#and if none of them ever met each other they'd all still be nobodies

[tenojan-in-tevinter]

Honestly there's no one I'd rather be on a forced saving-the-world road trip with than the origins gang. Sorry kotor companions sorry bg3 companions but no one does it like the origins gang. They are a family they are insane they are not to be fucked with they never would have been friends if they were given a choice in the matter. The perfect road trip squad.

They consist of the best dog in thedas, the worlds most royal himbo, a demi-god shapeshifting witch, a bisexual assassin nun, a bisexual assassin orphan, a powerful spell-slinging grandma living on borrowed time (who is bffs with a spirit), a giant spy man who doesn't know how to function by himself, the worlds grossest dwarf, and a giant statue that has a life goal to kill all birds.

[kimpossibly]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 → g. blythe

pairing: gilbert blythe x fem!reader type: fic request: none warnings: mild angst (but mostly fluff)

prompt/trope: "I like you." A mumbles, almost scared to admit. B absently reaches for A's hand on the railing, a smile forming on their lips. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know-" A throws B's hands on their shoulders, pulling them by their waist. "You and I know, and I think that's--that's more than enough, love." (@urfriendlywriter)

summary: when an accidental glance makes y/n's heart race, she's pushed to make a confession to her best friend, gilbert―who, surprisingly, seems open to a confidential agreement. word count: 1845

One glance. That was all it took. Y/n looked up momentarily from her slate, craned her neck ever so slightly to look beside her, and found a pair of hazel eyes already locked on her. In an instant she saw familiar freckles and curly dark hair, and an instant later they were gone. Gilbert's head snapped away the moment Y/n's eyes met his as he struggled desperately to look instantaneously busy in his studies, but Y/n's head stayed up, a crease forming between her brows as she gazed on, trying to work out why exactly Gilbert's eyes had been on her - and, even more, how long?

"Miss Y/l/n!" Mr. Philips snapped from his place at the desk. "Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus."

A spattering of giggles from the girls and snickers from the boys coursed over the room. The only two who stayed truly silent were Gilbert and Y/n, who kept their eyes fixed intently on their respective slates so as not to draw any more attention to themselves - or to the other. Y/n's cheeks blazed red (as did Gilbert's although she was too afraid to look up and see it).

But it all begged the question, why? Gilbert and Y/n had been close friends from what seemed like the beginning of time. Well, perhaps friends wasn't the best way to describe how they started out. They began as all children do―by bothering each other. He'd pull her hair and she'd chase him around the schoolyard, throwing insults back and forth until they both ran out of breath. It happened so often that, at some point, they almost began to enjoy it. Soon enough they'd find themselves taking the same path to and from school. They'd use that time to bicker as well, not wanting to walk in awkward silence. Then, eventually, their bickering turned to casual conversation, then to enrapturing discussion about anything―reading, school, the goings on of Avonlea.

But they were friends. That was all. So why was Y/n blushing to high heaven over nothing but a momentary glance?

"Miss Y/l/n! Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus." Y/n replayed the teacher's scolding again and again in her mind as she walked to town hall. Recently she'd been giving her time to help Miss Lind with the annual Christmas play she put on - with Gilbert. The two had long since grown out of participating, so they volunteered to help in other ways. Miss Lind had put Gilbert in charge of the lighting, seeing as he was the only one who could make sense of the queues and contraptions involved in the process. And Gilbert, quipping that he could only truly stand to be around her for hours at a time, elected Y/n to help him.

Until that day, Y/n had looked forward to rehearsal. But now she found her palms beginning to sweat as the town hall neared, despite the snow that was still surrounding her as she walked.

"Y/n!" Miss Lind exclaimed upon the girl's arrival. "Lovely to see you. Gilbert's already in the loft―go on up and see what you can do to help."

Miss Lind knew to phrase her request in such a way because it was common knowledge that Gilbert was the true brains behind the operation, and Y/n was his less knowledgeable but very teachable assistant. Y/n nodded at Miss Lind's request and left her to continue squawking at the young children singing a very off-key rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Y/n climbed the familiar steps to the upper loft at the back end of the auditorium, feeling her heart race as she did so. She tried with all her might to scold it back to a normal rhythm, but it was no use. All the panic just wormed its way into her mind, her thoughts racing at speeds that were surely unnatural.

Gilbert was indeed already at the loft, close by the railing, tinkering with one of the stands as she tried to raise it a few inches. Y/n stepped quietly so as not to make her presence known immediately, hoping for a few extra seconds to plan how to address him (although she had never quite wondered such a thing before), but her heel brushed a paint can by the landing and caused a great scraping noise that in turn made Gilbert whip around in surprise.

Y/n pursed her lips. "Oops." she muttered.

She heard Gilbert laugh. "Could you stop knocking things over for a moment and help me?" he asked. "I can't quite figure out how this is supposed to work."

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert on lighting?" Y/n quipped, walking over and crouching to look at the light stand from below. "No, no you're doing it wrong―there's a fixture inside that needs to be turned, but it's locked. There should be something on here to unlock it..." she spoke, running her hands along the stand until her fingers grazed a notch. She seized it, pressing tightly until the button depressed, and there was a small click. Immediately the stand began to collapse into itself, lowering at a high speed. Gilbert and Y/n both reached out to stop it and found their hands on top of each other. At once the stand stopped its fall and came to halt, leaving both Gilbert and Y/n breathless.

There was a moment of silence as they both blinked at the stand, making sure it wouldn't fall. Then, Gilbert let out a breath, laughing slightly. "Now who's the expert?" he asked quietly.

Y/n smiled breathlessly back at him, now intently aware of Gilbert's hand atop hers. He froze as well, seemingly noticing the same thing. Y/n's breath hitched. In an instant she removed her hand from the stand and moved away to let Gilbert raise the stand himself. Y/n moved to stand by the railing and looked down upon the rehearsal on the stage. She picked at wood chips on the railing nervously, her hands growing cold.

Gilbert watched her for a moment as she did so before turning back away to fiddle with the light stand. Something gnawed at him as he did so, but he focused on the task ahead of him.

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the railing. She couldn't do much about the lighting without Gilbert to instruct her―but she was dead set on not turning around and speaking to him unless absolutely necessary. And, right now, nothing seemed necessary. Not in the slightest.

Finally there was a sigh, and Gilbert moved to stand beside her, placing his own hands on the railing. "What?" he asked lowly.

Y/n didn't meet his eyes, but stared straight ahead of her. "What do you mean?"

"You seem upset." he said gently. "Anything I can do to help?"

Y/n almost laughed at that―Gilbert's not knowing that he was the root cause of all of her worries. "There's nothing you can do, Gilbert. Believe me." she said. "Unless you're up for murdering Mr. Philips?"

"Normally I would say yes, but today I'm feeling like an upstanding citizen. So I guess I'd say...make it look like an accident."

Y/n laughed this time, but a moment later she felt Gilbert take a step closer to her, and her heart beat resumed its incredible pace. She moved away to the other side of the loft almost immediately to try and lower the other stand to meet the other. Gilbert frowned as she moved away.

Y/n lowered the stand with a decisive press, making sure it was level with the one on the other side. Miss Lind was struggling to gather all the actors together on the stage to start from the top of the show, meaning that soon Y/n and Gilbert would be forced into silence as they focused on the show. For Y/n, that couldn't come soon enough.

The show began within the next several minutes, during which Y/n and Gilbert sat in uncomfortable silence as they shuffled around the loft, rearranging things and ensuring everything was in its correct place. Y/n set the light and left it, knowing that she needn't change it for the majority of the show. Gilbert set the other light as well and saw Y/n wander back to the railing, leaning against it and holding onto it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He frowned.

In a moment, Y/n saw Gilbert lean backward onto the railing beside her out of the corner of her eye and stiffened, gritting her teeth. They stood there for a moment with Gilbert trying to figure out to phrase his approach and Y/n hoping against all hopes that he didn't try to say anything.

But, of course, he did. "I know something is wrong." he whispered.

"Shh," was all Y/n said in response, using the ongoing show in front of them as an excuse to shush him.

Gilbert's frown grew deeper, but he pushed on nonetheless. "Is this about earlier? Because what Mr. Philips said―"

"Shh," she said, more forcefully.

"Y/n." said Gilbert, taking her hand from the railing and holding it in his. Y/n looked down at it, her heart skipping a beat. Gilbert tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them craned down. "Y/n, look at me."

She bit her lip. How could she explain to Gilbert something she didn't fully understand herself?

Slowly, she looked up, worry knitting her brows together.

"Tell me what's wrong." Gilbert pleaded quietly. "Whatever it is, I want to help. I don't like it when...I don't like seeing you upset. So, come on. Talk."

Y/n, overcome with worry, looked away, fixing her eyes on the stage. She had a chance―a chance to do something that had the power to completely upend her and Gilbert's friendship. But she didn't think she could stand regret.

"I like you." Y/n mumbled.

Gilbert absently reached for Y/n's hand on the railing, a smile forming on his lips. Then, in one swift motion, Gilbert moved forward and pressed his lips on hers. Y/n, shocked, nearly jumped out of her skin. But, almost in an instant, she relaxed into his touch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

But a moment later she pulled away, fear worming its way back into her mind. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know―"

Gilbert interrupted her by throwing his hands on her waist, pulling her in. "You and I know, and I think that's―that's more than enough, love."

Y/n smiled, the fear melting away as she looked at Gilbert.

"Hey!" came the shrill voice of Miss Lind. "That's the light cue! What's going on up there?"

"Nothing!" Gilbert and Y/n yelled in unison, scrambling back to their posts on the loft, hiding their smiles.

Author's Note: AHHHHHH MY FIRST FIC!! I've had this one in my head for a while now, but @urfriendlywriter 's prompts just really nailed it into my head that I needed to write it. I've been binging AWAE as school started and...I gotta say...I'm a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes. And the title, inspired by a Hozier song, just fits the vibe of the show so well I love it. But yeah! Enjoy my first fic and send in any and all requests you got!

<3 Gracie

[thepenultimateword]

okay so:

I had a dream about this one idea where everyone makes fun of villain for whatever reason. Villain starts to believe all those things, still feels terrible of course, but finds it easier to deal with it all when they just accept those "jokes" as truth.

But well, since I'm a sucker for villain x villain stuff, Supervillain swoops in to help them out of their misery

Thanks a lot in advance and have a wonderful day ❤️♥️

*Me reading this ask*

My villain x supervillain heart can’t resist. (May just be my favorite ship, even more than hero x villain. Just something about two crime-hardened people being soft for each other)

CW: Bullying, panic attack

"Smile~," the hero said, the big black eye of their phone camera reflecting Villain's queasy face.

The colors were muted, but even so, their skin was far too pale. Their lips seized somewhere between a grimace and a glare. A scribbled line of a mouth that gated off the burn rising in the back of their throat and anything else that might let it loose, even their own words of defense.

They didn't even know who this hero was. They were just some start-up who jumped them in one of the back allies. What was worse was this wasn't the first time. Not even close. Every hero seemed to have eyes on them these days. Even some civilians got the courage to gang up together and get in on the fun.

"Come on," the hero insisted, pouting their lips like they were talking to a baby. "Just one little smile."

Villain swallowed hard on the bile, wincing at the way it scalded on the way down, and shakily rose the corners of their lips. This was fine. It was just a stupid trend. People would forget about it soon. And maybe it was funny. Villain certainly had never met anyone else with such an...interesting reaction to fear. People liked it because it was weird. It was just a joke.

Villain's eyes burned. They'd been wearing these contacts for too long. The wetness pricking in the corner of their eyes stung like salt in a wound.

Wait. Wetness? Were they crying?

No, please. Not now. Not here. Not with their hands bound to a back alley waterspout and this vigilante nobody putting them on their live stream for the whole world to laugh at.

"Aww, why are you crying, buddy? You're just fine. I mean, I've barely touched you aside from those bonds. You're not actually frightened already are you?"

Logically, Villain should be fine. They'd won against stronger heroes than this idiot. So why couldn't they move?

“N-no…” Villain choked weakly. They had meant to shout it, but as soon as their mouth was open, they felt any force on their stomach muscles would be their doom.

Their heart pounded in their ears at this point and it was hard to get enough air with their mouth clamped shut. Dark spots flecked their vision, but the alternative seemed much worse.

No, Villain wasn't frightened. They were terrified.

This hero might be a rookie, but Villain didn't know them. They didn't know what they were going to do to them. Whether this joke extended further than their humiliation. What their limits were. And it was the same story with most of their attackers these last three months. Ever since a reporter caught Villain puking on video in response to Other Hero pinning them in a corner and nearly killing them. They should be somewhat thankful for that; Other Hero's shock had given them the few seconds needed to escape. But in this moment, with so many people talking, so many people watching...it was hard not to see that as a catalyst for a nightmare.

It wasn't the only thing of course...there were also the tics: handwringing during monologues, giving up on schemes when it turned out none of the heroes they were used to were coming, etc. Half a villain the media called them. Because some part of them must be a hero for how much they foiled themself.

Yeah...maybe that was funny. Maybe Villain just needed to understand the joke better, and they would stop being so scared. Maybe if they just went along, things would get better.

"Alright, viewers," the hero said cheerily, "what do you say we spice things up a little."

They moved in closer, and Villain huddled back against the brick wall behind them.

"Now, now, don't freak out. I'm just going to ask questions, and you're going to tell us some things. Things we've all been curious about. Like why you do it."

Villain squeezed their eyes shut as if doing so could hide them from the hero's prickling smirk. They didn't want to talk about this. They didn't want to talk about this. They didn't want to--

"Get that phone out of their face before I choke you with it."

Villain wasn't sure who said it, but there was a yelp and the scrape of two pairs of shoes scuffling in the gravel, and then the pounding of one pair running away. When they opened their eyes, the hero was gone. In their place stood a face they'd only seen on television. Well-dressed, unnaturally attractive, and sharp, diamond-cutting eyes boring into their soul: Supervillain.

Villain gaped. People like Villain didn't just run into people like Supervillain. Maybe they were both criminals, but they were in completely different classes. Supervillain was untouchable. They didn't even bother hiding when they went out because not even the heroes had developed a good protocol to stop them. The media compared them to a cat swatting at flys.

And now they were right here. This...this was...

They doubled over and vomited into their own lap.

Nooo.

The shame blanketed them in a hot haze, and their upper lip went cool with a gathering sheen of sweat. Villain twisted away from Supervillain's face before they could see their disgusted expression. "I'm sorry. I--" They scrunched small and pressed their forehead against the cool brick, swallowing the sour taste trapped in the dry of their mouth several times before mustering up a few more words. "Thank you. Thank you, but... Please go."

"That must hurt." Gentle fingers touched their raw wrists where the ropes pinched and scraped. Something cold and metal laid across Villain's forearm and pressed through the small space beneath the bonds.

Villain flinched and whirled their head back around just in time to see the rope slacken and flutter to the gravel. They stared at the mess of frayed cord for several moments before forcing their gaze toward the master criminal.

Supervillain twirled the long blade back into a holster on their side. A moment later, they unclipped their cape and swept it around Villain's shoulders, fussing with the folds a moment before bundling them up in their arms.

"N-no," Villain protested gripping awkwardly to Supervillain's arm through the fabric as their feet were taken out from under them. "You shouldn't touch me. I-I'll ruin your cape."

"I get it dry cleaned twice a week," Supervillain said, voice vibrating low and even in their chest. "It'll be fine."

Their arms squeezed a little tighter around Villain's form, and with a rush of air, the dark alley shrank and dropped out of sight. It wasn't even that Villain lost sight of it as Supervillain jumped; it was like the world literally folded it out of existence, leaving them sailing through dark nothing. Villain tried to make sense of it, but they were already in a daze, and their lurching stomach wasn't making cognitive functions much easier. Most of the journey was a blur. So it was rather sudden when they found themself on their own two feet again in the middle of a bright, cream-colored living room.

Villain felt like a newborn deer blinking in their first surroundings. It was beautiful. Like something from a home decorating show. Suede sofa, plush rug, tall ceiling...

Supervillain stood to the side, steadily drinking them in, and Villain pulled the cape tighter around them, as if it could shield them from Supervillain's view and hide their obvious displacement . One worn shoe tread halfway over the cream rug and when they edged onto the hard floor, it left an ugly, gray smear.

Villain's eyes leaped up to Supervillain's in a panic, but the master criminal simply looked down and up again. They smiled.

"Why don't you take a shower? Make it as long as you want. I'll leave some clothes outside the door. We'll talk when you're done."

Villain stared.

"Bathroom is straight down this hall. Use any of the products you find; I have a lot."

Villain nodded numbly and unsure what else to do, followed Supervillain's pointing finger into the master bathroom.

It was beautiful too. The bath looked more like a hot tub and the shower was like a walk-in closet. The mirror covered nearly the entire wall and only then did Villain realize how truly pathetic they looked, especially beside the rich, deep blue of Supervillain's cape. Hair a mess, eyes sunken, dirt all over their face, lips bloodless, and just overall small.

Villain broke eye contact with themself and began stripping away the dirty clothes, carefully folding the vomit stains inwards before gingerly piling them on the toilet. The air conditioning from the overhead vent sent a shiver down their spine, but it was nothing compared to the goosebumps still prickling their skin from the incident.

They turned the faucet up to nearly the hottest setting and let all that cold fear and alley grime wash down the drain. Steam gathered comfortingly around them in humid lavender and mint as Villain busied themself with lathering their hair.

It took a long time for their uneasiness to fade, but once it had, they wrapped themself in one of the bathroom's plush towels and peeked outside the door to find a neatly folded pile of clothes: a fleece long-sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy drawstring sweats, all roughly their size.

They dressed quickly, and a little poking under the sink led them to a bottle of mouthwash that rid them of the sour bile taste lingering in their mouth.

Feeling significantly better, Villain padded out to the living room, clenched hands sunk deep into their pockets. They found Supervillain sprawled out across the sofa, a book pinched between thumb and forefinger. They looked up at the sound of Villain's footsteps.

"Ah," Supervillain swung their legs to the rug and waved Villain toward the pillow-covered arm chair across from them. "Please, sit.

Villain did so, hunching their shoulders and staring at their knees. "Um, so, thank you again for um…well…all this, but...what did you want to talk about?"

Why did you bring me here? That was the real question knocking around in Villain's head, but they didn't dare say it loud.

"I haven't introduced myself," Supervillain said, tone as if they'd truly only just realized. "Excuse me, I'm--"

"Th-that's ok," Villain interrupted peering up from under their lashes. "I know who you are."

Supervillain smiled, even looked somewhat flattered as they leaned their elbows on their knees. "Good. I'll be blunt then. I can change your image. That is, if you want."

Villain swallowed. “How?"

"The media is fickle," Supervillain said. "They drop the old for whatever's hot. It may not be exactly what you want, but if you present them with another story, one that overshadows your current image, it will be like all this other stuff never happened."

"And...what would that other story even be?" Villain asked, trying to feel out Supervillain’s angle. There was no way they were doing this out of the kindness of their heart.

Supervillain scooted onto the very edge of the sofa. They clasped their hands, unclasped them, laid them flat on their knees. "Perhaps your new relationship with me?"

Villain choked on their own breath. "My... my what?"

“Think about it! It’s the perfect solution! I’m the biggest name in villainy this city has ever seen, and that’s not my ego talking. No one would dare touch you knowing that you’re associated with me. And with a presence as strong as mine, after a few months, you’ll only be thought of as my partner. This ‘half a villain’ nonsense will fade away.”

Villain had a lot of things on their mind but the first thing that burst out was, "What if it backfires? What if I ruin your image?"

Supervillain chuckled like Villain had something silly. "Not gonna happen."

"So...we'd pretend to date?" Villain said slowly, still trying to figure out why Supervillain was doing this.

"Oh. Oh, no, no, I was thinking more of the real deal,” Supervillain said quickly. “I'm not really into confusing personal feelings with work. But hey, if you're not comfortable, I can see about giving you a job instead. It may take a slower course, but it should still do the trick."

Their smile remained pasted on, but their forehead creased and the nonchalant wave of their hand seemed stiff. They preferred the relationship idea. Not a fake one. A real one.

"Why would you want that?" Villain said.

"Um, because you're adorable?" Supervillain said without hesitation. "We have the same ideals, same job, there must be tons of other things we have in common. And you've got this defenseless vibe around you that I can't resist. I saw you in that first video, and I knew right away: that villain is going to be mine."

"I don't get it."

Villain’s voice cracked without warning. They clenched their fists, but they were already trembling. Was Supervillain in on this too? Was there a hidden camera somewhere amongst all this finery? Ready to broadcast Villain's gullibility? That had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense. There was no way Supervillain—Supervillain!—was interested in them of all people.

“What about that video could have appealed to you? The whole city saw what happened, maybe the whole world. Everyone saw what a joke I was. It's hilarious how bad I am at being a villain. And all those weird things I do, fidgeting and throwing up and all the rest, they must be funny too because I'm a trend now. Why would you involve yourself with that? I'm a total embarrassment!"

Without warning, Supervillain's warm hand slid over their cheek and cupped the left side of their face. Villain wasn’t sure when they crossed the room, but here they were crouched in front of them. They tipped their head up at them, and those shiny eyes drilled earnestly into their eye sockets, maybe saw right through them. Their faces were still a couple feet apart, but it felt as if Supervillain was whispering straight in their ear.

"I want to protect you."

"W-what?"

"Let me protect you," Supervillain said.

Villains mouth had gone completely dry. This whole situation was strange, but a part of them wanted to believe it was true. They were just so tired of hurting.

"Prove that you really want to,” they finally said. “If you can…then ok.”

“That should be easy enough,” Supervillain grinned. They leaned in closer, hands bracing on either armrest. The heat of their breath ghosted against their cheek.

Villain squeezed their eyes shut and tried to steady their trembling. They weren’t prepared for this!

Supervillain’s forehead knocked against Villain’s, the tips of their noses just shy of brushing and… And then they stopped.

Villain cracked open their eyes. Supervillain stared straight through them, irises alive with a deep fire. Gone was the sharp, measuring look they’d maintained most of the night. This was hungrier, more destructive. Without breaking eye contact, they gently rubbed their forehead back and forth against Villain’s.

“I’ll start with the one who hurt you tonight.”

Part Two

[kockatriceking]

whole buncha sketches of Llwelyn Winters, my Fallout OC. he's not any of the protagonists, he's just your average friendly travelling trader who sells delicious food and other scraps. a regular guy, apart from his albinism

...well, he can transform into a Deathclaw. that's probably not so average, actually.

Llwelyn's parents weren't vault dwellers- born and bred Wastelanders, his father was a trader while his mother was a hired gun. They stumbled across Vault 298 when on their travels, seeking refuge from deathclaw attacks.

There they met Dr Rald. The Dr was the last of the Vault Dwellers of 298, but not through luck- no, he engineered their deaths. He had experimented on each and every one of them, mutating them beyond viability, in a quest to create the ultimate survivalist. Somehow he convinced Llwelyn's parents of his noble goals, and his mother agreed to be experimented on.

It would be her demise.

Llwelyn tore his way from her womb when he first transformed. The young Deathclaw then turned on his father, and would've killed the Doctor if he hadn't sealed the medical chamber's doors against him. But was Dr Rald rightly horrified at his actions? No. He was simply in awe that at last his creation had worked- he had created a perfect survivalist, the perfect predator- a Deathclaw that could disguise itself as a human. He continued to experiment on Llwelyn, the child growing up under an influx of chems, radiation, and bioengineering. Making him faster, stronger, tougher, giving him the regenerative abilities of a lizard, the heat-sensing ability of a snake, and of course the all powerful strength of a Deathclaw. There were drawbacks, of course. Llwelyn's snow-white skin being one of them. His albinism makes him not only highly distinctive, but affects his vision poorly and leaves him vulnerable to bright lights. The other setback was the pain of transformation- staying in the human form hurts, aching bone-deep pain that's unaffected by chems. He's immune to them all by now anyway.

Unfortunately, the Doctor was not a particularly pleasant parent, and his own personality is what caused his demise. He frequently forced Llwelyn to fight and kill other Wasteland creatures, from radroaches to dogs to fellow deathclaws. Eventually he began bringing in raiders. Traders. People. All to "test" Llwelyn's strength, his loyalty, his weaknesses.

He finally decided on Llwelyn's 13th birthday that he was old enough to truly test his mettle in the Wastelands. Believing Llwelyn sufficiently broken, and would never leave his father figure, he arrogantly didn't use any kind of preventative measure to stop the youth from leaving.

The moment Llwelyn stepped outside he was gone.

The Doctor hunted him. Of course he did. Posters and bounties for the snow-white deathclaw still can be found in the settlements around Vault 298. It was described as a legendary beast, a powerful monster nigh unkillable with its rapid regeneration and quick thinking mind. He wanted it caught alive- but would pay handsomely for its corpse. He also offered a bounty for his wayward runaway son, a simpleton who just didn't understand the dangers of the Wasteland. Many money-hungry glory hunters sought the albino deathclaw. None ever made it back. The hunters slowly dwindled even as the money grew. Nobody wanted to fight something so horrific as that. The Doctor grew desperate. Too old to hunt Llwelyn himself, without the aid of Wastelanders he had no chance.

Until someone finally answered the bounty call.

Llwelyn himself.

Now 20, the boy's time in the Wastes had changed him. He'd met a kind lone wanderer who'd also escaped a vault and who offered him company in the empty lands. The kind stranger taught him everything about the Wastes, taking on the boy as a wayward son. They'd parted ways with much sadness but also many happy memories, and now Llwelyn returned alone to finish his own personal quest.

He killed Doctor Rald.

Free at last from the good doctor's influence.

The rumours of the white deathclaw never stopped, despite it never being seen. It's said it was the one that tore apart Dr Rald, the man offering its bounty, as some kind of retribution.

Whatever the story, it's something the lonely trader isn't interested in telling. He's just come to the Commonwealth and is far more interested in selling his wares to the people of Diamond City than silly stories about scary monsters. No, it's not odd that he sleeps outside of the protective walls of Diamond City, in nothing but a simple tent. Plenty of people survive sleeping rough. Raiders and radscorpions and super-mutants and ghouls aren't that common. No, he's never seen nor heard any Deathclaws about. They don't commonly reside near Diamond City anyway. It's probably just rumours and imagination. Yes, he's heard about the band of raiders found ripped to shreds nearby. Probably just super-mutants and their hounds. Nothing to worry about. Incidentally, would you like to buy his new stock of guns? Still smokin' hot!

[dweetwise]

[Riconti] Unravel

A soulmate AU because it's been like three years since I wrote one <3 Rated T | 3.3k words | ao3 link

At nine years old, Felix saw the red string around his finger for the first time.

His parents were in awe when he told them. Most people didn't have a soulmate, and his mother and father told him all about the ancient powers that still lingered in this world, the fate that bound two people together even across continents. Felix had only seen soulmates in cartoons, where the princess and prince would follow their red strings to eventually find each other and live happily ever after.

Felix's father said he must be very special to have been chosen as someone's soulmate.

Even though Felix was excited, he told no one but his parents. This was something that belonged to him: only he and his soulmate could see their string. And even when his classmates bullied him and he had no friends, Felix just needed to look at his hand to know that he wasn't alone. Even if all the other kids called him stupid and weird, there was someone out there who would be his friend.

Felix's parents said that his soulmate was like his very own princess and that he'd marry her one day, but Felix grimaced at that. Kissing was gross and he was never going to get married, but his mother only laughed and said he'd understand when he was older.

-

At fourteen, Felix made his first friend.

He was sitting alone on a bench while the other kids played football or gossiped in groups further away. All of their parents were having some sort of secret meeting in the old mansion on Dyer Island and Felix hated being left out, because none of the other kids ever talked to him.

At least not until Élodie.

They'd never even met before, but that day Élodie walked right up to Felix moping in his bench, politely introduced herself, and then promptly dragged him along to explore the grounds of the estate.

Over the summer, other kids joined them—other outcasts who didn't fit in—and for the first time in his life, Felix finally had friends.

But Élodie was special. She understood Felix like nobody but his parents had ever done, and he felt like he could talk about anything with her.

She was the first person beside his parents he told about his soulmate.

Élodie's face lit up and she was happy, so happy for Felix that he couldn't quite understand it. She told him that her grandparents were soulmates and that they were perfect for each other, happily married for over fifty years and also each others' best friends.

Felix blushed and ducked his head and said that he couldn't see anyone wanting to marry him, but Élodie brushed him off. She was so certain that Felix's soulmate would want to be with him forever, because that was the whole point—it was a person picked just for him, because the universe knew that there was nobody who would love him more.

Felix ran his finger over the red string and smiled. "I hope I get to meet her one day."

Élodie went unusually quiet, but when Felix looked up she smiled again and said they should search the island for more secrets.

-

When Felix was seventeen, his father disappeared.

That entire autumn, Felix's days went by in a blur and his evenings were spent lying in his bed and staring up at the ceiling, listening to his mother crying herself to sleep and knowing there were nothing but nightmares waiting for him as soon as he closed his eyes.

His soulmate was the only reason Felix got through that dark time in his life.

Felix would toy with the red thread, twine it around his fingers, pull on it or just watch it: red, vibrant and always pointing west.

The routine was a comfort. His father had been taken from him and he felt so alone, but there was still someone out there for him. And that was worth pushing through for.

-

At twenty, Felix realized that his soulmate was traveling.

The string no longer pointed just west. Sometimes Felix would wake up and find it pointing southwest, or south, or even east. It usually didn't stay in one place too long, so it was apparent that his soulmate traveled a lot.

It became a routine for Felix to cross-check his soulmate's location during boring university lectures. He'd discreetly pull out a compass from his pencil case and look at the map he had stashed between his textbooks, seeing which direction the string pointed and what major cities were in its line.

New York. Madrid. Tokyo. London. Miami. Rio. Las Vegas. Sydney. They all got jotted down into the notebook that Felix carried with him almost everywhere, and he'd read about the cities later at home in his father's old encyclopedias.

It was fun to see what his soulmate was up to. Felix wondered what she did: maybe she was famous, or a few years older than him, with a job that required this much international travel.

Regardless, it was fun to learn about the world through his soulmate.

-

At twenty-seven, Felix had the possibility to start his own architect studio.

His former university classmate Lauren had brought up the idea. Felix knew they worked well together and they'd both been top of their class, but it was a huge risk. Neither of them had experience in anything but assisting roles in the studios they worked at, and trying to break into the competitive industry without a recognizable name or a big studio's backing was next to impossible.

But when Felix stood over his bathroom sink, gripping the edges with trembling fingers and knowing he wanted to do it but wasn't sure if he was brave enough…

That was when something tugged on his red string.

Felix jolted and held his hand up, staring at it in awe even if the sensation didn't repeat. He'd heard that sometimes soulmates felt each other's thoughts or emotions if the situation was important—as if fate knew that it was a key moment in their lives.

"You think I should, huh?" Felix said, smiling.

Ten minutes later, he called Lauren and accepted her offer.

-

When he was thirty-one, Felix flew to a business conference in San Francisco.

It was his first time in America and he hadn't gotten any sleep on the plane, too transfixed by watching the direction of his red string change the closer he got to his destination. When the string had pointed south and down at an angle, it had been in the direction of Los Angeles, and Felix chuckled as he imagined his soulmate equally confused that Felix was traveling so close to her for the first time.

After the conference was over, Felix considered taking a detour home to try and follow the string to his soulmate, since it would probably only be a few hour car ride.

Before he could make up his mind, a surge of sensation flooded him: laughter and euphoria that wasn’t his, the sight of flashing lights and a stack of poker chips. He was at a casino, except he couldn’t be, because he was still in his hotel room, but he looked down at cards he was apparently holding and felt victory—

And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the vision vanished and Felix was left shaking and disoriented. Apparently he'd been wrong about two things: his soulmate was currently in Vegas and not LA, and…

His soulmate was a man. Felix couldn't say how he knew that, but he felt it deep in his bones, like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

Felix boarded the first flight home and wore gloves the entire trip, not looking back once.

-

At thirty-four, Felix told his girlfriend that he might be bisexual.

She just smiled and hugged him, and then thanked him. Why she was so happy, Felix didn't know, because he was trembling and so afraid that something bad would happen as soon as he said it out loud.

Then his girlfriend gently clasped his hand and raised it, looking at Felix with a meaningful smile and a silent question in her eyes.

Is your soulmate a man?

Felix managed a small nod.

"But I don't want to—" he started.

"I know," she said. "This doesn't change anything. We're happy together."

Felix sighed in relief and hugged her close.

-

When Felix was thirty-five, he woke up one morning and everything felt wrong.

He checked his temperature and took some ibuprofen for the sensation that wasn't quite a headache, but more of a lack of something that had his body on edge and aching.

When he grasped his red string for comfort, his hand only grabbed air. Felix looked down, and—

His red string had gone gray and partially translucent.

Felix cried in his girlfriend's arms the entire morning.

-

At thirty-six, Felix felt hopeless.

He’d seen countless specialists and mediums and scoured the internet for any information about the soul bond fading. He'd even had his eyesight checked for colorblindness, but no, his red string was still gray and barely visible and the change had nothing to do with Felix's eyes.

On the plus side, all sources said that a soulmate's death makes the red string either cut off—leaving a dangling thread in its place—or disappear altogether. Which meant that Felix's soulmate was still alive.

But the string had pointed west the entire year at the exact same angle, instead of his soulmate's usual travels of every month or so. Thus, the most likely theory was that his soulmate was in a deep coma. Not dead, but fading from this world.

Felix would never meet him. Felix had squandered his one opportunity to meet him because of his own stupid self-doubts, and now his soulmate was dying without ever talking to Felix. 

That was when Felix hit the bottle.

-

When Felix was thirty-nine, his ex-girlfriend called and said she was pregnant with his child.

His first reaction was to look at his hand: at the useless, barely-there gray line of disappointment instead of the bright red string of fate that would bring him to his soulmate.

Felix emptied all the liquor bottles in the sink and bought every baby book he could find, promising his ex he would participate in their lives to the extent that he was able to. Only a couple months had passed since the breakup and he didn't know how co-parenting would work, especially since she had moved back to Belgium to live with her parents.

But he had to try. Felix might have failed both his soulmate and his girlfriend, but he would not fail his child.

-

One month later, Felix traveled to Dyer Island for his newest project.

It was painful seeing the places he used to walk with his dad or play games with Élodie and the others. It had been over a decade since he’d even talked to any of the Pariahs—even longer since he’d last seen his mother.

Would Felix’s life ever be anything but disappointing those closest to him?

Felix was deep in thought and self-pity when a thick fog enveloped him. Wisps of darkness blocked out the sun and his surroundings and Felix would have screamed, would have ran, but…

His father was standing there, in the thickest part of the fog, beckoning Felix to follow him into the darkness.

Felix stood frozen. He wanted to believe this really was his father, but he wasn't stupid: he knew the ancient powers that lurked beneath this island and the tricks they could play on you.

Out of old habit, Felix glanced at his string for guidance—

And the formerly translucent and dead thread was red and solid again. And it didn't point west anymore: it pointed straight north and into the fog.

Without hesitation, Felix walked forward and into the darkness.

-

Felix knew pretty soon that he wasn't on Earth anymore. Or probably even on the same plane of existence.

There was an eerie forest and machines to be repaired. A specter flickering in and out of visibility and making Felix's heart beat frantically as he hid. Bone-curdling screams that occasionally echoed through the forest.

But Felix's string glowed red and bright and pointed to one of the large gates behind the decrepit shack, so Felix shoved his hands back into the machine he instinctively knew to repair and bolted out of the gate as soon as it opened.

Outside, there was nothing but fog.

Thick, gray fog that enveloped him completely, so much more oppressive than on the island, until it felt like Felix was standing in the middle of nothingness.

Normally, Felix would have panicked. He probably should have panicked, from the fog and the screams and his father and everything before it. But instead, he followed the red string that pointed straight ahead, guiding him through the darkness. Guiding him to his soulmate.

Because Felix's soulmate wasn’t dead or in a coma. He'd been taken by the fog and was stuck here, a dimension away. The bond between them had faded but even with universes between them, it hadn't broken.

Felix's soulmate was here, and millennia ago it had been decided by fate that they would meet right here, right now.

-

When Felix saw a warm glow in the fog and heard distant laughter, his red string was shining vibrantly and practically pulsating with light.

He stepped into a small campsite around a fire that instantly seemed like home, and the two dozen people seated around the fire sprang to action. Some were standing up to talk to Felix, others were waving from further away, and some were whispering amongst themselves.

Felix's eyes anxiously flitted over the group. It wasn't clear who his string pointed to since they were all seated so close to each other. Was he just supposed to know, or…?

"Hello!"

Felix jolted in surprise and turned to face a young man who had walked up to him.

"You're new here, right?" the man said, pushing his glasses up his nose and smiling uncertainly. "You must be really confused, so let me explain…"

Felix tuned out the words as he regarded the man. He looked kind but nervous, a little like Felix himself, but Felix knew that this person wasn't for him.

"We call them trials—"

"Excuse me," Felix interrupted rudely, making the man stutter in surprise.

Felix didn't have time to worry about him. He turned back to the group at large; most were regarding him with a mixture of both intrigue and suspicion, while the rest had already gone back to whatever they'd been doing before Felix arrived.

On instinct, Felix grabbed his red string and circled it around his hand…

"What the hell is he doing?" he heard someone murmur, because to them it looked like he was grabbing air.

And then Felix pulled on the string as hard as he could.

"Ow!"

Every single person turned to look at a man seated cross-legged on the ground. He had playing cards scattered on his lap and was grimacing while rubbing his gloved hand.

Him, something in Felix's soul sang, even though he couldn't see much of the man’s face with the sunglasses and baseball cap he was wearing. It's him.

"You alright, dude?" a girl in a beanie asked Felix's soulmate, placing her own cards on the ground and frowning at him.

"Peachy." The man grinned and Felix's heart skipped a beat. He watched as his soulmate tugged on his glove, and—

A bright red glow sprang from his bare hand, bathing the man's face in a reddish hue. The string pulled taut between them, starting from each of their fingers and meeting in the middle, drawing a clear line between them.

Felix could barely breathe.

His soulmate slowly took off his sunglasses, staring down at his hand and then following the thread up to Felix's with his gaze.

Wide brown eyes blinked twice, thrice.

"Holy shit."

-

Three months later—or what Adam and Claudette had calculated to be three months in Earth time—a familiar face walked up to the campfire.

Felix almost dropped the toolbox he was stocking as he recognized her.

"Élodie!?"

She turned to look at him, and despite the fights and hurt and a decade of avoiding each other, she smiled.

"Felix!"

Felix didn't know how they started hugging and he didn't care. He only squeezed Élodie tight and murmured, "Not the kind of adventure you're used to, huh?" into her curly hair, making her laugh wetly.

And when they pulled apart and Élodie started asking him how and why, Felix tugged on his red string out of habit.

Élodie's eyes went wide. "Is that…?"

"Oye, I was napping!" a disgruntled complaint came from the fire, and then Felix's hand twitched as the other end of the string was yanked in retaliation.

Felix smiled at Élodie and ducked his head; feeling every bit the self-conscious yet hopeful fourteen-year old again.

"He's usually more polite," Felix mumbled.

Soon enough, Felix heard footsteps and felt a familiar body draping itself against his side.

"You called, your highness?" Ace said, his voice laced with both sleep and humor as he rested his head on Felix's shoulder.

"I wanted you to meet—" Felix started.

"Oh!" Ace only then seemed to notice Élodie, immediately pushing away from Felix enough to extend his hand. "Ciao, bella! Ace Visconti, at your service." He winked. 

Felix rolled his eyes.

Élodie, however, only grinned brightly as she returned the handshake. "Élodie Rakoto. You're Felix's soulmate."

"Nooo, what makes you say that?" Ace smirked and waved his left hand around, making Felix's flop mid-air as the string was tugged taut.

"Very funny," Felix deadpanned even as Élodie laughed.

"Wait—hold on," Ace said, thankfully lowering his hand. "You said Èlodie?" He glanced at Felix in question. "Like the Pariahs…?"

"Yup!" Élodie said. "Childhood friend of Felix's." She looked at each of them in turn, then smiled mischievously. "And for the record, I knew twenty-five years ago."

Ace tilted his head while Felix floundered for a response.

That was why Élodie had been so strange that one time. Felix had talked about meeting his female soulmate, and somehow, Élodie had known that his soulmate might be a man.

"Well, while Felix here is busy catching flies…" Ace patted Felix's chest. "Do you want a tour of the place? Full disclosure, I expect embarrassing childhood stories about him in return." Ace offered his elbow to Élodie.

Élodie snorted and linked her arm with Ace's. "Ah, mon cher, you're even better than I thought you would be."

Felix watched dumbly as his soulmate walked off gossiping with the best friend he had ever had, and somehow, he knew that this was right where he was supposed to be.

His child and their mother would inherit all his assets in the real world after he was proclaimed missing. They'd be able to live in Belgium full-time and have all the support from his ex's family. Felix's mother would finally get to sell the Richter manor, and Lauren would be able to take their studio in a direction that fully reflected her own style.

And even if Felix’s father was truly gone, he’d want nothing but for Felix to be happy.

Laughter pulled Felix out of his thoughts and he saw Ace and Élodie chatting with Kate and Jeff, Kate giggling into her hand and looking at Felix due to something Élodie said.

Felix only smiled to himself before he walked over to join them. It didn’t matter what his life had been before this or how many mistakes he’d made.

These people were his family now, and he knew he wouldn’t let them down.

[existentialterror]

hi this is probably SUCH a weird ask to receive but im scrolling your light tag in a fit of autism and saw you refer to lament (thats lament right? ihavent missed some critical light lore where she has a fiance who isn't troy lament?) as butch and its been sending me into a conniption. is lament a butch. is it real. me and my friend have had our own butch lesbian troy lament mindscape for months now.were we right all along. i feel like im going insane.

omg no you are so good, I am incredibly flattered. (Listen, PSA to anyone who's worried about being weird about Light to me: it's no problem, it's really hard to be weirder about Light than I am and I'll be impressed rather than freaked out if you are. It's chill.) That tag actually wasn't about Lament! This is about her late (or, if she was in fact swallowed up by an antimeme and is still kicking, "late") fianceee. I could have sworn that there was a detail about her late fianceee on my author page, but looking now, there definitely isn't and has never been one. What was I thinking of? Maybe an old rp character sheet? ... You know what, I'm putting that on there right now, because fuck it.

LOVE WINS!

Anyway, this is part of the vast amount of Light lore that mostly only exists in my head and draft files.* The late fiancee's name is Mars. Her other appearance on the site is in Soulless's tale all I ever wanted; all I ever deserved, which is where the Mars-As-Nobody concept came from, and which is quite lovely writing.

Here are some Mars facts for interested audiences:

Very butch

Also a scientist; worked with Light in the regular world. Neither of them had any conception of the anomalous before The Incident.

Light loved and misses her very much.

Dedicated transhumanist

Light attributes her strong moral compass to Mars having one. Unclear if this is actually true given that the other Lights (O5-2, etc) also seem to have a strong utilitarian moral compass and don't have their own Mars - but this would be surprising news to Light herself.

She and Light lived in a ricketty little one-bedroom apartment together and kept pet finches.

So that's who that's about. But none of this contradicts with butch Lament, certainly. Get him in here. Good for him! I love that.

I feel like there's some space you could explore here about new Foundation recruits who have their whole memory erased, and the new identity they put together... could be wildly different from the old one. The Foundation might encourage that as a way of separating them from their past. Like, you don't have to go there with Lament specifically, but you could.

I also think the idea of Light having a type is cute. Lament and Mars have never met each other. But if they were to meet they'd see the other and maybe size each other up a little and be like "...yeah, okay, that checks out."

-----

*... I may be working on something. Watch this space.

[originalfireemblemscenarios]

Ahhh! Camilla's birthday on the 30th and now Jakob's today?! It's hard to keep up!

Would you be open to write some kind of scenario for them with F!Corrin separately? I'd like you to have fun with this since you like Jakob! My only real request is that you keep the Camilla and F!Corrin one platonic/sisterly haha.

But yay! Love you, and excited to see what you write!

TO SAY THAT I *LIKE* JAKOB IS SAYING A LITTLE.

Also I wanted to make it as just random scenarios but while I was writing for Jakob it kinda carried me there so I thought I'll make something birthday related for Camilla too!

Jakob and Camilla with Corrin birthday scenario

Corrin here is female

Camilla's scene is platonic!

Jakob

Although he still remained as the person who dislikes mornings the most, he wasn't nearly as grumpy as before.

That is of course all thanks to his wife. Waking up next to her fills him with joy... But as he has his duties to fulfill, he often can't afford to stay with her for long.

So he sometimes could be found muttering "And to think I had to leave her for this" whenever he's annoyed by almost anything.

Imagine his surprise when he woke up and saw Corrin awake right next to him. For a second he thought he had overslept but she only smiled and excitedly said "Happy birthday dear" she couldn't allow anyone else to wish him a happy birthday before her after all.

He was so moved by it his usual morning behavior was out of the window. He was so happy he could cry. That morning he acted like nothing could worsen his mood, all thanks to Corrin.

She also insisted on helping him a little with his usual work (which took a lot of convincing) so they could enjoy more free time together.

It was so romantic, and she made sure to avoid everyone at all costs so nobody disturbed them once they went on their date.

It felt like they were in their own world. Nothing mattered but where they were there and then.

They talked, enjoyed tea, warmed each other up after coming back inside after being out in that ridiculously low temperature... It was their little heaven on earth.

It was definitely one of the best days he had in his life. And it set him for a good mood for more than just that day.

To the others it was very unusual to see Jakob act like that. But it didn't last for too long because before they knew it, he was back to normal. To his wife on the other hand he was the sweetest person he could be.

Camilla

There was a lot of things that she wanted to do with her sister. But recently Corrin had little to none time to spare for Camilla. Which made her disappointed to say the least.

She just wanted to relax, maybe have a spa day or even just take a nap together. Anything to see her adorable sister smile.

It got to a point where she wondered if they'd get the sibling bonding time at all. Ever since Corrin's "reunion with the Hoshido royals" nothing was like it used to be.

It made her quite mad, so she did scout around to have something to take her anger out on.

When she finally was back she felt guilty to find out that Corrin was looking for her. But it didn't take long before the sisters met.

Without any explanation Corrin told her to follow, so that's exactly what she did.

It turned out that even though yes war did keep her occupied, her most recent busyness was due to her plans for a surprise party. It was all for Camilla's birthday.

She was so glad to see that her sister was as sweet as ever. Although she paid attention to everyone at the party she did end up having Corrin make a few plans and promises.

So for the next week they had a lot of plans together to make up for all of that ignoring.

Ever since that incident they made sure to always have at least a day in a month dedicated strictly to bonding together. Of course they'd hang out more than just that. However that day will be special for both of them.

~Mod Bernadetta

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Master - Chapter 51 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

- Lincoln -

The muscles in my legs throb, burning with the effort it takes to keep moving forward.

Each step felt like a spear was being driven up my body from the soles of my feet.

Still, I press on, searching through the narrowed vision my drooping eyelids allowed.

I look for dark brown curls, hazel eyes, a wide smile, praying that I'd glimpse any part of him.

But despite all the life I sensed around me, all the chittering creatures and blinding light above, none of it belonged to my light, to my Kalem.

My face grows wet again, lined by the evidence of my shame.

I'd promised to keep him safe.

I'd told him time and time again that we'd never part, that no other would ever hurt him, that we were forever... and I'd failed him.

I'd failed my love.

The tears fall faster as the weight of my failure floods me once again.

"Lincoln," Wenquie whispers again, his voice uncharacteristically fragile.

I couldn't deal with them right now. 

They'd tell me that I needed to come home, to strategize instead of searching desperately with no lead.

But I couldn't stay still, behind the walls of the castle when there were still stones that hadn't been turned.  

I try to muster my energy so I could evade them again but it's harder this time, my body barely managing another staggering step forward.

"I need to find him," I rasp, looking around the little spaces I could.

There was nothing familiar about the area, nothing that could hint to where we were, it'd been two nights since I saw a thing I recognised.

Two nights since I'd seen him... heard his voice, seen his smile, felt his love that was always so abundant that it felt like a living, breathing thing he kept safe just for me.

It'd been two nights since someone had taken him from me.

The rage that consumes me once more, lends me the strength to press forward, past Malcolm and Wenquie to follow the scent of honey that had drawn me to this area in the first place.

I knew there was a slim chance that it was Kalem or even a mark of his sweet scent but if there was even a slight possibility, then I had to look.

I had to know, hope that maybe this would be it.

Maybe I'd finally find him and mend the tear in my soul his absence caused.

But when I stumble into the small opening of flowers and sunlight that spoke of all the things Kalem cherished, I don't spot him or anything that pointed to him. 

He wasn't here.

My heart threatens to crumble under the weight of the disappointment that only grew crueller the longer I was without him.

It made my mind reel with the knowledge that the longer I took to find him, the higher chance there'd be that the worst scenarios would become reality.

If Kalem was hurt...

Shoving my hand into my right pocket, I desperately thumb the bind of the small yellow notebook there.

I'd found it while searching through Kalem's old room before I'd realised... accepted, that I'd failed him and that someone had taken him from me. 

I hadn't stopped searching since but I kept the book with me.

It was a tiny thing, something I couldn't ever recall seeing him with but the marked pages were teeming with little notes that dated back for months.

Starting just shortly after I told him I loved him for the first time.

My name is Kalem and I am a strong boy.

I only have to make myself happy and nobody else.

Lincoln is mine and I am his.

His Kalem.

Not a slave.

I'm not a slave. 

The trainers taught me bad things because they're bad people but I know all the right things now.

No matter how many bad thoughts I have, I know I'm not a slave.

Lincoln taught me how to be free.  

The book was full of personal notes that Kalem had kept to himself all this time.

Like little reminders of all the things he'd learnt since we'd met, all the lessons I tried to teach him, all jotted down in this little book.

Now, it was the only thing that was stopping me from completely falling apart.

"We should've found him by now," I whisper when I hear Malcolm and Wequie emerge from the grove behind me. "We should've... he should be home by now."

"We will," Malcolm insists, sounding so sure despite the hopelessness of the situation.

I wanted to believe that it was his sight that allowed such faith but his inability to see anything definite outcome made that impossible.

"Everyone is looking, across all our territories," Wenquie promises, coming closer slowly, carefully. "I promise you Lincoln, we will find him."

They didn't understand.

"I taught him how to come home."

My fingers tighten around the book I cling to as I try to get the words out.

"I trained him to fight, to keep himself hidden if he had to, to escape the moment he saw a chance. I made sure he knew what to do if this ever happened. He should've come back by now."

Silence follows my words that break on the way out of my tightening throat.

"He should've come back by now."

Neither Malcolm nor Wenquie reply, knowing that any response would be to detail a horrific reality.

"He should've..." my words fall apart on themselves and my body does the same.

The world tilts on its axis but before I can meet the ground, Malcolm catches me in his arms and hoists me up with ease as he studies me with wet, grey pitiful eyes. 

"We'll find him," I hear him promise as my fatigue shuts me down.

Or maybe it was my shame, my unrelenting, cold shame at failing the one person I loved in this world.

My Kalem...

Months ago, after I'd returned from our first endeavour to grow the clan, Kalem and I had laid in bed, wrapped in one another's arms.

We'd been apart for only three days but it'd felt like an eternity and once we were together again, neither of us could bear to let the other go for more than a moment.

"It was the worst," Kalem has said while nuzzled against my neck, his arms so tight around me I could barely manage a breath. "Way worse than nightmares on my own and no cleaning."

I'd laughed, wondering how a person could be so loveable even when they were upset.

"When you were gone, it felt like a piece of me had gone too, Master," he'd continued in a low whine. "And without it, the other pieces didn't know how to work at all."

At the time, I'd thought that I knew exactly what he meant because I'd felt the same when we were apart.

But I hadn't, not truly.

I didn't know then, as I did now, the absolute agony that not having your heart and soul close to you could cause.

I didn't know the way that tormenting dark pit of loss could make it hard to breathe, to think, to do anything at all.

This went beyond not knowing how to function.

This, not knowing where he was, was like waking up in a nightmare, with no way out.

When I open my eyes, I find Wenquie at my side, peering down at me with golden, mournful eyes.

I could see in his gaze how hard it was for him to stay strong, to be stable while I was anything but.

I wasn't usually the one who spiralled.

Even in the worst situations of our lives, I'd been the one to be calm, to think of the best way forth amongst all the chaos.

But that was before I'd found the love of my life... and then lost him.

I try to sit up, to get myself moving so I could get back out there and find him but my body remains plastered to the bed I laid on.

No matter the force I put behind it, each movement comes as a slowed echo of the intent I placed on it.

Suddenly, the guilt in Wenquie's gaze made more sense.

"I'm only keeping you here until you're rested," he rushes to explain, his words laced with the pheromones that circled us and this room that was soaked in it. "You can't keep searching for him while you're this weak. If you get hurt, that won't help anyone, least of all, Kalem."

I try to voice the curses which stock my mind but my tongue was too heavy to get a word out in this sated state Wenquie had inflicted upon me.

Usually, an incubus' power wouldn't be enough to cripple me.

Their magic wasn't generally strong enough and even if it were, I kept my guard up at all times, especially when an incubus.

But Wenquie was older, stronger and I never kept my guard up around him.

I'd always trusted him to never do this to me.

"I know you hate me for this now but when we find Kalem and things are how they should be, you'll understand," Wenquie whispers but the words seemed like they were meant to convince him rather than me. "You were already running on fumes before this, so please, just trust us to keep searching and get some rest."

How could I rest when I didn't know where he was?

How could I lay here doing nothing when he might be suffering without me?

I plead with Wenquie where words wouldn't let me, begging him to free me so that we didn't waste any more time.

But he stays firm, wiping at his glossy eyes as his pheromones grow stronger, seeping under my skin with the clear command for me to rest. 

[muffindaddystyles]

Hearth.

A/N: I dunno if I've got any desi/brown/poc readers but if you're reading this I love you so much and you (us) deserve the same validation and representation others get.

Here's a blurb as to what it feels like celebrating Eid with Harry! Enjoy!

Warning: none — just loads of fluff.

More Inspos, Masterlist, Let's Talk

The night's pretty with murky clouds and thick layer of moon's brightness as Y/N cleans her flat, from scrubbing her Persian rugs to deep cleansing her vases back from her homeland. The flame evaporating from her candles scented like springs of Kashmir, flickers from her blowing sheer curtains due to the zephyr flurring outside.

She feels content, at peace waiting for Harry who promised that he'll be at her place by 11. He always comes an hour early helping her in setting the table before the iftari, they've been doing it together since the start of ramdan until today when he texted her he's busy along with a sad smiley.

It was fun. He fasted with her once or twice and would make sure she's hydrated enough once they break it, his love for rooh-afzah (it's a drink red in color made from essence of roses and some sweet herbs) will never fail to make her giggle as he'd demand for more after gulping two glasses already.

Then showing her his tummy along with his food pregnant jokes.

Her classes are online so it gave her time to experiment some cooking. They'd make samosas together and she always had an urge to hold back her cooes as his tongue used to poke out in concentration everytime his diligent fingers folded the samosa sheets skillfully.

"Did a pretty go'job here, innit?" He'd grin raising it like a summat trophy.

The moment he used to leave her flat (ofcourse after giving a tight hug before doing so) they both missed eachother terribly, y/n doesn't like the way her home falls into an abyss without his presence.

He's like a sunshine that warms her insides up.

The whistle of kettle and several raps of knocks on her door drags her from her fond memories of them together, she slings her feet down from the coffee table rushing to open it.

"Angel."

Harry says breathlessly prolly because he climbed three flight of stairs to get to her or that he's utterly flustered.

Her eyes remain struck at the thingies piled in his arms, a box of chocolates, many brown bags and stems of freshly blood ripped roses tucked between his knuckles.

He bought all of these gifts for her.

To make her feel like home.

To be her home.

What the fuck, nobody has ever done that for her —-- she just mighty cry.

Her mouths gupples like a fish too overwhelmed to react her emotions out and he gives her a sweet smile kicking the door shut with his feet -- gestures her to wait when she almost jumps like a cub to hug him and puts everything on the sofa knowing the things inside them's too delicate.

"C'mere, baby." He grins and she doesn't waste a moment falling in his embrace. Her cheeks smashes against his taught chest and she fists the hem of his shirt smiling too hard for her own sake as he sways them with his own rosy cheek squished against her temple.

"I love you so much, thank you." She murmurs gazing up at him with glinting eyes -- arms still lopped around his waist and his chin doubles adorably as he gives her his signature bunny grin kissing the tip of her nose, "Love you too bubba ... don't want ya homesick, at alllll."

The aggressive whistle of kettle parts them away, "Cuppa cha? Then we'll unwrap these pleasanteris." She points at the paper bags.

He nods flopping onto the floor cushions beside the large oak window of the balcony where they could bathe in moonlight.

"Thank you." He quips, kissing her fingertips while slipping his fingers under the handle of mug and takes it from her as she sits infront of him. He admires her for a second —- fawning over how she's looking so soft and cuddle-able wearing a baggy mauve kurta and some mismatched shalwar.

The tearing open of the stuffing tissue brings him back to focus --- this, he wanted to see this happiness dance over her features as she clutches the ethnic traditional dress he bought for her infront of her and when lifts it down he's met by overly excited eyes.

It's ethereal with golden details, handmade wire work and sheer fabric.

"It's gorgeous, pups." She squeezes his hand and he takes the sip of his cha smiling against the rim of the mug shyly, "Wasn't s' sure -- Sarah helped me in collecting stuff." Sarah's Y/N's bestfriend who was the only desi/brown in her filming class.

"No wonder she was being a lil sneak." Y/N chuckles already rummaging for what comes next.

He wanted to make sure he gets her everything they do traditionally in her culture and ate Sara's ears off to help him buy the most special thing and it's right there creating sweet noise when they touch eachother, dangling from her fingers.

"Churiyan .... " She whispers bitting down a smile. She loves glass bangles. Their colourfulness cheers her mood up and she'd always go with her Nani a night prior eid to select the most flamboyant pair of them from a bazar (market).

"This -— " She gestures to the gifts scattered around them, " —-- all of this and you, means alot to me." She sighs giving him a wet smile and he smoothes his thumb against her cheek like she's the most fragile thing to exist.

He watches her in a tad confusion when she stands up with a giggly squeal putting everything away and comes back with a tube of henna in her hand.

"It's chand raat t'night 'cos tommorrow is eid -- usually I spend it with Sarah and we apply henna to eachother, we're horrible at it honestly but now she isn't here 'm gonna bite yours ears —-" He cuts her off. Ushering her to sit back on her spot. He couldn't be more glad to spend all of his time with her whether it's just watching her make designs on her hand with henna.

"Your cha's waftin'." He shakes his head bringing it to her lips, "It's hot." She tells him drawing a circle on her palm and filling it with beautiful darkness of henna.

"Okie then ... " He blows at the hot beverage to cool it down and again brings it to her lips, "Now." He croons softly to her. She holds his wrist taking a sip from it -- he tucks the strand of her hair back and she smiles up at him making him chuckle when she takes a huge sigh as if her soul just woke up.

"What do we d'tommorrow?" He asks. Knowing most of the time they went to Zayn's house on Eids his mother used to fill the whole table with delicious dishes and the whole day was spent having fun.

"We do nothing but have loads of nice time -- I already made a dessert 'cos I know I'll be too lazy in the mornin', and invited your friends if that's okay?" She glances up at him done with her left palm.

"Perfect then," He nods, "D'ya need help with the other one?" He asks grabbing her right hand and the tube of henna from her.

"Yes, please." She shows him her hand covered with with henna and since it's wet she could do one thing wait or let him do it. The second options sounds more good.

"Not on me if it gets messed up." He warns her nonchalantly following the same pattern of her left hand. Stealing glances of her attractive face every now and then, dotting her moles with his intense gaze, he just thinks her brown eyes look more intricate – it's specks as if the forests soil on the first rains when they dilate with her racing heartbeat.

They're like an open book to him and at the same time mysteriously dark that he feels like burning a match to melt in them.

"You did it way better than me," She snorts examining it closely and turns the other way round to lay down on the carpeted floor and rest her head in his lap. He wipes his own hands watching the dark henna leaving a swipe of color on his fingertips.

He pets her hair, dimples milking into his cheeks when she raises her both hands infront of him -- blocking the moonlight that's falling on her, "When I was small I always used to end up getting it on my face and lemme tell ya. Having a yellow blotch isn't even a tiny bit fascinating on the only day you could dress up fancy."

His chest rumbles with giggles and he brings her hands closer to her lips blowing raspberries at them to get them dry early.

Comfortable silence envelopes them in to the point where they could hear crickets singing outside and moonlight sparkling on their skin —- she breaks it cuddling up into his chest.

"I really appreciate this, Harry." Her voice hushed whisper and her cherry stained lips couldn't resist but to patch kisses where his heart lays and she could sense it kicking a pace, "The fact that you did so much just for me -- is beyond my thought. I really feel like home." He let her speak. Squeezing her shoulders to convey the fierceness of his emotions he holds for her. His silken lips pressed to her temple and his eyelids flutters with each spurt of breath she inhales.

"I'll keep making you feel like home, till the day you'll allow me." Today. He for actually felt that his home was never a building or the luxurious furniture adorned inside it, but her. It's always gonna be her.

Because the moment he gets lost in those eyes all he come across is their shared laughter, their moments spent on this balcony right outside sipping onto their chas and watching the city wake up infront of their eyes, going to places he has never been to before, doing things he never thought he'd do in hundered years —- he isn't a big fan of spices but he still pretends like a big boi infront of her while eating pani puri she's oh so obsessed with.

The times she was never embarrassed to introduce him to her community or her friends, and getting soaked into rains even though they could've just used his car, having days planned to make him try new desi dishes, going to buy candles of many scent and shapes with him but then never feeling like leaving the store until he warns her that he'll throw her on his shoulder infront of everyone.

Going to Turkish markets together. He's a bread lover and so all this time he doesn't feel like leaving the shops filled with different kiln and tandoori breads. Eating Simit and drinking black tea in the amardu cups sitting outside the cafe –- he likes it with cheese while she might sound bland she just likes a bit of butter.

Them deciding for hours and hours which Persian rug to buy -- but never buying it apologising to the shop keeper.

Giving eachother head massages from the organic rosemary Morrocon oil that one of her friend gifted her, (Y/N) thinks she's one hell of a masseuse but Harry thinks otherwise —- though he would never ever break her heart so it's better keeping it a secret.

His nose creates a purring sound while he sleeps leaning against the wall, he doesn't even remember when he fell into the deep slumber with his large hand still wrapped around her wrist in a protective manner to keep her from moving.

It's cute.

Though when she stirs to regain consciousness with the birds chirping outside she feels remorseful finding him sleeping in such an uncomfy position just because of her and he wakes up with a loud wheeze —- blinking rapidly to see what just happened only to visibly relax back when she shushes him gently.

"Baby .... shit." He grogs out, knuckling at his eyes pointing at her jaw which's covered into a orangish streak, "Don't tell me." She groans bumping her head against his bicep.

A moment later they burst into fits of hoarse giggles and chuckles. She'd try to suck in air to not to snort and would do it nonetheless driving them more into belly aching laughter.

"Eid Mubarak, I guess?" He cackles loudly. Dimple coveting in to his velvet of skin. Rubs the tip of his nose against her's affectionately and swoons her in his arms to hug her warmly.

"Now -— go 'n dress up, c'mon." He cups the nape of her neck playing with the baby hair there and she whines smushing her face against his chest, "No. Lemme sleep some more."

"Heyyy none of that, c'mon sleepy girl you'll regret it later." He boops her nose smiling down at her fondly and she grumbles mumbling something in between you're so annoying or you're being so much like my mum.

He waits for her laying on the sofa with his arms folded and eyes closed. Prolly took a mini version of nap only to perk his head up grabbing the back of sofa when she returns with wet hair, soft clean face and lips tinted cherry wearing the dress and bangles he bought for her.

An enchantress from head to toe, he wouldn't even complain if she bewitches him.

He needs someone to pinch his bum because he thinks his eyelids might have struck. He takes a dramatic breather mischievously, pupils dilated cutesly and heart shaped lips parted with the sweet loving words in praise of her beauty burning at the tip of his tongue.

His fawning gives her butterflies. Expanding her chest with warmth and she does a three-sixty when he spindles his nimble in the air demanding her to show herself from every angle.

Her head falls back. An echo of happy giggles resonating in the room when he smacks his hand against his chest and flops into heaps of sofa cushions.

"You're fuckin' beautiful, a total knockout." He walks towards her with his hands spread open and takes her's to kiss the inside of her palms, "So are you." Her voice small with shyness. He sits on her on sofa and stays beside her with his chin perched upon his knuckles staring at her like she hung the moon -- as if she's a prayer come true.

"Did you get me ready to d'nothing?" She turns towards him. The curled up fringes kissing the apples of her cheeks same as his fingertips are dying to do so.

"I might sound selfish but it was a trap to get you ready early so I could admire you till everyone squeeze between us ... " He smirks and she huffs sinking deeper into the sofa throwing her limbs in air and his breath hitches when her bangles clanks together producing a beautiful noise.

"Harry!!" She whines.

"Okie, time to fill some grumpy kitten's tummy." He announces standing up to head to kitchen and she shakes her head with a silly smile trailing behind him.

All she knows is that. This Eid she'll have the best time of her life, as she could already feel his energy and love radiating in every corner of her home.

.

@harryforvogue idk why but everytime I'd sit to write this blurb you'd pop in my mind, hope so you're not hiccuping wildly.

[bakugou-jpg]

Stay, please || K. Takami /Hawks

A/N: This was requested by an anon, for Hawks angst to fluff. I’m not entirely sure if this ks what you wanted but i hope you like it anyway!

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warning: BNHA MANGA SPOILERS, angst.

Words: 7789 words

_____________________________________

The job of a pro hero, was something that came with a lot of responsibility. As a pro hero, you had the responsibility of someone else's life in your hands . The responsibility to keep them safe. It was a never ending battle between bad and good with when one villain had finally been defeated and captured a new one was lurking in the corners of the streets.

The training young teens who just decided what to with their lives, which was wanting to make the world a better place and saving people by becoming a hero, was rather cruel in some cases. There was no denying in the fact that learning is best done by practice, but putting 16 year olds into battles between adults they shouldn't have to fight could be..considered inhuman in some cases.

Especially when the 'teen' is a 6 year old boy who had no choice but to give his life to the country to be used as a tool to solve the life long battle between good and evil. He was seen as a 'secret weapon'. One that would make the world a better place. A future set out for him in every possible detail until his very retirement.

It was tiring, so very tiring. A constant cycle of waking up, going to work, overworking, getting home, go to bed. Barely any time for free time. The lack of it made him feel like he was stuck in a simulation, a system that he couldn't run away from.

He felt like he was being suffocated, a tight rope wrapped around his throat with the people he worked for his entire life at the end of it only pulling it tighter and tighter putting more and more responsibility on his shoulders. He was gonna collapse, his vision growing hazy and his knees trembling close to giving up.

"Keigo.."

The rope around his neck loosened. Hawks was so focused on walking forward towards the pointless direction he was forced to walk towards that.. he hadn't noticed when a soft pair of hands had started fumbling with the rough material. He hadn't noticed when breathing got easier again and he certainly didn't notice when his legs dragged him somewhere else.

Falling in love with you was the easiest thing he had ever done. The moment his eyes met yours he was absolutely swooned by the way they held such a calming warmth in them that he felt his wings puff up. You were incredibly beautiful to him and the red tips of his ears certainly didn't go unnoticed for he felt a cold feeling wash over him when the number one hero sent a glare at him reminding him he was on patrol.

He felt himself so drawn to your presence, always finding ways to sneakily run into you or find a reason to talk to you.

When the cold months creeped around the corner, meaning the sun set earlier in the evening, he did not hesitate for a second to insist he'd bring you home safely. He wouldn't hesitate to playfully tease you about the tiniest things, loving the either flustered or giggling reaction coming from you.

"Hawks..?"

His eyes were glued to the screen of his computer, scanning over all the tiny words that for some reason didn't seem to get through his skull no matter what he did.

He felt like his eyelids were being pulled down by tiny fairies who were trying to lul him into a deep sleep so they'd be able to kill him in his sleep or kidnap him afterwards..atleast, that's the story his grandmother had told him when she was still around when he was younger.

God, how long that had been and how fuzzy the memories were of her. Hawks never saw her often, for the relationship with her and his dad was horrible, but when he did he'd feel nothing but a warm fuzzy feeling he hadn't felt in years. A comfortable feeling he wanted to bask in forever with no worry in the world.

He tore his eyes away from the screen, immediately settling on your form after you had entered his office.

The crimson wings fluffed up just slightly upon seeing the sight of you, a reaction Hawks had no control over. Slowly, he spread them and even in the dim light of his laptop screen you could still clearly see the beautiful red colour they held. Every little detail of each feather, how they slightly shook when he stretched his entire body before folding back into their previous position behind his back.

"Ah, it seems i have died huh? Knew all this paperwork was gonna make my brain melt one day..Though, i thought angels had like eight arms were shaped like a pyramid and had like fifty eyes in total."

A playful smirk danced around his features, but it wasn't hard to take notice of the tiredness his eyes held. How to bags under his eyes would get darker by the day and how his voice sounded heavy laced with drowsiness.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't help but snort at his words. Your eyes were still glued onto his wings, mesmerized by the way they looked and never failing to impress you.

"What are you doing here so late, dove? Thought your shift ended two hours ago, did you miss me that much?"

Hawks noticed how your eyebrows scrunched together this time there was no little smile or snort at his comment. Did he cross a line he shouldn't of have crossed? No, you didn't seem mad..you looked worried.

Placing one foot in front of the other hesitantly, you made your way towards Hawks desk eyes scanning over all the littered papers and the opened document on his laptop.

"Could ask you the same question, Mr.hero..I had forgotten my keys so was unable to enter my house. Thought your shift ended three hours ago?"

The tone in your voice was more stern this time and the hero didn't miss the somewhat motherly undertones to it. Even the way the way your hand found its way into his hair, plucking something out of it but even the slightest touch made him coo softly.

Quickly snapping out of his smitten state, Hawks quickly recollected himself and grinned. No matter how hard he tried, he still looked burned out and absolutely exhausted. The small pile of energy drinks in his trash can and the empty coffee cup on his desk only making it more obvious. "Thought it would be fun to just sit here and stare at some words on a screen with no yellow light"

A small moment of silence took over the room. An awkward one at that..had he made an uncomfortable comment once again?

It was hard to let his eyes settle to the dark after having had them glued onto the screen for so many hours. He could very easily make out your silhouette and where your eyes were, but it was a little hard pinpointing the details in your face.

Being so focused on taking in your facial features, he hadn't noticed how your hand had slowly creeped up on him to settle onto his wings. Nobody ever really touched his wings, well technically they did of course just..not like this. Not with such tenderness while running their nails over his skin, like getting your hair played with but so different.

It was hard to keep his composure like that and the very moment your fingers moved he let out a shaky sigh, eyes rolling to the back of his head and his body relaxing under your touch.

"You're so tense, should take better care of yourself Mr.hero.." You whispered, hands trailing from the base of his wings up his shoulders before settling onto his neck and giving it a small squeeze.

Hawks face felt warm. He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you did to him or if this was you trying to tease him in any way. It felt nice, so very nice. To be touched like this, with such gentle movements. He wanted to bask into it forever, for him the only one you'd touch like that and talk to.

Leaning his head back, Hawks peered up into your eyes while resting his head against your stomach. Your hands were now attached to his ears, tracing his ear-shells with your fingers.

"Please.." He whispered so very softly, his voice so desperate.

"Hm?"

"..stay"

Eyes widening slightly, the fingers once wrapped around his head slipped away.

Hawks was a very open book, it had been something you noticed right away when you first met him. He wasn't afraid to show his feelings about something or to state his opinion on certain things. His emotions always very clearly present on his face.

Yet, the emotion he currently expressed was hard to place. You weren't sure if it was fear, sadness or desperation. Maybe a mix of all of them but none of them really was the hawks you used to see on a daily basis. Were his emotions getting the best of him at the late hours of the night?

His rather cold hands took ahold of your own the chill spread out through the rest of your body something which made you shiver slightly.

"God Hawks, you certainly are sappy huh?"

A small grin tugged at the edges of his lips, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. His eyes followed your form as you sat down on his desk, eyes piercing into your own.

"Got me there, dove..Only for you though, baby bird."

With a small smack to the head, his chest felt much lighter when you started reading through the papers scattered around his desk, a pen in your mouth while writing down things here and there. How you'd rest your legs on the arm of his chair telling him to finish his part so the both of you could go home.

That was the first time Hawks started thinking about a future other than what had been set in stone for him ever since he was a kid. What is a selfish thing to do..? To think about a future that only he provided off in the end and hopefully you too, of course? I..think everyone's allowed to be a little selfish sometimes. That longing for something so precious and wonderful is something everyone deserves to have.

To be selfish and keep you to himself, to hold you in the late hours of the night and to be able to feel your skin against his own.

With his wing wrapped around your body, you walked underneath the dimly lit streets.Every time either of you laughed or talked, a small cloud would leave your mouth and disappear into the cold november air.

It was only such a small memory compared to the ones the two of you had made throughout the friendship you had, one that eventually blossomed into something more. Though, to Hawks it was the night he came to the realization that for the first time in his life he felt like..there was a destination, a goal, to where he was walking to.

Loving you was the easiest thing Hawks could ever do. It was like breathing unconsciously, blinking his eyes and how his heart pumped blood through his body. Something so natural and right, something he needed so desperately.

It was funny how he had gone 21 years through out his life without you but now that he had you for barely 2 years for himself, he felt like he couldn't go without you being there for him and having you by his side. He was addicted to your presence, you were like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

You had showed him that the little things mattered, that it was okay to make mistakes and that it was so easy to love something more than yourself.

Coming home, exhausted and beaten up, to be engulfed in the warmest pair of arms instead of his empty bed was the thing he'd look forward to every day. To be peppered in soft kisses and have fingers go through his hair welcoming him home being told that he had been missed. It was a thing that got him through the day, knowing there was someone out there waiting for him.

Although he felt like it, Hawks...would never truly be free.

Even though. You had loosened every rope tied around his body, took his hand and guided him elsewhere, he would always be reminded that those ropes were still there. No matter what, he was still doomed to serve the people he had given almost his whole entire life to.

At times it was a little hard, having to stay away from what he considered home for a couple of days sometimes even weeks, but the two of you managed. The media barely had any information about his personal life. Both the agency and he himself kept it hidden deeply underneath a pile of dirt a ton of feet under the ground.

They knew about your existence, sure, but you were known as one of Endeavour's right hands. The one who followed him around like a puppy everywhere he went, taking care of most of the media problems for him and the one he went to for advice regarding his hero work.

Deep inside, Hawks knew that he wasn't worthy of all this. That he wasn't made to live a life like he was currently living, but he always pushed away those thoughts. Negativity wasn't gonna get him anywhere, it would affect both him and you.

"We need you to play infiltrate the league of villains as a spy. Make them believe you're on their side, gain their trust and leak some unimportant facts we give you here and there. Mr. Takami we need you to do whatever it takes."

League of villains, spy, whatever it takes..?

His whole head was buzzing the entire time during the meeting, where they told him all the important details and went through all of the steps he'd have to take.

Hawks had seen what the league was capable of, hell, the whole entirety of Japan had seen so. Individually he could take most of them on, probably. He'd have to watch out for the one that went by the name of 'Dabi', his feathers didn't exactly mix well with fire. Shigaraki was also sketchy, but aside from that he had received the news that the league seemed to be plotting something.

Not the craziest thing, since they had been quite off the radar for a few months now. And especially with those creatures they called nomus nobody was sure what would happen.

Going home that day felt wrong. Knowing what was to come, a bitter feeling creeping into his mouth while his feet felt like cement blocks heavier with every step he took closer to the door.

"Keigo, welcome home!"

The moment your face appeared from around the corner his heart only felt heavier. The fact you were so very unaware of what was about to happen and did your usual routine of wrapping your arms around him, gently taking off his vizors and headphones before cupping his face and pressing a kiss to his lips.

He couldn't do it

"Tough day at work? You look like you went 3 days without sleep Kei..and for someone who kept me up with his snoring last night that sure is quite something."

Your comment usually would've made him snicker or atleast just crack a grin. You were always able to make him feel be better and make him laugh on his worst days. Always knowing what to say and do, knowing him like the back of your hand.

He felt so numb. All his emotions were flat, he had to do this. He had to, he'd do anything to keep you safe and if that meant letting you go... then so be it.

"(Y/n), we need to talk."

His hands wrapped around your shoulders and softly pushed you off of him before reaching out to your own, giving them a soft squeeze with his thumb drawing a circle over your ring finger.

Hawks always knew he was gonna wrap the prettiest and biggest ring around there. He didn't care if you didn't want something to extravagant or so flashy and scold him for spending so much money. It ate at him that he was able to show you off but he would, he'd let everyone know you were his and he was yours. Didn't care what the agency or your boss thought. Didn't care about the media. None of that, just you. You and him.

He promised himself he'd always keep you safe, no matter what happened your safety came first. He'd do anything and, if that meant letting you go, then..so be it

"I'm sorry, but i don't love you anymore. Its not fair to you if i keep hiding this from you. I think we should end this."

He wanted to grow old with you. So badly. To spend his last moments in your arms and to adopt a dog with you- Hell even, maybe if god would've let him, have actual kids with you.

Seeing you laugh it off at first made his heart crumble. Especially the moment he saw your face slowly change when you started realizing that it wasn't a joke. How your eyes twisted from pure joy, to confusion, to a mix from both confusion and sorrow. A glassy layer of tears welling up in your eyes, head shaking no and your hands letting go of his.

"W-what? What do you mean- I-i don't understand."

Your voice was breaking, like a thin layer of ice on top of a lake in winter. Ice so incredibly thin that it wasn't able to hold the weight of a little robin hopping around on it.

He wanted to pull you into his arms, hush you while whispering comforting words into your ear. Telling you that he didn't mean it, that he loved you more than anything else in this world. But he couldn't. You had to be safe, you'd be in great danger if he continued the relationship you two shared.

"Since when?" You asked softly, eyes fixated onto his chest. You were unable to look him in the eye, unable to show him how you were slowly falling apart. In all honesty, you didn't want him to answer. You didn't want to know when he stopped loving you, for it had only been half a day when he told you he loved you, held you in his arms and kissed your forehead oh so lovingly before leaving for work.

Hawks scrunched his eyebrows together, eyes never leaving your trembling form. "I..I think it was around last month i started having my dou-"

"Last month, Keigo? You wanna fucking tell me that all those night i spend in your arms, that when i brought you to my fucking parents for dinner and when you told me you loved me, all meant nothing to you?!"

There it was. The little robin landing on top of the surface, creating a hole in its path before taking off leaving the ice broken into pieces. The tears flowed freely from your eyes, sleeves desperately trying to wipe them away but failing to do so.

"What did i do wrong? I don't understand..I-is there someone else..?"

"What- No! Never, i could never..i-"

Hawks gritted his teeth and had to dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket or else he would slip and reach out for you. It took ever cell in his body not to wrap you up in his arms and apologize and pepper your face with kisses.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n). I'll go pack my bags."

Trying to move past you only to be pushed back, hands gripping at the sleeves of his jacket and teary eyes piercings through his own. "Kei, what's going on?"

Your voice was so soft, so comforting. It felt so normal to lean into your touch, to close his eyes when you cupped his cheeks and feel just the slightest bit at ease.

The hero could feel a lump of his own form in his throat, one he desperately tried to swallow, and started biting down on his bottom lip. "I-i..I'm so sorry baby bird i-i..i can't tell you." He whispered, barely hearable due to the lump blocking the air in his throat.

The arms wrapping around your trembling form, the hand on the back of your head, the voice softly shushing you and the warm lips pressing a soft lingering kiss to your forehead all made it feel like time stopped. Nor did those things prove that he had fallen out of love, to be exact it only proved how much he adored you.

You didn't notice when he walked past you, into the bedroom. Or when he packed a suitcase and all his stuff, feathers flying through the house here and there to collect some of his stuff.

It was only when he stood next to you again, his warm golden eyes filled with sorrow, that you snapped back to your thoughts.

"I'm sorry, dove."

Leaning down, Hawks pressed his very last kiss onto the corner of your mouth. One that lingered just a little longer than the others, one that held just a little bit more emotion. The one that was going to haunt him forever.

With the front door opening, Hawks took one last look at you. A small smile tugged at the edges of his lips and you could clearly see the tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Eyes full of both love and sorrow, eyes that you had grown to adore more than anything else in the world for the very last time connected with your own.

"Thank you for everything, (Y/n)."

And with that, the door closed.

There were a few seconds of ear deafening silence before Hawks flinched upon hearing the heart breaking sobs coming from the inside of the apartment. Your whole world was wrecked within not even 15 minutes and the worst part of it all is that you didn't understand why.

Spreading his wings out,  Hawks took one last look back at the apartment. At the place he once considered home. One where he had made his most cherished memories at and a place he had considered his safe place for oh so long.

It didn't matter anymore, what he did was to keep you safe. Something he had sworn to do the moment he first laid his eyes on you, a promise he was going to keep for as long as he lived.

In this case it had meant cutting all ties he had with you, to make you seem like a stranger to both himself and the people he worked with. The thought of you getting hurt by the league just for being involved with him, something that made you the perfect blackmail material, was a thought that haunted him. It was for your safety..

Now that he lost you, Hawks had nothing to lose. Not a home, not a future or..someone he loved. He was back to the very start, rope tied around his throat pulling him forward with no clear destination. Everything was numb. His mind, his body, everything.

A hero who had nothing left to lose was a hero who didn't care if he lived or died. Someone who didn't care for a pathetic title or name, it didn't matter.

With the moon peaking through the cloudy sky, light cascading down the hero's crimson feathers. With a few of his feathers supporting the sports bag, the hero took off leaving behind everything he once had.

There was nobody there to spot him, to freak out over seeing the number 2 hero flying over their heads or take pictures of him. Nighttime was the most peaceful time of the day to fly around for there were no worries just him soaring through the sky.

Hawks had no place to go in all honesty he hadn't thought this plan through entirely. He wasn't even sure if what he did was the best decision to make..maybe there was-..No. This was no time to have second thoughts on it, the damage had already been done.

With wings wrapping around his body, the hero dipped down towards the ground. The feeling of falling was always somewhat comforting. How gravity would pull him down, eyes closed for just a mere moment, while basking in the weightless feeling right before spreading his wings and gently landing on the ground, boots hitting the concrete.

"Took you long enough Mr. hero"

A tall dark figure emerged from within the shadows of the alleyway. There was no denying in the fact that the moment the hero caught sight of them, a chill creeped up his spine.

"Ah, give me a break had some trouble on the way here.." Hawks said with a grin, waving it off. A big sigh left his nose and he cracked his fingers.

"Well then, let's get to business, ha?..."

Hawks eyes narrowed the moment the man standing in front of him stepped into the light. Up close, the scars that littered his body looked even more disgusting. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about how he had gotten them.

"..dabi"

This job had to be the most complicated one Hawks had done before. He was a good liar, that certainly hadn't been the problem, but it was the fact he had to gain the league's trust. To convince them he was truly on their side, after all he was the #2 hero of Japan.

Dabi was, supposedly, the messenger and judge. He informed Hawks of all the things Shigaraki told him and demanded Hawks to do to prove himself. At the same time he'd judge Hawks, to see if he really was serious about all this and not a traitor.

The hero was walking on thin ice with every teeny tiny slip up that he could make resulting in the mission taking the worst possible turn. He had to be incredibly careful with what he said and did, continuously being watched by one particular villain that couldn't help but suspect him even after Shigaraki had given him an Ok.

Hawks was a good person that was too unfortunate to be forced into the situations he was put into. He was too unfortunate for getting attached to one of the villains, realizing that maybe after all some of them weren't that bad. Too unfortunate to have the years of training and manipulation take over his senses when he started to panic.

Hawks was a good person. He didn't mean to kill him. He never wanted to kill a somewhat good person.

He didn't mean to kill twice.

His mind was screaming. He had to keep his cool, had to keep himself together because he didn't have time to think for Dabi was already right on his ass with an intend to end his miserable ass.

Hawks hadn't thought about dying before. Well.. not like this. These last couple of weeks he thought he wouldn't care if he were to die. Its not like it really mattered anymore, after all there was nothing left for him. He was alone, back to living as a living puppet working for a corrupt hero agency.

It didn't matter anymore. None of it did.

He regretted leaving you behind that night. He should've turned around when he heard u cry, should've went back inside to cradle you in his arms. He wanted you back so badly. He didn't care if it was selfish, he wanted to leave everything behind and grow old with you, to hold you in his arms one last time.

Oh how he'd do anything to be able to touch you one last time..to apologize and tell you he loved you.

His wings were gone. The wings he knew you always admired from afar and run your fingers through, ripped out of his body leaving nothing but broken bloody bones sticking out of his back. He'd never be able to fly again, never be able to feel the freedom of being in the sky.

A boot was crushing his neck slowly making him suffocate, the villain looking down on him with an almost psychopathic smile on his way.

"Haha! Poor little Keigo Takami, seems like you've wasted your pathetic little life ,huh? And that calls himself the #2 hero?! Would've expected better from the hero association!"

Hawks felt numb. Without his wings he wasn't even worthy for the hero association, he'd be nothing. All of the sacrifices he made, all if the training didn't matter anymore. He was nothing.

As his sight got fuzzy, Hawks felt himself growing tired. Eyelids growing heavy, breathing slow and his whole entire body was exhausted. Something in him was screaming at him to stay awake but he pushed it away, simply too tired to care for it.

As he started giving in to the slumber, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the image of you. From the day when he first met you to when the two if you worked together that one night. The day when he first fell your lips on his own and held you in his arms. He never particularly liked his name nor did he hate it, but whenever you called out for him it sounded like a sweet melody he couldn't get enough of.

"Keigo, you should rest"

...maybe he should.

Right before falling unconscious he could feel a faint force ramming into him but it didn't matter anymore, none of it did.

Finally..he could rest

..

Hospitals always had the most unpleasant smells. It was the mixture of chemicals and people who had been in bed all day that now smelled like sweat. Of course there was also the uncomfortable atmosphere. Most people were there to get tested for something or because they were sick. How such a thing would end were, in some cases, very unclear. Even the interior of hospitals were unsettling, bright white walls that blinded you whenever someone woke up from surgery and the rest of the cold colors they used for the furniture weren't exactly pleasing to the eye either.

He wasn't sure what happened, how he got there and how the battle ended. But when he opened his eyes, Hawks found himself laying on his side. It was very clear from the moment be got used to the darkness around him and the fact his whole body was aching with bandages wrapped all around him that he was in a hospital bed, his eyes following the IV tube to the bag hanging from the stand.

It didn't take a detective for him to notice that his wings were gone, completely. He wasn't sure if there was maybe some sort of bone structure left behind but the chances were incredibly small. It was weird, suddenly missing a big part of his body that he carried with him for 23 years. Like it had never been there.

It was nighttime and the curtains were still open. Perhaps the nurse had forgotten to close them. Its not something that he minded, after all he found comfort in being able to look outside at the very empty parking lot and street. There wasn't a soul out there and judging by how high the moon stood in the sky it was very late at night maybe around 3-4 am.

While pushing himself up to sit, Hawks was met by a horrible throbbing feeling on the inside of his skull. "Ahh, fuck" He hissed while taking his head in his hands, applying a bit of pressure to try and lessen the pain somehow.

His throat was dry, was there a sink? Lifting his head up, the hero took a quick look around the room his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. In all honesty it felt like a weird fever dream, waking up at night in a hospital that now felt very isolated and somewhat peaceful.

Perhaps he really was dead and this was a test god was putting him under to prove himself. Or he was just stuck alone in this world being forced to live forever as a clipped bird. The after life.

His breath was stuck in his throat, golden brown eyes widening. If he really was dead, he'd currently be in heaven, for there was no other way that the person currently sitting on the chair next to him with their head leaning on the bed as they clung onto the side of the pillow he was laying on was something other than an angel.

No, Hawks didn't believe in heaven or hell and he most definitely was aware of the fact he wasn't dead because the throbbing pain in his back and in his head could not of have been something a dead person should be able to experience.

"(Y/n)..?"

You stirred in your sleep, just slightly. Eyebrows scrunched together lightly as you buried your head into the mattress of the bed, hand gripping the pillow you were clinging onto a little harder. Lips puckered like a fish, light eye bags underneath your eyes and smudged mascara around your eyes. You looked exhausted and Hawks couldn't get enough of the sight before him.

Had you been here the whole time? Judging by all the get well soon cards pricked onto the whiteboard on the wall it had atleast been a good few days. There was a fresh bouquet of red and yellow flowers on the table near the window, a pretty big one at that.

Only then did he notice the crumbled up card laying on top of all the trash in the trash can. He couldn't exactly make out what was inside of the card, but he could very clearly see the logo stamp on top of it which belonged to the hero association he worked for. He immediately smiled at the most possible scenario being that you had seen it and gotten mad at them. After all, you never backed down with expressing your pent up feelings about the people he worked for when you two talked about it.

His mind slowly wandered back to your last encounter with each other, face immediately falling when he heard your cries echo in his head right before he took off that night. Hawks treated you horribly and yet here you were, clinging onto the pillow he once laid on. Maybe you only came so you could yell at him for hurting you, for laughing at him for being pathetic and having lost everything he had.

But you were here. Beside him. He didn't know what god thought he deserved a second chance in life and especially what god allowed him to see you again but god was he thankful.

Slowly laying down back on the bed, wincing slightly when he back made contact with the mattress, Hawks turned on his side so he was facing you. To him, you were the most breathtaking person that walked this earth. From the tip of your nose, to the cheeks he loved to squeeze so much to your parted soft lips.

He loved having you on top of him on the couch, your face squished into his chest as you dozed off into sleep. A moment where he'd turn off the tv and admire you, hand gently massaging your head and a thumb very softly tracing over the details of your face.

His fingers reached out for your face, golden eyes softening when your nose scrunched up a little the moment his thumb traced over it. He really must of have been a saint in his previous life for him to be so lucky to have met you, to have been allowed to love and be loved by you.

You looked so breathtaking like this, so peacful and content as if you hadn't spent days sitting on the same chair ignoring the nurses telling you to go away while worrying your head off. At one point you even pulled out your license, showing you worked for Endeavour and said you had to keep a close call on Hawks to make sure he wouldn't fall 'victim' to another attack.

Hawks shuffled his body a little closer to your head, breath fanning over your face with your face cradled by his hands. Taking one more close look at your face, the man smiled softly before he closed his eyes and leaned in. Lips softly pressed against your forehead, ones that stayed there for a few seconds before he backed up again.

"I'm so sorry, baby bird.."

It was a mere whisper, only loud enough for the both of you to hear. He wasn't even sure if there was someone else in the room, but he couldn't care less. There was a small lump im his throat, one he tried very desperately to swallow but to no success.

It was the moment that your eyes slowly opened, hands reaching out to rub the sleepiness out of them before widening when yours met a pair of golden ones that it disappeared. When your bottom lip trembled and your eyes watered, hand moving to cover your mouth as the tears started falling from your eyes.

Hawks smiled and lifted his hand, just slightly for his arm still hurted. He could absolutely miserable but he wasn't even aware of that. Of how bloodshot his eyes were or how half of his face was wrapped in bandages. Or how the bandages om his back had light crimson stains on them from his wounds still bleeding here and there. It was a horrifying way of seeing the one you cared about.

"Hey.."

Even his voice sounded like utter shit. As if the man had been a chainsmoker for the last 30 years.

"K-keigo.."

You didn't care if it hurt him, the damage wouldn't be that bad anyway. The moment you heard what had happened your heart stopped. The last month felt like your world collapsed. The home you shared was quiet and the bed you shared was empty and cold. Kicking your chair back you lunged forward, arms wrapping around his fragile body very careful not to touch the wounds on his back.

"Y-you..fucking a-asshole.."

Hearing things from him from Endeavour was extremely painful but what was more painful was, after he had already been hospitalized, hearing what he had hidden from you and why. The fact he didn't bother to tell you, way too caught up with the thought of you getting hurt.

"..are you stupid? We're a team aren't we!?For fucksake i work for Endeavour, Keigo i can protect myself. L-leaving me like that.. Y-you selfish bastard!"

Hawks groaned slightly at the way you were currently squeezing his body. He didn't hesitate for a second before be wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose into the crook of your neck. He didn't think he'd ever be able to hold you again, to be able to feel you like this and have you so close.

Even though you smelled like hospital and sleep, Hawks could easily pick out the smell of your perfume out of it. It was faint, incredibly faint, but he missed it so much.

He could feel your hot tears falling onto his shoulder and how your teeth chattered, it made his heart ache. All he could do was wrap your legs around his waist while pulling you even closer. He needed to feel you, to feel your arms around him.

"I'm sorry, dove..I'm so sorry for hurting you." He whispered, hands bawling your shirt into a fist. It felt so good to feel your hand going through his hair while your other arm rubbed his upper back, still careful not to touch the wounds on his back.

You wanted to be mad at him, you really did. For the fact be broke your heart and left you crying, for leaving without saying why, underestimating you, fighting in a war without saying a word and getting hurt like this only to leave you worrying for several days by his side day and night.

But you couldn't be mad at him. I mean, you were, but being in his arms like this was something you had been craving for weeks. To feel his warmth envelop you the moment his arms snaked around your waist and to feel him kissing you shoulder several times before nuzzling his face into it.

Furiously wiping your tears from your eyes, sniffling and letting out choked sob. "Don't you ever leave me like that again, i swear i'll-"

"Could never leave you, you're stuck with me now.." Hawks with a smile, slowly backing up from the hug to take a good look at your face. The moment he saw your teary eyes his gaze softened before he brought his hand to your face to wipe them off your cheeks. "..stuck with me for the rest of your life. After all i'm gonna need someone who's gonna take care of me."

The exaggerated sigh leaving his mouth together with the roll of his eyes made you chuckle. He always found ways to joke around and cheer you up but he still knew the right things to say and do to calm you down. "Shut up you birdbrain, god you're the absolute worst." You said with a laugh while his thumb continuing to wipe the tear, and some remains of mascara, underneath your eyes away.

With his hands cupping your cheeks Hawks couldn't help put press his forehead against your own before closing his eyes.

You were there. With him. There was no more hero association that would make his head explode, no more worries or things he had to do. Just you and him. Maybe, just maybe, Hawks would allow himself to be selfish. Selfish enough so he could work on a future where only you and him provided off, to be able to call himself your husband and to grow old with you. To stay by your side the rest of your life no matter what. Everything he ever wanted lied in that future.

"I love you.."

It didn't matter anymore. The ropes were gone and he didn't care what lied ahead because he was holding onto your hand as you guided him. This time he didn't care where he ended up, as long as he had the hand he was holding onto in his he'd be fine. Perfectly fine.

As a hand tangled into his hair, Hawks didn't hesitate a second before he connected his lips with yours. Never before had he needed it so bad, to feel your lips against his own and had he missed it so much. His hands moved to settle on your waist and neck, immediately deepening the kiss and sighing in content when your arms wrapped around his neck.

All those sleepless nights, those moments of doubt and when he couldn't help but think about his regrets moments before he collapsed..To have you here in his arms was the only thing he wanted.

As the two of you parted ways, Hawks was quick to peck your lips as a quick cherry on top. The kiss lingered for quite a moment and the both of you were catching your breath.

"I should probably go get the nurse.." You said under your breath still a little caught off guard by the previous event and what had happened in the last ten minutes. Your eyes were still wet and your nose still runny, but the way your cheeks had heated up made up for it in some type of way.

Pushing yourself off of Hawks to fetch someone who was doing the night shift, you were very quick to be stopped by a hand who clung onto your own. When you looked back at the man, you were met by a pair of pleading golden eyes.

"Stay.."

Upon hearing his request your eyes widened for a moment.  It really was pretty late already, so bothering the nurses at this hour was not something you wished to do so especially since it wasn't exactly that important. After all, Hawks would be awake in the morning as well.

"..please"

He guided you onto the bed with him, hand still in your own, and shuffled backwards so that there was room for you next to him. Your body had given in, simply too tired to protest and with the way the mattress, blanket and arms looked so incredibly warm snd comfortable you really just wanted some sleep.

While being careful not to rip out any of the tubes attached to his body, you laid down next to him and immediately cuddled up against his chest. Face buried in his neck, arm immediately snaking around your waist to hold you closer and a soft pair of lips pressing against your forehead. It was like it had been weeks since you had a good night's sleep and didn't take long before sleep had won its battle against you sending you off to dreamland.

"Goodnight, dove.."

Hawks whispered while running his fingers through your hair, pushing it back so he could press another kiss to your forehead.

Even though Hawks had already been asleep several days, he was exhausted. It had been so long since he was able to sleep comfortably like this, his eyelids were screaming at him.

Hawks didn't know what the future was gonna hold for him. Whether he'd somehow be able to get his wings back or if he'd ever be able to work as a hero again. Everything was incredibly uncertain but right now, on this way too small for two people if not cuddled up hospital bed, everything felt like where it should be.

Just you and him. Nobody else or anything else getting in the way.

With a smile on his face Hawks closed his eyes and allowed himself to be taken over by sleep. Clipped bird or not, no matter what happened Hawks was gonna do anything in his might to keep you happy and that was a promise he was gonna hold onto for as long as he could.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXXVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Meet Mel’s little brother :)

Words: 5,235 

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Book Six

Listen to: ‘Thread’ -by Keane.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Leon Regulus Sultens-Black.

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS

[...]Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, re-instated member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. 

He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile the Boy Who Lived —

"There you are, Harry, I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," Hermione interrupted.

"Of course they would," Erick rolled his eyes, he was sitting on the floor between the two beds, his back against Hermione's bed. 

Now that all his Slytherin friends knew the truth, they had stopped talking to him, so Erick was now spending all his time with Mel.

"He's 'the Boy Who Lived' again now, though, isn't he? Not such a show-off maniac anymore, eh?" Ron grabbed a bunch of chocolate frogs from his bedside table and handed one to each. 

He leaned over and stretched out his hand to Erick, the older boy stared down at the chocolate and then up to him, Ron waved it impatiently in front of his face and Erick grabbed it quickly.

"Yes, they're very complimentary about you now, Harry," Hermione agreed. "'A lone voice of truth... perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story... forced to bear ridicule and slander...' Hmm... I notice they don't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering, though... 'You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to four, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter and Mel Dumbledore, page nine...' Well, it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry and Mel isn't exclusive, it's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago..."

"Daddy sold it to them," said Luna. "He got a very good price for it too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer and see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

"...That sounds lovely," Hermione said after a short silence.

"So anyway, what's going on in school?"

"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny. "He did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off —"

"Why?" 

"Oh, he just says it was a really good bit of magic."

"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George, they sent me all these, you know," Ron pointed at the bunch of Frogs. "Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?" 

 "I'll miss them..." Mel sighed.

"You can always buy a few of their products and set them around the school," Harry offered, "it'll feel as if they were still here."

She chuckled softly, around them the group shared confused and relieved glances. It wasn't exactly like before, but they could sense the friendly tones of their conversations, they had stopped fighting.

Although it didn't mean there wouldn't be fights later, they had pushed the conversation about their lifeline further into the future, right now they didn't have the energy to discuss life-changing matters.

"So has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, everything's settled right back down again," Neville nodded.

"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" asked Ron.

"Not at all! He's really, really miserable, actually..." Ginny lowered her voice. "He keeps saying Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts..."

"If any of you feel like pranking Filch next year, let me know so I can look the other way," Erick joked.

All of them turned to see Professor Umbridge on the bed opposite Ron and Hermione's. Dumbledore had rescued her from the centaurs, nobody knew how, and Umbridge was out of it, therefore unable to speak.

"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," Hermione explained. 

"Sulking, more like," said Ginny.

"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.

"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.

"No... no..." said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows, "no, I must have been dreaming..."

Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter.

"Serves her right," Mel scowled. "She caused a lot of suffering this year..."

She looked down at Harry's hand, and the boy moved it only to hold hers.

"Speaking of centaurs," Hermione spoke, causing Harry to retreat his hand abruptly, "who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?"

"He's got to, the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?" Harry shrugged.

"It looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach," said Ginny.

"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good. Mind you, the whole subjects useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better..."

"How can you say that?" Hermione frowned. "After we've just found out that there are real prophecies? It is a pity it broke..."

"Yeah, it is. Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it either, it was clever of you to break it, Mel. Though you really shouldn't have used your hand to do so..."

"I think it made you look really tough," Erick smiled.

Mel returned his gesture tensely, she wished she could feel as calm as the rest of her friends, she wanted to go back to normal but she couldn't ignore what was about to happen once the school year ended, now her home had as many ghosts as the castle.

"Hey, where are you going?" Ron asked in a hurt voice when Harry stood up to leave.

"Er — Hagrid's. You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you two are..." 

"Oh all right then," Ron grumbled. "Wish we could come..."

"Say hello to him for us!" said Hermione. "And ask him what's happening about... about his little friend!"

Erick occupied Harry's place, he nudged her arm. 

"You're going to let him go just like that?" 

Mel contemplated the door in silence. She was ready for Harry's grief this time, there would be moments when he would want to be left alone and she had no problem with it. She understood, there were moments in which she wanted to hide away forever and never wake up.

"He doesn't need me right now," The girl shrugged. "And before you give me a lecture, I don't mean it in a bad way. Whatever he's going through... I can't help him go through it faster. I can't even help myself..."

Mel looked out the window to avoid her friend's eyes.

"How about we go for a walk?" Erick suggested.

They stopped once they reached the courtyard. It was deserted, most of the students were out on the school grounds bathing in the sun. Mel sat on the edge of one of the archways while Erick remained standing, she could feel him staring, but she kept her eyes down.

"So you and Harry are okay now," He started, "no more fighting?"

"None at all," She sighed. "We have better things to do than to fight over our love life. Not that it matters, we've stopped liking each other that way."

"How come?"

"It just happened," She replied quietly.

Erick hummed, moving to sit next to her. 

"Maybe you're meant to be just friends. I mean, your relationship is already too complicated with the lifeline..."

Mel couldn't care less about what her relationship with Harry was destined to be. She didn't know what she wanted to do with the connection after hearing Harry's reasons to keep it.  All she could think of was her mother; she'd sacrificed so much to keep them safe, what Sirius had done to help them... She was running out of days to think of a proper way to apologize to her family. Dumbledore had taken the blame but those were just words, in the end, it was Mel and Harry who'd decided to drop every precaution, part of her felt she deserved all the hurt.

"You know," Erick said quietly. "I've been thinking about dropping out of school after this year."

"Why?"

"Well, my intention was to become a Ministry worker, but after these last few months, I realized they're useless. It would change my plans completely... but maybe I could join the Order?"

"Is that what you want?"

"I don't know what I want," He sighed tiredly. "I know I'm good at duelling and I have nowhere else to go... Did you know Sirius offered to take me in for the summer?"

Mel stared at him. 

"Well, he did," Erick continued. "He said I could live with him, that he didn't mind having me around — said I reminded him of his younger brother... Wish I could've done something to help him..."

"You should hate me," She blurted out. "My mother's going to hate me. She'll hate me for being impulsive and for not listening to my uncle — My brother will hate me..."

"Why would I hate you?" He frowned. 

"It's my fault that your parents kicked you out," She responded. "I made you write those letters to Anne. It was me who dragged you into this mess, you never wanted any of this, you would've lived a quiet, prosperous life —"

"And I would've been miserable," Erick shook his head. "You never forced me to do anything. You asked and I granted every time because I wanted to, I needed you to give me that final push... I made my choice the moment I met you, Mel."

"It's my fault you don't get to live with Sirius — it's because of me that you won't have a nice home —"

"It's because of you that I'm still alive," His voice trembled with incredulity. He moved closer and held her by the shoulders. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, I'm so lucky I found you..."

The girl had been shoving all her worries deep within herself for too long, she hadn't cried properly, refusing to let herself grieve since she felt she had no right to do so. Erick's voice sounded honest and comforting, she cracked under the pressure.

Erick hugged her and Mel wept like she hadn't done in months, not even while making peace with Harry. She sobbed as loud as she wanted, and the knot that had been stopping her from breathing finally loosened a bit, it made her feel as if she was slowly shrinking back into her child self, the girl cornered in the playground, but she wasn't alone anymore, and she was no longer a weak little thing.

Erick ran a hand through her hair gently, there was something about the way he touched her that made her feel safe. 

"You'll feel better. I promise you will..."

He'd lost someone not so long ago, the only adult he'd loved and cared for him. He was probably still grieving, but the fact that he was there, in one piece, was the definite and only proof she needed to hold onto her hopes.

When the last day of school arrived, it also meant having to sit there surrounded by curious eyes all staring at her and Harry, and she knew what Dumbledore would say during his speech. 

Stay together. 

She'd talked about the same thing for three days in a row and she was exhausted, if she could, she would drink a potion to forget everything, maybe even the fact that she was a witch, and she would go live with her uncle Lupin, surrounded by nothing but trees...

However, Mel had to keep fighting. It was far from over.

She decided to skip the feast and asked her friends to bring her food once it ended, she slowly made her way back to the tower. Mel turned right on one of the corridors and stopped abruptly when she saw Harry. 

For a second they stared at each other in mild confusion, they had been careful not to spend too much time alone because they knew they would end up discussing things they weren't ready to address. Mel gathered enough energy to give him a weak smile.

"Trying to find your appetite? Me too."

Harry raised his eyebrows. 

"You're not hungry?" 

"It's been happening all year," She sighed. "I guess I grew out of that too..."

"No way. You'll be eating in a week, I expect."

"I expect the same from you," She replied. "I'll make sure you eat twice as much. Merlin knows you need it."

A faint smile appeared on his face. 

"Care if I join you? I could use a walk."

The silence didn't last long when they found Luna.

"How come you're not at the feast?" asked Harry.

"Well, I've lost most of my possessions. People take them and hide them, you know. But as it's the last night, I really do need them back, so I've been putting up signs."

"That's horrible," Mel frowned.

"How come people hide your stuff?" 

"Oh... well... I think they think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually," The girl said casually.

"That's no reason for them to take your things," Harry replied. "They used to call Mel a nutter too, but they didn't hide away her things."

"That's because they thought I was an attractive nutter," Mel rolled her eyes. "Prats. People need new brains, Luna. You're wonderful."

"D'you want help finding them?"

"Oh no," Luna smiled. "They'll come back, they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway... why aren't you at the feast?"

Harry and Mel shared a look and shrugged. 

"We didn't feel like it."

"No," Luna agreed, and for a second, Mel was able to see something more than just the usual vagueness in her eyes. "I don't suppose you do. That man the Death Eaters killed was your godfather, wasn't he? Ginny told me. She also said your mother and him were expecting a baby, Mel."

Harry nodded, Mel barely replied with a broken 'yes'.

"Have you..." The boy started slowly. "I mean, who... has anyone you've known ever died?"

"Yes. My mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Yes, it was rather horrible. I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I've still got Dad. And anyway, it's not as though I'll never see Mum again, is it?"

"Er — isn't it?" Harry glanced back at Mel with slight worry.

"Oh, come on. You heard them, just behind the veil, didn't you?"

"You mean..." The boy started, but he didn't dare to finish.

"In that room with the archway. They were just lurking out of sight, that's all. You heard them. I could see you felt them too, Mel. They're always there."

Luna smiled at them carelessly, as if she'd just commented on the weather.

"Are you sure you don't want us to help you look for your stuff?"

"Oh no. No, I think I'll just go down and have some pudding and wait for it all to turn up... It always does in the end... Well, have a nice holiday."

"Yeah... yeah, you too."

"Bye, Luna."

As they watched her go, Harry turned his head slightly without withdrawing his eyes from the Ravenclaw.

"You think she's telling the truth?"

"About what?"

"Everything."

Mel stared at the notice on the wall for a moment, deciding to use her popular card one last time in order to help a friend. 

"I think I would love for it to be true," She responded. "And since I have the liberty to believe in whatever I please... then yes, I think she's right."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all week for the opportunity to strike without teacher witnesses, attempted to ambush Harry halfway down the train as he made his way back from the toilet.

The attack might have succeeded had it not been for the fact that they unwittingly chose to stage the attack right outside a compartment full of D.A. members, who saw what was happening through the glass and rose as one to rush to Harry's aid. 

Ron and Harry walked back into their compartment and told them what had just happened outside, Erick put down the book he was reading and scoffed. 

"One would think that having your parents sent to Azkaban would knock some sense into you... I'll have to keep an eye on them next year, then."

Mel turned to look at him in surprise.

"You'll come back?"

"Yes," He said, a little smile playing on his lips. "I got a letter this morning ..."

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. It was her mother's handwriting.

"I'm welcomed to stay with you this summer, and I think I'll take the offer," He grinned. "I don't wish to work at the Ministry, but I could learn a few things before I'm off to become a member of the Order. Besides, I can't think of a better way to thank Sirius than to look after all of you in the meantime..."

"I think that's very sensible of you," Hermione agreed. "It would've been stupid to give up your education now."

"What's stupid is that he's been ignored by his housemates," Ron replied. "The only decent bloke that house got in decades and they hurled him out? That's rubbish!"

Everyone stared at Ron with amusement, the boy turned a bit red.

"What? I can admit when someone's a good person!"

"I don't know what to say," Erick laughed. "Gryffindor's king just gave me his blessing..."

Ron turned redder and threw a jellybean at him.

Harry and Ron whiled away most of the journey playing wizard chess while Hermione read out snippets from the Prophet. It was now full of articles about how to repel dementors, attempts by the Ministry to track down Death Eaters, and hysterical letters claiming that the writer had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning...

"It hasn't really started yet," sighed Hermione gloomily, folding up the newspaper again. "But it won't be long now..."

Neville let out a short sigh, absently patting his Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Mel put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, he looked up and smiled tensely.

"Hey, Harry," Ron kicked his leg.

Cho Chang was passing by with Marietta Edgecombe, who made a great deal out of hiding her face. Harry barely reacted, glancing at her before returning his gaze to the game.

"What's — er — going on with you and her anyway?" Ron asked, unsure of whether this was a safe subject to handle with Mel around.

"Nothing," Harry answered.

"I — er — heard she's going out with someone else now," added Hermione, looking at Mel as well.

"You're well out of it, mate. I mean, she's quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful."

"Right, because Harry's a ray of sunshine," Erick taunted.

"She's probably cheerful enough with someone else," Harry shrugged.

"Who's she with now anyway?" Ron asked.

"Michael Corner," Ginny responded.

"Michael — but —" Ron stammered. "But you were going out with him!"

"Not anymore. He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead," Ginny said distractedly, focused on her Quibbler.

"Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot," Ron said happily. "Good for you. Just choose someone... better, next time."

"Well, I've chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he's better?" Ginny replied. 

"WHAT?" 

Ron knocked over the chess and Crookshanks chased around the pieces. Grey merely opened one eye before going back to sleep. 

Erick laughed again, freedom suited him. The stiffness of his shoulders had vanished and although he kept some old-fashioned attitudes, he was slowly coming out of his shell. Affection settled on Mel's heart.

"What about you?" He asked her, bringing her back from her reverie.

"What about me?"

"Do you have any new prospects in mind? I know Fred's hard to beat, but..."

"I don't think I'm ready to date anyone yet," Mel responded sincerely. "Why?"

"No reason," He replied. 

His eyes lingered on her long after she'd looked away.

The moment came when the train got to the station, and she stayed behind, unsure of whether she wanted to see what was expecting her outside the platform. 

It was time to meet her brother.

"Remember what I told you," Erick offered his arm for her to hold.

Her mouth was dry, but she nodded and held his arm firmly, letting him guide her to the other side of the wall with a firm step.

There was Mad-Eye Moody, looking quite as sinister with his bowler hat pulled low over his magical eye as he would have done without it, his gnarled hands clutching a long staff, his body wrapped in a voluminous traveling cloak. 

Tonks stood just behind him, her bright bubble-gum-pink hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the dirty glass station ceiling, wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend the weird sisters. 

Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers. At the front of the group stood Mr and Mrs Weasley, dressed in their Muggle best, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand-new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material.

Emily was next to Lupin, she was hugging a bundle of blankets that could only be one thing. She didn't look like Mel was expecting, there were dark circles under her eyes, but she was far from angry. 

Her face filled with relief as soon as she saw her. Mel stumbled back, not knowing what to do. Emily realized that her daughter was afraid and she looked at her in confusion. 

"Mel," She began carefully. "D'you remember what I told Harry last year after the third task?"

Mel remembered, of course. 

"You said no one would blame him for fighting as hard as he could."

"That's right," Emily cupped her daughter's cheek. "I was so scared of losing you... My brave, brave girl."

Mel hugged her mother tightly, around her, she heard the others welcoming the rest of their friends.

"Ron, Ginny! Oh, and Harry dear — how are you?"

"Fine..." 

"What are they supposed to be?" Ron's voice asked.

"Finest dragon skin, little bro," Fred responded, probably talking about his clothes. "Business is booming and we thought we'd treat ourselves."

Mel finally stepped back so Erick could say hi as well. She realized then that she was now as tall as her mother.

"It's time you meet someone," Emily said, drying her face with the back of her sleeve. "Come here... this is Leon Regulus. Reggie, this is your sister."

He was the tiniest person she'd ever seen, didn't have much hair yet, but his eyes were definitely grey. She remembered Luna's words and in a way, she felt that a part of Sirius still remained.

"I have a brother," She whispered in awe.

"Is that your sibling?" Ginny beamed. "Can I see him?"

Quickly, Ron and the girls approached to look at him. 

Harry stayed behind, a bit unsure of whether he was allowed to meet him.

"Hello, kids," Lupin greeted them while the rest of their friends surrounded Emily.

"Hi. I didn't expect... what are you all doing here?" Harry asked.

"Well, Emily can't drive and watch over the baby at the same time, as for the rest, we thought we might have a little chat with your aunt and uncle before letting them take you home."

"I dunno if that's a good idea," Harry said awkwardly.

"Oh, I think it is," Moody growled. "That'll be them, will it, Potter?"

Mel looked over Moody's shoulder and saw the Dursleys, shocked to the core at such scene. She couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it, the first genuine laughter ever since coming back from the Ministry.

She felt someone poking her shoulder and she turned, coming face to face with the twins.

"What, we stop seeing each other for a few weeks and you forget we exist?" Fred smirked. 

She jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. 

"I would never forget you. Have you met my brother?"

"Yes, ugly little thing," Fred grimaced, George hit the back of his head. "What? It's true! No newborn is pretty..."

"Bold words from someone with the ugliest taste in clothing," Mel laughed again, it was interesting what a bunch of familiar and happy faces could do to her soul.

"We heard Erick's staying with you this summer... Pitty, we were thinking about hiring him as our assistant."

"I would rather choke on my tongue," Erick walked up to them. "You look ridiculous, and that's coming from someone who likes to wear formal shirts on the weekends."

Fred and George trapped him in a bear hug and messed up his hair, Erick tried to fight back but it only made things worse. 

"You missed us!"

"Flimsy little prince like you must bore to death without us around to keep things interesting..."

"Trust me," Erick grunted, looking at her with a smile. "Mel made sure you weren't that sorely missed."

"Ah, kids!" Mr Weasley looked at them. "Boys, let go of him! Ah, look at what you did! He looks like a madman..."

Erick blushed a nice shade of pink, but he laughed it off. 

"It's okay, Mr Weasley..."

"He looks far better like this," Fred teased. 

"Don't listen to them, they're just jealous," Emily replied, followed shortly by the girls and Ron. "Harry, would you like to meet my son?"

Harry wasn't expecting her to address him, but he didn't have the nerve to say no. Emily took it as a yes and did something she hadn't done with the rest of them: She asked him if he wanted to hold him. 

Harry stared at the baby without uttering a word. He took him, and with a few pointers from Emily, soon enough Leon was safely tucked on his arms. 

"He's... he's got his eyes," Harry said quietly. "Reggie, you say? ...He's brilliant."

For a moment he forgot about the rest of the world, Harry could see his godfather reflected on those small, shiny eyes, and with that came a life with no mistakes in it yet, a new opportunity to make things right.

Emily didn't take the baby away, instead, she joined the group of adults.

"Well — shall we do it, then?" Mr Weasley then directed his attention to Moody.

"Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur." 

He and Mr Weasley took the lead across the station toward the place where the Dursleys stood, apparently rooted to the floor. Hermione disengaged herself gently from her mother to join the group.

"Good afternoon," said Mr Weasley pleasantly to Uncle Vernon, coming to a halt right in front of him. "You might remember me, my name's Arthur Weasley."

As Mr Weasley had singlehandedly demolished most of the Dursleys' living room two years previously, Harry would have been very surprised if Uncle Vernon had forgotten him. Sure enough, Uncle Vernon turned a deeper shade of puce and glared at Mr Weasley, but chose not to say anything, partly, perhaps, because the Dursleys were outnumbered two to one. 

Aunt Petunia looked both frightened and embarrassed. She kept glancing around, as though terrified somebody she knew would see her in such company. Dudley, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to look small and insignificant, a feat at which he was failing extravagantly.

"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry." 

"Yeah. About how he's treated when he's at your place," Moody growled. "And trust us, Emily has made sure to tell us all about it."

Her mother smiled brightly.

"I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house —" Mr Dursley started, but he was soon interrupted.

"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley."

"Anyway, that's not the point," Tonks added. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry —"

"— and make no mistake, we'll hear about it," Lupin added, looking briefly at Mel and winking.

"Yes, even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone —"

"Telephone," Hermione corrected under her breath.

"Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to," Moody growled.

"Are you threatening me, sir?" Mr Dursley asked in anger.

"Yes, I am."

"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?"

"Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Uncle Vernon leapt backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."

He turned from Uncle Vernon to Harry. "So, Potter... give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along..."

"We'll keep an eye on him, Moody," Mel's mother replied, "Erick, Mel and I will. Feel free to have every meal with us from now on, Harry. There's no reason for you to be eating rubbish."

Aunt Petunia gasped loudly at this.

"I..." Harry blinked. "Okay."

Emily stepped forward and seized Regulus, then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed Harry's cheek. 

"We'll see you in a while, love."

"'Bye, then, Potter," Moody patted his shoulder.

"Take care, Harry," said Lupin. "Keep in touch."

"You're not coming?" Mel asked. 

"I'm afraid not," The man said, hugging her one last time. "We have work to do."

"I could help if you want," Erick responded quickly.

"You're not going anywhere," Mel argued, holding his arm protectively.

"Maybe later, kid," Lupin answered, staring at them in slight amusement.

"We should move," Emily responded before Erick could argue back.

"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Mrs Weasley said. "And of course, Emily dear, all of you are invited."

"We'll see you soon," said Ron shaking Harry and Erick's hands.

"Really soon," Hermione added. "We promise."

Harry then summoned a real, loving smile. He waved at everyone goodbye and then turned to Mel and Erick. 

A strange thought came to her when she watched those two boys standing next to her and her mother: Family.

Difficult times were ahead, but they would go through them. Together.

"Well," Harry scratched the back of his neck. "I'll see you later."

Erick sat in the backseat with restless curiosity, examining every detail.

"First time?" Mel grinned, looking over to the older boy and her little brother, completely asleep on the baby chair. "If you feel like vomiting don't stress, I get carsick too..."

"Ready?" Emily asked.

Mel stroke Grey's head and turned around to face forward. 

Yes, she was ready.

Next Part —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

[thewidowsghost]

The Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 6

(Y/n)'s POV

Once I get over the fact that my brother's Latin teacher was half horse, we have a nice tour.

We pass by the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudge each other. One points to the Minotaur horn Percy is carrying. Another says, "It's them."

Most of the campers are older than me. Their satyr friends are bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. I'm not normally shy, but the way they are staring at me and Percy makes me uncomfortable. I feel as though they want us to do a flip or something.

I look back at the farmhouse. It's bigger than I'd realized - four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I'm checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something catches my eyes, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I get a distinct impression that I'm being watched.

"What's up there?" I ask Chiron.

He looks to where I'm pointing and his smile fades, "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?" Percy asks.

"No," he says with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I get the feeling that he's being truthful, but I am also sure something had moved that curtain.

As we get closer, I realize how huge the forest is. It takes up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron says, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asks. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own swords and shields?"

"My own - ?" Percy is cut off.

"No," Chiron interupts. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size five will do for you, Percy, and a size three for you, (Y/n). I'll visit the armory later."

Finally, Chiron shows us the cabins. There are twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They are arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on each side. And they are, without a doubt the most bizarre number above the door.

Except for the fact that each has a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they lock absolutely nothing alike. Number Nine has smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number Four has tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seems to be made of solid gold, which gleams so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all face a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field is a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it is a warm afternoon, the hearth smolders. A girl, maybe nine years old is tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick. I wave at the girl and she looks surprised, as though no one acknowledged her often, and waves back with a smile.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, look like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin One is the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmer like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seem to streak across them. Cabin Two is more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls are covered with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" Percy guesses.

"Correct," Chiron says.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

I stop in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It isn't high and mighty like Cabin One, but low and solid. The outer walls are of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashells and coral as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor. I peek inside the open doorway and Chiron says, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he can pull me back, I catch the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the shore at Montauk. The interior walls glow like abalone. There are six empty bunks with silk sheets turned down, but there is no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place feels so sad and lonely, I am glad when Chiron puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Come along, (Y/n)."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on Percy and gives him an evil sneer.

"Oh, look," Chiron says as we approach Cabin Eleven. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House is reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven. When we reach her, she looks me over critically, like she was still thinking about how much I drool.

I try to see what she was reading, but I can't make out the title. Then I realize the title isn't even English. The letters look Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There are pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron says, "I have Masters' Archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and (Y/n) from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin Eleven," Chiron tells us, gesturing towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, Eleven looks the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. the threshold is worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway is a caduceus.

Inside, it is packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags are spread all over the floor. It looks like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron doesn't go in. The door is too low for him. But when the campers see him, they all stand and bow respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron says. "Good luck, Percy, (Y/n). I'll see the two of you at dinner."

He gallops away towards the archery range.

Percy's POV

We stand in the doorway, looking at the kids. They aren't bowing anymore. They are staring at us, sizing us up. I know this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompts. "Go on."

So naturally, I trip coming in the door, and (Y/n) grabs my upper arm, straightening me up. There are some snickers from the campers, but none of them say anything.

Annabeth announces, "Percy and (Y/n) Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asks.

I don't know what to say, but Annabeth says, "Undetermined."

Everyone groans.

A guy who is a little older than the rest comes forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy, (Y/n). You can have those two spots on the floor, right over there."

The guy was about nineteen, and he looks pretty cool. He's tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wears an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance is a thick white scar that runs from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke," Annabeth says, and her voice sounds different somehow. I glance over and swear she's blushing, but after a moment she sees me looking, and her expression hardens again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" (Y/n) asks, looking rather curious.

"You're undetermined," Luke explains. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I look around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they are waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will I be here?" I ask.

"Good question," Luke replies. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laugh and (Y/n) facepalms.

"Come on," Annabeth tells us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"We've already seen it."

"Come on."

Annabeth grabs my wrist and drags me outside. I can hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing behind me and (Y/n) waves good-bye shyly.

When we are a few feet away, Annabeth says, "Jackson, you have to do better than that?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes and mumbles under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you two were the ones."

"What's your problem?" I'm getting angry now, (Y/n) watching us cautiously. "All I know is, we kill some bull guy -"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth tells me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

I shake my head. "Look, if the thing we fought is really the Minotaur, the same one in the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So..."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don't die."

"Oh, thanks. That clears it up."

"Percy," (Y/n) says calmly. "I think what Annabeth is saying, is that monsters eventually reform."

Annabeth nods and I think about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fur...I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there. You just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep," Annabeth answers and (Y/n) suppresses a laugh.

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' torturers, right?"

Annabeth glances nervously at the ground as if she expects it to open up and swallow her. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" I sound whiny, even to myself, but right then I don't care. "Why do we have to stay in Cabin Eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

I point to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turns pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or...your parent."

She stares at me, waiting for me to get it.

"Our mother is Sally Jackson," (Y/n) says softly. "She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, (Y/n). But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent. Your dad."

"He's dead," I say simply. "We never knew him."

Annabeth sighs. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say -"

"Because I know the two of you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about us.

"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How -"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

I try to swallow my embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?"

(Y/n)'s POV

"Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like...you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did. If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar."

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead. Face it. You're both half-bloods."

A half-blood.

I am reeling with so many questions I don't know where to start.

Then a husky voice yells, "Well! Two newbies!"

I look over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin is sauntering towards us. She has three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighs. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl says. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

"Erre es korakas!" Annabeth says, which I somehow understand is Greek for 'Go to the crows!' though I have a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounds. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse says, but her eye twitches. Perhaps she isn't so sure she can follow through on ht threat. She turns towards me, then she looks at Percy. "Who are these's runts?"

"Percy and (Y/n) Jackson," Annabeth says, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Aries."

Percy blinks. "Like . . . the war god?"

Clarisse sneers. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," Percy says, seemingly recovering his 'wits'. "It explains the bad smell."

Long story short, Percy made the toilets explode.

Yeah, I said it. He made the toilets explode . . .

Word Count: 2455 words

[snowydaffodils]

Hogwarts!AU: Kim Seokjin - Hufflepuff!

Kim Seokjin, a Hufflepuff

Kim Seokjin was born and raised by a Gryffindor family, one that screams justice and righteousness wherever they went.

His family was on the better side of money, and his older brother inherited each and every trait his parents had, including their enthusiasm to fight for justice and their moral values.

They were always on about fixing people's mindset about muggles, and fought against social discrimination.

Hardworking cheers and active campaigns are always visible in his family's daily lives.

Basically, hyperactiveness runs in the family. Seokjin wasn't excluded.

But he was hyper very differently.

Seokjin came to Hogwarts for the first time, following his older brother everywhere he went. He joined him in the train and met his friends, where they all looked up to his brother and respected him like a leader.

His brothers friends looked at him very differently, though. The girls kept pinching his cheeks telling him how cute he was and the guys didn't even bother with him.

Seokjin entered the Great Hall that night, determined to be placed in Gryffindor so he could be just like his brother.

But apparently the Sorting Hat saw something else in him and he was placed to Hufflepuff without hesitation from the old talking artefact.

At first, he was disappointed in himself, and cursed the hat for weeks to come.

But then he discovered the entrance to the kitchen is literally right outside his common room and he couldn't be happier.

He bragged about his cooking skills to the uncaring elves despite the lack of response.

They did responded when he tried to cook to prove himself, trying to pry him off the kitchen tools.

But with how convincing Seokjin was, he managed to cook them his dishes and if you force it out of them, they'd admit his dishes were good enough to be served in Yule Balls.

So they let him do as he please (or maybe they're just tired of arguing with him. This kid needs to go to the debate team or something).

Seokjin still tried to become a righteous leader like his brother was, though. He decided that being with his brother will not give him an opportunity to become a leader on his own, so he decided to find his own friends.

He found some people his age at first, but none of them really looked up to him like how his brother's friends did to his brother. He decided that if he had juniors then they would definitely look up to him like a leader, because he was older than them.

So Seokjin patiently waited to become a second year.

On his second year, he deliberately searched for an empty compartment, determined to be just like his brother, waited for new first years to enter and was ready to befriend them immediately. Eventually only one other person entered and joined him because he overslept and that was the last seat on the train.

That was how he met Min Yoongi, who nodded to everything he said just so he would let him sleep more.

Seokjin took that as a sign that he was agreeing with his values, though, and independently decided that Min Yoongi was his follower from that day onwards.

He pouted when the latter was placed in Slytherin.

But regardless of house! Kim Seokjin didn't fail in finding Min Yoongi outside of classes to preach about his values.

At first Yoongi was annoyed, but then he realized this Kim Seokjin is not so bad, and sometimes he makes valid sense.

Also he eventually warmed up to him because he constantly made him food.

Seokjin is not particularly bad at his studies, but he did get a 4 out of 100 in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He wasn't bad at Potions, it felt just like cooking to him.

Flying was meh, and so was charms, but his ultimate favorite is Herbology.

He collected more people to join his leadership pursuing goals in third year, and in came Kim Namjoon and Jung Hoseok.

At first he claimed himself as leader, but as time progresses, he couldn't help himself to look up to the younger Kim Namjoon. He adored the younger guy. His pride and Joy.

He was also disappointed when Namjoon was sorted to Gryffindor, and Hoseok to Ravenclaw.

Then Jimin got into Slytherin, Taehyung to Ravenclaw, and Jungkook to Gryffindor and Seokjin just gave up.

Both he and Namjoon dragged Yoongi with them to cheer for Hoseok's first Quidditch game.

Seokjin brings laughter wherever he goes, and the entire Hogwarts love him. Especially the teachers (except if he was going nonstop in class, but outside of that). He's just this bright kid that fits in wherever he goes.

While he may not have the charismatic leadership Namjoon has, everyone agrees to follow him just because they look up to him differently. He's just this ball of fun that everyone wants to befriend with.

Within his time in Hogwarts he realized he didn't need to become like his brother. He was absolutely content with six other boys from different houses that he befriended with. They didn't need to follow him like how his brother's friends did to his brother, but being with them was definitely enough.

Seokjin understood the value of standing side-by-side instead of being higher than the rest.

He was the charmer of the school. Nobody dares to oppose him on the most handsome in Hogwarts.

He got asked to Yule Ball (or any balls Hogwarts presented for that matter) a lot. He answered them with a, "If you don't mind me stepping on your foot during dance, then okay." Which apparently pushed a lot of people away.

Is always the clown during choir practice, makes dad jokes all the time to disrupt said practice, but Flitwick can't kick him out because let's face it, a third of the choir's volume comes from him.

Likes to take part in the Cypher going on in the Room of Requirement, but everyone just laughed and told him he did good. He didn't understand. So did he win or not?

This guy was sad and sulky when he had to go to Hogsmeade on his own because all the rest of the group were younger than him. It was not that he didn't have other friends, but none understood him like his special circle does, and the enjoyment wouldn't be the same.

But once he stepped in to Honeydukes, he forgot all about his sadness, and he spent the entire day examining each item he could from the shop.

He became a Honeydukes' tour guide to Yoongi, then Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook.

By the year he dragged Jimin and Taehyung in and gave them the infamous tour, Ambrosius Flame's wife offered him a job for summer breaks if he wanted to.

Least to say, he was delighted.

Honeydukes is usually the most crowded before Christmas, but since Seokjin had been part-timing in the shop, Honeydukes profits even more in summer.

He even made his own mini Honeydukes franchise within Hogwarts. Its an up and running business between the students.

Somehow the bright faces of these people who bought from him bring joy to him as well. He enjoyed doing it.

Seokjin came home one summer and told his parents nervously he wanted to open his own shop. He had expected his parents to shake their heads and push him as a justice advocate and take part in the ministry, like what his brother was thriving for, but to his relief and happiness, his parents hugged him and presented the warmest smile ever.

He went back to Hogwarts after that with the most excitement he had ever had. Also, by that time, he was appointed Prefect, and it was proof that his potential in leadership was no less than his brother's.

Seokjin was starting to understand Namjoon's preachings about loving yourself.

It was one of the reasons why he became so attached to the younger boy.

Seokjin passed by Hogwarts with the best smile he's ever gotten, and the best of friends to stick with for the rest of his life.

He may not have the best grades, or a career with the Ministry or some giant wizarding company like how Yoongi was, but he was happy and content, and he regretted nothing.

Kim Seokjin came to Hogwarts, disappointed that he was sorted to Hufflepuff.

He graduated thinking that Hufflepuff made him who he was. He took great pride in all the traits a Hufflepuff is glorified upon.

Kim Seokjin opened his first shop in Godric's Hollow, but a few years later was a regular sponsor of Hoseok and Jungkook's Quidditch team, the Puddlemere United.

He built a shop in London, and divided his shop to Muggle's division and Magical's.

His shop was famous in both worlds.

He was the best of both worlds, too. Major CEO in the muggle world (with the help of Hoseok and Namjoon, he was quick to adapt, especially with his looks), and a conglomerate in the magical world.

Seokjin was featured ever so frequently in the Daily Prophet for his good looks, successful career even with a few bad grades story, his inspirational magical words of puns, and his achievements in building a bridge between the muggle world and the magical world.

His parents couldn't have been prouder.

His brother was super proud, too. He used this as motivation to further advocate for the values of justice and equity.

He enjoyed the happy looks of his customers, and behind the magical division, there was a small garden, just for him and the other six, to argue and banter, and forget once in a while, that they were adults and working.

Kim Seokjin enjoyed those times.

He was content.

[jonghoshoe]

Just Peachy :)

@tinymingi you asked and shall recieve :)))

Summary: Moving to a new place is always a little unnerving, luckily there’s a cute, pink haired stranger who makes you feel welcome.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Word Count: 1-2k words 

No content warnings apply (unless you count like one swear word)

-

Moving house sucks. Especially when it's to somewhere you don't know. Not that you aren't happy with it- it's amazing to even get a house these days. But it's hardly fun to deal with all the boxes and the unfamiliarity of a new place.

Even less fun when said boxes haven't arrived yet. Seeing nothing productive to do, you've decided to explore the area, there's a few hours to spare before everything arrives so you may as well acquaint yourself with what's around you.

That's how you ended up finding a cute little corner café 'The Aurora', what a cute title.

It's fairly small on the inside, though there are a few seating areas outside too, and it seems to be a rather quiet place as well, perfect for just relaxing, especially after all the work you've been doing the past week.

The barista who serves you is a rather bright character, you mean this literally as he has a few pink streaks in his hair that shine a little under the lights. His name is Yunho, you find out from the nametag, and he seems to pick up on you being a stranger.

''New to the town or just here?'' He asks, setting about on preparing your order.

''New to the town, I just moved in today actually- figured I'd explore while I wait for everything to arrive.''

''Nothing quite like walking around a new place huh?'' He says, plating everything up (not that there's much) before he slides it over the counter, telling you your total with a cheerful smile.

''Hey- If you ever want me to show you around I'd totally be down for it! There's a few little secret places here that you might not find on your own.'' He suggests, practically bouncing on the spot.

''Maybe once I've settled in a bit more.'' You supply, it's not that you don't want to hang out with him- He's just so cute you're already getting butterflies!

Yunho smiles and nods as you walk away to a table, choosing a smaller one by the window so you can people watch.

The following day you're a little more anxious, you'd told your friends about the cute barista in your new town and now they all wanted to come over to see him- and wanted you to take him up on his offer.

So that was the plan for today, get his number and arrange a day to go out- maybe get some work done too since you'd brought your laptop.

Or it was the plan until he decided to flirt with you, saying ''One angel cake and peach tea for the peachy angel!'' with a wink.

That really shouldn't have stopped you in your tracks, it was so incredibly cheesy but he's just so- aah. You're pretty sure you already have the wings of the angel cake in your stomach.

He teases you when you freeze in place at the words, watching humorously as you stutter out an excuse.

''Ah just- your hair! Your hair is really nice, th-the streaks are cute.'' You say, the colour draining from your face when you realise you'd accidentally called him cute.

Yunho grins and shoots back, ''You're pretty cute too, maybe you should dye yours too and we can match.'' he says with a chuckle, full of confidence despite the blush dusting his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

You nod and walk quickly to your table, face flushed red as you hear him laugh behind you.

Well that didn't go at all as planned.

There's always tomorrow, you think. Settling down to get some work done- it doesn't desperately need finished now, but since you're still unpacking, you figure you may as well work on it here. The atmosphere is nice and the menu is relatively cheap, you can see yourself coming here often already.

You're distracted when you see Yunho coming over to your table out of the corner of your eye, paper bag and a coffee in hand. He flashes you a smile as he stands by the chair opposite you, ''Mind if I sit here?'' he asks. He's so cute that even your shyness doesn't stop you nodding in confirmation.

He grins happily when he sits down, pulling out his sandwich as he glances at you from over your computer screen, ''So, watcha workin' on?'' He asks.

Your response to a simple question turns into spending his entire break talking. You talk about where you're from, how long he's lived and worked here, you find out that you have some common interests and when you tell him your new neighbourhood, he tells you a friend of his lives there too and he hopes you can meet him soon.

The day continues with that accidentally happening, because apparently he's described you both to each other so now his friend is eager to meet you.

''I'm Jongho.'' He introduces himself as, walking with you as you both exit the corner store.

Jongho is a lot more quiet than you'd expected from someone who's friends with Yunho, and you tell him just that.

''Yeah, nobody ever believes us when we tell them I'm younger. Yunho is kinda like a hyperactive puppy so people never think he's the older one.'' He says, clearly having told this story a million times over.

On the walk home, he entertains you with stories of Yunho and himself, saying how they'd met during high school and been practically joint at the hip ever since. You come to learn a lot about the both of them, and in the end, Jongho and you exchange numbers when he walks you to your house (what a gentleman). He teases you about not having Yunhos number yet, but says he won't give it to you and you'll have to ask him for it yourself.

You end the night with your friends practically yelling at you over text to make a move already, you'd like to see them try and not be stuck in place by Yunhos flirtatious remarks and cute smile!

Okay, third day here, you've literally exchanged numbers with his best friend, you are going to get Yunhos. Nothing will stop you this time!

Alright, nevermind, you can't do this. You've barely even stepped in the door and you're already smitten.

He's dressed way differently today. He's wearing a giant, baby blue sweater that he's practically drowning in and he's tied his hair up in a cute little ponytail. You're almost tempted to text Jongho and ask if he planned this to fuck with you.

Alright, he's cute but you have to make your move today, you've put this off for too long.

Your ordering goes as normal, getting the same as you always do before Yunho starts talking with you, nobody else is waiting to order so he just talks at the counter.

''So Jongho told me he met you yesterday, he said you got along well?'' He says, seemingly very excited that you'd met his friend.

You confirm, and talk about how the evening had went and the stories he'd told you.

Yunho groans and hides his face in embarrassment at one of them, ''Of all the stories, he tells you the sleepover ones.'' he whines, his face almost matches the pink streak in his hair.

Your conversation is interrupted when the very focus of it enters the building.

''Jongho! Why'd you have to go and embarrass me like that!'' Yunho complains despite already gathering up what you assume is Jonghos usual order.

''What? They asked for cute stories about you, so I told them.'' He says nonchalantly, sipping on his drink once it's handed to him.

''Well- I didn't ask for specifically cute stories-''

''Yes you did.''

You kind of want to hit Jonghos coconut head with a real one for this, he just finds it hilarious that you're both equally as embarrassed now.

''Which story made him react this way? The-'' He begins to list them off when Yunho interrupts him with 'The teddy one.'

''Ah, that's a classic. Still dunno what's so embarrassing about it though.'' He says.

Yunho huffs and punches his arm, ''It's embarrassing because I'm a fully grown man who couldn't sleep without a teddy bear and had to bring it to a sleepover!''

''San literally has his entire bed covered in them, none of us were going to think it was weird.''

''But still!''

The three of you pass the time once Yunho is finished for the day, he had a shorter shift so he's happy to spend the evening sitting and talking, and he shares embarrassing stories about Jongho as revenge.

By the time the building has to close, you all agree to go your separate ways. Yunho lives in the same street at the shop, Jongho is going to a friends house to study, and you don't quite feel comfortable enough with going to Yunhos house yet to continue the conversations.

He asks you to wait at the door before you leave though, claiming he left something in the kitchen and needs to go pick it up.

When he comes back, he's holding a little bag, which he hands to you.

''I've been wanting to try something new with one of the cupcakes- I was hoping you'd try it and let me know what you think?'' He asks, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

''You never said you baked.'' You say, a little surprised at the gesture.

''Ah- well I don't really bake what's on the menu, but I thought this might be an improvement so I worked on it in my free time.'' He says with a smile, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

You nod and reply that you'd give the snack a try, then you part ways as you exit his neighbourhood.

When you get home and finally sit down that night, you open up the bag, noticing the cupcake in a little container and a small pouch in the bag beside it.

You open the pouch first, curious to what's inside and notice a small teabag and a note.

''Y/N. I figured you'd enjoy this with your food, It's the same brand we use at The Aurora! You seem to really like it so I thought I'd give you one.''

There's a little smiley face scribbled next to it, and below is a phone number.

Well, at least you don't have to worry about asking for it now.

Setting the note aside, you finally open up the cupcake, It's an angel cake like what you ordered before, but you notice the cream is tinted a little bit orange. Upon tasting it, you realise it's peach flavoured, matching the tea you'd usually drink with it.

You decide to finally message Yunho, sending a quick hello and thanking him for the gift.

Yunho: So, what do you think of it?

You: It’s just peachy :)

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

@eye-raq

Part 4

"E!" Ken mugged. Shawn was next to get popped, his fingers not even making it to the stew pot. 

"Ah-sh," he hissed sucking his hurt fingers before shaking his hand out. "You hit me harder, that's sexist," he complained.

"I hit y'all the same you just a bitch," Erik fired back causing Shawn to raise his hands in a loose fight pose. Erik dropped the wooden spoon in the pot and raised his own hands, slapping the air as Shawn looked for his in, swinging his open palms in what became a slap boxing match where neither of them were really tryna hit each other.

"Y'all foolish," Ken snorted picking up the wooden spoon to scoop some of the stew and taste it. It was good enough for her to try and eat the whole pot alone. She tried to get another dip, but almost dropped the spoon when her name was yelled.

"KEN," Erik yelled. She looked up with wide eyes knowing she'd been caught. "That's unhygienic you eating out the serving spoon. Put that in the sink- BITCH," he grinned smacking Shawn on the side of the head as retribution for the loud slap on the back of the neck he just took. He backed up when Shawn swatted back at him. 

"What y'all in here doing." Travis wandered in dragging his feet as he watched the two guys swat air and run from each other in the small space. He stood by Ken, crossing his arms as he leaned on the counter. "Five on Shawn." 

"Ten on Erik," she muttered looking from face to face as attention went to her. "What?... He soft on Shawn, y'all know he don't even be fighting him like that," she shrugged waving toward Shawn who stood with his jaw dropped. "Damn," he whispered.

"Soft on you too," Travis muttered. She knew he meant for her to hear it, but she didn't know how to respond. "Nah but facts," Travis pointed a little more loudly. "That's why my money on Shawn cuz my ass the only one he be rough with."

"DAMN. Y'all really don't believe in me," Shawn half-whined, going ignored while Erik held up his palms ready for another round.

"Nah, yo crackhead ass," Ken chuckled. Shawn lunged forward at Erik ducking awkwardly before hopping backward and flinching. Travis lowered his face in secondhand embarrassment while Ken coughed, covering her laugh. 

"I feel like if I put it out there that they never actually fight, they'll go harder and Erik might actually take the W," Ken explained quietly to Travis who nodded as the duo started back with the attempted slaps.

Erik balled his lips before swatting with his left hand. "Aye.. I gotta pop you one good time," he smirked, ready to lunge. He jumped forward reaching behind Shawn to pop his neck one time before jumping back and raising his arms in victory as Shawn's arms dropped in defeat. He stared at Erik with slitted eyes.

"Rematch nigga, that ain't count, " Shawn's hands waved dismissing the result. "Hell nah, one more. I'm high as shit this ain't even-"

"Crackhead," Ken teased.

"NIGGA I SMOKE WEED! FUCK YOU TALMBOUT," he whined as Travis pushed the money in Ken's palm. "Shid, y'all needa smoke some weed," he mumbled.

---

Things finally seemed like they were back to normal, well at least for her friend group. They'd wilded for a minute, but were back to that homeostatic point where they were all cool. Thankfully.

Ken sat down in the class she shared with Travis and Erik and by the look in Travis' eye as he looked back at her, something was up. Erik wasn't there today. She stared him down until he looked her way again and he rolled his eyes standing from his seat to walk back to her. "You don't wanna know, Ken," he sighed. That made her even more interested in knowing what it was he was hiding. Her eyes yanked his for information and after looking around to make sure no one was paying attention, he bent to rest his palms on her desk. "Aight, but I ain't say shit. You ain't hear it from me. You know dude you went to went to dinner with.... the second time?"

"Twin nigga," she offered.

"That nigga."

She waited.

"... Dude been spreading shit."

"Shit," Ken cussed in a whisper rolling her eyes. "I knew it." She didn't know it, but at the same time.. she did. Erik was right, she thought though she wouldn't say it aloud.

"Nah that's not what I mean." Travis held his hand out level in encouragement for Ken to stay calm. He could see she'd misunderstood. "Not like STDs, he been spreading shit.. saying he hit..."

It took a second for Ken to get what he was saying to her, it seemed so far-fetched.

"He been what?"

She could feel a few classmates' eyes on her but in the moment she didn't care because she was ready to rage.

"Yeah.. he talkin mad shit on you. I mean, he ain't say nothing negative for real but he been doing a lotta this," his hand flapped to his thumb. Ken leaped to her feet, her wedges scooting toward the classroom door in a hurry but she was yanked back by her blouse collar.

"Heeell nah," she said slowly, ready to square up. The twins were somewhat skinny and unless they could really scrap, she was confident she could beat their asses one at a time. Even if they could fight.. she was ready to beat their asses one at a time for talking on her name. "They got me confused with some weak bitch," her head shook. Her fist balled.

"Nah, hold up.. You ain't finna box no niggas, that shit over with." Travis held her in place as she silently seethed, murder in her expression. "Chill," he mouthed trying to calm her.

"You think I won't whoop a nigga ass," Ken snapped in question, the faint whispers of "shit" and "daaamn" from her classmates in the background as they minded her business.

"Oh I know you will!... Young lady," Travis smirked trying to calm her with his hand moving from her collar to her shoulder instead. "But you ain't got to do allat when you got niggas like us. Let us handle this." He looked like he knew something else that Ken didn't know because there was a twinkle in his eye and she could see it in his face, but she decided to let her friends handle it rather than continue to press the issue. If they said they had her, then she'd believe them.

She looked to the hall and back to her friend who was holding her before nodding, "...Aight."

Travis led her back to her seat and went to his, sitting as though nothing was wrong as the class started. She was able to focus for most of the class and take her notes, but her mind floated every fifteen minutes or so to what Travis had up his sleeve. Where was Erik?

---

Shawn pointed through the windshield from the parking lot as he sat passenger in Erik's car. Together they watched one of the twins as he walked along with his eyes deep in his phone. No words were needed, they hopped out of the car and walked up on him causing him to look up as Shawn looked around to check the surrounding area.

"We got a problem?" Shawn walked up to the twin's side, hands in his jacket pockets. Today he was sober.

"The fuck..," he muttered. He looked genuinely confused. "...Nah I ain't got a problem... You got a problem?" The twin eyed Shawn like he was slow, never ceasing his steps or changing his pace. He wasn't worried at all.

Erik stepped in front of him, reaching out so as to pause him, but not touch him before shrugging and rubbing his hands together civilly.

"Nah, we definitely have a problem. You fuckin with my girl, Ken, running your mouth like you want something bad to happen to you... It can."

"Who are you again," the twin asked, seemingly perplexed. Erik looked him over. This wasn't the one who'd called him out on his feelings for Ken, this was Trent, the one who'd left that night when Erik was scared a train would come through Ken's untrained pussy. They hadn't met.

"I'm the bodyguard that's all you need to know. Dead these rumors or something bad WILL happen to you and your bro, feel me?"

"That's what this is about?" Trent tossed his head back in humor before licking his lips. "Aight, I heard about you. You that confused nigga all up her ass... Wanna play brother, daddy, lover, but ain't give a damn about none that until like five minutes ago.. Damn," he chuckled assessing Erik and finding him humorous. Kenneth had given him the story based on what he'd picked up on. Kenneth and Ken were actually on good terms, Trent had only spread the rumor to piss off his brother in the spirit of brotherly competition. He didn't care one way or another about Kendra's prudent pussy or the nigga before him and his obsession. He nodded in relent, "..Aight bruh. That's your lil baby, I'll retract my lil rumors. I can admit when I did something shitty. I mean ain't shit already, it's not like I give a fuck. Don't nobody give a damn about those rumours. But aight." Stepping around Erik, he continued toward his class turning back to cup his hands around his mouth and yell, "ATTENTION MIT STUDENTS AND FALCULTY. DISREGARD THE DISRESPECTFUL RUMORS THAT HAVE BEEN CIRCULATING."

"Nigga, you started them," Shawn pointed in disbelief. Erik shook his head as he watched Trent's public announcement/disclaimer.

"I DID NOT HAVE SEXUAL RELATIONS CAMPUS QUEEN KENDRA. CAMPUS QUEEN KENDRA IS A VIRGIN."

Shawn winced at the word, glad Ken wasn't there to be embarrassed. Not that it was something to be ashamed of. He ain't mean it when he teased her about it.

"PSA! WE DID NOT FUCK. WE DO NOT PLAN ON FUCKING TODAY OR EVER. NOW LEAVE US BOTH THE FUCK ALONE."

Waving, he smirked and Erik watched him alongside Shawn as he walked away as smoothly as he'd come. Technically, he'd deaded the issue. He was loud as fuck.

"I still wanna beat his ass," Shawn mumbled under his breath, hands in his pockets. Erik was silent.

@muse-of-mbaku @imaginewhoever @goddessofthundathighs @panthergoddessbast @thadelightfulone @misspooh @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @marvelmaree @youreadthatright @forbeautyandlife @theunsweetenedtruth @bidibidibombaclaat @myboyfriendgiriboy @dameshaemonique @blackpantherimagines   @vikkidc @hidden-treasures21 @mysidefanting @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @syndrlla97 @winteroflife @thotyana-in-this-hoe   @texasbama @gingerylimonte @princessstevens   @magic-madness-heavensin @wawakanda-btch @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @wakanda-inspired @blackgirloneshots @thegucciwaffle @thiccdaddy-mbaku   @drsunshine97 @purplehairgawdess @indigoxsummers @cccccx1   @dynastylnoire @iamrheaspeaks @blowmymbackout @fonville-designs @they-call-me-le @theblulife @raysunshine78 @sheisexcellent

[theprojectava]

The Silent War

Sooo...remember the last post s8 fix-it post I made? I wrote a little something for it (I’ll upload it on ao3, too, but I still have to make an account there).

It’s not beta read and I suck at writing stuff in English since it’s not my mother tongue. Please bear with me. :)

(Fic’s under the cut)

Our room is dark, the blinds are shut tight

And everything is still too much outside

When he left it hurt like hell. It felt like Shiro had finally run out of time. He should've said something sooner.

There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week, after this mission,when this meeting's over, promise, I'll tell him then!

The war had finally, officially ended. But not for them. The universe was in disarray – all the Galra Empire had left in its wake were ruins and ashes of whole worlds burnt to nothing. The war had never stopped and so their duties as Paladins and diplomats of planet Earth continued to tear them apart. Silently. For no one to see. Not even Shiro.

He only felt the sensation of something finally ripping, when it was too late. Keith was gone. By the time they noticed, he was already on the other end of the known universe, fighting off war criminals and rebuilding what was left of civilizations that had taken the brunt of the Empire's wrath over thousands of years. Somebody had to do it, Shiro told himself again and again. And of course it had to be Keith. This was what he was born for. The stars. If he was completely honest with himself he had always known that the younger man was never meant to stay on the ground with both his feet. The moment he had seen him so many years ago, he had known. Keith was meant to fly and reach for the stars or go crashing down with them.

But it still hurt so much. Because in spite of knowing that this day would come, he still wasn't prepared to let him go. He wasn't prepared to lose the man that meant everything to him.

Maybe it had taken him too long to realize what Keith really meant to him. That he couldn't live without him by his side. There had always been tomorrow, another time, next week... The possibility that there would be a tomorrow without Keith by his side seemed so impossible after all they went through. But maybe that's what went wrong in the end. Shiro had taken Keith for granted – a constant in his life that would always be there, no matter what. And now it was too late.

It may be over but not tonight

I may be older but I still cry

I can't stop sleeping in your clothes

You can't stop calling on the phone

Keith never reacted to any of his text messages. Whether it was because he was busy... or for a whole different reason Shiro didn't even want to think of, he didn't know. Silence was all there was between them now. With every unanswered message the hurt sunk deeper into his heart. It festered there and turned into bitterness with every passing month. He felt hollow inside. As Admiral and part of the Terran Delegation there was quite enough work on his hands to keep him busy for most of the day. But every time he'd come back home to a dark apartment and cold sheets he felt like sinking deeper into an all consuming emptiness. He should've given up trying to contact Keith by now. He knew that. In fact he should've stopped thinking about the other man every waking hour. The only problem was... he didn't know how. It was all he'd ever done.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I'm holding on, I know I'm almost there

Storm reach out and tell me that you care

It stung like a knife to the chest when he found out that he seemed to be the only one who hadn't heard of Keith for almost a year. He'd met up with Pidge at one point, visited Lance and Allura on New Altea merely two months ago. He'd even made it to congratulate Hunk on his family's new house in person... The only one who hadn't seen him ever since he left... was Shiro.

Later he'd wonder if that had been the last straw. If that was what finally broke him. When he found out Keith was back on earth for a few days without telling him, he snapped. He packed all his stuff and left his office like a raging storm. He knew he shouldn't corner Keith like that. He knew deep down, that it was wrong. Patience yields focus, remember? But he didn't care for one second. His whole body felt numb, yet at the same time so full of cold anger. He needed answers. Nobody stopped him when he mounted one of the hoverbikes and sped off into the desert. He knew exactly where to find Keith.

When he reached the shack he knew Keith was there, even before he saw the younger man's pale face in the door frame. He was hurting them. Both of them and Shiro knew. But there was no turning back from this conversation now. There was no way this could go on for any longer. Shiro already felt like crumbling to pieces, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. At this point he really believed that he couldn't hurt much more. He'd been through torture and war. He'd survived the pits. He'd survived experimentation and losing his arm. He died and came back... But there was no way he could withstand this.

The moment they started talking Shiro could already tell Keith was closing in on himself, building up walls even he couldn't tear down anymore. The telltale twitching of his hands, the way his shoulders hunched... Keith was unreadable to most people. Anyone else would've thought of him as indifferent to what was going on. Shiro, on the other hand, knew what to look for. He could read Keith like a book. And that's where the fighting began.

Being shut out felt like a slap in the face. It burnt right down to his very core.

“It's better this way”, Keith told him. “I'm sorry...”

They screamed at each other. They cried. Two thrashing animals caught in a trap, neither of them ready to go down. Ultimately, it was all in vain. Keith had made his decision, for reasons unknown. He'd take this secret to the grave if he had to. Shiro would never know what drove the former Red Paladin away from him. But his choice was final.

Tears burnt in his eyes, when he turned to leave. He never wanted to do this... But the words bubbled up unbidden, nonetheless.

“Fine... If that's what you want. I won't stop you”, he looked back at Keith and saw the exact moment the words registered and hit home. “But don't expect me to be there when you decide to come back one day.”

That day he had hurt Keith in a way, he'd never forgive himself for. There was no going back from this. The damage had been done. He left without looking back, not expecting Keith to reach out and keep him from leaving. He never did, anyway.

I'm finally sober, I see the light

The worst is over, nobody died

I'm still trying to let you go

Oh baby, please, leave me alone

A brand new war began. One that Shiro wasn't sure he'd survive – a silent war. No one else could see it, but they could feel it. There was tension wherever Shiro went, hanging in the air around him like thick rain clouds. None of his friends dared saying anything – they all knew. They had to know. Because Keith never showed up to any of their anniversaries on New Altea, again. It was a silent war and this... this was Keith's way of opening fire. Shiro embraced it. Swallowed it. And then cried it out into the darkness of his empty bedroom, when no one else would hear.

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Just let it be, I'm in recovery

I know you wanna say you're sorry

But I don't wanna hear that story

Days bled into weeks, weeks bled into months. His heartache wouldn't fade. Shiro's chest had become an open wound refusing to heal. When was the last time he had laughed? He didn't know. All he did these days was work himself into the ground, working overtime for hours on end until he was either too tired to think or fell asleep in his office. That was until he fainted during a meeting. There's only so much sleep deprivation a human-Galra-hybrid clone body can endure.

When he came to himself again there was a man hovering over him. He remembered him from the Atlas. One of the bridge staff. What was his name again? Carl? Curtis? Curtis.

“Are you alright, Sir?”, he asked.

It's weird... how things change so fast.

Turned out Curtis was what Shiro needed. For the moment. Talking to him was easy... kissing him was easier. Easy was good for now.

They moved in together after dating for a few months. Shiro proposed after another two or three. Of course Curtis said yes. Everything was easy with him. So why did Shiro feel like he was drowning? Sending the invitations to their wedding earned him a few rounds of interrogation from his friends, especially Allura and Pidge. They'd picked up on what had occurred between him and Keith – mainly because Keith had quite regular meetings with Allura and Lance on New Altea, since he became a senior member of the Blades... At least that's what Shiro heard. Both of them knew how much Shiro was hurting, but all they could do was give him sympathetic glances. They knew why Keith did what he did. That maybe protecting his own poor heart from potential hurt was what led to them silently tearing each other apart. It hurt to watch.

Of course they sent an invitation to Daibazaal, too. Since none of them knew Keith's current location, they'd chosen to send it to Krolia instead, knowing Keith would get it, sooner or later. That was Shiro's counterblow in this cold war between them.

Always thought you'd be the one

Who always needed me

My home, you'd be my home

After the wedding, the silence only grew. As did the emptiness in Shiro's life. His marriage lasted for a whole 2 years. The time it took them to get divorced included. There were no “I told you so”s from his friends – only support and a lot of hugs. Shiro didn't know what was worse. Because he himself had known this relationship was meant to crash and burn the moment he had proposed. Maybe before.

He felt terrible. Throwing his own heart in the line of fire because he couldn't let go of someone who clearly didn't want him was one thing... Pulling Curtis into this and putting his heart on the line as well, was a whole different thing. Has he always been such a terrible human being? Could this be the reason why Keith left? Because he'd seen how Shiro hurts the people around him on purpose? There was no way of knowing now. Keith was long gone... and yet, he was still everything Shiro ever knew.

Suddenly, your memory

In time is like an enemy, so cold

Five years. It had been five years since the last time they saw each other. Back in Keith's shack. Shiro's last words still rang in his ears, loud and clear. It had taken him a year or so, until he realized he'd used the same words Adam had thrown at him, before he'd left for the Kerberos mission. It felt like a lifetime ago. Another thing in a long line of things he regretted voicing or not voicing in front of Keith. It seemed like he never told Keith the most important things. But if he did tell him anything, only the wrong things came out. Things he never wanted anyone to hear. Unfair things.

The universe, as Shiro had known it, was in shambles.

A soft ping was all it took to tilt the universe back into the right direction. It was 3:00 am. An unusual time to get notifications nowadays. Shiro had stepped back from a few positions in the past year, slowly letting others take the reins. It was time for him to go back and teach at the Garrison... Or maybe... Maybe one day he'd see the stars again. He could hear them calling already.

Another ping and he was fully awake. With half lidded eyes a grabbed his phone. The bright orange light was nearly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom. He took one look at the display and nearly dropped the device into his own face. Wha-... Was he dreaming?!

There were two messages glaring back at him, taunting him. This had to be a dream. It had to.

Keith (03:02):

Dear Shiro.... I know I fucked up royally. Fuck, I'm not good at this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's been a while..... But can we maybe talk?

Keith (03:03):

I understand if you don't want to. I'll leave you alone if you don't want to see me. But I... I can't do this any longer.

Shiro's heartbeat was deafening. Blood rushed in his ears. He had to pinch himself to make sure this wasn't another cruel dream.

This was happening. This was really happening. It had been five years. Five years of silence.

His fingers moved before he could even register what was happening and pressed “send”.

Shiro (03:05):

Don't be. We both did a lot of fucking up. We can talk whenever you want.

It took about ten minutes and Shiro was ready to dose off again, when his phone went off. It wasn't a text message this time. But a video call.

“Hey.”

A single word. It only took a single word... His voice was tinny and rougher than he remembered. His hair had gotten longer. Long enough to be braided actually. There was an edge to his face that hadn't been there when Shiro last saw him. But it was Keith. Sweet, beautiful Keith.

“Hey”, Shiro replied, his voice raspy and thick with emotions.

They talked. They actually talked. At 3:00 am. Not about what happened between them, not about the reason why Keith left, not about Shiro's marriage or divorce. But they talked about small things, like Keith's latest mission or that annoying woman from the canteen who didn't get the message Shiro was into men. But who could blame her? Ever since Curtis Shiro had never tried dating again.

When they finally hung up it was with the promise of meeting up when Keith got back to earth next month. It was almost 5:00 am. Neither him nor Keith had said it out loud, but it hung between them, so thick it was almost palpable.

“I miss you.”

Can't you see I'm in recovery?

Meeting Keith after all this time was like finally, finally putting the shards of his universe back together. Like finally laying their weapons down and calling off the war they had started on that fateful day in the shack.

It was awkward at first... until it wasn't.

One touch, a simple hand on a shoulder kind of touch, was all it took to open the gates to a flood. There were tears. Lots of tears. Tears of joy and sorrow, of forgiveness and apology. Years worth of silence were shattered by a flood of words. Once they started they couldn't stop. Hugging each other and holding on tight, never wanting to let go ever again.

“I'm so sorry”, whispered Keith in between ugly sobs. “I'm so, so sorry. I thought-... I thought-”

“Shhh”, Shiro tried to calm him, tightening his hold on Keith. But the younger man wasn't having it.

“No-... No, you have to hear this.”

He leaned back a little until he could look into Shiro's eyes. His eyes were red and still full of unshed tears.

“I'm sorry I ran”, Keith tried again. This time his voice was steadier. “I didn't know what to do. I thought... After the war you... You deserved better.”

“Better?”, Shiro frowned. “Better than what?”

“Me.”

At that moment it felt like Shiro's heart would burst out of his chest.

Before he could say anything Keith continued: “I... I thought after all you've been through, you deserved a life far away from war and fights and-... I knew I couldn't give you this.”

Another sob rocked Keith's lean body. He'd bulked up a little over the past few years, but he still felt so small and fragile in Shiro's arms.

“I never wanted to hurt you. But... I was afraid... Of hurting myself.”

There was a moment of silence. But a different kind of silence – a pleasant one. Finally, finally Shiro understood.

“You were trying to protect your heart”, he whispered.

Keith's eyes went wide for a second. But he nodded nonetheless. There was nothing left for him to lose. He'd lived five years without Shiro by his side... He'd been through hell already. All because he couldn't just tell Shiro how he felt.

“Well”, the corners of Shiro's mouth turned up into a soft smile. “there's no need to. Never was.”

Again Keith's eyes went wide, his brows rising almost comically high. Slowly, to give him enough time to pull back if that wasn't what he wanted, Shiro leaned down, until their lips were almost touching.

“I never told you this. I never found the right moment... and then you were gone”, with every word their lips brushed against each other. Keith closed his eyes. “Maybe I can tell you now.”

And with that he closed the distance between them.

Kissing Keith was everything he ever imagined it would be... and still so much more. The soft, warm feeling of his lips, the slow drag of his tongue against Shiro's bottom lip were intoxicating. He was done for. He knew that the moment he had to lean back and take a breath. He already missed the warmth of Keith's lips on his.

“I love you.”

The confession left his lips and he couldn't stop. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Tears filled the younger man's eyes again.

“I love you, too.”

For the first time in years it felt like there was a silver lining at the horizon.

They could to this. They could make this right. It had taken them five years, but finally, finally the universe seemed whole again.

The war of silence was finally over.

Song: “Recovery” by LP