Still strange.” He nodded in agreement, already headed to check, knocking quietly on the worn wood.

“Jon?” Martin swore he heard something suspiciously like a whimper before his voice floated through the door.

“Yes, Martin?” It was strange, off, wavery? The tail end of a gasping breath.

“You just, you left in such a hurry.” He’d give anything to open the door and see for himself. “Are you feeling well?”

“I’m. Yes, Martin, I’m, I’m alright.” Jon was many things, a good liar was not one of them, but he was the type to lick his wounds alone, preferring not to show any vulnerability and Martin would respect it. “Bit tired.”

“Okay, I’ll. Check on you in a bit then. Bring some tea.”

“Yes, alright.” Despite his worry, Martin smiled at the tiny familiar spark of frustration.

When Martin spoke his voice seemed to echo in the hollows of Jon’s bones, reverberating into his head and only exacerbating the throbbing pain, not even really aware of what he was saying, just trying to get him to go away so he could be as still as possible in silence. The more he moved, the more it felt like his stomach was trying to turn inside out and the fear of moving, of being sick, of causing himself more hurt, made tears sting at the corners of his eyes, made him itch where they slipped down his face.

If it would just stop for a moment. If he could just fall asleep. Calm down. Stand to have anything against his skin right now.

He wanted to be alone and not be alone. Wanted Martin or Tim or Sasha to, to, he didn’t know, just wanted. The strange disconnect from his physical body was maddening, confusing, and he wanted so badly for it to please stop.

When Martin looked up, Sasha was so close to his desk he startled. He hadn’t heard her but she looked worried.

“I don’t think Jon is feeling very well.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“He’s been in there all day.” Tim joined them. “Maybe we should check on him again?” Martin looked at the clock. It had been hours since he’d talked to him and he had yet to reappear.

“You’re probably right.” This time, it was definitely a hurting sound and Martin decided it was for Jon’s own good to let himself in. He’d only just recovered from Prentiss, what if the stress had made him ill? “Jon?” He was curled into himself on the cot, clothes in disarray, vest discarded and half the blanket piled atop his face. When the door closed, Jon clapped his hand over his ear, the other tangled into his button down so tight Martin was afraid he’d pop the buttons. “You’re shaking.”

“Mmartin…” the barest exhale, pleading. “S’loud…so...so loud…”

“Okay, okay, what’s wrong?” He knelt beside him, resting his hand over Jon’s. “How can I help?”

“Jus’...jus’ need t’sleep.” Shuddering, his breath caught, was released, uneven, fast, gasping. “Can’t.” He decided at that moment that sound should never come from Jon again, not if ever he could help it and the fingers that had been digging into his greying hair were now clutching Martin’s.

“Okay. I’m coming back.” Jon seemed to collapse inward like a star and it was hard to leave him but he’d seen migraines before and it had been hours since what he guessed was the onset. “Tim, do you have any paracetamol?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Jon’s not well, of course.”

“Figures.”

“This time I really think it wasn’t his fault. These things sometimes come on suddenly.” Tim grumbled, digging through his desk and heading with Martin to the breakroom for some water, waiting while he brewed a strong black tea.

“He gets a pass. One time, Martin. This one time.” While the tea cooled Martin retrieved a few cloths from the drawer and a bowl of water.

“He needs quiet. Everything is really overwhelming right now. A lot of input and nowhere for it to go.”

“You’re the boss, Marto.” With a jaunty salute, Tim followed, staying calm and quiet, kneeling down to Jon’s level before whispering a greeting. “Hey. Gonna get you fixed right up.”

“Nnng…okay.”

“Jon? We’re going to help you sit up.” With no refusal forthcoming, Tim and Martin shared a look of alarm before lifting him as though he were made of spun glass and he buried his face in Martin’s soft, well worn jumper. “Good, Jon.” Martin pressed his palm against his forehead and found it cold and a little clammy, his clothes clung slightly with sweat and it seemed like he had trouble coordinating his limbs.

“Hur’s…” trembling, his muscles spasmed randomly, and Tim had to help hold his hand steady enough for a dose of paracetamol while Martin followed quickly with the bitter tea, washing the taste away with a sip of water.

“Okay, love. Doing such a good job. Almost done.” More tears. He went to nod, instead ending up with his head hanging, neck too tired to hold it up any longer and Martin eased him back down onto the pillow. “Let me know if this is too much.” He wrung out a flannel and smoothed it over his eyes, pleased when Jon groaned in slight relief. Tim stroked his hair, soft and slow, and together they waited, watched his shivering gradually stop and his breath deepen into sleep.

Sasha met them outside the door and Martin stepped further down the hall, just in case they were loud enough to wake him.

“Well?”

“He’s asleep, bad migraine.” Martin winced in sympathy, “and hopefully he’ll sleep through until morning.”

“That’s a relief.” Collectively, they agreed. Jon had been under a lot of pressure lately and while he’d never been one to confide in them often even those moments were becoming rare

Jon felt heavy, tired and slow, and when Martin opened the door with a mug of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, he reasoned that he hadn’t dreamt the entirety of the day previous. Which meant he did sit through most of Elias’ dry speech about safety.

Embarrassing. To have walked out like that.

“Martin.” The memory of gentle hands and a soft voice made him flush.

“Jon, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, uh, much better. Thank you.” Sitting up was only somewhat a chore, the dizziness faded into the background for the most part. The fogginess was expected and would last a few days but for now he accepted the tea graciously, eyed the toast suspiciously, and settled on another round of painkillers and a few mouthfuls until he thought he might be pushing it. “Thank you, Martin.” He’d been in a bad way and at his wit’s end before he and Tim essentially rescued him. Passing back the empty mug and setting the remaining toast aside, Jon decided he deserved a lie in especially considering he was in that fragile inbetween where turning his head too fast would trigger another one. “If you see Tim before me, would you pass on my gratitude?”

“‘Course I will” Martin retrieved the dishes and turned back before closing the door. “Sleep well, Jon.”

[mangomochi-yn]

[did i change your mind?]

aoba johsai. iwaizumi hajime x reader

g. kinda confusing fluff but fluff nonetheless

tw. hajime is shooketh   wc. 1.6k

If there was one thing you and Hajime never got along with, it would definitely be the topic of why one gets into a relationship. 

'If you like them—go ahead' was your thinking while as for Hajime— 'only if you like them enough to want to settle'. Maybe this was the whole reason why you two weren’t as close as two childhood friends should be. 

But when that third childhood friend, Tooru, suddenly asks you to fill in for him as Hajime’s plus one to a wedding, well things get kinda messy. 

And it all started when you asked him one thing, just as the bride and groom exchanges their vows and shares a kiss— 

“But isn’t it the heartbreaks that make true love oh so much sweeter in the end?”

"Hah? What the heck are you talking about in the middle of the wedding?" Your brows furrow at the fact that Hajime seems to have already forgotten what you two were debating about earlier. 

"You said 'why do people even get into relationships when they have no plans on settling'." He finally at least slightly looks in your direction. Maybe it was the fact that you were borderline whisper-shouting by now?

"Okay and?" You sigh, really you could never hold a proper conversation with this boy.

"And that's my reply— it's the heartbreaks that make the end game so much better isn't it? Kinda like gaining experience in a game so that the reward is so much better in the end." At the sound of the guests clapping along to congratulate the newly wedded couple, you two stand up as well, you never tearing your gaze from the boy though.

"I can't believe you're comparing it to a game." Jokes on him, he was the one that didn't even like saying the word love, pretty immature for someone that was so adamant against getting into casual relationships.

"How else would I get it into that thick brain of yours then? I would have thought of a volleyball phrase if I had more time." Finally, you look towards the groom and bride, clapping along with the rest of the guests as a smile adorns your face.

You said what you felt you needed to say, so maybe that's why you hadn't noticed how the spiky-haired boy was staring at you in awe— thinking deep about what you had said.

"Oi, Shittykawa, why do you get into a relationship?" Said boy's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he stared at his best friend. Was he seriously asking him that? In the middle of a water break at practice?

"Eh? Are you and Y/N-chan in one of those little debates again?" Bullseye but not quite. Hajime actually hadn't noticed how he asked Oikawa that question.

The only thought in his mind was how he saw you earlier that day, it had been already a week after the wedding, yet your words still stuck in the back of his head — brought forward as he saw you walking around school— clinging to a boy he's never seen's left arm as well. 

He didn't want to admit it but for the first time in how many years, you were slowly driving him crazy. He found himself wanting to know everything that was on your mind, every nook and every cranny. 

"Oh! Y/N-chan, what brings you here?" Oikawa's booming voice echoes against the gym floors— effectively snapping Hajime out of his thoughts at the mention of your name.

"Hey, Tooru! I'm here to ask you about our one english project—" Sending a small wave to Hajime, he couldn't help but just stare at the way your eyes crinkled as you smile.

"—did I change your mind?" Wait, were you talking to him now? His eyes almost bulge as he racks his brain for an answer to your vague question. Did he change his mind about why people should get into relationships?

"—I told you I could do your part for the project if you promise to give me that milk bread recipe your mom always makes, so let me know if you’ll do it, Tooru."

Oh, but what a fool he was.

Noticing how your gaze was back at the captain's, Hajime's face turns a gushing red at how worked up he got by himself from assuming you were talking to him.

It wasn't until he heard your laughter at something the captain said did Hajime burst out his seat on the bench to march towards the locker room and wash his face to drown his senses.

"Oh and I accidentally made extra onigiris for you and Haji—" The bang of the locker room's doors were what made you aware of your other friend's sudden outburst.

"What was that?" Oikawa just shrugs. "He's been moody all day." But then as if a lightbulb went off his head, Oikawa then suddenly starts pushing you towards the locker room, a big smile on his face. You came to learn that that was never good news.

"Maybe he's just hungry, Y/N-chan! You should give him those onigiris and he'll probably feel better." You knew for sure that Hajime wasn't the type to lash out because of hunger, but before you could even argue back at your troublesome friend, you had already been shoved into the empty locker room, the door clicking locked behind you.

"I'm gonna murder Tooru, I swear." Deciding if you should just stay by the door until someone eventually opens it, you were finally greeted by the only other person in the room— half naked nonetheless.

You could only stare as he gazes at your form hunched by the door. After blinking for a few moments and seeing your cheeks turn a red hue, Hajime finally shuffles to wear a shirt, leaving you a blushing mess.

"Did Shittykawa shove you in here?" His voice was a bit gruffly but soft nonetheless, finally easing some of your nerves down.

"Uh.. yeah. He said that you might've been in a bad mood cause you were... hungry." How you made it sound more stupid than Oikawa himself, you didn't know.

But at least it didn't seem to offend or bother Hajime, instead he stared at your face with that pensive look in his eyes as if a million and one thoughts were all scrambling in his brain. 

And they were.

As he sees you stand there in front of him, a small bento in hand, Hajime couldn't escape the thoughts that plagued him since that day of the wedding.

"Dating someone just because you like them..." His voice came out a whisper you almost couldn't tell if you heard him right. Was he... thinking about what you said at the wedding? That's impossible, right?

"Uhh.. I accidentally made extra onigiris and brought some for you and Tooru." He only stares at your outstretched arms, waiting for him to take the small bento from your grasp. 

"Um but actually you can have them all. That stupid Tooru and his crazy ideas shouldn't get any—"

"I wanna try it." Thank god, you thought you were going to have to ramble off for the tension to ease.

"Oh, they're just normal onigiris, here—"

"I wanna try dating someone just because I like them."

Oh shit, he wasn't talking about the onigiris.

Wait... so is he saying he likes someone at the moment? And that he wanted to try dating them?

"Um, well good luck at that I guess then." You start to scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, earning a look of confusion from Hajime.

Did he want you to teach him or something? Did your childhood friend and one-sided crush of how many years really want you to teach him how to date someone else?

"You asked me if I changed my mind and that's your only reply?" Okay, now he was really getting confusing. It didn't help that he was starting to walk your way now, the doors were still locked, you couldn't exactly escape.

"When did I—" Then it dawns on you. Is that seriously why this airhead stormed out while you were talking to Tooru earlier?

"I was talking to Tooru, Hajime." 

"I know, but I couldn't help but think you were actually asking me too." By now, he had you trapped at a corner right by the door, your heart was beating at your chest. When did that start happening?

From this far you could actually smell the musk of his cologne, his eyes looked sharper than they were, and for a split second you were sure he was going to ravage you. Until—

"I wanna try it too— the heartbreak."

"Pfft." It catches him off guard how your once trembling expression suddenly easily turns into that of amusement. Your laugh lightly echoes across the room and he couldn't help but blush at your small giggles seemingly mocking him.

"That's not exactly the best way to ask someone out, Haji." Still wiping the tears off your face, his blush deepens as you shake your head. 

"But for you, is it okay?"

You would be lying if you said you expected that, but at this point anything was possible and hearing your childhood friend, your longtime one-sided crush, the boy that refused to go into a relationship unless it was to settle— hearing him ask you out so timidly was a whole new sensation in itself. 

A sensation you would be damned if you missed.

"Hmm, no, I actually take that back, Haji." His eyes widen as you loop your arms around his neck, pulling him closer despite his confusion. Yeah, you definitely couldn’t miss out on this.

"Let's scratch off that part I said about the heartbreak, Haji. Let's go straight to the ‘oh so much sweeter’ part instead."

a/n. yall are probs like what is she trying to say? where is this going? idk either guys 😪 i just thought that first dialogue was neat then i was like aight bet or whatever. sigh i did not give iwa chan justice im sorry.

a/n. everybody lets say thank you oikawa though— that little shit actually did something

[pyrten]

DNF -- Unfinished / Dropped (12/3/2021)

! Alcohol !

Yeah, I have zero idea where I'm going with this so I'll just put it here for anyone to read lol.

-------------------------------

The upbeat tune thrums through the room. Colourful lights flicker and travel across the walls, illuminating the twinkling crystals hanging from the ceiling. 

Dream doesn't acknowledge the bodies moving across the floor, in sync with the beat of the song blasting from the speakers. Instead, he sits in front of the bar, swirling the liquid in his glass, watching as the bartender attends to the influx of orders from excited (and possibly drunk) customers. 

He decided to stream today, on his birthday. Perhaps he regrets it, seeing how he's sitting in a club, savouring the burn of alcohol instead of dancing, being with his family or going out with friends. It feels awfully awkward as he's always sure of what he feels. 

The bartender places another glass in front of him and he nods as thanks. He takes a sip from the glass and tugs at the collar of his shirt, sighing as his throat burns.

His mind feels a tad bit hazy. Placing the glass onto the countertop, he scans the scene around him. A couple making out in the corner, the whoops of excited teenagers who aren't supposed to be allowed in, the barely-there smell of sweat lingering in the air as bodies move across the floor and brown eyes locking gazes with him as he pauses. The tapping of his fingers on the countertop stops while he stares. 

The man challenges his stare with his own. 

The darkness surrounding the room really doesn't help. Lights occasionally illuminate the man's face, but it's too quick and Dream is only able to catch a glimpse. 

The man swirls his own drink, silently taking a sip as he finally tears his gaze away from Dream's. He does the same, turning his head to focus on the glass he's gripping onto, once again reaching to tug at his collar as he downs the liquid. 

He feels a tingle traveling down his spine. It's barely there but he feels it. Dream squeezes his eyes shut. "It's probably the alcohol," he thinks. "And the generally overwhelming day." 

He tries to focus on anything other than the glittering brown eyes that tugged at his heart and pulled his attention. He hears the chair scraping against the floor from his left and he stubbornly stares at the bottle of rum sitting on the rack in front of him. 

Hiding the lower half of his face with his hand, he sighs. The man probably lost interest. There isn't any reason for him to be nervous. 

Slowly, he gathers his courage as he turns to face the person who took a seat next to him. The least he could do is acknowledge them, for manner's sake. 

Immediately, his words die on his tongue and he's left speechless as he's faced with pale looking skin, soft lips and those mesmerising brown eyes. 

The man gives him a shy smile and looks away, waving the bartender over to order his drink, a huge contrast with the challenging gaze Dream went against a minute ago. 

"Y-you… um… hey," Dream mumbles out, frantically glancing around, trying to find something he could focus on instead of the man seated next to him. He's dumbfounded. How did he turn into a puddle within seconds? Did the alcohol affect him that badly? 

The man glances at him while ordering his drink. Dream awkwardly shuffles in his seat, tracing the rim of his glass with his finger. 

"Hey." 

Dream stops his actions and lifts his head to face the man. He's met with a warm smile and his heart flutters. Immediately, he hides his cough with his hand. He feels a flush making its way up his neck and he hopes the man doesn't notice. 

He offers a smile and lifts his drink to take a sip, hoping it'll give him some courage and ease him. "It's a busy night, isn't it?" He starts. A simple question. 

"It is," the man agrees, looking around while playing with the umbrella that came with his drink. An awkward silence grows between them as Dream tries to formulate a response that could continue the conversation. 

"Your name...?" The man asks, letting the question hang in the air. 

"Dream," he supplies, offering a hand out. 

A small giggle slips past the man's lips and a warm hand, smaller than his, grips his hand. They shake on it and Dream starts to feel more comfortable. 

"George," he replies. 

George savours the touch as Dream slowly pulls his hand away. He keeps the smile on his face, politely thanking the bartender as they hand him his drink. 

He takes a sip, trying to hide his smile. He watches as Dream chuckles and scratches his neck, eyes frantically looking everywhere but him. "That's cute."  

"You have an accent," Dream starts and George perks up. "Are you from the UK?" 

He shifts in his seat, positioning himself so that he's facing Dream instead of the countertop. "I am. I'm visiting here. Family, you know?" 

Dream lets out a chuckle and George is glad that he looks more relaxed than before. George notices as Dream leans closer, perhaps unconsciously and an alarm goes off in his mind. He ignores it. 

A forlorn smile settles on Dream's face. "That's cool. How do you find it here?" 

George giggles. That's such a dumb question. It's not like he's visiting Florida for the first time. "I visit here every few months or so. It's definitely warmer compared to England. The beaches are too crowded for my liking though." 

His heart stutters when Dream breaks into a laugh, not a nervous chuckle or an awkward giggle (although, they're both adorable), a full, hearty laugh that slightly resembles a tea kettle. Dream's cheeks are rosy, his face flushed and George silently takes it in, red slowly colouring his face. 

"There's more to Florida than beaches, George. You can't tell me that when you've visited a few times," Dream says, pressing his drink to his cheek, smiling. George masks his blush with his hand, giggling. 

"Well, I'm telling you that my family and I don't go out often," he replies. 

Dream snorts, feeling better than he was before. His cheeks hurt from all the smiling and laughing. 

"I really don't know how to reply other than to offer to show you around," Dream says hesitantly, placing the empty glass onto the countertop. 

George covers his blush with his hand, eyes widening for a split second. He chews his bottom lip nervously, letting the thought jump around until he settles on a conclusion. 

"Dance with me while I think about it?" George asks, smiling shyly. 

Dream gently drags him to the dancefloor as he reaches to place his drink on the countertop, giggling. 

George holds onto Dream's bicep as they twirl around each other and gracefully avoid bumping into other people. The strobe lights start flickering at an alarming speed, throwing them into darkness every few seconds. George pulls Dream closer, their breaths intermingling. He could barely make out the flecks of brown in those jasmine green (he presumes) eyes. 

His breath hitches as a warm hand cups the nape of his neck and his mind blanks when he hears the whisper next to his ear. "Made up your mind yet?" Dream asks. 

The entire club is plunged into darkness as gasps arise from the crowd. The music stops and he looks around in confusion. Someone grabs onto his forearm and guides him through the crowd, ushering him out the exit.  

George shivers at the sudden rush of warm air and the grip on his forearm loosens. He hears the jingle of keys and looks at Dream while shrugging off his blazer, raising an eyebrow. 

Dream gestures towards a car, an awkward smirk playing on his lips. "The offer still stands…" he trails off. "Unless you want to head back in, which is fine. Maybe you came with a friend and they're probably worried. Or maybe another…" he starts rambling. 

George laughs, bright and unfiltered and Dream stops his rambling to grin. He  unlocks the doors and George slides into the passenger seat while Dream, into the driver's seat.   

They're on the road within minutes. Serene music drifts through the car, contrasting the upbeat music they danced to several minutes ago. Lamp posts and shops blur past them, giving George a slight sense of numbness. "This is such a bad idea," George mumbles but he can't help but smile. He can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, his fingers curl around the fabric of his button up shirt. 

Dream giggles, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the tune of the song playing. "Tell me to stop and I will," he says, staring at the road ahead. "Do you have any specific place you want to visit? Or prefer?" 

George shrugs, leaning against his palm while staring at Dream. "You're the one who offered. Anything will do. I'm only staying for… 12 more hours before my flight back." His eyes drift from the window to Dream, whose eyes are focused on the road. "Make it worth it." 

-------------------------------

[blueeyedheizer]

All Over Again - Matt (part 1)

WARNINGS: mention of a car accident, memory loss

A/N: Here it is ! The first part to my 3 or 4 parts fic. :) I know this trope is far from being original but I wanted to give it a go. Also this was originally supposed to be a one shot but the more I was writing, the more I got ideas so I decided to split it into a multiple part fics. let me know what you think xx

----

Matt was supposed to have been home from practice 2 hours ago. It was almost midnight and you were worried sick, pacing around the house and looking out the window every two minutes. You didn't think much of it at first and figured he had stayed in the studio a little longer to work on more songs, but after an hour you began to worry. You had tried calling his bandmates, but according to them he had left practice on time with everyone else.

“Did he seem upset during practice?” You questioned through the phone, biting your nails anxiously.

"It was a hard day, yeah. He kept on messing up his parts and was a bit more irritable than usual." James explains. You let out a deep, shaky sigh, one hand coming up to rest on your forehead and closing your eyes as you tried to keep your composure.

"Look James I, um- i'm sorry to bother you with this but Alex won't answer the phone either, do you think they might have gone to a pub together or something?"

"Alex went straight to his girlfriend's after practice. I'm sorry love, I really don't know about Matt. But don't worry about it too much, yeah? I'm sure he's fine. You know how he can be sometimes." you nod your head repeatedly, allowing a tear to slide down your cheek.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Thanks anyway James." you croak out before saying goodbye and ending the call. You had thought of calling Javed, but you knew it was already late and there was no way his dad would've let Matt in at such an hour. Your heart was beating insanely fast inside your chest and you were feeling like you could break down at any moment, the worst thoughts occupying your mind.

You eventually decided to lay down on the couch and play your favorite movie to try and get rid of the nagging voice in your head. Maybe he just went on a walk to clear his mind and stopped by a pub nearby. He might have met up with some friends there, which would explain why he was so late.

After a little while you heard the sound of the front door open. You immediately shot up, running over the door as Matt walked in. He didn't seem hurt at all, which was relieving. But you were still upset.

"Where the hell have you been?! Do you have any idea what time it is?!" he doesn't say anything and walks straight past you. "Matt, what's going on?!" you call after him as he makes his way to your shared bedroom.

"Why aren't you in bed?" he says coldly, completely ignoring your previous questions

"Because it's fucking midnight and my boyfriend who was supposed to be home two hours ago didn't show any sign of life until now!" you say and he scoffs. "I was worried sick, Matt!"

"I don't have a curfew to be home, Y/N. I've already had a shit day so if you could just fuck off and stop giving me unnecessary lectures I would appreciate it." you open your mouth to speak but close it again. You genuinely didn't know what to say anymore.

"Fine. Maybe I should leave and go have fun on my own somewhere then, since we don't have a curfew."

"Yeah, good. Leave. Maybe I'll finally get some peace and quiet." he spat.

With that, you turn around and walk out, grabbing your coat and car keys on your way. You storm out the front door, slamming it back close behind you and run straight to your car, silent tears leaving your eyes as you do.

You weren't sure how it happened.

Tears were blurring your vision as you drove to your best friend’s. You knew that she would gladly let you in, no matter what time of night you showed up, plus she wasn't the type to go to sleep early. You hated driving at night, but you needed to get some fresh air, you needed to get away from Matt. 

You eventually began to regret your decision of leaving as the fog covered your vision more than it already was with your tears. But it was too late to come back, and you still weren't ready to face him after what had just happened. He wanted to be alone, then he was going to get his alone time. Your hand gripped the wheel tightly as you wiped your cheeks and eyes furiously, but no matter how hard you tried to calm down and focus on the road, the tears would come back and blur your vision.

And before you had the chance to react to what was coming in front of you, you felt a violent collision, and your world went black.

Matt knew something was wrong the moment his dad burst into his room in a panic the next morning.

"Dad?! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?!" he yelled.

It was barely 7am when he got a call from the hospital letting him know that you had been taken there after a car accident. He was in shock, barely able to let any words out. You were like a daughter to him, so the news were hard to swallow. All he did since he burst into the room was to blurt out your name along with barely coherent words between breathless pants.

"Dad? What is it? What's wrong with Y/N?!" Matt said, immediately jumping out of bed. He grabbed his clothes and put them on quickly, waiting for an answer.

"She got– she in an accident last night. It's bad." he managed to get out.

Matt's heart stopped beating for a moment as he tried to comprehend what he was being told. Everything around him seemed to have stopped as the events from yesterday flashed through his mind. He stared at his dad, speechless, his face suddenly draining of all color as his eyes filled with tears. He was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt and he felt the whole air being knocked out of him. His heartbeat picked up and the room soon felt too suffocating. He couldn't breathe, the room was spinning, his ears ringing.

His dad grabbed his face with both hands to keep him grounded him then pat his cheek slightly.

"Come on now, we have to go. She needs you, son." He said, keeping a steady gaze on him. Matt snapped out of his daze and stormed out of the room, his dad following closely. He grabbed the car keys on his way and they both headed to the hospital in a hurry. Of course Matt’s dad insisted on driving, knowing that his son was in no way able to focus on the road in this state.

By the time they got there, Matt's eyes and face were bright red from how much he had been crying. He was out the door before the car even came to a complete stop, rushing into the emergency section of the building.

He burst through the front doors and begun looking around, trying to find a nurse, a doctor or anyone that could tell him about your condition. A nurse came out of one of the many rooms and he rushed towards her, tears still streaming down his cheeks as he asked where you were.

"Could you tell me her name again?" she asked, gently placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He nodded and repeated, trying to keep it together. The nurse lead him to the reception, searched through her papers then looked up after a few seconds.

"She's in surgery right now so I can’t let you go see her just yet. We're doing the best we can to keep her alive, but from what I know she got into a pretty bad accident, and this kind of surgery requires hours and hours of work." she continues and he nods, trying not to completely break down in front of her. She gives him more details about the surgery before leading him to the waiting room where your family and some friends of yours were waiting.

three days later.

''It's been over half an an hour...'' Matt finally spoke up, breaking the silence as he paced anxiously around the waiting room. "Someone should be able to tell us something by now.''

''I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Matt." Javed answered softly in an attempt to comfort both himself and Matt. Matt sighed and nodded before he finally sat down in the space between James and Javed. No one was speaking. Everyone avoided eye contact, too busy being lost in their own thoughts, moving their legs anxiously. Matt however couldn't stay still, but no one could blame him. He had been staying with you every day since you got there, even though you weren't awake, and now that they finally had some news they wouldn't let him see you. Family first.

He fidgeted and bit his lips nervously, the worst thoughts constantly occupying his mind. He buried his face in his hands, more tears falling down his face. Needless to say, no one had ever seen him like this before. He looked extremely tired and sleep-deprived, and the guilt was eating him alive. Javed placed a comforting hand on his back.

"You need to stop blaming yourself, Matt. This is not your fault." he says. "She’s going to be okay."

“It is my fault, J. If I hadn’t come home so late and told her to leave...—” he chokes, opening his mouth before closing it again. "She went out because of me. She's here because of me. If she had died—" he starts, but James interrupts him.

"But she's alive, mate. That's all that matters right now. You can't take back what you said or did, but you still have time with her to make it up."

As he was about to stand up and start pacing around again, Matt's head shot up at the sound of footsteps coming towards the waiting room. In a matter of seconds he was on his feet and your mom was at the door with a small forced smile and wet cheeks, a nurse standing beside her.

''Miss Y/L/N is awake.'' the nurse said. "You can see her, but you all should know that she's showing signs of amnesia." everyone's face dropped as they took in the information. "We do not know whether it is permanent or temporary. She remembers her mother and her name but couldn't tell us today's date, whether it is day, month or year. I just want you all to be prepared in case she has a hard time remembering any of you, which could be a possibility." Everyone in the room nodded then started hugging each other to express a deep relief along with sorrow. After three days of constant fear and sleepless nights, you were awake. But then, there was the possibility of you not remembering them. Matt hugged your mom tightly before they all followed the nurse into your room. His heart started racing as he thought about all the things he wanted to say to you. He didn't think apologies would be enough.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts when he reached the door to your room, his heart aching at the sight of his girlfriend laying on a hospital bed.

You were slightly startled when the door to your room opened again, your nurse walking in along with a bunch of people you couldn't quite recognise as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your entire body felt numb. You tried to sit further up, but your were immediately stopped by a striking pain coming from your ribs. You lifted your hand in an attempt to scratch your head but you were surprised to feel a bandage under your fingertips and see one wrapped around your wrist. Confused, you realized the upper part of your body was bandaged, but you couldn’t quite figure out why.

"Hello again, Y/N." your nurse smiled "Some people are here to see you. Could you tell me if you recognise any of them?"

Vision still blurry, you frowned and attempted to turn your head to the right. You let out a small groan, the movement triggering an ache.

"Take your time, there is no rush." the nurse says.

Then someone took a seat next to you and grabbed a hold of your hand that wasn't bandaged. You eventually managed to take a proper look at your surroundings, looking around yourself. Your mom was there, along with Javed.

"Um...well, there's mom again. And Javed." you spoke weakly. A small smile curved your lips when you saw him. You two had been friends since 6th grade. You then looked at the two boys behind him. "I don't think I know you." you spoke with a frown." James and Alex's faces dropped a little, but they were kind of expecting it. You weren't as close with them as you were with Javed, so you had fewer memories of them and more forgettable ones.

Then you met the other boy's eyes, the one sitting beside you.

You said nothing while staring at him before realising that he was holding onto your hand which you slowly pried away from him. Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. His nose, his hair, his lips. Then his eyes. You looked into them, trying to find any form of familiarity, but there was none. Why was he holding your hand?

"Y/N?" he says, his voice weak. You could tell he was fighting back tears. You frowned again, lips parting in confusion. You gave your mom a worried glance before looking back at him.

"I...I'm sorry but, am I supposed to know you?"

[green-and-grey-kenaz]

Nightmares in the Dark

Language: English

Characters: Regulus Black, Severus Snape, Barty Crouch Jr.

Summary: Deep in the Slytherin Dorms, a secret is kept. With many students joining as soon as they’re of age, nightmares are not uncommon and sooner than later, everyone knows who’s the latest to become a Death Eater. Regulus is just the latest in a long line.

A fic exploring Death Eater Ideology and Severus Snape showing some teaching skills. 

Word Count: c. 3 000

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32790574

There was a secret that was kept in the dark dungeons of Slytherin. In their underground dorms, looking out into the depths of the lake, they held it safely in the bonds of fraternity. It did not matter whether you agreed with it or not, everyone knew what would happen if you dared to whisper the truth to any but one of their number. Yet the secret was not held in fear, but rather out of love for each other. It was a fierce protection.

The year was 1977 and Regulus Black writhed in his bed, sweat soaking his brow, causing black strands of hair to stick to his face as eyes flickered wildly behind sealed lids.

"Do you think we should wake him?" Whispered Octavian Flint, staring at the pale figure on the bed. The rest of the dorm had begun to stir as the nightmare had taken hold in Regulus and now they were all awake and watching with wide eyes.

"He can't… he's sixteen. Everyone knows you can't join until you’re of age." Muttered Rhys Nott, looking over to Octavian.

"I don't… he is a Black. Maybe he got special permission?"

"I think we should go and wake Snape." Rowan Avery said, tucking his wand away having hastily lighting candles in the hope that they would chase away the gloom. Instead they flickered, casting shadows that felt too uncomfortable when one of their dorm-mates twisted in the depths of his own mind.

Each year, someone from Seventh Year took over caring for the new recruits. Some sixth years had their seventeenth birthdays before school broke for Yule and went on the winter missions for the Dark Lord, innocent and so eager to serve. The nightmares, the sudden waking panics and paranoia would then set in, dodging the steps of students who no longer had the protection of parents and that was where the seventh year would step in. They were someone to help calm the younger recruits and provide reassurance. They were often someone from good standing and an important pureblood line but this year, the half blood Severus had stepped up. No one had expected it. He wasn't from a decent family and was generally more tolerated at the edge of circles. So far, he had not been tested - they were barely a month into the school year - and no one was particularly eager to turn to him for help.

Suddenly, Regulus let out a blood curdling scream and sat straight up in bed, grey eyes wild and flickering. In a split second, his wand was in hand, shaking and pointing into the shadows.

"Regulus, you're ok. We're at Hogwarts. We're safe." Rhys said, arms raised and honesty on his face. The wand flickered to him and Rhys stilled.

" Nein… " Regulus muttered, slipping into the tongue of his mother as he so often did when annoyed or agitated. Octavian pulled a face at Rowan, never impressed when Regulus did the whole dual language thing. Regulus did not seem to notice.

"Sie kommen, mit ihrem Krieg und Hass." He was trembling and the door burst open.

Somehow in his recently awakened status, Severus had managed to garner a strange strength and presence that the sixth years had not seen in him before. Dark eyes glittered as he swept into the room, hastily worn dressing gown fluttering as he moved.

"Why was I not summoned?" He asked, voice low and Rowan shrunk back under the gaze.

"He's sixteen." Octavian said, puffing out his chest and trying to look important. Severus barely spared him a glance as he sat down on Regulus' bed and placed a hand against his cheek.

"Listen to me, Regulus. Can you name five things you can see?"

The boy blinked and stared blankly.

"Five things you can see. Like the walls." Severus prompted. A gaggle of boys had made their way to the door, staring in with open curiosity.

"What's happened?" Asked Barty Crouch, a third year.

"He must have joined." Whispered a fifth year.

"Du… mein… my bed curtains… Octavian…" his voice shook but gathered more strength as he spoke.

"Rowan, Rhys."

"Good." Severus said. "Now four things you can feel."

"Your hand… the bed…" his hand curled around the bed sheet, the other rubbing the back of his neck, dislodging the hair clinging to him. "My skin and clothes."

"Do you need to do three things you can hear?" Severus asked. Regulus shook his head.

“I’m here.” He said. Severus nodded and removed his hand, giving the younger boy a pat on his shoulder.

“Good.  Let’s go down to the Common Room, though I don’t suspect that it’ll be any less private.” He said, glancing at the crowd of staring eyes. They scattered but judging by the footfalls, they were all heading into the Common Room. Regulus reached for his own dressing gown to throw over his night robes. In contrast to Severus’ dark dressing gown, patched in places with outgrown school robes, Regulus’ were green silk, lined with exotic furs and silver embroidery. The young Black looked every bit of pureblood prince his family would have the wizarding world believe.

They followed the boys downstairs and into the faintly glowing Common Room. A collection of female students had also assembled themselves downstairs and Regulus blushed to think that he had awakened them all. A space was cleared so he could take the grandest armchair and Regulus sank gratefully into it as Severus started to assemble a cauldron that he charmed to hover over the fire.

“Is it true?” Asked a sixth year girl, Selena, staring in open interest. “That you’ve joined?”

“On my sixteenth birthday.” Regulus confirmed, lifting his sleeve to show the Dark Mark, snaking across his arm. There was an intake of breath. A few students grinned, one patted his shoulder in congratulations, many of the younger ones looked up in awe.

“Cheat! You’re not even seventeen!” Hissed Charles. He was already of age and so far had been unsuccessful in getting his ceremony to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. He had neither name nor skill.

“He’s taking up a great burden as well as honour, lest you forget. I would not be so quick to sign up when so few can be ready for what war entails. When it comes down to it, do you think you’d be prepared to do what it takes to stop the madness of the muggles and their mania for total annihilation?” Severus asked, eyes dark as he stared down his dorm-mate.

“Muggles don’t have magic.” Charles said, callously, waving his hand and causing sparks of light to punctuate his point. He was all show and nothing to back it up.

“And they aren’t the ones sent to Azkaban if they use magic to defend themselves from physical blows. It's not just them you have to fear.”

“As if that would bother me. I could take muggles on without magic, then let the aurors try to stop me.” Charles laughed.

“You didn’t seem so brave when you took that bludger.” Regulus replied. Barty snickered. Charles was a beater but for all his strength, he had whimpered and whined when a bludger caught him. The dorm might have been more sympathetic if he hadn’t had a go at the former keeper only a year ago over the same hit.

“That’s different.”

“Yes, it's just a game.” Severus’ voice was short as he stirred the potion.

“Besides, it doesn’t even compare with what the muggles are doing… what they’re trying to achieve.” Regulus shuddered, his eyes haunted.

“What’s that?” Asked a first year, wide eyed as she looked up at the older students who had gone stony faced.

“Dad says they won’t. Nobody would be that stupid.” Barty said hesitantly, looking towards Severus and Regulus. Despite his youth, he knew more about the dangers of the muggles than his peers. The older students could well see that the young Crouch would join them sooner or later. He just needed to get over trusting his father.

“They already dropped two.” Regulus said softly.

“That was ages ago. They’ve not done it since.” Another student, Nyx, pipped up.

“Dropped what?”

“Atom bombs. They’re weapons that explode, killing many in one go, worse than the bombs they used in their World Wars. Our government would have us think that the killing curse is bad because it takes one life yet they do nothing about muggles who can take more with a push of a button. Muggles don’t even need to look into the eyes of those they’ve killed. Don’t need to see that moment of fear before...” Regulus broke off, staring deep into the flames of the fire.

“It’s still not going to happen. No one would risk it. Doesn’t make muggles alright but that talk of a nuclear war… the threat of another world war… they wouldn’t be so stupid.” Nyx said firmly. Regulus said nothing and Severus was focused on his cauldron so Rhys answered.

“Tensions are rising, it's only a matter of time. Besides, we cannot let them continue with their way of life and their idiotic ideas. Did you know your fathers wouldn’t be allowed in Muggle society?”

“What?”

“Same sex marriages are illegal in most muggle societies.” Rhys explained. “They’re also fighting to have equal rights for women. While we’ve had plenty of Ministers of Magic who are women, they’ve yet to have one.”

“That’s crazy.” A Slytherin second year muttered, wrinkling her nose.

“Dad still says that we should try to work with them. Try to subtly change their minds. That things like the raids are just going to make us as bad.” Barty said, carefully reciting the propaganda his father liked to feed him.

“No. We’ll never be as bad as them.” Regulus snapped. The room fell quiet, eyes upon him, but he had retreated back into himself.

“But Unforgivable Curses … they’re… well, unforgivable.” Barty said into the uncomfortable silence.

“The Dark Lord… he’s neither blind nor ignorant. He has scoured the world, looking to understand muggles and why wizarding societies across the globe remain in hiding. He’s collected memories. There’s one from Hiroshima, where an atom bomb fell, more memories captured from the witch trials of America where even though our kind managed to escape, they faced such humiliation. Even memories from witches and wizards who tried to save their families from soldiers flying the flag of Britain, who just mowed them down with flying metal. You need little evidence that our cause is just after witnessing those memories. Muggles are a plague left unchecked. Once we’re in charge, we can fix all these problems and make the world a safer place.”

“I don’t think I’m going to sleep.” The first year said, voice trembling.

“I knew muggles were bad…” A fourth year shook their head sadly.

“Then why isn’t our government doing anything?” Barty asked.

“They’re too afraid. They know that if they were just to reveal themselves, the muggles would try to erase us, likely at the expense of their own civilians as well. What we need is to have enough power and strength to strike right to their heart. A clean and immediate take over. Sadly that can only be done once the Ministry has come under our sway, they don’t have the mind to pull it through, or the courage to sanctify the necessary spells. The Dark Lord dares and it is only through him we can ensure our safety.”

“You’re all like real life heroes. Like Merlin!” The first year was quickly shushed, although Regulus smiled at the comparison. It was nice to think that despite all the horrors he had seen… all that he would see… that it would be worth it in the end.

A warm cup was placed into his hand. He pulled his focus back to see Severus staring down at him with sympathy in his eyes.

“Dreamless Sleep.” He said. Regulus breathed in the warm smells that promised bed rest and sweet oblivion from the memories, both those he had witnessed and those that he had created. He took a sip, feeling a tension ease. Heavy eyes watched as Severus dished up smaller cups to be shared around the rest of the common room. It wasn’t a dose but would bring comfort and avoid the nightmares that some of the first years were fretting about. Barty disappeared after a word from Severus but he returned with a chocolate frog that he pressed into Regulus’ hand. It occurred to Regulus that Severus had seen more than his fair share of muggle horrors.

“Severus said you might like some chocolate.” Barty said, taking a seat on the floor as the rest of the Slytherins began to make their way to bed. Severus remained by the fire, making certain that there would be no evidence that a potion had been brewed. It was yet another secret that they would all keep.

“Wise man. Chocolate really is magical.” Regulus said with a smile at the younger boy, opening the packet and slipping Barty the card. The kid looked up at him thankfully. Chocolate Frogs were like galleons to the younger students so giving up a frog could be quite the challenge.

“Do you… really think that what you are doing is right? So many people who join Him have nightmares, it hardly seems like it can be a good choice.” Asked Barty, chewing his lip as he fiddled with the card, not daring to look at who it might be.

“Someone has to put the world to rights and if not us, then who?” Regulus asked softly, nibbling the frog. It went nicely with the Dreamless Sleep.

“I don’t know. It’s just that you seem so young. All of you.”

“We choose to sign up.” Regulus said softly. “It’s a great honour to be offered a place at his table. The Dark Lord is going to fix this world and if we can bring about a better future, a fraction of our youth is not too much to pay.”

“And nightmares aren’t a sign that what we’re doing is wrong,” Severus said, taking a nearby chair now that he had tidied the cauldron away. “It’s involuntary. I am certain that every one of us is proud of what we have done.” He gave Regulus a look and the younger wizard nodded, one hand wrapped around his cup, the other the chocolate frog but his eyes were elsewhere.

“One day you’ll understand.” Regulus said softly, almost as if echoing something.

"Come to me if you need any more. I can get a supply up if you think these might be more regular, Regulus." Severus said, giving the younger student a look. "It isn't weak to need help, so even if you just need to talk things through... I'm here." Regulus gave a nod of his head.

"I will. Thank you, Severus."

"I... If you think it will help, I can try talk my father round?" Barty asked, looking between the two. Severus and Regulus exchanged looks and silent words.

"Don't put yourself in any danger with your father. I know how awful conflict at home can be. Sirius... he... well it did not do any good to try and reason with him. But if you need to get away and have decent company, you can visit me. I'm sure my cousin Bellatrix would love to meet you."

"I would like that." Barty smiled, hesitantly but well aware of the benefit of getting close to the Black family.

"We all have classes tomorrow and should get some sleep while the night remains." Severus reminded them, rising from his chair, as if to head up. "There will be time for organising social calendars in the daylight hours."

Regulus nodded, finishing off the rest of his Dreamless Sleep, aware that both students were waiting on him. He was rather touched that Severus would see him safely to bed, after all the conflict he had had with Sirius although he was rather less surprised by Barty's affection. The younger student was just what Regulus had wanted in a brother and he had hopes that he would see Barty safely delivered into the ranks of the Death Eaters and away from his father.

"Thank you again, for the chocolate frog, Barty. I'll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast." Regulus smiled, placing a hand briefly on the younger lad's shoulder. He smiled brightly and headed off.

"You won't do him any good, twisting his mind against his father." Severus said softly, sinking back into his chair. Neither of them intended to return to their dorms.

"It'll do him better than ignorance." Regulus said. "And I would rather I had a hand in it than someone else."

"Hm," Severus hummed. "You are more moderate, but Bellatrix is not."

"She's seen more than you and I." He broke the chocolate frog and handed half to Severus. "Besides, she's been my teacher and I've come out alright."

Severus gave him a look.

"I lasted a month before anyone found out." Regulus protested.

"You mean until you ran out of the Dreamless Sleep you had brewed during the holidays."

Regulus shifted, pulling his gown closer around him at the uncomfortable truth.

"I'll be lowering the dosage each week. You can't afford to rely on it." Severus said.

"I know," Regulus sighed, staring at the fire.

"And it's fine to not volunteer for every mission. You're a Black, for Merlin's sake, there's nothing to prove. Pick your battles and ease yourself into this. Look after yourself."

"It's just... I want to make the world safe and to live up to my name. The Blacks have such a position of privilege, I have to use it to make the world better. We've been negligent and the muggles had already destroyed so much."

Severus hummed in agreement and the two Death Eaters settled into their chairs, staring into the fire until sleep could overcome the memories that had been dealt to them.

[clericbyers]

okay, so, if s4 is set in the upside down, and there's danger at every turn in the UD... what if we get a byler confession, while they think they'll die? like, mike and will are being chased by a monster, they can't outrun it, and mike "sacrifices" himself to save will. while mike's running at it, fully convinced he'll die, he yells out a quick confession. it's really dramatic, and then everyone shows up, and starts killing the monster. it's later revealed that they heard the confession

Will’s chest burns with a conglomerate of pressures from inside his lungs and outside in the air. His arm is twisted funnily but he can barely feel the pain in comparison to the burning fire searing through his veins. One, two, one, two, he repeats in his head, taking a step with each desolate count. The darkness is never ending just as it was all those years ago and while there is some comfort found in not being alone, as he hears a crunch and whirls around with a quickness to spot Mike tripping over a fallen branch, Will is equally scared to have brought his friends along with him into this dangerous land. The Upside Down knows Will is here; the Mind Flayer can taste his flesh as easily as Will can taste the spores on his tongue with every breath from his mouth. No one is safe and Will and Mike are stupidly separated from the others. It was an accident, a moment spent too long trying to reassure each other that they would be okay, and suddenly, the party was split and Mike and Will were left alone to race against time. Time trapped in the morphing body of a shadow, of the monsters, of Death itself.

Time moves awkwardly; it ticks by slowly with the legs of an addled creature yet is equally as unchangeable as the irrefutable concept. The second hand slows its trajectory. It oscillates between moon-driven chilling ocean waves and sun-struck ripples of hot, sticky heat. It’s stuck between seconds yet jumping into minutes, never stable yet stable enough for time to pass. A bell tolls somewhere in the distance. Top of the hour, what hour Will can’t even begin to guess. Time works differently here, looping around his ankles until he trips into the next minute and the next minute and the next minute until he’s toppling over the edge into a free fall. A blanket of misdirection topples over Will’s eyes and he skids to a stop with a heaving breath. He turns to look at Mike, who isn’t far away but is far enough away that he could be lost in the darkness without even realizing it.

Will snaps his fingers, a glimmer of light sparking from the tips of his numb fingers and he repeats the action again and again in hopes that Mike can see the flashing light and find his way back to Will’s side. That’s all Will has ever wanted: Mike right at his side, forever and always, never leaving him as he can never leave Mike. The other boy makes his way where he belongs and hunches over as he catches a shaky breath or two. Mike’s bangs are plastered with sweat against his forehead and Will feels a silly urge within to brush those thin strands away. Perhaps it’s an urge he’s always had, perhaps it’s an urge he has now that they are lost and the possibility of time catching up to them disassembles into realism. Will’s not pessimistic, he leaves that to Lucas, but he’s not fairly optimistic either, he leaves that to Dustin. Realism isn’t where his ideas settle either, not since the Upside Down stole reality from him and shoved nightmares down his throat until he was choking on slugs and burning from the inside out as a demonic monster controlled his body. He doesn’t know where his ideas lie, perhaps nominalism or a more pragmatic strain of realism, but it doesn’t really matter when the world is falling apart around him and philosophical disciplines mean little in the face of near death.

Still, there’s something about Death’s touch hovering over Will’s throat as he watches Mike that makes him question such minimal things as the way one looks at life. And when Mike looks over at Will and shoots him a soft smile despite the blood and dirt smearing his face, Will is struck with a smidgen of optimism, a subtle mist against the crushing sensations taking over his thoughts. Maybe things aren’t that bad when Will’s got his best friend looking at him like he’s the only person that matters in the world. No, not the only person that matters in the world—they know first hand there are at least two worlds in existence, maybe more—Will is the only person that matters in his world, and that’s far more touching than anything else.

Will would kiss Mike if he had permission to do so.

The moment is gone as easily as it appeared, snapped in half with fear and shock as a monster’s cry shrieks through the air. Mike stands full and quickly turns toward the sound, reaching a hand out for Will in an odd gesture of comfort. Will doesn’t know if he’s supposed to take Mike’s hand, but he does anyway, shuddering at the familiar touch that’s been kept from him for so long. Mike’s fingers are warm despite the Upside Down’s chilly atmosphere and for a moment Will wonders if Mike is the one between them with the electric manipulation powers. Mike’s hold tightens and in the blink of an eye, Will finds himself slammed into Mike’s chest, his twisted arm throbbing as it smashes against the taller boy’s body.

Will doesn’t have a moment to ask what’s happening before the clock is ticking and he’s stumbling into the next moment in time. His fingers slip from Mike’s grip, wetness from sweat and moisture making things too slippery to maintain a solid hold. Mike turns back to grab at him but Will is already free falling and nothing but air fills his fist as he reaches out to grab onto whatever he can. The distance between them grows larger but Will still feels the echo of Mike’s warm hand on his. He can hear the monster screaming again, branches crunching and crumbling to dust under the creature’s heated feet. Will knows he’s not physically there anymore, but time has yet to catch up with his physical location so he sees the monster getting closer. He watches scaly claws and sharp teeth slither toward Mike, prepared to strike and taste the revitalizing, viscous blood of the boy who resists the Upside Down the most. Mike is still facing Will, his mouth wide open from calling out Will’s name. Mike can’t see the monster behind him, he can’t see that he’s seconds away from dying, so Will calls out in turn hoping that the other boy can hear him.

Mike turns, notices the monster, and then starts sprinting as fast he can to close the distance between him and Will and lengthen the one between himself and the monster. Will trips into a stand still, time frozen within him yet everything around him continues on, slinking through the shadows as it chases after his friends and family. Mike’s gesticulating wildly and shouting something Will can’t really hear, but when he skirts to a stop by Will, he can hear him much like hearing voices underwater. Will tries to open his mouth to reply but no words come out. Mike desperately looks back and then turns on his heel, face drawn tight with worry and a special type of concern that can’t be put in words. It hurts Will’s heart and he’s barely able to hear Mike’s parting words before the darkness takes his sight and envelopes him in smothered smoke. 

I’ll keep you safe, I promise! I’ll chase it away but you need to stay hidden! Wait for me, okay?

Wait for me, okay?

Wait for me, wait for me, wait for me.

Wait, wait, wait.

Tick, tock, tick tock, tick tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Time comes back in flaky, peeling layers that unwind and unfold into consciousness. It slams into Will’s body with every chilling breeze and he shivers back into reality with lingering shock. His hands are burning, sparkling with lightning and static despite him not even remembering activating an energy surge. It doesn’t matter now; somehow time has sent Will into the thick of things and there’s not a moment to waste. Almost like magnets of the opposite charge, Will and Mike easily find each other on the battlefield. Will feels like he’s missing something—there’s a gap in his memory, not as frightening as his memory loss when the Mind Flayer possessed him, but still an issue to be concerned about. When the monster is defeated though, the memories come back like gentle waves and it overlays the exhaustion burning his chest. Will’s chest is always burning, scarring over with every breath, but it burns with a soothing ache that reminds him that he’s alive and himself. The memories he lost when time played with his soul help mend the holes in his mind left by existing in the Upside Down.

The last memories Will regains are Mike’s parting words. They come through in a fuzzy haze as he’s holding the other boy to his chest, tending to the wounds Mike collected being overprotective of everyone. His hands freeze while wiping a bleeding scratch clean and time speeds up with his beating heart. Mike turns to give Will a look, probably curious as to why he suddenly stopped patching his wounds but the injured boy doesn’t get the chance to ask a question when Will pulls him up by his face and kisses him before time can steal the moment away.

I’ll keep you safe, I promise.

tick. tock.

I’ll chase it away but you need to stay hidden!

tick. tock.

Wait for me, okay?

tick.

You won’t ever lose me. Even if I die, you’re never alone.

tock.

Best thing I’ve ever done…

ticktockticktockticktockti—

…was fall in love with you.

[left-myself-in-the-alleyway]

Forever & Always

Part 3

Warning: Descriptive abuse, panic attack(s) touches lightly on drinking

To anyone who reads this: I wrote this part before I did any research on panic attacks and such so please be kind.

Thanks to @momobucketcomics for editing/co-writing this and making the mood board below.

More thanks to @devotedlybeautifulkingdom- (Tumblr won’t let me tag you!) for showing support for this story.

-

I felt someone rubbing my back. Someone, or something was comforting me, telling me I was safe. In the state I was in, I'm surprised I could hear it at all. I could feel the sweat trickling down my face, leaving a wet, slimy trail. I also felt myself calming down, albeit slowly.

It's okay. It's okay. I kept telling myself, desperately wanting to believe it.

I sat up straight and leaned back, still trying to fill my lungs. I could barely get enough air in them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I heard someone say my name.

"Mmhhmm...?" I mumble, my eyes still shut tight.

"Evelyn, can you please open your eyes?" I hear a voice that sounds like Tony ask, sounding... concerned?

Slowly, I comply to my so-called father's wishes.

I opened my eyes to see a sea of faces staring at me, worried expressions on their faces.

...Last time I checked, there weren't this many people in the room. Damn, I'm seeing double again.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. Finally, my head was clear enough to speak normally. "I'm sorry... overreaction." I try to cover up.

"I would like to apologize for asking you that. I didn't know you would react that badly." Thor explained. It was badly worded, but...I knew what he meant.

"It's okay. It's not your fault- I shouldn't have let my mind wander..." The last words drifted off into a mutter- I wonder if he could hear me.

"Do I have a room?" I ask quietly. I don't want to stay here for much longer.

"Yes, I um. Yeah." Tony still looked a bit freaked out about my panic attack. I hope he hasn't bitten off more than he can chew by taking me in...

"I can take her to her room, Tony." Steve offers.

"Thanks, Steve." He replied, walking away.

Steve gave me a smile. "Follow me."

Dragging my feet, I grab my backpack and duffle bag. Panic attacks are exhausting.

As soon as we leave the room, it's just the two of us. The hubbub in the last room seemed to have vanished from existence, as if nothing had happened at all. Huh, guess they have soundproofing here too.

"Are you okay?" He asked as the elevator started to move.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I say, trying to get some form of a smile to form on my face. I hate it when people worry about me- I feel like I'm just a nuisance to them.

"You know, when I first came out of the ice, I had panic attacks. Everything was really overwhelming." He admitted. "I found the best thing I could do was talk to people about what happened. War is an ugly thing. You see a lot of things you wish you hadn't."

"It sounds like...you had a hard time leaving the past in the past and embracing the future" I say quietly as we navigate the halls, a whisper being all I could muster.

"You're pretty smart for someone so young. But that is something that you should remember too. Your past may determine your future, but it doesn't have to rule it." He explains as we come to my door, his pure blue eyes boring into my hazel ones.

"If you ever need anything at all, and you can't find Tony, don't be afraid to come to me for help." He said softly. "Just ask JARVIS to take you to my apartment. It's on this floor."

I scrunch my eyebrows. Apartment? "Everyone here has half a floor, except for myself and Tony. He has a whole floor to himself. I have almost a whole floor, so that's why Tony figured it would be a good idea to put you here." He explained.

My eyes go wide. "That's right, you get a small apartment just for you." He chuckled.

I smiled to myself. Maybe this won't be so bad.

"Remember what I said." He says, walking away.

I walk into my room, exhausted. I let go of my bags, letting them land wherever. It's so clean in here, I feel a slight twinge of guilt for messing up the neatness of everything with my scruffy baggage. I look at the rustic, brown clock. Thank God it’s not some weird futuristic aesthetic design, I hate that kind of stuff . It's 6:00.

That means it's only 3:00 back home.

Home. Somehow, the word feels foreign in my mouth- like a new shoe that'll take getting used to, or... Something.

I look at my messy bags laying haphazardly on the floor. My other luggage must be downstairs, wherever Mr. Hogan put them. I'm too tired to care about anything right now. I've got so much to do, but I can't resist taking a quick nap- Then I'll unpack and check out the rest of the apartment.

I flop down on the couch. Closing my eyes, I still can't believe how much my life could change so much over the course of a few hours.

-

Tony trodded over to the lounge bar, searching for the drink he had left behind earlier. He chugged down the glass of alchohol. Even though it was now room-temperature, he savored it rushing down his throat. Then, without even thinking, he poured himself a glass of the strongest bottle on the shelf- Devil's Springs Vodka. He collapsed on the couch sipping his strong drink.

-

"No, no! Stop it!" I scream at my mother.

She had just returned from wherever it was that she went. Probably the bar, considering her words were extremely slurred. With every step she took, it was heavier than anything- like ten earthquakes simultaneously rocking my world.

She was hitting me, landing blow after blow over and over again. I wish it would stop.

I need it to stop!

I almost got away, but she latched onto my shirt and pulled me back.

"Oh, darling. You're not getting away that easily!" She laughed as she dug her long, inhumanly sharp nails into my arms. I cried out as I felt the skin start to split and bleed.

She shoved me onto the floor. Before I could be relieved at her release, my head caught the corner of the table on my way down. Pain exploded through my head, and I could feel hot blood welling up somewhere on my face. Through my blurry, spotted vision I saw her chug down another bottle of vile-smelling beer.

Then, instead of doing what I hoped she would do, she threw it at me. I screamed as it shattered on the floor, showering me in broken shards. I cried out one last time as I felt the pieces of glass embed themselves in my flesh, burning deeper and deeper inside me. As I struggled to run away, my hands slipped on the floor that was pooling with my blood and tears. It rose ever higher, fueled by my bodily fluids, threatening to flood the entire room. The salty mixture seeped into my fresh wounds, burning them black.

Before I black out, I hear her say something. Her voice was no longer slurred, but crystal clear. It was sick and twisted, familiar and yet of something nightmarish that you'd only hear in the darkest depths of hell.

"Remember, Evelyn; however far you run, no matter how hard you fight back, I will be with you. Forever... and Always." As she growled those last words, everything faded away into darkness.

-

I shot up out of my restless slumber, drenched in cold sweat. My heart was pounding. I quickly pulled up the sleeves of my pullover, thinking I had woken up after being knocked out. There were only fading bruises and scars. Then, I remembered where I was. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I glanced at the clock. I only slept for 45 minutes, and I'd managed to have one of the worst nightmares in history. Oh, jeez.

I started unpacking my measly possessions. Anything to get my mind off That.

Someone had brought the rest of my bags up and put them in my room. I plopped down on the pristine bedsheets, feeling myself sink down into the mattress. It felt much comfier up here than on the couch. Maybe if I'd crashed on an actual bed, I'd have been spared the horrors of that nightmare.

I hung up a few of my tops in the closet. Most of my clothing consisted of long-sleeved sweaters, which I used to wear to school to hide the marks. I also had one sundress and two maxi skirts. They were beautiful, but I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Standing on my tiptoes, I put a few of my pants and shorts on the shelves. Some of them were messed up, but I threw them in anyway. I was never any good at folding clothes. From there, I head into the bathroom to unpack all of makeup and other... Necessities.

I wonder if there's any dishes in the cupboards. Skipping off to the mini-kitchen, I went to check. Sure enough, there was. There was also food in the fridge! Am I supposed to live by myself, completely? I wonder to myself, checking out the other contents of the various drawers. The countertops were sparkling, and even inside the compartments of the kitchen, not a jar was out of place. Just the way it will stay, clean.

I fiddled with my phone, looking for my favorite playlist. Ah, found it.

Forgettable by Project 46 filled my ears.

I absentmindedly started to hum along to the song- This soon developed into quiet singing.

The song's beautiful and uplifting melody rejuvenated me. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, as I started organizing.

I adjusted a photo of me and my cat, trying to get it just right. I finally get it to sit at the right angle on the little counter beside the kitchen. As I subconsciously sung to the tune of my music, I stepped back to examine the angle of the frame. Suddenly, in between songs, I heard something behind me. It sounded kinda large- maybe mice? Huh, not if the cleaning team can help it. Really Evelyn, this is Stark towers. There won't be mice here. After ridiculing myself a bit more I turn around, thinking I might make some tea. I nearly screamed when I saw a figure in my doorway...

[belladonnaandulriched]

amped and wired, part two | chapter fourteen: nocturnal

“C'mon, Maya, stay with us,” I begged her. I had my hand resting on the back of her head to keep her awake, and yet her eyes rolled up and her eyelids shuttered closed. I shifted my weight in the chair. I wasn't used to holding someone in this position, much less a fully grown young lady.

“Maybe she's thirsty?” Lars suggested.

“Who knows,” I confessed as I never took my eyes off of her face. “She could be dyin' of thirst—y'know. Who knows how long she's been in that junkyard.” I cleared my throat.

“Do you know how long you've been in there?” I asked her in a soft voice.

“I doubt she's going to know the answer to such a dubious question, Joey,” Lars pointed out.

“Yeah, but it's worth a shot, though,” I said. I adjusted my hand underneath her head. My fingers caressed the roots of her hair, which felt dry as a bone. She was definitely thirsty; and add to it, the skin on her lips looked cracked and dry as if they hadn't seen a drop of water in eons. Dubious question? I think not.

Even in the dim light, I noticed that the skin on her face had washed out after being without basic necessities for so long, and her chest heaved from who the hell knew what. I could only think about Candace and also Angeline, given the latter was as important to all of this as the rest of us. I wondered if Maya even knew about Candace and what had happened to her with the shitload of paper shoved down her own gullet.

“She needs to lay down,” I heard Mrs. Hamilton say from behind Lars and me. I turned my head to look at her bathed in the amber candle light.

“But she is laying down,” I pointed out as she entered the room; she stood there in the doorway with her hands pressed to her hips as if she was Wonder Woman.

“No, I mean actual laying down,” she replied with a little roll of her eyes.

“Also her hair is dry as a bone,” I added, to which I directed my attention to Lars, “so yeah—she's thirsty.” My upper left arm twitched from holding her. I could feel my hand falling asleep. But I wasn't willing to let her go as of yet, even as a little twitch emerged on the tip of my nose. I could let her go for a second and a half and rub the tip of my nose with one finger. It was possible. I could do it.

“She's probably famished, too,” Mrs. Hamilton added.

“She smells like old liquor, too,” I said as I couldn't take it anymore and I reached up to scratch my nose.

“Which means she needs a bath—Joey!”

“What—? Shit.” Maya almost fell out of my arms and onto the floor. I caught her by the shoulder but at that point, my left arm was shaking so much that it was difficult to even so much as hold onto her.

“Take her upstairs,” Lars ordered Mrs. Hamilton.

“Yeah, I can't—I can't—” She hurried over to me and, with the help of Lars, she picked Maya out of my arms. Louise emerged in the doorway behind them to help out.

“Is she hungry? She has to be hungry.” The three of them stepped away from me and the chess table. I watched them carry Maya out of there and into the dark hallway there.

“Watch her head!” said Louise, and Mrs. Hamilton was quick to catch Maya's head before it smacked against the corner of the doorway. The three of them then vanished into the darkness, which in turn left me alone there in the dark myself. I stood my feet and peeled off my coat.

I shook my arms about. For a small girl, she sure got heavy after a while. “Fuck.”

Lars returned to the room with a look of concern on his face.

“Joey, she's going to be in the room upstairs,” he announced to me.

“I ain't sleeping on a table,” I heard Scott say right behind him; I couldn't help but think about that container of human chunky pastrami underneath the bed there. My stomach turned when I thought about what went down in there.

“Well, at least she's going to be layin' on sump'n,” I pointed out to him.

“There's a pack of meat underneath the bed,” Louise called out.

“Oh, wait, that's mine!” Lars replied; he doubled back to retrieve it for himself. I felt my face flush from the thought of what was in that container, and to think it could very easily be eaten by the others in there. Charlie already had a piece and I could only think about all of them having pieces. It made my stomach turn, and so much that I had to step away from the table and towards the bar. I thought about pouring myself a glass of water but then again the lights were out and I had no idea where the glasses were in there.

I ran my fingers through my black curls and let out a low whistle.

He had to hide that container under the bed, the bastard! But then again, he killed her to save her and he did it to protect her. He did it to protect her. But bloody hell, did it make me uneasy.

“Joey,” Lars' Danish accent caught my ear, and I turned to look at him. I raised my eyebrows at his concerned expression bathed in candle light.

“It's gone,” he flatly said as he approached me.

“What!” I gaped at him.

“The container of sliced wife meat—it's gone.”

I glanced around the room to make sure we were alone. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. It's another container—it has actual roast beef in there. It smells good and I had a piece, though, but still.”

“Who the hell took the first one then?” I was mortified.

He shrugged, and then Mrs. Hamilton called his name from upstairs. He winced for a second and then he ducked away. I could only wonder where it could have gone. I had no clue as to who would take it, either. But then I remembered the clones were all made from human flesh. I had a feeling I didn't want to know, and then I felt a light caress on my shoulder. I turned around to find Cindy standing behind me dressed in a white leather jacket and fitted black bell bottoms; I looked down to see black leather boots with one inch heels on her feet; for a split second, I swore she grew about an inch given she looked at me right in the face.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted me.

“Cindy! I thought you didn't have to come in tonight.”

“Mom called me to come in for a moment. You know, with the lights and whatnot.”

“Right, right, right...” My voice trailed off. I really had no idea what to say to her right then, but I just thought back to our encounter in the loft following the chess game. I nibbled on my bottom lip at the thought of her lips around my dick. I could feel my face growing warm again.

“Besides, I saw you holding that girl in your arms like you were a hero or something,” she pointed out. “I was standing here for about a full five minutes and watched your every move.”

“Oh, her?” I smirked at her and gestured to the doorway. “Oh—it was nuthin'.” Five minutes, meaning she stood there and eavesdropped on that little exchange between me and Lars right there. I hoped she didn't hear the words “sliced wife meat”, and if she did, I hoped she misheard it for something else. Frankie's voice floated down the stairway right then, and I could only wish for one of them to call me up there because my one head wanted to be close to Cindy again, but on the other head, I feared the worst.

“You sure?” she asked me and she had this come hither look in her eyes, which was only accentuated by the amber glow of the candles around us. “You looked really—really—really sexy holding her. Kind of like how you looked really sexy on the hockey rink.” She moved in closer to me, so close that I could pick up the smell of the leather and her perfume on the side of her neck. I thought of her touching my ass like she did back in Syracuse, but I immediately shelved that thought.

I wasn't really in the mood for love making, especially since there was a pack of human chunky pastrami under a bed upstairs. But I took a look down at her chest and the sight of the black blouse underneath her jacket, complete with a low neckline to show off those lovely breasts of hers.

“Oh, well, I try my best,” I assured her with a shrug of my shoulders. I swore I heard Lars calling me, or maybe it was just me trying to search for a way out. I peered over my shoulder to pure darkness, but then she pressed her chest right up against mine. It helped matters that those boots brought her closer to my height. She ran the tips of her fingers down my chest and onto my stomach.

“God, you're so hot,” she whispered to me. I felt her hands caress me down, all the way to the band of my jeans. They made their way around my waist. “You know—I've had my share of clientele in the past, but there's something about you, though. Something—precious.”

“Precious?”

“Special. Darling. Memorable. Adorable. Adorable—”

I didn't even feel her hand lift off my lower back; next thing I knew, the zipper on my jeans came undone.

“—adorable and very sensual. There's just something—”

She slipped her fingers down my pants.

“—something about you Italian boys—nice and big and—” In the dim light, I made out sight of her eyes examining my hair. “—hairy. Very sexy—I am absolutely obsessed with it.”

I felt her fingers touch me. Touch me and feel me.

“Remember, I'm also Indian,” I reminded her with a raise of my finger.

“Explains everything, baby boy,” she continued with a grip of my shaft, which in turn made my toes curl. A grin crept across that face of hers.

“You feel that?” she teased me.

“Feel you? Or something else?”

She pressed her lips to the side of my neck. She had me then, especially once she groaned right into my ear.

“That's it,” she breathed right into my ear. “Come to Mama—” I could feel myself firming up and filling out: it helped that she had her hand right there, right on me, holding onto me tight like I was going to get away from her. I felt her chest rub against my own.

“Come to me—come to me, you bad boy—”

“How much do I owe you?” was all I could grunt out.

“Nuthin,” she replied.

“Wha—really?” I glimpsed down at her.

“Yes. Just for you, my stallion—you don't have to pay me a dime. That's how precious you are.”

I let out the softest noise from the back of my throat. I wasn't coming or getting off or anything but if she got down on her knees, I probably would. But fucking hell, it felt so good. And it felt good even as Mrs. Hamilton strode into the room right then right behind us.

“Are we dancing in the dark here?” she teased us.

“Kinda—” I cleared my throat, and Cindy took her hand out from my pants. In the dim light, I watched her pulsate her fingers: I could still her below the belt and upon my chest. I was still pretty full between the legs, and I knew I would be for some time even as Mrs. Hamilton strolled up next to me and rested her arm on my shoulder.

“So you and Lars bunkin' in the loft upstairs tonight?” Cindy asked me.

“We'd have to make the bed, though,” Mrs. Hamilton pointed out. “And—you know—it's stone dark up there right now.”

“Nothing to it,” she insisted, “although I can see it being a little bit of a pain. I'm gonna see if Louise wants to help...” She strode out of the room and into the dark hallway to my left.

“I'm not really tired, though,” I confessed to Mrs. Hamilton. “And I kinda wanted to mosey on home, too. You know—before it snows.”

“That bed is so toasty, though,” she said with a smirk on her face.

“But I really wanna sleep in my own bed tonight, though,” I insisted.

“You sure?”

“Positive. I'm as firm as a rock, too.”

“Oh, she did a little handiwork?”

“Yeah. It felt good, but I worry about staying this big, though, even as Lars and I turn in for the night.”

“Okay, I'll take you boys home,” she told me with a wink. “We'll use Cindy's car seeing as my car has seen some better days...” Lars emerged from the hallway right then with a flustered look on his face.

“Hvordan går det?” he asked us.

“Huh?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“How goes it? Sorry. A bit of Danish slips out still. Maya is laying on the one bed in the room upstairs, and Scott, Frank, Dan, and Charlie are all figuring sleeping positions for themselves.”

“I'm takin' you boys home before the snow comes in,” Mrs. Hamilton informed him.

“Oh, good—I had my worries as to what was going on here—here in the dark.” I thought about that container under the bed, but I dared not ask Lars about it until after we returned to my place. Cindy emerged from the darkness right then with a flash light in one hand.

“Cindy,” Mrs. Hamilton started, “I'm gonna take Joey and Lars home—you check on the lights and make sure everything is in its right place. You got your keys?”

“Okay! Yeah, I do, right here—” She ambled over to Mrs. Hamilton with the car keys, which she took out from her jacket pocket. “Good night, Joey.” She winked at me and blew me a kiss, and I felt my stomach make a flippity flop. I showed her a shy smirk before I fetched my coat and left the room.

Even as we stepped outside into the rain, it took me a few moments to realize my jeans were still undone: I couldn't hardly understand as to why the skin under my belly button felt so cold. I zipped up before we reached Cindy's cute little black car parked behind Black Orchid. I ran my fingers along my waist just to feel myself for a second before I climbed into the cozy warmth next to Mrs. Hamilton and the fuzzy hot pink dice dangling off of the rear view mirror. The whole interior smelled of spice and nail polish: that passenger seat felt like a hug from behind. I couldn't explain it, but I pictured myself sitting there next to Cindy as she and I went on a road trip somewhere. It was a fleeting thought, but I thought it anyway.

I had a crush on a stripper, albeit one docked in lace and leather.

“You warm enough back there, Lars?” Mrs. Hamilton took a glimpse into the mirror at him there in the back seat.

“Oh, yes—plenty warm back here.”

I thought about who could have made their way under the bed in there. Under the bed and swapped out the chunky human slices for actual roast beef. The good news was that we need not worry about that container anymore. At least that was my hope.

I didn't want to leave the warmth of that car as Mrs. Hamilton drove us back to my place, and it was a good thing we got there when we did because I made out the sight of snowflakes against the windshield.

“Be careful going back,” Lars told her before he climbed out of the back seat.

“I will, don't worry,” she assured him, “—I've driven in worse conditions in that piece of crap up the block from the club.”

I leaned into Mrs. Hamilton's face as if I was about to kiss her, but I stopped myself. She gazed at me with her eyes wide and then she grinned at me.

“Good night, sweet boy,” she told me, and gave me a little peck on the cheek. I felt my face grow warm at the feel of her lips. I then followed Lars out of the car; I waved at her once I closed the door behind me. I led him to my front door; I took out my keys from my coat pocket and unlocked it, and revealed the darkness blanketing the front room.

“Isn't it nice to be back home?” he said to me.

“Absolutely,” I replied; I made my way across the room to turn on the lamp. He shut the door behind him; once the golden light crossed the room, I noticed he had his hand to his chest.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“Yeah, I just—I just—” He pursed his lips shut. I thought about that container under the bed. Sliced dead wife meat, or however the hell he put it.

“You're not gonna barf, are ya?” I grimaced at the thought of him puking right there. I took a step back towards the wall.

“No,” he assured me, but the reddish hue in his face told a different story. He let out a low whistle. “I did get a little queasy riding in the car there, however. That's what happens when it gets so warm—” He stopped himself, complete with a hand on his chest. I didn't move, even if it was rather cold in there. He didn't move, either; and then I heard his stomach rumble.

“Oh, god, man—go to the bathroom,” I muttered. He let out the biggest hairiest belch I ever heard him let out at that point: it lasted about ten seconds and it sounded as though it came from his lower intestine.

“Jesus,” I remarked as I bowed my head and grimaced at the length of it.

“Yeah. Oh—” He then gagged on something. He bowed his head and brought one hand to his stomach.

“You okay?” I practically had my back pressed to the wall at that point. He brought a hand to his mouth and bowed his head forward.

“Oh, man, not on the carpet,” I said with a shudder at the thought of him puking all over the place. But he didn't: instead, he choked on something. I held still for a second, and then he—took something out of his mouth.

“The fuck?” I whispered. He held up his hand to show me—

“Is that—Is that what I think it is?” I asked him in a low voice.

He unfurled the arms to show that they were still undigested even after having been in his stomach for who knows how long. The lenses shone in the lamp light, even with small bits of his stomach acid clinging to the front and back of them.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“Those are her glasses... right?” I asked him.

“Yeah. I forgot I ate these.”

“Why—Why—” I could hardly speak.

“Because I knew if someone found her, they would ask me if I knew anything, and I didn't really have much of anything to dispose of these.”

“So—you swallowed those down, too...” I relaxed and leaned against the wall for a moment. I watched him examine the glasses for a moment.

“I hadn't eaten a piece of her in some time—she's starting to pass through.”

To which I nodded and stretched my arms over my head. “I'm officially ready for bed, I dunno 'bout you.”

I ducked into the hallway, and into my room to change out of my clothes. I hung my coat up in my closet given I didn't want to go out tomorrow for anything. I just wanted to stay in bed all day, and Lars could join me, too. I had my hope given what he had just said. It was passing through him and so I hoped that things would go quiet for a time as I crawled under the covers. I fell asleep before my head even so much as hit my pillow, and thus I never felt him crawl into bed next to me.

I saw Nerissa and Cindy laying on either side of me, the former with her thick lush body and the latter with her delicate touch. In between two girls who wanted to kiss me and love me, even if it meant Cindy would have to wrap her lips around another guy's dick for a time and a brick of money and if it meant that Nerissa had to vanish into thin air. They both caressed my chest and kissed my neck, and ran their fingers through my hair. Nerissa's body looked much fuller than normal, like she had put on a bunch of weight even from being on the other side.

“Ladies, please,” I said to them, “I'm only one man.”

“And a sexy one at that,” Cindy breathed into my ear right before she ran her tongue around the rim. “We're gonna kidnap you.”

“Huh?” I asked her.

“Joey—Joey!” Lars' voice sliced through the dream like a knife. I opened my eyes to see him standing over me. Gray morning light washed over the side of his face.

“Huh? What?” I blinked a few times to make out the alarmed look upon his face. “What is it?”

“Scott's been kidnapped,” he stated.

“Huh?!”

“Scott's been kidnapped! Mrs. Hamilton's outside right now. Come on, get dressed—we've gotta find him!”

“D'she at least call the cops?” I asked him as I pulled myself into an upright position.

“No, she's worried they won't be able to find him,” he quipped; he backed up to let me climb to my feet. “Come on, come on!”

“I'm coming! I'm coming!” I persisted. Yeah, I came for Mrs. Hamilton but not Cindy.