#and then blaming herself for accidentally allowing everything to go wrong in the first place. by trying to fix it

[kagoutiss]

oot zelda doodle i liked :’-)))

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[jasmine-the-fox]

Down you go

Before you all read this... I want to make one thing clear to you all (what i’m about to bring up happened on ao3)

Never EVER! Ask me when the next update is going to happen before or after you make a salt request! It’s very rude and I will ignore you and or block you if you do this!

Anyways... Enjoy the salt fic! This request was made by @pinkskeletonsharkdeputy

It had started off as a normal day... Until it went down the hill... Literally, Marinette was having a great day! She had spoken to her girlfriend for a bit this morning which made her happy, then Lila was quiet this morning... Save for a few glares from her classmates, she aced three tests that Lila tried to claim she cheated... Resulting in Lila getting three weeks of detention for false accusations with lack of proof and her girlfriend called her to say she sent her a gift!

And then it went bad...

Turns out that when Mari was at the bakery for lunch (like always) and to see her gift... Lila claimed to the class that Mari pushed her down the stairs to try and make her stay away from her Adrien (even though Mari is a lesbian and she told the class before Lila even came to school) then warned her that if she tried to get near Adrien... She would be in a worse condition then this, she cried and claimed that she was hurting (she had no bruises, no cuts or even a bone either dislocated or fractured) so the class decided to get back at Marinette by making her go through the same thing... Even though Lila lied to them.

Mari got back to school to hear her classmates whispering her name, she thought it was strange but decided to wait and see what will happen next, the day continued with Lila going back to lying in miss Bustier’s class... As it was the only class she could get away with it, Mari completely ignored her and simply focused on using her new tablet that Jasmine bought her as a gift, at one point Caline ordered her to give Lila her supposed “stolen” tablet and apologize (Lila claimed that her mother bought it for her a week ago) problem was... The tablet was a new model that came out three days ago and she only got it this afternoon.

Mari even showed the proof that it only just arrived...

Everyone was quiet at this info... But Lila still lied her way out of it and claimed that she must have believed it was her’s by mistake, the class then went back to ignoring Mari and listening to Lila instead, Mari went back to using the tablet to draw and work on a few personal things that made her smile before saving them to her computer and tablet at home, she packed up as the bell rang and then left the classroom when it happened... Lila purposfully bumped into her and stole her tablet, then as Mari took one step down the stairs.

Alya pushed her to fall down... And the class laughed at her...

They claimed she was trying to be petty when she screamed and cried for help, they claimed she was joking when there was blood and they scoffed as she was placed into the ambulance that miss Mendelieve called, police did a quick investigation and reviewed CCTV footage before taking Alya by for to the station to ask her what she was thinking that would happen after pushing Marinette down the stairs.

Sabine called Jasmine about what happened and the girl rushed over in a panic, when Mari’s bags were handed to them, Tom was shocked when the tablet wasn’t there, police came and it was Jasmine who revealed she had gifted it to Mari... And then revealed it’s last tracked location... Lila Rossi’s bedroom. They rushed over and searched her room to find it in her trash can... Broken, Lila claimed she bought it yesterday and Marinette destroyed it, but Jasmine’s tracker said otherwise, so Lila was arrested for lying to the police, theft and destruction of another’s property... Also was forced to by a new one.

Lila’s mother refused to help her, claimed that Lila was on her own now and instead gave the police permission to search there home and to question Lila fully... Without the rights to a lawyer, Lila was shocked at this but her mother simply left the apartment to go do some shopping... And use her daughter’s money to buy a replacement tablet for Marinette, Lila tried to fight back, claiming she had nothing to do with Marinette being pushed down the stairs... She only stole the tablet... This confused the police since Alya claimed it was all Lila’s idea because Marinette did the same to her.

Lila denied it fully, Marinette never pushed her down any stairs, she admitted that Mari didn’t like her because of her lying disease that causes her to lie about anything and everything... She accidentally got triggered and lied about Mari pushing down the stairs, she tried to tell Alya that it never happened but by then Alya had already pushed her down the stairs, the class was laughing at Mari and claimed Mari was faking it up till she got to the hospital, the two officers now understood that Alya was lying to them... And then Lila continued, she revealed that her teacher, principal, Marinette and her parent’s knew about this... But no one else knew.

This told them everything in an instant...

To make sure Lila had friends, the principal and teacher agreed to keep this info about Lila a secret from the class... Not caring that it might cause problems if someone was accidentally targeted by Lila’s lies, since Marinette was more then likely the main target, the teacher and principal did nothing to stop the class from bullying Marinette... And now they would suffer from there choices, they decided to place an investigation on the two adults, and asked Lila to come to the station to answer a few more questions... Lila agreed while secretly smirking at the fact that she would get away with this by putting the whole blame on Alya.

Meanwhile, Marinette woke up to find her worried parents and a relieved girlfriend, Jasmine helped her to sit up and explained her condition and how long she would stay at the hospital and then at home before even thinking about going back to school, Mari sighed in relief... But then panicked at the fact that she couldn’t find her tablet anywhere “Lila stole it from you, she claimed it to be her’s and you destroyed it but I had a tracker on it just incase, so she needs to buy you a new one” Jasmine explained as she pulled out a new one “Her mother came to drop this off, she explained Lila was to be questioned and went to get it for her daughter” she added making Mari nod as she then turned it on.

“I had it configured to your previous tablet, so you don’t need to set anything up” Jasmine said making Mari smile, she then pulled out the pen and began to sketch, a doctor and police officer came in together, the doctor got to examining her before explaining her whole condition and what she might need to go through, then explained that the Cesaire family will need to pay for all the treatments as it was Alya who caused all of this to happen, once gone, the officer began to question her, Marinette told the officer everything... And by that...

I mean about Lila transferring, her lies beginning, her leaving for a while, her return with more lies, her threat towards Mari, her attempt of getting Mari expelled, her expulsion canceled with Lila claiming she has a lying disease, Lila lying to the class about Mari bullying her and the class turning against her to bully her in return the supposed bullying she caused to Lila...

The officer was shocked by all this information, so much more different from what Lila Rossi and Alya Cesaire reported... The officer could tell that only Marinette Dupain-Cheng will tell the truth in the end, the officer then thanked her and then left to report all of this, Mari relaxed with Jasmine helping her when she could, her parents then left to take care of the bakery, Jasmine waited for a bit before she sighed “I really think you should switch schools... Even if Lila is gone... The class won’t apologize for there actions... They won’t admit to being wrong until they suffer from there actions... And then hope that you will save them” she explained making Mari nod.

For a week she rests in the hospital before being allowed to rest at home, where she stays there for two weeks, during that time Alya told everyone to blame Lila for the whole incident... While Lila cries to her mom as to why Alya would lie and accuse her of causing Mari to be in the hospital... While the police look deeper into Lila Rossi, Jasmine was at Marinette’s side the whole time she was at the hospital and at home... While no one in the class came to visit her, they all believed she was faking it... All the while they got a new principal and teacher after the investigation the police did on the school.

Now all that was left was Marinette’s classmates...

When Mari returned to school, the whole school minus her classmates welcomed her return to school... Some came to visit her to see how she was doing in her recovery, she was happy to have visitors checking in on her like that and Jasmine was relieved that they were so kind towards her girlfriend... But she was worried about her going back to school, because of the fall her legs needed time to recover so she needed some support for them thus she needed a crutch, the school was informed and students were told to help Marinette when they could and to not mess with her crutch.

That didn’t stop her class though...

When she walked into class, Alya was the first to snap at her for cause her parents to get mad at her, how was she supposed to know that the fall was serious, she kept yelling at her until there new teacher came and told her to stop or she would get detention, Alya tried to defend herself but there was nothing she could do about it, she was to blame for forcing her parents to pay Marinette’s medical after Alya pushed her down the stairs... Now she had to face her actions... Not long after class started, the police came to speak with Lila for her lies about everything... And to Alya for attempting to try and blame Lila for everything.

Both girls tried to defend themselves but there teacher forced them to follow, once outside the class, the two girls began to fight... Well if you can call Alya screaming at Lila for causing everything and Lila crying as she tries to defend herself a fight... Then sure, anyways the police didn’t care and forced them to follow them to the station to be once again questioned... When asked why they replied with them needing to help fill out some holes in the story... Both girls agreed... Without knowing that the police caught them right where they wanted them.

Once at the station, there parents watched as the two girls lied about what happened... And never bringing up the past of when it all started when the officer asked about it... They simply acted like the question was never made and continued explaining everything, there parents refused to help there daughter’s and asked that the rest of the class get’s questioned about all of this... Believing there was more to all of this and one of them might be able to help with the whole situation... The police agreed to the request.

And there answer... Was in none other then Adrien Agreste himself...

When he was asked to answer a few questions he agreed... But at the station he claimed to have the whole story on Lila and her actions, they sat down with him and talked... About everything, including the deal he made with her to bring Marinette back from expulsion, the police was shocked and asked if he did anything to help Marinette, he explained that his father ordered him to stay away from Marinette and to make Lila happy... Meaning he had to follow her around, go where she wanted to go and even agree with whatever she said.

The police was furious about all of this, as a result... Lila Rossi, Alya Cesaire and Gabriel Agreste were arrested... For different reasons of course, the rest of the class were given fines while Adrien was sent to London to live with his aunt.

Meanwhile... Marinette transferred schools to be with Jasmine... She changed her number and anything else connecting her to her old class, so even if they tried... None of them but Adrien can contact her.

It was there own fault for going down the way they did...

[alwaysmarveling]

Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

-

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

-

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

-

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

-

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

-

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

[itsamiraculous]

Alya and Secrets

So I started making a post about Alya and secrets a little while back, but after Sentibubbler I put it off as I wasn’t sure, however after Rocketear I feel as if it still stands. 

Sentibubbler revealed to me that yes Alya can control things by herself, is loyal to Marinette and wouldn’t reveal her secret easily. I never wanted to insinuate that she ever would, but now after Rocketear, I feel as if my belief that Alya will make a mistake with the secrets department. Alya has told Nino about Rena Furtive when Marinette had firmly told her not to, knowing of Marinette’s fears and her position as Ladybug.

Alya decided to tell Nino everything because she doesn’t like keeping secrets from him, her relationship has never been like that. Her role as a journalist is to seek the truth as well. She is not comfortable with keeping secrets, and I don’t blame her for that, I think it’s actually very commendable. What I don’t agree with is that she has gone against Marinette. The repercussions could be dire, like what happened in Optygami, or it could cause a huge rift in their friendship. In Sentibubbler Marinette was afraid that all of her secrets would get out and that she would be betrayed by Alya. I believe that she will still have a “betrayal” by Alya (also by Chat, but that’s a different post). Then in Gang of Secrets she was afraid of telling Alya everything could change and potentially destroy their relationship.

Rocketear also highlighted again why Marinette keeps secrets. We see it breaking her relationships throughout this season; she is making sacrifices to those she cares about because of the role she takes on and the stakes as Ladybug and is breaking her and potentially all of her relationships, whether that be with family or other. 

Rest lies below the cut, this is a long post

Her responsibilities are keeping her away from happiness, with her family, from her friends, and has also broken her chances for romance with anyone. I don’t think that is a coincidence that her family was brought forward and the fact of Marinette’s need/want to keep secrets will be tested with Alya. Marinette’s vehemence of keeping her identity a secret is also influenced by the events of Chat Blanc

Speaking of Chat Blanc, within this episode Bunnix explains briefly why she was chosen to be the bearer of the Rabbit miraculous and it was because she knows how to keep a secret. Alya has constantly been surrounded by the challenges of being Trustworthy. Key episodes this season being Sentibubbler, Gang of Secrets, Optygami and now Rocketear.

I feel as if this has much more weight on it now after everything that has happened in this season so far.

Previously Alya has been shown how trustworthy she can or can’t be. In Puppeteer 2, Alya insists she didn't tell Nino about Marinette’s crush on Adrien when she clearly had. 

She clearly did tell Nino, or accidentally told him because otherwise there wouldn’t be the narrative of Alya and Nino trying to get Adrien and Marinette alone together etc.

I do trust Alya, but she has a recurring theme where there is too much emphasis on the word trustworthy which insinuates that this is a challenge for her character. 

Alya can als be quite pushy. Like in Sapotis when she got too swept up, and Trixx planted the notion of becoming a permanent miraculous holder, but he was also the one to help her realise to prove herself trustworthy. Trixx and Alya can also be very hard to say no to, they have a persuasive attitude, but it can also make people realise things.

Alya can be very pushy when she gets swept up in “helping” Marinette get close to Adrien. Reflekdoll and Gigantitan always have rubbed me the wrong way with Alya’s role. In Gigantitan, Marinette wanted to help that woman up the stairs who had baby August in the stroller, Alya insisted for Marinette to stay, until the woman was really struggling and Marinette just went, and even then Alya was in her ear saying to hurry up as Adrien was coming.

If Alya just let Marinette be everything would have been fine. In all actuality, if Adrien saw Marinette he would probably help and it would start a lovely, genuine conversation considering he also wanted to help, but couldn’t. It’s in their blood to help. Both Marinette and Adrien earnt the miraculous because they were the only ones around who cared enough to help people. 

In Reflekdoll it was both the fault of Marinette and Alya that Juleka went in on herself. Marinette didn’t allow Juleka to speak as she bombarded her with questions. Alya was pushing because of the time crunch and pushed Marinette and Adrien together, she had completely overlooked Juleka’s feelings as well. Marinette didn’t completely get blinded as she did try to double check that Juleka was alright. 

Alya can just be impulsive sometimes. Most of the time when she is told to stop, like in Sapotis when Marinette tells her to slow down in trying to find out Ladybugs identity, and then when Ladybug tells her she can’t tell anyone, Alya complies.

Being impulsive is what Alya has in common with Chat Noir with his self-sacrificial tendencies and emotions clouding judgement.

She is aware of getting ahead of herself anyways

Alya and Marinette are both making mistakes. Alya made a huge one in Optygami because her judgement is impared due to her emotions towards Nino. Marinette has made and is making a lot of mistakes. The huge ones are those which take time to surface, like what happened with Chloe and what is happening with Chat Noir. Marinette decided to reward Alya by giving her the miraculous permanently. I don't think she should have done that, at least not yet. It's a huge risk on top of another. Marinette knew from the beginning that Hawkmoth knew who the holders were, yet still decided to give them out to the same people, however with Chloe it was totally different. She should have been open with her in the first place. 

Marinette has also always been super lenient with Alya as well, first with allowing Nino and Alya knowing their alter egos (although Alya knew of Nino in the first place), but again a huge risk really, as we saw in Catalyst, they got distracted, and their emotions getting themselves turned into scarlet. 

Although, I do understand that there was a time crunch.

Marinette often has a double-standard and bias when it comes to Alya. For instance, in Style Queen Marinette was going to give the Bee miraculous to Alya as well. 

Why!??? When Alya already had been using the Fox Miraculous. Ladybug’s decision to constantly not tell Chloe is what led to Miracle Queen. It was not fair. Sorry, there is no way I can really excuse that. She was so blind-sided by judgement in that decision.

However that has equally been counteracted by proving she is trustworthy, that she is loyal and also looks for the facts. Alya can also be level-headed like the approach of finding out who was framing Marinette in Ladybug. 

She has been a big help for Marinette as well, as we see in Mr. Pigeon 72.

She was a miracle in Sentibubbler as well! As she kept her cool and thought ahead. She still made a couple of mistakes like telling Chat Noir it’s a two person operation etc. Not her fault though. Nothing said in that moment would have helped.

Alya is definitely a huge asset for Marinette to have, by running ideas and taking some of the pressure off of her shoulders and ultimately being able to think for herself.

It all comes back to Bunnix in Chat Blanc as well saying she can keep a secret, so I fear what is to come. Alix has constantly been the one shown to have a rational head. Reverser being the big one, but also the little comments when with the girls like in Gang of Secrets and Gigantitan. 

I have a feeling that Marinette’s leniency with Alya may end up being a mistake. I do think it’s good some of her weight has been lifted, but now it seems she is being a little arbitrary. Alya we know has a huge target on her back. She may have saved herself in Sentibubbler, but now she has told Nino everything, against the wishes of Marinette. Although, Marinette says that she does trust Alya when Alya fixes things at the end of Rocketear.

I think Alya makes this decision as she is firm in her belief that secrets shouldn’t be kept when it comes to loved ones, especially those who are meant to be your partner (best friend, boyfriend/girlfriend). I also wonder whether this decision to tell Nino was also influenced because Marinette was easy on her after what happened in Optygami, thinking Marinette wouldn’t mind. Plus she got around it all in Puppeteer 2.

Marinette is actively going against her own beliefs (and what she was told by Master Fu) by utilising the same miraculous holders. I understand that she is the new guardian and she is making her own rules, but she also saw sense in keeping things secret, because of her own identity, and how she refuses to allow Chat Noir to know who the holders are as well. It is way too risky, whatever Marinette is up to. She is not allowing Chat Noir his right to know as much as she does; they are meant to be partners, but it doesn’t feel like that. That is all due to her fear of Chat Blanc and its events. She is now heavily reliant on Alya/ Rena Rouge. That is going to cause a huge rift once Chat becomes wise to their dynamic as we are seeing blatantly now in Rocketear. 

What happens if Alya slips up again and it’s huge this time. What is the secret that Bunnix is referring to that makes Ladybug/Marinette realise that she is the one to be trusted with the Rabbit miraculous? When will that be? Will Marinette have a falling out with Alya after finding out that Alya told Nino that she was still working as covert Rena?

I think what Marinette has decided was untimely. These kids shouldn’t be dealing with this, but they are. They are feeling way too much and are still trying to learn about themselves. It is not fair. They are bound to make decisions. I just have this unsettled feeling that there is too much concentration around this topic to overlook. I don’t think that Marinette is going to be best pleased when she finds out that Alya has told Nino everything, especially after all that she has sacrificed with Luka and Adrien and as Rocketear stated about her family again. I think the pressure will get to her again.

[thedistantdusk]

Invisible Stranger

Written for @clarensjoy‘s Hinny Fic Fest! Prompt #28: “Just... talk to me. Please.” Thanks to Ina for the quick beta :D Summary:  When Ginny Weasley is eleven years old, Tom Riddle changes the course of her life. But she’s only eleven, so she doesn’t see it at first.  TW: Coded/implied assault. Mild smut (later excerpts).  ________________________________________________________ When Ginny Weasley is eleven years old, Tom Riddle changes the course of her life. 

But she’s only eleven, so she doesn’t see it at first. 

All she knows is that Tom talks to her when she’s lonely, although to say they merely talk would be a staggering understatement. She hears his voice more than anyone else’s. She sees his face when she sleeps. She cries to him, bonds with him, pines with him. She thinks of him so often — regardless of if they’re actually talking — that it doesn’t even occur to her that some of these thoughts might not be her own. 

She doesn’t even realize he’s entered her until it’s too late. Until he’s done it. Until he’s made her do things… shameful things. Things she’d been embarrassed to report to her parents. She knows full well she’d only be met with reprimands for making herself vulnerable in the first place. 

When she tries to ask her brothers for help, a tiny part of her is happy they don’t. How can she possibly explain this without feeling a hot, aching brand of shame deep in her soul? She’d have to answer some ghastly questions, ones that would make the whole situation even harder to believe. The thought of taking Veritaserum makes her shudder; she’d have to admit — perhaps to a Ministry stranger — that she did enjoy parts of this. 

She’d have to watch even more of her agency slip away, right in front of her eyes, as her body betrayed her yet again. The mere thought of the sort of mortifying confession that might slide off her tongue is enough to shut her up… enough to keep her from being even more persistent. 

Ginny just lies awake at night and grasps at the straws in her spinning mind until her head pounds from the exertion of trying. She’s desperate to remember something — anything — from the swaths of time that just disappeared. She eventually reaches the conclusion that perhaps she’s forgetting on purpose; perhaps she’s protecting herself. 

She just hopes and prays that the memories won’t slam into her sometime in the future with the force of a freight train.

She ultimately decides it’s a blessing, really, that she doesn’t get help. After all, she’s spent eleven years trying to convince everyone that she’s not a baby. It would be the worst kind of setback to ask for help now, just as she’s gained some independence. 

When she chucks the diary in the toilet, she’s confident she’s handled it herself. Her mother wouldn’t be thrilled that her only daughter found herself in this situation, but Ginny likes to think she’d be proud of her resourcefulness. Proud of her only daughter, who’s finally taken control. 

Still, Ginny keeps her head down, keeps her face impassive, keeps her cloak pulled tightly to hide the deepest blush of regret that crawls up her chest whenever she thinks of Tom.

Then the worst possible thing happens: Harry gets ahold of the diary. The second she sees it with his books, she can almost hear the entire world crumbling beneath her feet. 

She only has a single thought: No. She can’t let him. She can’t let Harry, of all people, have open access to the thoughts that have plagued her for months. The thoughts (the lurid, inappropriate thoughts) that she’s had about him. 

So she steals up to Harry’s room and snatches it back, her heart pounding in her throat. She’s long past the point of needing the diary itself to hear Tom’s voice, but seizing it again — letting him inside of her again — doesn’t exactly help. 

Because right from the off, this time is different. The diary hums against her fingers, throbbing in her palm; Tom hasn’t said a word, but she knows he’s going to punish her. She lets out a strangled choke, her eyes rolling back in her head. He’s going to make her regret her little stunt of chucking him in the toilet, isn’t he? Yes. He’s going to make her rue the stupid, impulsive part of her that thought she’d find a way out.  

Her last thought as she loses consciousness is that maybe death will end it. Maybe in death, she’ll truly be free.

Ginny doesn’t die, though — and to her surprise, she can’t even hear Tom when she wakes in the Chamber. All she knows is that Harry’s there. And Ron. And… Lockhart? Seriously? 

Shit, maybe it would’ve been better if she died. Then she wouldn’t have to endure the remnants of this mortifying, twisted nightmare. Then maybe she wouldn’t have to sit there and sob as Dumbledore and McGonagall explain this to her parents. 

She just lets the tears flow as her father yells, as her mother makes incredulous sounds. With every intonation and raised voice, a single word thumps against her skull: Weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak. 

She’s weak. 

But at least for now, she’s alone in her own mind. At least for now, it won’t happen again… not like it has. In retrospect, she reckons she should’ve known better to think he’d ever truly left. Because Tom Riddle has already become her past, present, and future. She just doesn’t know it yet. _______________

Tom takes a different form during her second and third years at Hogwarts. He isn’t entering her or forcing her to do things or beguiling her with his charm and feigned interest, but he’s there nonetheless. He’s dancing, taunting her in the edges of her periphery… crawling in when the weather changes and everything grows cold and dark. Whenever she does poorly on an exam — especially in the winter months, the anniversaries of when things went from Vaguely Bad to Horrifically Bad — she swears she can feel his sneering lips pressed to her neck as his high-pitched cackle resonates in her brain. 

“You’re a baby,” he jeers, his face split into a predatory grin. “I can’t wait to see how else you fail.” 

When Ginny catches a glimpse of the way Harry peers at Cho, Tom only reinforces how she’ll never compare. “Look at her,” he taunts, and Ginny can almost see the leer curling his lips. “She’s poised and beautiful and perfect. She looks like a woman. Why would Harry ever want a girl?” 

And he says it so much — and Ginny thinks it so much — that she starts to believe it. He’ll never want her, will he? It’s clear Harry likes girls, women, who don’t need rescuing. Why would he want someone who’s been tainted with darkness? 

So Ginny moves on… slowly. She finds strength in other ways. She uses quidditch to regain trust in her own body, the trust she had before Tom made her question her own muscles and movements. 

She even dates, as she feels a normal teenager would. Not that she breathes a word about Tom to any of her potential suitors. She knows they couldn’t handle it; most boys couldn’t, not that she blames them. She knows untainted boys would respond like her friends have: by awkwardly clearing their throats through a whispered, “Oh” or a strangled, “I’m so sorry.” Then they’d treat her like she’s made of glass, and it would ruin things. 

Because if there’s one thing she won’t tolerate, it’s someone making her feel weak. Weak gets you in trouble; weak ruins your life and makes you undesirable. No matter how much Tom loves to bother her in winter, she’ll never let anyone see the resulting weakness.

_______________

Ginny considers herself fortunate, really, that Tom doesn’t outwardly come up when she ends things with Dean. It’s an accomplishment that she escapes from that relationship relatively unscathed. Her darkness didn’t accidentally show itself or lay there, sprawling and naked, for him to pick apart. 

It’s different with Harry, of course. She knows it will be from the second he kisses her in the common room. He’s the first one who doesn’t need to see her in a mask of normalcy and constant contentment. He’s the first one who understands that she’s not asking for an apology or reassurance when she accidentally drops a sad piece of her backstory into a casual conversation. 

On the few occasions when she does say things like that (because, again, she doesn’t have to watch her words with him) Harry just holds her closer, her ear pressed to his beating heart, as he runs his calloused fingers through her hair. 

And Ginny thinks, for once in her life, that perhaps there’s an unspoken value in sharing that sort of darkness. 

_______________

She tells Harry the full details of Tom pretty soon after they start shagging. She knows the war’s over; she knows they’ve kind of won. She also knows a well-adjusted person would have left this bit behind… but she reckons neither of them will ever be well-adjusted, really. They’re the sort of couple who cries when they hear I love you but remains stone-faced at funerals of their friends. For Harry especially, she knows that love presents as something that makes him feel uncomfortably warm, almost smothered. It can be a prickly, painful, cloying sensation… one he doesn’t always know how to respond to. With everyone else, he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing. Of seeming either too flippant or too mindful. 

But as their bodies connect, as they rock together in the dying sunlight, his fingers digging into her hips as he pulses inside her, he doesn’t have to pretend, either. 

Harry’s angry when she tells him… but not with her. He’s angry Tom ever made her feel that way. He’s especially angry with the worst of what Tom said: that on the off-chance Harry did want her, he’d only want her for sex. 

Harry brings it up several months after her initial admission.

“You know what I think about a lot?” he slurs, his finger tracing the curve of her breast as she lies naked beside him. 

She quirks a brow; no, but it doesn’t seem like a rhetorical question. 

Harry sighs, flopping over to his back. “I mean, I know it’s horrible and everything,” he allows, raising his hand in warning, “but seriously, I can’t help but be confused that Tom thought I’d be good enough at sex to use anyone for anything in the first place!”

There’s a moment of silence. 

And then Ginny cackles, shaking her head against the threadbare pillow in her bedroom. Harry joins her, pressing her against his side.

“I’m glad we’re both fucked up,” she says, when the giggles subside. “I reckon normal people are boring.” 

“Probably,” Harry agrees, his hand unconsciously toying with her hair. “Guess normal isn’t really my type, though.”

“Oh, so you prefer funny and traumatized?”

Harry smirks. “I prefer you.”

_______________

Tom doesn’t come back in full force until she falls pregnant the first time. 

Maybe it’s because they hadn’t planned on this— and regardless of how misty-eyed and excited Harry is, they definitely hadn’t planned on it. 

Maybe it’s because she’s certain it’s a boy, which carries certain burdens as the son of the Chosen One.

Maybe it’s because she’s feeling a similar loss of control, like her body isn’t her own. 

But mostly, she reckons, it’s because she’s plagued with the near-constant thought that she’s doing something wrong. 

She had a glass of wine before she found out (strike one, Bad Mum). She trips on her trainers and lands on her bum (very, very Bad Mum). She starts spotting at 12 weeks after she goes for the only jog of her entire pregnancy (horrifically Bad Mum; utterly unfit to raise a child). 

And all of this spins around in her head, faster and faster and faster, until she sees Tom’s face again one night. “You’re fat now,” he mocks, his voice a cruel whisper that slithers into the space between slumber and consciousness. “The nerve of you, thinking you’d do something so selfish as staying in shape at a time like this. I can’t wait to see Harry’s face when you tell him you’ve lost the ba—“

She bolts upright in bed, her heart pounding, and throws the blankets off to peer between her thighs. A ragged chuckle of relief escapes her lips. Nothing. There’s nothing, the baby’s fine, and—

“Ginny?” 

Shit.

She bites her lip and turns to Harry. He’s peering at her, his expression exhausted but alert. She hates that look, she really does; it reminds her too much of when he’d woken from his own dreams, right after the war. 

“A nightmare,” she whispers, brushing his hair from his eyes. “Only a nightmare. Go back to sleep.”

Harry sighs and grips her hand. He knows better. “Just... talk to me. Please. You don’t even have—“

“—It’s Tom,” she cut across, biting her lip. She feels guilty enough for waking Harry when he’s got work tomorrow; she’d better make it quick. “It’s just… stupid pregnancy shit, taking the form of Tom. Or maybe it just is Tom, somehow. I don’t really know.”

She throws her hands in the air before settling back against the headboard. And then, in a small voice: “He just… he’s so great at making me feel stupid.” 

There’s a beat. 

Harry reaches up to cup her cheek; she leans into the warmth, unsure if she’s finding more comfort in the familiarity or the gesture itself. 

“Well,” he says slowly; she can tell from his tone that he’s biting his lip, even if she can’t see it in the darkness. “You’re not stupid. But it’s also not stupid that he still makes you feel like that sometimes. Does that… make any sense?”

Her lips twitch in a soft smile. “It does. It makes sense. I just... I hate feeling weak.”

Harry chuckles and pulls her against him. She sighs into the crook of his neck, her eyelashes fluttering against his skin. 

“I could use a lot of words to describe you, darling.” His fingers dance on the gentle swell of her belly; he always sounds so pleased when he touches her, especially here, like he can’t help but feel chuffed that he’s actually knocked her up. “But I’m afraid that weak doesn’t make the cut.” 

Ginny giggles. “I’ll just have to settle for mad, I reckon,” she manages through a yawn. What is it about his bloody heartbeat that always settles her?

“Mad it is,” he agrees, kissing her forehead.

_______________

“It’s him again, isn’t it.” 

It’s not a question. But if it were, the answer would be obvious. 

Ginny’s staring out the window, her whole body poised and anxious. Every fiber of her being is taut. If she had a bit more self-awareness, she might compare herself to a hunting dog who’s just sensed a pheasant. 

But self-awareness is the furthest thing from her mind. Not when she’s worried about her babies. And she’s worried about all of her babies, yes — but there’s something especially triggering about the involvement of her little girl. Her only girl. Her girl, who’s exactly the same age as she was, right when—

“He’s here!” 

Ginny scarcely hears the words leave her lips as Pig flies through the air and into their open window. Safe. She hasn’t even read the letter yet, but she can tell from Lily’s messy scrawl across the parchment, from the agreed upon symbol of a tiny dragon, printed in the corner, that she’s safe.

Ginny has to draw a deep breath to stop herself from bawling with relief.

“Told you she’d be fine,” Harry murmurs, wrapping an arm around her waist. He rests his chin on the crown of her head as Ginny rips the letter open, nonetheless desperate for the proof she knows she’ll flnd. Desperate for confirmation that her baby’s made it to school all right. Desperate to know another little girl — her little girl — won’t find herself violated and alone. 

Ginny reads the letter through a veil of tears and presses it to her chest when she’s done. Safe. Her baby’s safe. 

A few minutes later, she turns to Harry with an apologetic shrug, brushing the tears from her eyes. “Ready for dinner?” she asks, gesturing towards the door. “Or did you want to stay inside all day and mope about having an empty house for the first time in ages?” 

Harry rolls his eyes, but a smile plays at his lips. He mutters something under his breath that distinctly sounds like not sure which of us was doing the moping, darling. 

But Ginny’s happy to ignore that as she links her arm in his. She’s pleased to go to dinner and drink too much and laugh too loudly. It’s just another reminder of what she has… and how she almost didn’t have it, at all. 

Because while Tom Riddle might be her past, present, and future, Ginny will do everything in her power to ensure he never defines another little girl’s life like that. 

Ever again.

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Alya & Nino (commission for miner249er)

Fourth chapter of @miner249er ‘s commission

Chapter Summary: The truth is harsh. Teens are harsher.

Previous Work

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Truth.

As an aspiring journalist it was something Alya strived for. It was the most important thing she could give the people who followed her so diligently. She thought she had been giving them that. She had been so good about giving them the truth, her truth, and Ladybug’s truth in the past, she foolheartedly believed she was continuing to do so despite taking shortcuts later on in the road. Why didn’t she fact check herself? Why did she throw that very thing in Marinette’s face? What kind of reporter was she? What kind of friend was she? The answers were all around her and yet she still wasn’t ready to face them head on. There was still that voice in her head that was telling her that this was all Lila Rossi’s fault. 

But is it? Alya thought as her and Nino ate together at her house, the TV on in the background. At first it had been on the news but Alya was done with the news for a long while, all it had been was coverage of The Protector and Nino had immediately taken the remote and changed it to cartoons. This was hitting him hard, harder than Alya had expected if she was being honest. When they found out Ladybug and Chat Noir had, in fact, not defeated The Protector and instead the akuma, that Marinette had gone missing, it hit the class hard. Hard because they learned the truth about Lila in that time and that had been rough to work through. Then they had to come to the realization that they believed Lila over Marinette, the sweet, kind, selfless girl that had all at one point been friends with. 

Then the lies got to them. It poisoned them. That’s what Alya had written on her blog anyways. They were victims of a silver-tongue and they had paid the price, one they had not been prepared to pay for. Their friend was missing, had been missing and they couldn’t do anything. Alya had been searching through as many local papers and news around the world for any clues if Marinette had possibly gone to those places. Everything was coming up empty. She had even made a separate website along with Max all about Marinette and what had happened, she left ways to reach her and her classmates in case anyone had any info. Nino said they should have added Tom and Sabine’s information as well but Alya was too scared to ask them if they would be okay with it, last time they had all been at the bakery the tension had been palpable. 

They weren’t banned like Nathaniel had worried they would be but every time they went in with their families, because that was the only time they went in there, it was always awkward. Tom and Sabine were much too nice to ban them even if they felt like they deserved it. How did everything go so wrong? Even school wasn’t as fun as it had been. Walking into their classroom was like taking a walk of shame, people from other classes, even teachers just stared at them. Some even glared. Then there were the whispers, Dieu the whispers, they followed them everywhere not just school, but they were the most prominent there. Her, Nino, and their classmates would find notes in their lockers, none were really threatening but they tore at her heart all the same. Things like, ‘You’re the reason she’s gone,’ or, ‘Are you guys proud of yourselves now?’ ‘Were the lies worth it?’ ‘You traded in a gem for fool’s gold.’ ‘What a reporter you turned out to be.’

All the notes hurt. That was the truth. That last one? She had found it in her locker this morning and it burned. Alya had been bullied before, she never liked to think about it, who would? But she was and she had to acknowledge it because she had told herself she would never allow herself to be bullied again, and most importantly, she would never turn into a bully. Wrong. She was wrong, and it wasn’t the first time she had been made aware of this since everything happened. Since everything changed. It was a blessing that Nino and her were still together, he never partook in the “tough love” the class had been giving Marinette before she...before she had been akumatized. Sure he didn’t stop them, and that was bad, but he didn’t go out of his way to not invite her to things until she stopped being “jealous” and started acting like the bigger person. Nino wasn’t the one who ignored her text messages, which now that Alya read them, were pretty telling that her friend had been hurting and she had only made that worse. 

“What are you thinking about babe?”

Alya looked up from her half eaten bowl of soup to see Nino gazing at her in concern. “Marinette.”

“Oh…” He breathed out as he put his spoon down and looked down at the table before placing one of his hands on hers and giving her a small smile. “Everything will be okay Alya. Someone will find her and then she’ll be back home.”

Empty words. Empty words fed to him too much from adults who didn’t have any updates on anything. “You don’t believe that. And even if she did...who's to say she would even want to talk to us!? What’s to say that anything would be better? We would still be seen as the bad guys! We will still all have to eat lunch at our houses or the park just to avoid the stares and the whispers and the tossed trash our way and the “accidentally” spilled drinks!”

Alya had never understood just how much their class had been living in its own little world. Not to say they were completely unattached to the rest of the school, Alix, Nathaniel, Rose, Chloe, and Sabrina were in the art club (the art teacher and the rest of the club had made a mural of Marinette without notifying them or asking for their help. Everyone is encouraged to leave notes about Marinette on the mural. The art room even has a chair decorated in honor of Marinette that no one else can use. That was announced very pointedly Alix later shared.), Rose was in the scrapbooking club (no one asked to use her materials anymore like they used to), and Max was in the gaming club which Marinette had helped him set up (people weren’t showing up lately.) They weren’t kicked out, but they were reminded of Marinette all the time,it was like everyone’s way of punishing them. It had never occurred to any of them how popular Marinette was.

So popular that the whole school seemed to hate them. Even Mlle Mendeleiev seemed to be harsher than normal and that was really saying something, it would seem like she had a soft spot for Marinette. In their class everyone avoided Marinette’s seats in class, Alya had to step up as class representative but the silver lining was that Nino had stepped up to be her deputy. Though another negative was the fact Nino had stopped making his music and taking DJ gigs. At first he hadn’t said anything to her or their friends, Alya found out because of Chris actually, but then her and Adrien confronted him and he broke down. He cried and he didn’t stop for a long time, but when he had calmed enough to talk he pulled out old pictures of him and Marinette, told them stories about how they had grown up together. It had made the pit in Alya’s stomach grow, she had just been thinking about her and how much she blamed herself and how much she missed her best friend, she hadn’t even thought how this was affecting Nino.

“I...I need to believe it Alya. I need to. Because if I don’t I will break apart. Mari...Marinette and I were best friends in l'école primaire. I never thought she would ever not be a part of my life. Then the whole Lila thing happened and I turned into a coward again, like I had with Chloe! No, worse than a coward! I don’t even know what I would call myself but I know I can’t call myself her friend.” His voice rose the more he spoke and near the end it cracked. 

“Nino…”

“No. I know that’s the truth! And I know, I know that things at school have been rough. Hell, they’ve been awful, everyone sees us as these villains in some trashy young teen novel when all we’ve done is make a mistake! Yes. It was a big mistake but it was a mistake nonetheless but we’re...we’re kids dammit. We’re just kids.” Alya felt tears race down her cheeks as she saw her boyfriend break yet again, his cheeks wet with his tears, his voice choked with his guilt. 

“I know. I just...I just want her back. I want everything back. I don’t know how many times we have to apologize to the school, but they’re not even the ones that need to hear the apologies! The one we need to have hear us isn’t here and…” Alya could feel herself breaking but she tried to hold on. Nino needed her to be strong. Her class needed her to be strong. Her family needed her to be strong.

“I can’t take the stares! Or, or hear Rose’s cries that she tries to hide from us. Mylene hasn’t been eating and I know she thinks we don’t notice and Adrien, god Adrien. I’m trying to hold it together because my bro is falling apart at the seams! First Marinette gets...gets fucking akumatized, then his dad and Nathalie get taken to the hospital from some supposedly random attack but it’s pretty obvious it was Mar-the akuma’s doing, his mom freaking pops out of nowhere but of course that can’t just be a good thing because everyone has to talk about how his dad and Nathalie were probably Hawkmoth and Mayura! And I’m over here trying not to think too much about all that because it makes actually too much sense, but then we find out that Marinette was most likely Ladybug! LADYBUG!” He lamented, not bothering to hide the fact he was crying, more like sobbing. It just made Alya cry more.

“I...I wanted the truth for so long, but not like this. Not like this. I...I know this makes me sound like the worst person on the planet but I kind of wish stupid Gabriel Agreste wasn’t Hawkmoth because then I could be akumatized and maybe I could be some kind of time-travelling akuma and we could go back and fix everything and school wouldn’t be hell and the twins wouldn’t act like they had to walk on eggshells around me all the time and my dad wouldn’t look like he’s always so disappointed in me and my mom wouldn’t look at my with only pity in her eyes and Nora would talk to me and Marinette would be back!” Alya sobbed out. At this point her and Nino had moved from their seats to the kitchen floor and were huddled together hugging each other for comfort. 

The two just sat there soaking up whatever comfort they could and dreaded the time that passed. For each minute that passed, was a minute that brought them closer to having to go back to school. Alya didn’t know if she had the strength to go back and deal with everything, she didn’t know if Nino could handle it either, but she knew her mother would be by any minute to give them a lift back to school. If there was a way she could just finish school online, Alya was willing to do it, but her father wouldn’t ever allow it. He had put his foot down, Otis Césaire was mad, then he was disappointed and he thought it only fair that Alya face her peers and continue on at Françoise Dupont. It didn’t feel fair, it didn’t feel fair at all, it felt like punishment. Hadn’t she been punished enough? Even in sleep she wasn’t safe, all she dreamed of was Lila and her making her act like a puppet. She would see puppet her do all these things to Marinette and she would wake up in sweat and tears.

“Okay I’m here, I hope you two are ready to head ba-” Alya looked up to see her mom standing there staring at her and Nino, her mouth agape. “Oh Alya...Nino...How about I call the school and tell them you’re not feeling good? And I’ll call your parents Nino.”

Alya was going to respond, she really was, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out but a choked off cry and nod. Nino nodded as well as he took in a shaky breath. “Th-Thanks, Mme C.”

“Nino, you know I told you to call me Marlena. Now you two go rest in Alya’s room while I make those calls. Then maybe I can get the rest of the day off and-” 

“No manman. Things...things are already bad enough, don’t make it worse by not going back to work. I don’t...I don’t want to be the reason why you get fired.” Alya mumbled as she and Nino got up off the floor.

“Oh...Oh my little one, that won’t happen. And if it did, not because of you. Never. Don’t you think that.” Alya’s mother breathed out as she pulled her daughter into a hug before taking her daughter’s face in her hands and doing her best to wipe her tears. 

“Papa and Nora would! Nora still won’t talk to me and Papa only looks at me like he’s disappointed he ever had me!” Alya cried out before she could stop the words from coming out. Her mind completely forgot that Nino was standing right beside her until she felt him hold her hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Your Papa is just being stubborn, but you listen to me, he could never ever be disappointed in having you. You are our daughter. You made a mistake yes, but I know you know you made a mistake and that you are sorry. Your Papa will realize that. He just needs time. And Nora...she just needs time too. I just think she doesn’t know how to handle everything and that she’s mad that she couldn’t protect you sweetie. She’s always been the protective older sister, and this was something she couldn’t protect you from herself. They’ll come around. I’m sure.” 

“If you’re sure manman…”

“I am. Now you kids go relax. I’m going to take the rest of the day off and go to the store for dinner ingredients, I’ll be back soon. I know things are hard my little Melusine but they won’t always be like this.” With a kiss to her forehead and a swift hug to Nino, Alya’s mom left the two teens in the family apartment.

At first they just stood there in silence and sniffles, but Nino made the move to put their plates in the sink and rinse them out while Alya gathered their schoolwork back into their bookbags. Then they  made their way to Alya’s room and kicked off their shoes before sitting on the bed. Nino nudged Alya who looked at him in confusion until she saw him give her a crooked smile and open his arms which she fell easily into. She took off her glasses and placed them on her bedside table while she felt more than saw Nino take off his cap. For a while they just sat there in the quiet of the moment and Alya was content to do just that, to just have a moment of peace, but she slowly pushed away and reached for her remote to turn on the TV and quickly pulled up Netflix. Her mom wanted them to relax so why not fry their brains with some television. 

“Anything in particular you want to watch?” She asked as she settled back against Nino.

“As long as it has nothing to do with school or superheroes...I’m good.” Nino responded with a hollow chuckle. 

“I’m glad we don’t have to go back too…” She murmured, “Should we...tell the others?”

“Probably. But if I’m being honest I don’t really feel like talking to them and them asking how we are and if we’re okay when they know we’re not. I just. I don’t think I could handle that. Not today.” 

“I get it. Sometimes I feel like everyone else even blames me for what happened. Like... Like it was my responsibility to not fall for the lies and to warn them. Like my word would have made a difference! Mari...Marinette’s didn’t so why would mine?” Alya huffed as she scrolled through all the movie and show choices and tried her best not to cry again. 

“If they blame you then they need to blame me too and blame the people in the mirror. We all fell for the lies. Sure you’re the budding reporter, but the blame could just as easily be pushed onto Max who is so smart he created a living AI. But we have no one to be mad at but ourselves and we can only do that for so long.” Nino sighed as he held her closer and kissed her temple. Alya relished in the warmth of it all. 

“When did you get so wise?” Alya teased softly.

“When I decided to rewatch Star Wars. But no seriously. If anyone in class bothers you please tell me because we should be sticking together not at each other’s throats.” Nino stuck out one hand and Alya slid her hand into his.

“Cross my heart and hope to die. I will. And you’re right, we do need each other, especially now, especially at that school.”

“Especially at that school, yeah.” He laughed out. “We’re going to get through this. I don’t know how, but, we are and we’re going to do it together.”

Alya smiled wryly before she looked up at Nino and it slipped into a real small smile. “Together.” She agreed softly.

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l'école primaire - elementaryschool

manman - Haitian Creole for Mother

[minniepetals]

a cup of love

— summary: some days they can forget to appreciate you but even then, you’ll never stop to show them that you care

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: fluff, angst, mafia!au

— word count: 2.2k

— warnings: koo yells at reader (but apologizes!), the boys aren’t exactly good boys until the end

— a/n: here’s another one hehe

"Are you alright?"

Namjoon grunts with a nod as he proceeds to scribble things down onto the papers in front of him. "Yeah, don't worry about it." His reply is curt, emotionless, with brows that furrows as he refuses to look up when you've walked into his office.

"Perhaps you should take a break," you suggest but the mafia boss only deepens his brows even more.

"I have no time for a break. The newbies have already gotten on my nerves for being stupid and clueless so please, if you could just leave."

You let out a small sigh at his response but understand the stress and pressure is getting to him so you don't blame Namjoon for being short with you. "I'll go but," your brows knits together, "please remember to rest when you can. I'm worried."

There is only a low grunt in response so you place the cup of tea on his desk, careful not to put it near a place where he can accidentally move it and spill the drink. You aren't sure if he sees you doing this, eyes too focused on the things in front of him, so you take out a little post it note and scribble a few words before leaving him be with a quick kiss to his head.

You hope your little treat can help him.

When you leave Namjoon's office, it seems not only is the big boss short and upset today but also the rest of your boyfriends.

They're off for whatever reasons even as you take some time to visit them, realizing you staying with them isn't helping much of the situation so you opt with stirring up some tea (and coffee for the ones who prefer them) and leave little notes of encouragement and love to let them know that you're here for whenever they need it.

It's a little dejecting knowing they wouldn't like to have you around during their stressful times because most times they'll come seeking for your attention, wanting you to hold them, to whisper soft words, to let you and only you see their pouty and true sides of when they aren't being all big and bad for the gang. And if they won't come fetching for you, you'd go to them and things would be less stressful on their ends.

But today isn't a good day.

It isn't good at all.

So you let them have their space, knowing they need it most, and support them from afar with a soft smile and a whisper of "I'm here if you need it."

Even as you find Jungkook in the training room holding a gun and missing almost every time.

He never misses.

Never.

So during the times he does, he throws a fit, slamming the gun down hard onto the cold surface of the floor with a frustrated grunt and allowing it to break into tiny pieces.

You jump at the sudden action, brows knitted with worry. "Jung–"

"God!" He shouts and punches the wall. Your heart breaks at the sight and when he turns at your presence, it hurts you even more seeing how angry he is. "Just leave, will you?"

"You're hurt–"

"Just go!" He demands and you stand there, frozen, because it's the first time he's ever yelled at you. You know Jungkook, he hates shouting at the people he loves because he knows he will regret it later on and he's once told you despite how much he does it to the members of the gang, that he'd never raise his voice at you.

So this surprises you.

And also hurts you.

But you know he isn't in his right mind. He's just angry and annoyed and frustrated. This isn't the Jungkook you know so you take a step back, though slightly afraid because you had just gotten yelled at, and try to steady your breathing. "I'm sorry," you tell him. You aren't sure what exactly you're apologizing for but it feels right. You made him even more angry after all. "I-I'm here for you, alright? Just remember that."

He doesn't say a thing and only turns his back to you. Though it breaks your heart, you know this isn't the Jungkook you know. So you turn around and walk out the door.

Coming back a few minutes later with a herbal tea, some ointment and bandages for his hand, and a little note as quietly as you can.

Though maybe you didn't need to do that because either way, whether he knows you're there or not, Jungkook doesn't acknowledge your presence.

The days passes on. No messages, no visits, no frantically looking for you as they usually do.

You sit in the library, reading, though your mind can't come to comprehend anything you've read because the only thing you're stuck on is worrying about your boys.

They aren't in the right state of mind but you aren't sure how to help so you end up just overthinking everything until eventually your mind gets too tired and your body curls up into a little ball, book hugging against your chest, and your eyes falls shut.

It's only until hours later do they finally find the cup of (now cold) coffee and tea and the little post it notes you've given them all to try and make things better.

"I love you," Taehyung stares at the little heart you drew, "please remember to love and take care of yourself as well! I hate seeing you so stressed." There is a sad little face at the end that tugs at his heart and his eyes look on over at the cup of chamomile tea you've brewed for him.

"God, I've messed up," the man groans as he leans back into his chair and puts his forearm over his eyes.

When Jimin walks into the training room, Jungkook's lying flat on the blue mat shirtless as he stares up at the ceiling, breathing ragged and hard from the continuous training he's forced himself to have.

"Kook," the older one calls as he spots your little gift for Jungkook on a barstool, "Y/N made some–wait, why did she put some ointment and a roll of bandages for you? What the hell did you do?"

He's quick to run over to the younger man and rest his legs on either side of him, sitting right on top of his stomach and letting Jungkook give out a soft "oomph" at the sudden action.

"What the hell, hyung?"

He's still irritated.

"Did you see what Y/N left you?" Jimin asks as he scans the younger one's body to see what exactly made you leave the medicine for him. "I was short with her today but babygirl still made me coffee and left me a little note of encouragement. She–ah, there it is." He sighs at the sight of the maknae's red knuckles and looks back at him with a disapproving stare. "Did you get angry and smash a wall again?"

Jungkook grunts as he moves, forcing his hyung to get off him. "Whatever. Why does it matter anyway?" He sits up and grabs his black shirt from the floor to put it back on as he heads over to the barstool. Eyeing the three things, Jungkook sighs as he takes the ointment to apply it on himself, ignoring the tea that's obviously cold at this point without caring to read the post it note.

"We're about to go home soon," Jimin tells him. "You know where Y/N is?"

"She hasn't gone home?"

"She'll usually text us if she does. Plus you know she isn't allowed to leave by herself."

He rolls his eyes and finishes wrapping the bandage around his hand before taking a moment to read whatever you had to say.

"Hey Kook, I know you aren't exactly yourself at the moment but that's alright, I know you never meant to yell at me."

Crap. He yelled at you.

"It's okay to let it out once in a while, you're human after all. It doesn't matter what anyone else says, you'll always be my sweet Jungkook who never forgets to shower me with love. Don't beat yourself up too much, alright? I love you and will always, always be proud of you no matter what."

"What'd she say?" Jimin asks a few seconds later when Jungkook seems to just be staring at the note for the longest time.

"I yelled at her, hyung," he whispers.

"What?"

"I yelled at our babygirl," he repeats a little louder. "Crap I...I yelled at her when she was just trying to help and-"

"Yeah, I'm not exactly proud of what I did today either."

"We have to find her." He's quick to jump back onto his feet. "God I'm such an idiot."

"Where's Y/N?" Seokjin asks the younger ones minutes later when they find each other in the hall.

Jimin's brows furrow. "You mean she wasn't with you?"

The oldest cringes. "I wasn't exactly...kind to her today."

"You're saying we all messed up today?" Yoongi asks as he emerges from the other end of the hall with Namjoon, Taehyung, and Hoseok right behind him.

"You're saying we all made her feel worthless today?" Jimin raises a brow and Jungkook utters a curse under his breath.

"I yelled at our babygirl."

"Come on," Hoseok urges with a sigh, "let's go find her to make things right again."

It took a while.

A few minutes before someone ended up telling them they'd seen you walk into the library and the big bosses were quick to rush in, shouting for your name.

Only to immediately fall silent when they find your sleeping on an armchair with a book held closely to your chest. Your breathing is long and deep, chest rising and falling in a steady beat and their hearts fall at how innocent you look because they've literally done wrong all of today. Yet despite it all, the post it notes held in their hands and kept in their pockets are nothing but sweet words and reminders that you love them still and wish for them to take care of themselves.

They did you wrong yet you never grew angry at them for it, only more worried and concerned and it breaks their hearts knowing this.

Jungkook falls to his knees in front of you, brows knitting with guilt as he strokes your cheek. "Babygirl," he whispers softly and hesitantly. "Babygirl? Can you wake up, sweetheart?"

You could hardly believe the softness in his tone after being yelled at, almost forgetting about what had happened today until you're blinking awake to find the man staring at you with eyes filled with regret.

"..Kook...?" You call in a croaky tone, still adjusting to waking up.

"Oh babygirl," he sighs and wraps his arms around your waist and place his head down against your lap. "I'm so, so sorry, my love. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. I was so wrong to yell at you when you had only wanted to help."

"We were all wrong today," Namjoon says as he purses his lips. "You were only trying to help and we shut you out."

"Hey..." you shake your head slowly, eyes still sleepy with a lethargic smile. "It's okay..you weren't yourselves today."

"That's not a valid excuse," Hoseok frowns.

"We were wrong. We shouldn't have shut you out," Taehyung agrees.

"You always manage to make things better," Yoongi says as he takes your hand. "We should have leaned on you instead of lashing out and making you feel worthless."

"It's okay, I promise you," you assure him with a light squeeze of his hand.

"You may have forgiven us but we aren't going to forgive ourselves that easily," Jimin vows and the maknae looks up, nodding.

You catch the small trail of tears brimming along his eyes and your heart softens. "Oh Jungkook, please don't cry."

"But I yelled at you and I promised that I wouldn't but I did." He squeezes you tightly. "You didn't deserve that."

"I understand you, I promise."

"It's not fair," the man pouts, "why are you so forgiving? We don't deserve this."

"You should be angry at us instead," Seokjin agrees.

Yet you shake your head again. "It's okay, I promise. But, are you alright now? Do you wish to talk about it? I'm here to listen, I promise I–"

"We'll deal with it babygirl," Namjoon tells you. "We'll deal with it rationally this time without letting the frustration blind us again."

You giggle and it makes them relieved to hear such beautiful music ringing in their ears. "Are we going home now?" You ask and Jungkook's quick to get up.

But he doesn't let you go, only opening his arms to invite you in. "Let's go home," he says and you let him easily pick you up. "But," the man pauses before he can proceed to walk out the doors. His gaze is serious as he stares at you and give you a kiss on your lips. "This doesn't mean we're done with apologizing, alright?"

You giggle again. "Alright then," you allow, "I guess I deserve that today, hm?"

"More than anything."

[sapphicwhxre]

nemesis

♥︎ pairing: pansy parkinson x fem!reader, past draco malfoy x reader and draco malfoy x pansy parkinson

♥︎ summary: you reconnect with the girl that draco malfoy cheated on you with at hogwarts, and realise you have more in common than you thought ─ including the belief that the other knew they were the other girl.

♥︎ warnings: past cheating, asshole draco, arguing, use of the word slut, swearing, slut shaming, bar/alcohol, enemies to lovers

♥︎ a/n: we’re acknowledging that the title isn’t nemesis it’s nemesis but how taylor swift says it in long story short 💅🏼 also just yay ‘cause idk if anyone remembers since i shitpost so often but i’ve wanted to write this forever and i finally did it!!

you have got to be fucking kidding me.

that was your first thought when you saw her.

today was horrible. troubles everywhere you went and you thought you’d be safe in your favourite coffee shop. well, you were wrong. in line, there stood pansy parkinson, the slytherin princess herself.

pretty, put together, pansy fucking parkinson. the girl your highschool love ─ or so you’d thought ─ had cheated on you with for a year. you were over draco, truly, and hoped he’d matured after the war but to see the reason for all his lies to you left a stinging, bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d finish your coffee and be on your way, simple. there was no reason to acknowledge her or remember the smug look on her face as she kissed him, on one of the many days he stood you up. why torture yourself by remembering the glint of happiness in his eyes turning into one of panic when he saw you watching? you hadn’t cried that hard in years and weren’t planning on it. not over a stupid high school nemesis, you're better than that.

downing the hot liquid as fast as you could, you gathered your things and walked straight for the exit, not daring to glance at her. almost there, just a few more steps. but of course, the universe could never let you catch a break. the ladies’ restroom door flew open only an inch away from you and you were now face to face with pansy parkinson. shit.

as if in shock or relaying every dirty memory about the other, you stood in silence for a moment. “i didn’t know you lived around here,” pansy finally broke the ice. she swallowed after unleashing her hissing tone on you, visibly thinking hard about merlin knows what. “away from it all, i mean.”

nodding, you forced out a smile, determined not to return her clear irritation at seeing you. maybe it was childish to hold onto the past. “i do,” you agreed. “i’m more surprised that hogwarts’s resident pureblood princess is living in the muggle world, especially going to places like a cheap, shitty coffee shop.” pent up venom hit the both of you and you instantly regretted what you’d said, ruining the civil demeanor you’d hoped to keep.

the pursed-lipped scowl you’d grown so used to seeing in the halls during your school years met you and pansy crossed her arms, standing up tall. “things change, l/n,” she spat, omitting any details she’d considered giving away. “what about you? you’re here too, couldn’t find another girl’s boyfriend to sleep with?”

here you were just like old times, bickering and hissing petty insults at the other. you narrowed your eyes and scoffed, “isn’t that your area of expertise, parkinson? being so pretty and perfect that you just can’t help going and wrecking a good relationship?”

pansy looked deeply unsettled and upset. she raised her voice so much that any louder and she’d be causing a scene. “what are you on about?” pansy all but yelled. “you were the side chick! draco loved me until you went and started to spread your legs for him!”

you blinked at her, processing her words. there was no way, no way that she thought you were the other girl. she was the slut that fucked everything up, not you.

then it hit you. neither of you were to blame. “fucking draco malfoy.” you sighed, de-escalating suddenly. your eyes flickered up to pansy’s apologetically. “he lied to both of us, didn’t he?”

pansy stared at you blanky before responding, much more softly than before. “you... you mean you didn’t know he was seeing me?” she asked, curiously. you shook your head no and pansy quieted for a moment. “i didn’t know about you either, l/n, honest,” pansy said.

maybe it was the tender sincerity you hadn’t known she was capable of but without knowing what came over you, you sat down at the table beside you and gestured an invitation. “do you maybe want to talk? try to put this behind us?” eyes widening, pansy didn’t answer. she did, however, take a hesitant seat across from you and gaze at you oddly.

“the things i said were awfully petty, uncivilized, and immature. i'm sorry,” you hurried out an apology and added, “today and when we were in school.” something about the situation filled you with so much. anger that you’d blamed the girl who was a victim just like you instead of the abuser. sympathy and sadness for how she was feeling since you’d spent so many nights with your face buried in your pillow and feeling the exact same thing.

pansy smiled surprisingly warmly and exhaled deeply. “i’m...” she seemed to struggle with finding the right words. “i’m sorry too. all this time, i never even stopped to consider that you were hurt too.” you felt the same way, all of the hatred you had for pansy parkinson melting away. she was just a girl who, like you, trusted the wrong boy. no one deserved to be punished for that. yet you’d inflicted your hurt on the other for years. “draco’s a fucking dick.”

slightly caught off guard by her shift in demeanor, you laughed ─ to her surprise. “yeah, draco is a fucking dick. there’s a bar just a few blocks from here, care to let me buy you a drink?” you proposed. “it’s the least i can do after thinking you were a homewrecker for the past almost decade.”

“it’s only noon,” she objected and you raised your eyebrows. pansy looked to her lap, allowing herself a laugh that sounded dangerously close to a pleased giggle. “i’d like that.” you helped her with her things and for an unapparent reason, you noticed that her nose crinkled when she laughed and couldn’t help but think she looked awfully pretty. for the first time, you noticed pansy's beauty in a kind way, not one filled with jealousy.

on the way to and eventually inside of the bar, you and pansy conversed shockingly easily. you found many things in common. you had the same favourite hobbies, made fun of the lines that draco had disgustingly used on the both of you, and even ordered the same drink. you and pansy acted as if you’d always been best friends. you clicked so well that it was hard to believe you’d ever hated each other.

“y/n, you’re kidding, that was you?” pansy snorted with laughter, on the edge of her seat at one of your stories you were sharing. the use of your first name sounded like honey on her tongue and the feeling in your chest told you it was something you could get used to. “blaise and i were laughing for weeks, how on earth did you manage to not get caught?” she propped up on her elbows and listened intently.

“it’s a secret, pansy,” you rolled your eyes playfully, fondly recalling the memory you’d shared of you and hermione accidentally filling dumbledore’s study with bubbles that dyed anything they touched. you hadn’t followed the witch’s instructions and absolutely refused to let her turn you two in. who knew it’d make for a great conversation piece all these years later?

“oh, you’ll tell me one day,” she sighed. one day. you had to say, despite having butted heads at the beginning of your encounter... you got along incredibly with pansy. you could genuinely say that you were elated to hear her say ‘one day’ as if it was fact that you’d see each other again.

laughter dying down, you grinned at pansy and took her hand. the back of your mind told you that you’d only been friends for a few hours and that physical affection should be off the table. but something about pansy made the unfamiliarity not matter.

“i never thought i’d find you so wonderful,” you admitted. “makes me think we should have dated each other instead of that blonde ferret prat back in hogwarts.”

pansy didn’t laugh at your half-joke, instead taking the hand you’d extended in both of hers. “we could always start now, since said blonde is out of the picture.” briefly taken aback by her boldness, you returned her glossed smirk and felt a flutter in your chest. you turned and sprawled your number out on a nearby napkin, handing it to her.

“i do have to get going. but it’s a date then, parkinson.”

“i’ll see you then, l/n.”

and in the fateful turn of events you never would have expected at the start of that already terrible day, you found yourself unbelievably excited to see pansy again.

•──♥︎

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

how do you think edward would react if he was in the same truck-baseball game time loop bella was in (either if bella was in it or wasn't, whatever you prefer)

For reference, that one time Bella's stuck in a time loop.

Are we asking to make Edward even crazier than usual? Well, that will surely go... interesting places. Let's do it.

Edward In the Loop With Bella

Loop One

There Edward is, facing off with James, Victoria, and Laurent, gearing up for the fight of his life as he realizes exactly what it is James wants and is planning and then...

Then he blinks, he's in the parking lot, Bella's about to be hit by a van.

Edward panics, desperately saves her life, and has no idea what's happening. Did he... hallucinate those months? Were those his lovesick dreams of having Bella for himself?

Of course they were, he says as he drives to the hospital in Bella's car, sobbing as he listens to George Michael's Careless Whisper. For Bella, this bright, beautiful, angelic girl, could never love a beast such as him. He desperately tries to put his love for Bella out of his mind, for it can never be, what they had was a dream and nothing more.

BEEEEEELLLLLLLAAAAAA!

Bella ruins this noble, romantic, tragedy in two seconds when Edward enters the hospital and goes, "You're not going to believe me, but I'm from the fuuuuuuutuuuuuuure!"

Well, Edward doesn't actually like that, makes all of this a little anticlimactic. He questions her extensively, tries to convince her that she's just hallucinating, she hit her head pretty hard, but eventually gives up. Their memories seem to match up exactly, he and Bella are actually from the future.

Edward's not even sure why he's disappointed himself, yet, somehow he is.

He goes home and gets to be the one to tell the Cullens it's all fine, he's from the future, Bella is too, they're not going to kill her because Edward's in love with her, can we skip this?

The Cullens stare, Alice really doesn't know how she feels about this, but we get a similar reaction to canon. Where Carlisle says, "Alright then... I guess this means no moving."

Edward sighs, for the first time, he doesn't really feel like going to Bella's that night. He instead sits at the piano, playing Chop Sticks, wondering why he feels so despondent.

Bella loves him, he loves Bella, they're dating, he has everything he ever wanted. Why isn't he happy?

He gets to school and Bella's very clingy and seems to want to pick off exactly where they left off. She wants Edward to sit with her at lunch, she's talking about visiting the Cullens as soon as possible, she wants to go on a real date.

And Edward realizes that he doesn't have to battle with himself to stay away from Bella anymore, he's done that. He doesn't have to rescue her in Port Angeles, Bella's not going. He's not taking her to the meadow, he's done that too.

Edward's been there and done that for all of this. This isn't even a chance to redo his mistakes, if he'd really made any, because all the things he'd want to do again involve Bella who came back with him.

Edward throws himself into dating Bella, trying to shake himself loose from this strange sense of apathy. Bella doesn't even seem to notice the difference in him, something in Edward... grows a little cold.

He finds himself to returning to his plans of how best to nobly leave her. Something he always acknowledged he would do, but before looked at with reluctance. Now he actively schemes when and how it should occur.

He should wait until summer, that will be easiest on the family for the pretext of "moving", and that way he can go to Prom with Bella. She'll get over him quickly, move on with her human life, while Edward watches her from the shadows.

Bella finally starts to notice that Edward is... distant. She tries to confront him, ask what she's doing wrong, and desperately throws herself into the relationship. That just makes it worse for Edward.

The pair start fighting, Edward insists Bella does not come to the baseball game, and just then they loop again.

Loop Two

Edward's back in the parking lot, Bella's about to be hit by a van. Edward once again heroically saves her, but he feels as if he's going through the motions.

In the hospital room, neither Bella nor Edward say a word to one another, both realize exactly what has happened. After a moment of silence, Edward suggests that, perhaps, what they need is distance.

Just a few weeks apart.

Bella says nothing.

Edward consults Alice, telling her what's been happening to him, and Alice tells him that as far as she can tell nothing is wrong with time itself. Her visions work as usual, it's just that Edward and Bella's decisions have changed.

Though, not the outcomes, Alice confirms that either Bella will become a vampire or she'll die. Alice suggests, hesitantly, that if this keeps happening perhaps Bella has to be a vampire to stop this.

Perhaps that's why Alice only sees two futures. Because any future where Bella remains human, they loop.

Edward refuses to accept this in a rage. This, this cannot happen, he will loop for all eternity rather than turn Bella! HE IS NOT A TOY OF FATE!

There's a fire in Edward now, he returns through Bella's bedroom window, and restarts their passionate romance. Bella's thrilled, the love of her life has come back for her, she cries tears of joy.

For months, Bella and Edward are back in the honeymoon stage of their romance.

They loop again.

Loop Three

Bella points out that they're still looping. This is... starting to get weird. Maybe they should figure out solutions to this?

Edward says THIS IS FINE, with Alice's words ringing in the back of his mind. Bella can never know.

Too bad for him, this is Bella's first guess. Maybe, if she becomes a vampire, somehow the loops will stop. EDWARD WILL NEVER TARNISH HER LIKE THAT.

Bella is very hurt, and upset, and asks if Edward will seriously spend forever, trapped in these few months, unable to move forward rather than turn her.

Edward desperately tries to convince her that these months are wonderful. You love being trapped in this timeframe, Bella.

He romances her harder than ever, only this time, Bella's the one that's not thrilled.

She and Edward have no future. Edward would literally rather be trapped in this utterly absurd scenario, never able to move forward with their lives, rather than turn her into a vampire.

A lot of fights happen. In desperation, Edward proves that they can move forward, that this endless loop is what vampirism itself is like, where time ceases to have meaning. He proposes to Bella, they will marry.

Bella flat out says no, she doesn't want to marry, and god marry while she's still in highschool? Can she even legally get married right now?

Edward... did not expect that answer.

The pair end up on and off fighting up until the loop happens.

Loop Four

This time, distracted by his own ire, Edward forgets to stop the van. Bella is crushed, Edward and the family have to hightail it out of there to not slurp her blood off the asphalt, and Edward is horrified.

He... murdered Bella. She's dead, because he allowed petty arguments to distract him. Oh god.

To his horror, the loop keeps going, and he lives in terror that it will proceed past the baseball game. What if Bella's dead forever? What if, rather than turn her, the only other way out of the loop was her death?

Edward's an utter mess, clawing at the walls, and the family doesn't understand at all because Bella Swan is simply a girl who had a tragic death.

To Edward's horrified relief, he loops.

Loop N

Bella remembers Edward failed to save him. She does not blame him for it, but Edward certainly blames himself and there's now... a wall between them that wasn't there.

Nonetheless, they try again. This time, they'll go back to the basics.

Edward eats her in the meadow.

They loop.

Edward keeps accidentally eating her.

It's horrible and then he realizes... it doesn't matter. It never lasts, he's a monster yes, but he always was one. It seems he's doomed to eat Bella Swan. And at least he knows she'll be here tomorrow.

And if he's damned anyway then he might as well enjoy it.

He starts eating her on purpose.

Soon, they get a little routine down.

Bella nearly gets hit by a van, Edward saves her life, they go to the hospital, Edward drags her into a closet, eats her, then throws her corpse out the window and tells Carlisle she committed suicide.

Such a tragic end.

Bella starts desperately trying to save herself, but it's all over so quick, now her life is endlessly getting eaten by Edward.

Given this loop seems to be infinitely long, and thus all remote possibilities will eventually occur, there will be a timeline where Edward accidentally turns Bella into a vampire.

However, Edward can't do math, so he hasn't figured that out yet.

In the meantime, now that he's let go of all morality, he's having a great time.

... And it's probably best we leave Edward looping on his own for another post. That got long.

[theinariakuma]

First One to Know

Rated: SFW (Rated T for language, mentions of mensural cycle, and Pregnancy symptoms)

Obey Me!

Polyship! Female MC

Includes: Datables, Diavolo, and Simeon

This is based off the idea of how Female MC would tell each boy she was pregnant. They’re all the ”first to know” concept. 

For precaution. All under the cut. 

Lucifer:

She sat in the bath, huffing a bit before she sank her chin under the water. How does one tell Lucifer they're pregnant. 

Lucifer was this... All powerful, all important person. While, yes, she could just tell him. It felt like she needed to do something else.

She had plans for everyone but him and Belphegor. They were the two more difficult brothers. 

Part of her wanted to bring Diavolo into the planning to tell him, but she knew it would likely end up as a few things. A party, a big thing... And she didn't want anyone but Lucifer to know first.

"One of your daddies is going to drive me crazy." She spoke in a quiet time, fingers brushing over her stomach, it was far too early for anything beyond knowing there was a baby, but talking to them comforted her. "He's impossible to surprise."

With her luck, he'd know before her anyways. 

So, she kept planning. Each idea fell flat in her mind. She'd been more focused on how to surprise Lucifer that she only half paid attention at RAD. 

"Long day?" Lucifer often walked her home, just like cooking was Beel's time and Naps were Belphie's. The walk home belonged to Lucifer. He'd made a claim to it early in the start of the relationship. 

"Mm something like that." She moved her arms around his neck, giving him a slow, happy kiss. 

His hands drifted to her hips, gently holding her as he returned the kiss. The affection she showered him and his brothers with often caused them to relax. Years of pent up tension lovingly eased away by her. 

It wasn't until half way home she noticed how his hand would occasionally drift up to her belly. She'd found herself unconsciously doing the same since she found out. 

"You know!" She turned to look at him. Eyes narrowed as she pointed in his face.

The smirk on his face and the light joy in his gaze said everything. 

"You knew! And I was going crazy trying to think of how to tell you!" She glared at him, but Lucifer just laughed. 

"You didn't hide the test as well as you thought. Asmo saw the box." 

Her cheeks went red and she began walking faster. Despite her annoyance, hearing his laughter made her smile. He was happy about the news. 

Mammon:

She sat on the edge of her bed, fingers pulling and smoothing her skirt down. 

"Alright, what's on ya mind? You keep doing that..." His hands began moving in a ringing motion, the way she was abusing the fabric of her skirt. 

"I'm trying to think of how to tell you. You're... Well. I wanted you to know first. You were my first man after all..." The soft memory made a smile appear on her face. 

Mammon quickly shut up as his cheeks began glowing red at the words. "Y-You bet your ass I am..." He muttered, eyes looking away. 

"I... Well." She bit into her lower lip. "I'm pregnant."

Out of everything Mammon expected, that was the last thing he could have thought of. It did make sense. She was being shared by seven powerful demons. It wasn't too surprising that her birth control failed... 

Mammon was hesitant, his fingers as gentle as possible, cupping her cheeks. "Say that again..." He was terrified. He was greedy and selfish, but oh how he wanted this. Wanted to be a dad, even if he didn't feel like he deserved to be one. 

"I'm pregnant... You and the others are gonna be dads... And you're the first to kno--oh!" Mammon kissed her deeply, his fingers cradling her face as he cut her off, kissing her slowly, deeply. She couldn't see them yet, but the man was crying, he was so happy. She made him so happy and made him feel so loved.

Leviathan:

Fingers stroked the back of the girl laying against him. Her face tucked into his neck as she quietly dozed off. She'd lost interest in the anime about two episodes ago. Not that Levi blamed her, it was boring, but he was always one to finish a series... Well at least the season, no matter how dull or trash it was. 

It was nice just being able to hold her.

His attention kept drifting to her, the woman was half curled up in his lap, her arms loosely wrapped around him, her breathing soft against his neck. 

"Oi, Levi. You got more shit from Akuzon." Mammon didn't even bother knocking as he brought in the package. 

"I didn't order anything." Levi's brow furrowed as he held his hand out. Mammon almost scoffed, but he wouldn't make him move. The dozing girl against him looked so peaceful. 

"What is it then?" Mammon, being the jealousy boy he was, did not leave, much to Levi's annoyance. Today was his day with her.

Levi began opening the box, only to pause at the items. A box that held a smaller version of his game controller, some other miniatures, and a plastic sealed shirt. The invoice settled in the package told him that it indeed was not his order, but the girl in his arms. 

"Why do you need a tiny controller?" Mammon asked, confused as he saw Levi looking at the box. There were more miniature size items inside the box that only furthered his confusion.

The soft giggles against his neck made Levi arch a brow. "I see you're awake. Want to explain?" 

"Look at the shirt." She smiled and nuzzled into him after waving to Mammon. 

Pulling up the white shirt wrapped in plastic, he saw the logo clear as day. 

Black clouded his vision, the last thing he remembered was hearing the two cry out at him.

"Oh my god, Levi!"

"The fuck, man!"

The woman held her hands over her mouth, not expecting that reaction.

"He fainted." Her voice turned to soft giggles, "Only you Levi." She moved to gently lift his head, pulling him to lean into her, stroking his hair. Her poor nervous Otaku couldn’t handle the news.

Mammon got a glimpse at the shirt before shaking his head. "Course Levi would pass out over news like this." Part of him was both annoyed and amused. “I’m gonna tell everyone.” The grin appeared on his face as he snapped a picture to send to the group chat. 

"Yeah. He would. He's so nervous like that." She chuckled, watching Mammon hold up the "Baby download in progress" shirt she bought to send a picture to it to the rest of the guys. 

"I'm glad. Ya know, to be here. Even though ya probably meant to do it alone with him." Her cheek leaned into Mammon's touch, the Avatar of Greed moved to stroke her cheek as he crouched down next to her, staying with her as she stroked Levi's hair, waiting on him to wake up from his unconscious state.

Satan:

Satan felt his temple pulse as he was growing steadily more annoyed and angry. 

Three times today alone she's avoided him. He was growing to detest sharing her with his siblings if this was how she was going to act. 

He loved the woman, she was his kitten, sweet and loving. Yet the past week or so she'd been acting off. That off act had soon turned to her avoiding him and he wanted to fucking know why. 

His eyes narrowed a bit as he glimpsed her and Lucifer talking. 

Somehow, some way. This was Lucifer's fault. 

He'd rather blame Lucifer then believe that she was willingly avoiding him. So he waited until she left off to who knows where again to go to Lucifer's study.

"What did you say to her that is making her avoid me?" The dark aura coming off the blond was dense, his wrath was dense and when Lucifer looked up from his desk he was surprised that the blond wasn't in his demon form with that much anger. 

"I haven't said anything, Satan." His eyes narrowed. Their little human and he had been working on a contract for her to allow her to stay as a contracted ambassador for Diavolo for the Human world... So she could stay. 

The past week she'd been insistent about getting this done as soon as possible. 

"You're lying!" That was all it took before his tail whipped out, lashing at the desk separating them once his demon form came out. Breathing heavy as the desk and all of its paperwork went everywhere. 

"She won't even look at me! She avoids me! And you're the only one who would tell her anything!"

The crash had startled her, she'd gone to grab some tea for her and Lucifer. 

A while ago she'd noticed she'd missed her period. For her it wasn't too unusual for it to be a little late, however when one week turned to three. She began worrying. 

Earlier in the week, she'd taken a pregnancy test and well... It came back positive. All of them did, actually. 

Anxiety had filled her to the point she started avoiding Satan because he could read her like an open book... And well, she was scared. What if he wasn't happy? What if the others weren't happy?

She wanted Satan to be the first to know out of the brothers. He'd quickly become someone she could always rely on and he was almost as patient as Asmo and Mammon with her--despite their quirks.

However, her stress began raising as she realized she was two months off from the end of the exchange program. She wanted everything to be settled for her to stay... She didn't want to stress any of them out more than what the first bit of news would do. 

The last thing she wanted was someone yelling at Diavolo And putting Lucifer in a bad place stuck between her, his brothers, and his loyalty to Diavolo. 

"Satan, stop!" She saw him pinning Lucifer up to the bookshelf, hissing low as his tail whipped around. 

She didn't dare go further in. Satan would never intentionally harm her, but she didn't want to risk it accidentally. 

"Why should I?" Blonde hair and vivid green eyes turned to her, pain and fury in his gaze. "Since you'd rather abandon me for him anyways! You've done nothing but avoid me! Something is wrong with you and you refuse to tell me!"

"Satan, you need to calm--"

"Oh, shut up, Lucifer!" His anger diverted back towards his elder brother. Surprisingly, Lucifer was not fighting back against his assault.

"Because I'm pregnant!"

Both demons were looking at her now, Satan's hands slipping from where they were once clenched in Lucifer's shirt. 

"What?" The breathless tone. Neither demon suddenly knowing what to do.

"I found out earlier this week. I wasn't avoiding you because I was upset at you. I was avoiding you because I was scared because I knew you'd ask what's wrong. I knew I never could... Never would  want to lie to you or the others... I needed to figure things out."

"That's why you've been so insistent about getting this contract done quickly." Lucifer's voice was just as awed and breathless. 

All seven of the brothers shared her. And a baby... Her getting pregnant was really the last thing any of them thought of. 

"I was going to finish this... Then tell you."

Satan's demon form almost melted away, hesitating as he went to her, fingers moving to cradle her face. "Tell me?"

"I was going to tell you first... Then the others... But I needed to be sure I could stay first. That... Diavolo wouldn't have to send me home. That you guys wouldn't put Lucifer in a bad spot... That he wouldn't be stuck in a bad spot, between his duty to Diavolo and me and you guys..." Tears were rolling down her cheeks. 

"You silly, amazing, foolish, stubborn human." His forehead pressed to hers, his shoulders beginning to tremble as a sob left him. 

Satan hadn't expected that. He didn't expect her to try and take on so much to give him such peace of mine. 

Lucifer didn't approach yet, he'd talk to her...let his own emotions out later. Right now, this was between her and Satan. 

"I'm going to be a dad." 

"You all are." She closed her eyes. "You all are fathers. And the first time I hear any of you arguing over who's the blood father of the baby, I'm going to be mad."

Arms pulled her close, awe was still flooding him, unsure of what to say or what to do... Just knowing that he loved her so much. 

"I'm sorry, Lucifer." His voice was low and it was only then that he approached the two. 

"It's alright, Satan. I understand why... Our little human tends to drive us all a bit crazy and quick to act without thinking." Lucifer moved to press a kiss to her knuckles, not pulling either out of their embrace. "You need your rest now. You can tell the others later, but right now, you need your rest. When I sort out..." Lucifer sighed as he looked to the destroyed desk, "That. I'll bring the paperwork to you and I'll contact Diavolo. We're not letting you leave.. I refuse to let you go as much as Satan and the others will."

Satan began gently ushering her out the door, energy zapped after such a cold splash of reality diffusing his anger. They'd both get some rest... He wasn't going to let her leave his arms for a while.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus was nothing if not perceptive. While he did not always show it, he did make sure to always pay attention. So when his little darling was a bit easier to excite than usual, he noticed. 

Eyes softened as he saw her. Out of all the brothers, Asmo was the softest with her. He liked the soft touches, forehead kisses and hair stroking, things that were intimate but not so much sexual. 

He loved sex, he would never deny that, but him offing intimate affection outside of sex was both something he did for just anyone. 

"What's in the bag? Did you go shopping without me?" Lips moved into a pout at his darling as she just laughed and gave him a soft kiss. 

"I promise you'll like this gift and be less annoyed and pouty after you see it."

"I don't like when you shop without me." He huffed a bit, pulling her into the bed with him. She just laughed and snuggled back against him, letting him fuss with the sealed gift bag for a moment. 

Despite his general nature of liking to surprise people, Asmodeus hated surprises. 

Yet, when he tugged the tissue out of the bag and pulled out what he thought was a T shirt, his heart stopped. 

A soft pink onesie. It was tiny, made for a newborn sized infant. On it was careful handwriting stating, 'Of course I'm cute, look at my Daddy.'

"You..." Words, for once, escaped him. 

A squeak left the woman as she found herself pinned under the Avatar of Lust, kisses peppering all over her face. 

"You beautiful, amazing woman... I can't.." he was choked up, unable to form proper sentences as he pressed soft kisses over every inch of her face, the final one ending at her lips, drawing her into a slow, lingering kiss.

He never knew such happiness before.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub loved cooking for his little human. His two greatest joys next to spending time with his brothers. It was a routine between them. On their days to cooks, they spent time together. He may have had to share her, but he would claim these moments happily and selfishly. 

However, recently he noticed how her face would go pale and she'd rush off. The smell of his cooking bad been making her sick. 

"I'm okay, I promise." Her words were soft, but he knew she wasn't feeling the best after getting sick. 

When it became a consistent issue, he began truly worrying. Not only was his sweet human sick but his cooking caused it. Had his his cooking gotten as bad as Solomon's?

"Are you sick? Do I need to get a doctor? Let me get Lucifer!"

"Beel, baby. I'm okay."

"You can't keep food down... Is my cooking bad?"

"Oh Beel, baby... No." Her hands reached up to touch his cheeks, he leaned down so she could touch him easier.  "This isn't your fault. I suspected it, but I didn't know until this morning." 

His eyes were lit up with confusion. Didn’t know what?

"I'm having a baby, Beel. You guys are going to be dads."

The awe on his face before he swept her up into his arms, laughing and nuzzling into her Affectionately making her laugh. He was both relieved and excited.

Belphegor:

Belphegor was currently snuggled up to his precious human. Despite being probably the laziest of the brothers, he was also one of the smartest. It was why he got along with Satan so much and why he also clashed with Lucifer... Well that and several reasons. 

He'd noticed it very quickly, probably before she did. She was usually full of life and energy. However the past couple of weeks she'd been exhausted, not quite to his level of sleep, but enough that people were worried. 

However, pressed into her for their naps, he noticed several things, her temperature was not up, so no fever. And areas of her body were more sensitive. 

"Come on. It's dinner time."  He nudged her after Beel texted him. "We can come back upstairs after eating. I know you're tired."

She almost whined in protest, "I'm not really hungry. My stomach has been pretty upset when I eat." She thought maybe it was just her period about to start. 

Belphie sat up and gazed at her, "Are you pregnant?"

Her lips parted before shutting again. A thoughtful look on her face. "What day is it today?" 

Arching a brow, "The tenth." 

He watched her face for a few more moments before looking at him, "I... Maybe?" She hesitated. She hadn't even thought about it. "I am late this month. I thought maybe it was stress? It wouldn’t have been the first time I was late because I was stressed out." 

Belphie sighed and drew her up into his arms, causing her to snuggle into him more. 

"Can we... Go after dinner to pick up a test? I don't wanna say anything to the others until we're sure." She snuggled against him, her mind warming with exhaustion again. She just wanted to stay here and go back to sleep.

"Yeah, of course." He dropped a kiss to her brow. "Any idea who the father would be?"

The question earned a smack to his chest. 

"What?" He saw her annoyed glare. 

"All of you. And if you ask that again, I'm going to yank your tail next time." Despite her annoyance, it made him smile to see her so protective of everyone, calling them all the fathers.

"Alright. You're right." He sighed and moved to get up, pulling her along. "Food then the run to the shop.... If it is, can we tell Lucifer last?" 

She rolled her eyes, taking the lead as she tugged him by his hand. 

Later that evening, when the three little tests all came back positive, she just gave Belphegor a look. "How the fuck--"

"You're exhausted, constantly. And sensitive. But you're not squirming like when you’re on your period,” She was almost always uncomfortable, and always wanted to munch on something. Not that he or Beel minded, “or running a fever.... And you haven't been really wanting to eat."

"I can't tell who's more observant, you or Lucifer at this point." Lucifer magically knew what they were doing so often she'd tease him about spying, yet it seemed Belphie was just as observant if not more so. 

"It's kinda funny. You knew before even I noticed." She laughed a bit, earning a smile from him.

Diavolo:

Diavolo was a special sort of person, and to say she was surprised he was willing to share her, was massively down playing it. 

The Prince had truly been a man with a golden heart and a fist of steel if pushed enough. 

"Barbados did mention I had a little bird in my office." His laugh was low, the large man moving to look at the girl who was currently leaning against his desk. "Lucifer was nearly panicking when someone mentioned you weren't home."

She blinked in surprise before pulling out her D.D.D. "Woops. I forgot to turn the sound back on." She was gonna get a lecture about that later, she just knew it. 

"Now, Princess, why are you waiting on me and not letting Lucifer know?" A large hand stroked her cheek, causing her to lean into his touch. 

"Cause he'd ask why and I wanted you to know first?" Bright, soft eyes gazing up at him as her hands moved to gently hold his hand. After a moment she moved his hand from her face to her abdomen. 

There was a moment, a pause before it clicked. Golden eyes seemed to grow brighter. "Are you sure?"

The way her smile grew only caused a massive one to spread across his face. Politics be damned, he was too happy about this.

He moved to pull the smaller woman into his arms, holding her close. 

Simeon:

Being an Angel meant a few things, even if Simeon knew he was on a path of damnation like Lucifer and his siblings had.

He loved the woman currently snuggled in his bed, his fingers ran through her hair as his gaze softened. 

A new life was blossoming. 

A new life that belonged to them. He didn't care about the lineage, it was still his child within her, whether he sired them or not. 

Fingers carefully caressed along her body, the touch was intimate and soft, just admiring her. Tonight she was with him in Purgatory Hall before she'd go back to the House of Lamentation. 

"Mmm... Morning, Simeon." Her voice was groggy and soft. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Very well, my feather." He whispered as he leaned down. "I love you." He nuzzled into her soft hair, earning a soft, happy noise. 

"You're so lovey this morning. Did I miss something?" She ran her fingers through his hair. 

"You're pregnant, love." His words were soft in her ear and just the honesty of it stole her breath. "It's a very new life, but I noticed this morning."

Fear flooded her first but then joy did. Because even if she was scared, even if she was nervous, she had Simeon and the others. "Are you happy? I”m a little scared...  but happy." 

"I am happy. Because this is ours... Yours, mine, and the others. And have no doubts they'll be as excited as I am. Even if they are a bit scared."

Simeon was as terrified as she was, he was an Angel that broke all the rules, teetering the edge of falling from grace. Lucifer was one that had already fallen and was now a demon... A powerful one. 

But he knew, no matter their fears, hers or theirs, they'd love her and their child. No matter what. And nothing would ever harm them.

[baobaojng]

when icarus falls (jung jaehyun) - act two (final)

when icarus falls - act one, half time interval, act two

jung yoonoh (jaehyun) x reader - college athlete!au , crush!au

themes: angst, fluff, (super tiny tiny tiny implied smut)

reminders: YOU HAVE TO READ THE HALF TIME INTERVAL BEFORE YOU PROCEED TO THIS PART!!

summary: some tragic story of you sharing one class with your long time college crush jaehyun who never notices you until he accidentally reads your work and he gets curious— oh, and he uses lame excuses to get to talk to you.

note: AAAAA here we finally are! thank you so much for the kind words and the support y’all gave during the entire process of this fic, i’m so grateful! hope to see you guys read my fics in the future! from here, this has been ‘when icarus falls,’ thank you.

wordcount: 15,375

>

Chittaphon and Doyoung did not ask any questions when you asked them to drive you home, but since you spilt your own feelings to them - they already knew that something bad happened between you and Jaehyun. You were silently holding sobs in the backseat, not even wanting to make any semblance of a sniffle, but it caused more pain to your windpipe that felt like it was swelling. When they reached your apartment an hour and a half later you immediately got out the car, wanting to vomit on the sidewalk. Although you knew that what had happened with Jaehyun punched the sobriety back into your senses, your body seemed to protest otherwise.

“I’m so fucked.” You managed to say in between breaths, your mouth tasted like acid. You hated yourself for ever drinking and for ever setting foot in that place, your two friends worried behind you - Chittaphon having to pull your hair back. And then you cried in full volume, like putting yourself on mute pented up even more of your emotions. They didn’t know how to respond, but you couldn’t blame them for that. There was always an assumption that they would never really understand you even if you told them how you felt, and they really wouldn’t. In fact, at this point, not a soul could understand what you felt for Jung Jaehyun.

They don’t walk you inside your apartment; you assured them that despite your puffed up face and the strained feeling of your throat that you could make it to bed safely. It did not feel like the right time to be coddled by your friends. You just wanted to be alone.

Buzzing sounds were coming from your phone, and Jaehyun’s contact photo was flashing across the screen. Your eyes squinted at the light, but it hurt more knowing that he was trying.

Jaehyunnie: let’s talk (3:04am)

Even in text, it seems, you’ve rubbed off of each other; he even typed the way you did already.

Jaehyunnie: please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: just answer me, please (3:05am)

Jaehyunnie: y/n please (3:06am)

Tears dripped out of your eyes continuously, it was going to be hard trying to fall asleep.

-

Jung Jaehyun’s number was officially blocked on your phone. For hours you tried convincing yourself that this seriously wasn’t chickening out - this was more about you knowing that there wasn’t going to be good conversation about what had happened, plus your ego would not want to be compromised by immediately jumping at his request of talking. Your emotions needed to mature a little bit more, and until when you didn’t know. Space was needed and even more so the time for you to really think things over. For once you did not allow yourself to point fingers at the alcohol or the circumstances of that night; it was meant to happen then anyway. The world was cruel in so many different senses that it reminded you that you couldn’t uphold the friendship you established with Jaehyun. It had to end the same way it started: where your world crashed down around the idea of your feelings for him.

When Monday rolled around, it took a lot of guts deciding whether or not you were going to end up going to your Literature class, but you painfully forced Chittaphon to vacate his seat next to Jaehyun and sit next to you - afraid that you would have no form of protection if Jaehyun were to try and approach you in class.

“You’re about to drill a hole through the floor with your foot if you keep on thumping it up and down like that.” Chittaphon commented, all while you didn’t notice how nervous your body was reacting.

“Drill a hole through my head, won’t you? I seriously don’t want to be here.” You agonized in your seat, covered in about three layers of clothing in an effort to make yourself believe that it would be a good disguise against Jaehyun. Maybe, just maybe, he would flat out forget you existed if he could not see you in the mounds of sweaters you tried to concoct this morning. It was some delusion wanting for him to not notice you and for you to run away from this with no feelings at all.

Chittaphon seemed a little sad for you, the downwards slope his lips were going to was enough of a sign anyway. “Cheer up, won’t you? If he did the wrong thing at the wrong time and you know you were wronged somehow, shouldn’t he be the one to suffer like this? It’s really Jaehyun’s loss, not your’s.”

The comment was a little too soon to make, especially when Brianna Chang wrapped herself around Jung Jaehyun’s arm like jewelry as they walked in Literature at the same time. She sat down where Chittaphon normally sat, and Jaehyun didn’t seem like he even noticed that his friend wasn’t sitting there. She did not even take this class, but to be fair it wasn’t even twenty minutes till the class started.

Suddenly you regretted the layers of clothing you wore; they felt like a boiling prison chamber.

When Brianna Chang (very loudly) laughed at something Jaehyun had said and placed her hand on his forearm, it sent an echoing pang into your chest. So this is what it felt like looking at him from afar, lest you forget where you were before the two of you had become close. This is how it felt like seeing him not care about everybody else because he could hang out with whomever he wanted despite the dirty looks thrown his way. Quite literally, this is how it felt like taking the backseat. And when Brianna Chang left five minutes before the professor’s arrival, Jaehyun walking her to the door, his eyes searched for yours. Only a split second of surrender occurred until you stripped yourself away from his gaze; you weren’t playing this game.

Jaehyun looked like he didn’t care anyway, and it hurt more to know that he just looked at you and walked back to his seat. You expected him to carry on his efforts at trying to talk to you, but you should have known that he wasn’t one to prolong things.

This was foul two, the first he committed that night on the beach.

Maybe you were just that disposable.

You finally decided to answer Chitapphon who looked just as puzzled as how you felt. Unfortunate how he was debunked so quickly. “You were saying?”

-

Dinner became an issue you thought you would never think about. It seemed that you’ve grown so used to having Jaehyun ask you to dinner everyday, him waiting for you by the tree you claimed in the quad. Now it was just straight walks back to your apartment alone, not realizing you needed the evening sustenance until your stomach started growling while you were trying your best to distract yourself with all the reading requirements you were digesting in advance. Maybe it was metaphorical for how you were trying to avoid Jaehyun, you could only go in for so long before realizing how much you needed him now. The harder you tried to avoid him physically, everything else would remind you that you couldn’t forget him or dodge the idea of him. It was diabolical how you were so used to this routine before you became friends with Jaehyun, only for it to be hijacked now because you built most of your time around him.

A video call request from Lisa chimed in, you suddenly had to dig through the multiple pages of books that buried your phone. Right, there was a mixer she was trying to invite you to but you declined. You answered her call anyway.

“Hey.” You spoke to the pixelated mess on your phone the audio already chiming in, mashed up sounds of music and other people.

“Y/N! Are you sure you aren’t free tonight?” She said, the lighting over on her side a little bit weird, but the signal came in better and you could see her clearly.

You switched your camera to show her your table, “yeah I’m sure, I have to write about Persephone tonight.”

“Oh, I thought Jaehyun would be keeping you preoccupied.” You loved your friend but you did not have half the heart to admit to her what happened, you knew she’d find a way to try to get you to talk to him and you were not yet capable of doing that.

“Nope, just me.” You reminded her, switching back to front camera.

“Yeah actually never mind,” Lisa said, this confusing you. She quickly switched her camera this time and zoomed in to someone. “Jaehyun’s right here partying too!” She remarked, and now you could make out the figure she was trying to capture on camera.

It was Brianna, her perfectly colored hair indicating it was her, and Jaehyun dancing on each other among a small crowd.

Suddenly, you did not want to eat. You had no appetite at all.

Foul three.

-

It was quite odd for Johnny Seo and Mark Lee to ask you to hang out with them after class. Not that they were difficult to be around, they were actually really fun guys - except you never really got super close with them. They were probably the closest ones to Jaehyun if you were to make estimates.

“I made a class outline for you so you wouldn’t pass up on getting some chow with us at the very last minute.” Johnny handed you a neatly written reviewer; he probably took some of the same units during his pre-law.

“And I’m here too so you probably can’t resist me and my fun charms.” Mark announced.

You could very easily try and pretend to match their energy, but you would be lying if you did and that on its own wasn’t fair. It was half true that you would pass up on hanging out with them (also because Johnny was one of the key people during the beach party), but only because they reminded you so much of Jaehyun— too much of him to rub off on every single thing and make your mind go back to him.

So you just smile and take the outlined paper and nod along, silently telling them that you were down to go wherever they wanted to.

Now, their idea of a fun time was to go to an Ikea to have food and look at furniture. You didn’t expect it from two goofballs who seemed to probably have zero knowledge on home care, but they proved you wrong.

There was no real idea when they asked you to hang out with them; you originally thought that when they walked up to you, they’d immediately allude to wanting to know about why you and Jaehyun weren’t hanging out as much and why you didn’t go to their practice for the past two sessions. Chittaphon and Doyoung had promised that they wouldn’t tell any other soul about the incident at the beach, and of course anything related to the feelings your harbored for their team captain. Instead they just went up to you out of the blue and told you they wanted to go out.

It would have been way too optimistic for you to expect that they wouldn’t brush on the topic either.

“So,” Mark said with a mouthful of meatballs, “why don’t we see you around much?” He asks cautiously.

“What do you mean? We see each other in school all the time though.” You try to be passive about it, because you very much know what he is hinting at.

“Why don’t we see you around much with Jaehyun then.” Johnny clarifies, and you nod once as you put away the drink you were holding.

The expression on your face is blank, and you realize now that you’ve mastered using it to really avoid how you felt inside. “You two really have no clue, do you?”

A ‘pft’ sound escapes Johnny’s lips, “of course we know something, but it would only be fair if we asked you. Especially when Jaehyun’s been whoring around trying to fool himself into believing he likes what he’s doing.”

“Let’s all just let him be. Besides, I’m sure there’s a reason for what he’s doing and maybe we think he’s unhappy because we don’t like his choices. If we all regard him the way we really do, then we should respect him and whatever he does, right? I’m respecting him by keeping my distance.” You shrug, maybe you had to leave it alone; you had no fighting chance.

“Don’t you think it’s worth trying getting through to him though?” Mark asked you with hopeful eyes.

Your nose crunched into different creases, “see, I blew him off way too many times for that to be possible. I don’t think he’ll want me to talk to him anymore either.” No, you wanted to talk to him for sure. You were just so scared of being confronted with the truth: you crossed lines that should not have been crossed. “Besides, it’s enough that I’ve liked him for as long as I have. And way too much that I was the one that messed it all up too, I should leave it alone.”

“If you say so, then I won’t force it. You’re your own boss.” Johnny respectfully said in defeat.

Walking around looking for blankets, the three of you caught up on how you all were. Your mind could not pin together how they had some sort of idea of what happened - maybe Doyoung and Chittaphon did snitch on you or worse, Jaehyun could have told them something. In that case, you wouldn’t know what he had said or what he had conjured up.

It should not have surprised you when you saw Jaehyun with Brianna, him whispering something a little too close into her ear. He was holding a basketful of home items. ‘Wow,’ you thought, they were going domestic now.

You were caught stuck in your tracks upon seeing it, and thankfully Johnny was behind you so you were able to lean on someone and not fall from losing your balance.

“Out of all the damn days he could have gone to go out and out of all the damn places.” Johnny huffed under his breath, but instead you tried to set him back into a calm mood by tapping at his shoulders with your palms.

“It’s alright Johnny.” You assured as Mark kind of just stood there to awkwardly assess the situation at hand.

“I don’t think it is.” Mark spoke and you noticed that Jaehyun had spotted the three of you. It felt like the first time you ever laid eyes on him, but the great feeling didn’t last long— certainly not lasting as long enough as you would have liked.

“Hey.” Johnny stepped out to pretend to be glad to see his friend, you noticed Jaehyun trying to make his way closer to all of you with Brianne just trailing behind him.

With the basket of duvets the three of you had selected earlier, you tapped at Mark to signal him to follow you away from this running into each other incident.

Had Jung Jaehyun the nerve to ruin Ikea for you, fucking Ikea.

Foul fucking four.

-

Jaehyun made you sick, he was some ritual that you embedded deeper in than the dermis of your skin - every single thing reminded you of him, even if they weren’t memories you shared together. It seemed that every single thing that had attached nostalgia to it had a little bit of Jaehyun. That’s why you decided that you were willing to forego your common routine in order to avoid even the slightest idea of him. He was like salt that degraded the metal away from you; it hurt even hearing the syllables of his name.

Doyoung usually accompanied you to your trips to the common lounge in school, as you insisted that you felt uncomfortable with the idea of being alone in public in some way. He happily agreed to being your study buddy, wanting to catch up on learning from you because apparently it was easier.

There had to be some way for you to simply avoid and adjust: the measures being taken to the extreme when you figured out that maybe now you took a better liking at Mediterranean food because you never ate any with Jaehyun, you did not take walks by the same route going back to your apartment— hell, you didn’t even want to hang around your living space because everything that used to be so organized was all messed up the way Jaehyun had left them. It felt like you were evacuating the storm that he was, and it was devastating.

For a while you were able to successfully carry out this goal by snubbing him in any sense that you could. Except, you had to admit that it left a pit open in your stomach each time you saw his back during Literature. Sometimes you could tell you were shaking from the wrist to your fingertips just because he made you wary.

Your success did not last long, like any other attempt at trying to avoid him.

He committed foul five when he entered the common lounge with Brianna, seeming to hold matching paper cups of coffee - distracting you from your productivity.

Jung Jaehyun never used to step foot here in all the years you’ve liked him, and even now he was getting in the way of your routine.

-

Four grown men had to convince you that the only way for you to get over whatever it was you were feeling was to flat out face it and try your best not to care. ‘Try your best,’ still did imply that you did. It implied that Jung Jaehyun still had some effect on you. Although you were still trying to convince Johnny, Mark, Doyoung and Chittaphon that you were fine with ‘leaving it alone,’ they could see right through you.

“You’re beating yourself up about him.” Chittaphon warned when the four of them practically barged into your apartment one afternoon. It was an argument you couldn’t win and a situation you couldn’t convince them out of. Thankfully you were surrounded by sensitive fucks who could really feel how terrible this was affecting you— you expected them to be more indifferent, to just not want to put up with your constant passive-aggressive answers and just agree even if they knew you weren’t truly speaking what you felt.

The real reason why they came over was to tease you with an ‘open invitation’ to having a friendly group dinner, with beers if your mood allowed, because they felt like you needed a little bit more fun and to stop being so paranoid all the damn time. There was a catch though: you’d have to sit through their basketball practice. On that note, you were about to jump out of your own skin in order to tell them ‘no,’ and that you did not want to even set foot in the basketball gym. Johnny thought way ahead though, telling you that Jaehyun has been negligent with practice these days and that he wouldn’t be there.

What Johnny didn’t tell you in full detail though, was he most likely wouldn’t be there.

So that meant while you were sitting by the bleachers- eyes roaming around at the spacious gym, wondering how you could sit here before almost all the time and not feel bored out of your mind, your friends were a little panicky about Jaehyun’s possible arrival. The place smelt like it used to, if humidity had a smell in this sense it definitely would be sweaty - mixed with all the different sprays each of the guys had. They were pretty surprised you showed up too, Yukhei and Donghyuck genuinely pestering you with tight hugs as they were convinced you passed away. Good for you, they had no idea at all about the context.

It felt like you were revisiting a dream: a little unreal, and a little melancholy. Never expecting you’d find yourself here.

Even the time you spent apart from Jaehyun felt longer than the time you spent almost everyday with him. Sadness could do that.

Foul six was even worse, when Jaehyun came in with Brianna again - smiling like he always did when he was with her. Your mind trying to recall if he ever smiled at you as much, or if he smiled at you as brightly.

He looked at you for three seconds, you could count with how slow your heart beat. But when he did see you, he lost his smile and he looked away.

Needless to say, you requested so many beers when your four friends took you to dinner— Johnny footing most of the bill.

-

It was a Monday when it happened, you were walking out of class alone (this time you were the one to want to try and savor the feeling of familiarizing yourself with yourself again, after what had happened in the gym and after another terrible hangover - you figured that maybe it was yourself that you were missing.) You thought that maybe it was time to breathe deeper and try different things out, although it still hurt you that Jaehyun seemed to be doing much much better at recovering than you did.

Well, who’s to say there was anything to recover from, right?

“This is one of the last requirements you’ll ever submit in this class. No, it isn’t in usual analytic format— rather, I want all of you to write up how you feel like you can related to Icarus in the myth of Daedalus and Icarus. Deadline is in two weeks.” You professor had announced right before you were dismissed, you simply took a note in your phone about it and waited for everybody else to exit so you could steer clear of walking with groups of friends that would obviously make you feel uncomfortable.

You were just about to walk out of Literature when you stopped in your tracks to notice that Chittaphon and Johnny were cornering Jaehyun outside the lecture hall. Morally, if you had any in tact for the sake of yourself, you would have gone and ducked your head down and brisk walked the hell away from there. Though, right now, you did not even have the guts to walk past them. So you decided to stand where you were behind the big doors and hide. Yes, eavesdropping was a terrible idea but you couldn’t help but wonder why the two were cornering the team captain; they very clearly discussed their dismay towards his insensitivities toward you and his negligence towards the team lately, but they knew much better than to ask for some confrontation. Besides, you’ve never seen them hold serious faces like that. Not ever.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny said deeply, he wasn’t speaking in the manner of a team member or a classmate, but more as a friend, “what the hell’s going on with you?”

You don’t see Jaehyun shrug, but you can hear the dismay in Chittaphon’s whine when there is no vocal noise that expressed Jaehyun’s answer.

“You said you were willing to talk to us! Can you at least give us a little more than that? You’ve been shrugging and giving one worded answers these days and it’s really getting on everyone’s nerves.” Johnny demanded.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong at all.” Then there it is. Jung Jaehyun finally speaks, but you think that as you hear his voice - you’ve missed this voice so much - that it does not sound like him. Technically, it does, but it does not feel the way he really speaks. Jung Jaehyun used to speak in a way that even the way his voice vibrated at the bottom of his tongue, you could feel every pronounced expression that he was trying to put out. This Jung Jaehyun sounded flat, dense, as if his words were thrown around in a void. It felt cold.

“Seriously? You’re going to keep acting this way? Isn’t anything important to you right now?” Johnny raised his voice, you could tell the answers he was getting frustrated him.

“What? I can’t go around and have some time for myself now? Is that not unfair Johnny?” To no avail it seemed, it was even more challenging that Jung Jaehyun kept his monotone voice.

“I’m not saying that it’s wrong for you to take some time off but this isn’t you Jaehyun. Bigger games are around the corner! And what? You’ve been disregarding Y/N’s existence like she didn’t even mean anything to you? It’s fucking bullshit.” The tallest exhausted, and you couldn’t help but feel cramped up in a tight spot when he mentioned you.

“What do you want me to say? That she matters? I think I’ve done more than make it clear at this point, Johnny. If she doesn’t want me to matter, I’m done. She doesn’t matter.” Fuck, that hurt.

With hot tears dripping on your cheeks, you walk out of where you were standing. To this, Johnny’s eyes go wide and Chittaphon tries to reach out and console you. But Jaehyun’s face is something else; it crumbles and it falters down to the realization that you had heard everything.

It feels like you are retracing your steps on the beach when you walk away.

“Y/N! Wait!” Like how he sounded before, it was ringing. How his voice claimed the ceiling of the hall. He was chasing after you this time, and he was getting closer faster.

You have guts this time, even if you know you look like hell. Turning around you face him, “I don’t matter, right?”

His brows furrow in distress. “It isn’t like that.” Oh, but to you it was.

“I know what I heard,” you exhale a deep breath, “just leave me alone Jung Jaehyun.” You shrug him off, but he grasps onto your forearm.

“Can you just please listen to me for once and not run away?” There’s a lump on your throat you can’t swallow, but you stand where you are and you nod slowly. It hurts that you want to hear him out.

“What else is left to say?” You try to exhale deeply, even through ragged breaths you were taking in.

Jaehyun drops all his things on the floor, despite the deep loud sound of them falling, there is no commotion made. Only now warm lights of the campus are turned on because it is late, it is quiet, and your knees are about to clump in together to freak you out. But he breaks you even more when he pulls out some stapled sheets out of what he was attempting to rummage along his items. At first you don’t recognize the thing he is holding; it looks worn out with many creases and dog ears at the sides and you wonder what is it in his hands— but then you recognize the detail in spacing: it was your paper. Somehow it made sense now why it had gone missing right before you were to show it to Doyoung, and how Jung Jaehyun couldn’t get off your hair.

“I’ve always had this,” he tries to explain even with all the layers of hesitation, “except I never got around to explain it to you.”

You are caught in a trap, and you cannot respond. Only with silence and your teeth pressing against each other in anticipating agony.

“These words have kept me drawn to you. I think I’ve gone out of my way so many times to make these words come to life. And those months being friends with you I just can’t help but feel like I haven’t completed what I was supposed to. I just can’t explain why, but I don’t regret reacting how I did on that beach.” Jung Jaehyun is still unimaginably confident as he tells you this.

But you tear up even more, “that’s where you’re wrong.” The voice in your throat croaks and falters.

“How can you say that?” He asks as if he is hurt, which is a very big leap from how he had sounded when he talked to Johnny. You take a very deep breath.

“Because I’m not a fucking charity case, Jung Jaehyun. What you feel isn’t real if that’s all that’s kept you with me for these past few months. You just confuse your pity for an entirely different thing, but you should know that I never needed you help.” You cannot look him in the eye as you look for anything else to distract you: the floor, your heartbeat, the edges of your worn out Converse. “It just sucks that I know I’ll love you even if you think of me that way.” It feels like your throat was choking up on its own, suddenly you wished you were swallowing the words you had uttered.

Jung Jaehyun doesn’t answer you, and he looks like he cannot, not when his eyes were wide as they were - and the rest of his expressions just glitch onto you.

Then you walk away with salty tears fitting themselves into the crevices of your lips as you try your best not to let him or Johnny or Chittaphon to run after you. There was already enough running.

-

Perhaps you expected way too much of Jung Jaehyun to have the tiniest hope to even believe that he would get out of his way to try harder to talk to you, because he was doing the exact opposite of that. It seemed he had traded you in, in exchange for the life he had before the two of you were friends. Although it was a little odd to see him divulge back into a lifestyle he swore he hated, it never dawned to you how much it suited him. Jung Jaehyun was in his natural state of a dream around everybody else, and you were burying yourself even deeper in all the aged terrible literature that would piss you off just because you wanted to distract yourself. Who were you kidding? It had only been two days, and to be honest to yourself - you weren’t really holding up great because your choice of strategy did anything but distract you; it only reminded you that you were forcing yourself to be distracted by him.

You’ve lost any avenue of focus, so you decided it would be fair to end up just not attending your classes anymore. It wasn’t like you were dropping out of class, you had a few weeks left into the semester and you could pass a lot of your requirements over e-mail - it was easier to just decide not to go and wait until Jung Jaehyun graduated.

~

“I heard she’s dropping out of her units.” One of the girls from the table said, Jung Jaehyun only now arriving to Brianna Chang’s lunch invitation, overhearing this. He sat next to Brianna, who was replying sadly to one of her friend’s new gossip.

“What a shame, she’s really intelligent too.” She commented, and Jung Jaehyun had to raise a brow.

“Who are we talking about?” He asks.

“Aren’t you close with her?” Brianna asks him, and he feigns any knowledge of the sort. “Y/N?” She asks again and he couldn’t believe his ears.

He pretends he doesn’t really understand the situation, “she’s dropping out?” Trying to suppress his own worry, he just keeps quiet.

For as long as Jung Jaehyun remembers, he’s always noticed you. Even before you got close to the mutual friends you two had shared, he always noticed how intelligent you were for ranking up at the top of your classes and how you never seemed interested in what a traditional college student would. Instead of taking yourself the entire way by drinking your nights out like a majority of people he knew did, you always seemed to keep things under a minimum and just go with the flow. What was even more interesting was how you were still able to say ‘yes’ to your friends’ invitations as well as study your brains out, and always attend his basketball games. To Jung Jaehyun, it sure was intriguing. He made sure he read all the paper work you submitted in class whenever you gave the teachers your permission to post them for reference sake (he heard a rumor that you were just that good to be used for reference) - and it never failed to make him even more curious. Even if he had all the chances in the world to try and introduce himself to you and get to know you because you were always around Doyoung and Chittaphon, he never wanted to force anything out of it.

During the first time your Literature professor called in for a meeting regarding the trip to Greece, he was a little bit intimidated to find out you had signed up— but it shouldn’t have surprised him because of course you would sign up, he did not have to know you well to know that he would probably find you where there was a trace of learning and extra credit or some challenge at such. He could tell how uncomfortable you were sitting next to him though, rummaging your papers all too quickly to pass in an assignment to be the first one to leave, causing you to not notice a couple of documents fly off of your compilation.

Jung Jaehyun was kind enough to pick them up to give back to you just to be, well, kind. But when he looked up to hand them back to you, you were simply gone from the room. For days he tried his best to give your papers back, and he never dared reading them. Each time he did try giving your papers back you always misread the situation, assuming he was nearing you because you were always with your mutual friends (he thought it would be easier to talk to you this way because he wouldn’t know how he could muster any courage up if he went up to you alone) and you would leave. Jung Jaehyun swore millions and millions of times in his head that no matter how long it would take to bring back your personal belongings, he would not read them. Not a single word. He did not triumph from this promise, curiosity taking over the best of him, and he ended up reading these papers. The letterhead was written for one of your classes, in perfect format he might add. Jung Jaehyun read each word as if he were digesting them, bit by bit in each space and in each phrase - he found it curious: how the almost always uptight seeming person he had always seen around school felt the way that they did. If his mind were to tell him that maybe you wrote out of compliance, he wouldn’t believe it either; it was all too perfect and all too feeling for him to say you wrote out of the sheer need to.

The most striking thing was, it made him feel lonely— or, lonelier, if that were possible. Maybe you perfectly resonated the same feelings onto him through words, and it was apparent to him that he was a bit more frustrated at the thought that he did not know how to change your mind, he did not know how to be close to you.

It was definitely out of his hands when Chittaphon arranged a night out to drink after they had won that game when Brianna Chang confessed to him in front of everybody. He recalled how he saw you in the bleachers when he was switched out during a time out called by the other team’s coach, and how he didn’t care for the ‘major’ confession he received after they had won; he was too busy wondering why you disappeared along with the crowd, because he kind of knew that you would typically stay behind a little longer not to jam yourself in with the crowd. He had thought it would mess him up for the rest of the night which made him want to drink to forget about the girl he barely knew anyway, but to his surprise you were sitting there by the haphazardly arranged set of tables just put together - and he knew that after he accompanied his friends to order by the bar counter that it was definitely his chance to sit next to you.

It was another thing to text you the next morning, him trying his best not to write the most awkward greeting - considering that he did bring you home the night before. But he thought he’d never have any other chance to get to talk to you and try to be one of your friends too, and so he just did what he could even if it meant that he would plow through his own embarrassment.

The boy kind of proved that he had balls of steel when he asked you to have dinner, having a strong feeling you would turn him down because you probably would be busy. But then you had agreed to him anyway - to him it was just an invitation to dinner, but when Doyoung was there with you and asked what the two of you were up to, Jung Jaehyun thought that maybe it wasn’t ‘just dinner’ especially since his heart was beating faster than he would have liked.

You won him over without even knowing when the two of you talked over dinner, and even more so when the two of you had walked to your apartment just so he could take a look into your work. Jung Jaehyun realized that at the very least he was interested in you, but he was sure he harbored a little bit of feelings. From there everything had just blown into proportion.

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like without grabbing dinner with you, having you sit in the bleachers doing your paperwork but also surprisingly giving him constructive advice on the sport (this was honestly just the icing on the cake), dragging you out when you least expected to - or just seeing the smile on your face whenever you’d exit your dazed expression.

Jung Jaehyun never thought he could ever easily open up to anyone as much as he could to you, it was like spreading out a velvet map over a creaseless table - all his edges seemed to fall perfectly out of his lips and into your own words. He could listen to you recite your poetry all day. He only wanted to see your face after every single practice and every single draining game. He wanted to clasp his hands around your wrist just to catch you off guard, but also only because he had no other excuse to touch you. He knew he loved you since the first time he asked you to eat Chinese food with him for dinner, and he knew he would love you even more when you were so willing to show him your collection of literature. Jung Jaehyun knew he never loved anyone the way he loved you.

Something had scared him though, the idea that he did not want to risk romance with you. To Jung Jaehyun, he always received too special treatment from females - often receiving confessions, making it easier for him to know if someone did like him or not. So in his eyes, you seemed to treat him in no more difference than the rest of your friends. Many times had he longed to bring up the possibility of something else between the two of you, but he did not want to ruin what was already there. Maybe if he didn’t risk it, the routine he built around you would stay and he wouldn’t have to deal with the idea of ever losing you. Even if it was against his own heart, he decided to try and feel something else for someone else. That’s why he had chased after Brianna.

Imagine his surprise when you had told him that you loved him, Jung Jaehyun felt like he threw up his own heart and tried swallowing it down. When he kissed you, he wanted you to kiss him back and he wanted you to keep telling him that you loved him because he so desperately wanted to tell you that he loved you too.

But you ran away, because he knew that things weren’t in the right order for you to continue. He had just told you that he was pursuing Brianna, and here he was kissing you only because you told him that you loved him.

-

Guilt ate away at Jung Jaehyun for the next few days. Deciding it was only ever fair now for anyone in the situation, he called anything off with Brianna before things got to serious and before he could regret anything. He waited for you to walk through the doors of the lecture hall for Advanced Literature, but you never came in. He heard people talking about your absence in annoyance, knowing that to them it only mattered that they were talking about somebody else for the sake of gossip. If you were around anyway they wouldn’t bat an eyelash at you, and here they were talking about all the different possibilities as to why the school’s academic ace wasn’t attending classes anymore. To Jung Jaehyun, he was willing to listen to hearsay if only to feed his mind and to try and reassure himself that you were probably doing fine. At least he had hoped so.

“I heard she’s transferring to a different university to take her masters in advance,” the girls behind him were talking about you, “I mean, she’s always been offered many scholarships from a lot of the good arts schools. It isn’t far from happening.” Wrong, he thought. You always swore you would get your diploma and attend your own graduation to feel the payoff of all your hard work. It wasn’t the most likely case.

“I heard she’s going somewhere for extra credit?” Another suggested, and obviously Jaehyun knew this wasn’t true either; you had every extra curricular and extra credit related thing listed down for the semester - and you never mentioned anything.

“I heard she hasn’t been going to classes because something upset her. My dad works at the hospital, and apparently she went into one of the therapy clinics in their wing. She didn’t look so good either.”

Now, this scared Jaehyun, as it was the only real possibility in his head.

He waited for class to be over to be able to talk to Chittaphon, his friend treating him with a little bit more caution since the last time you had a confrontation with Jaehyun.

“Why isn’t she coming to class anymore?” Jaehyun felt like he started breathing after holding in his breath, deciding to get straight to the point already.

To his dismay, Chittaphon could only shrug. “She hasn’t been talking to any of us, we haven’t had contact with her since— well, yeah, you should know.” This seemed even harder for him now, only realizing how difficult he made this entire situation when he could have just grown the balls to tell you that he loved you even before you did.

“Oh.” Was the only thing Jaehyun could say, staring down as he fiddled with his thumbs. He was guilty guilty guilty.

“Jaehyun, I love this reform you’re putting yourself on, but allow her to be lost. Maybe she needs it, in her own selfish way.”

-

Jung Jaehyun realizes over the course of the next few days that he misses you, and that nothing has really changed that. He thought that he had already known how it felt like to be so painfully in love with somebody, having been in a long term relationship that everybody had pinned for ever since he started off in college. He had remembered dating Kristen Sy mainly because it only made sense to everybody else for them to be together. There was love there, definitely. But the difference it made with loving you meant that he did not have to love somebody just because it felt like they were perfectly made to be cut out for them. In a way, because you were so different from Jaehyun, it made you perfect. Now his mind was kept wondering about all the different possibilities and all the chances he had with you and what could have happened if only he knew how to speak up and to realize much sooner that he loved you too.

He’s been in the middle of wracking up a storm in his head trying to write the paper on Icarus, noticing that (even though that’s exactly the writing assignment) he isn’t any different at all from the character.

Jung Jaehyun, always caught up in his own world where he is always praised an loved by everybody else, but he is left in these moments of vulnerability because he loves you.

-

It is the championship game of the season, the last game they’ll ever be playing for college basketball, when Jung Jaehyun tries his best to get his mind off of you for just one second. Big scouts are there to watch the game, and he can’t fuck it up for himself or for any of the other boys.

He couldn’t say that during the time outs that he didn’t look for you in the crowds of people, because he did. Trying to imagine that you were somewhere there with Lisa and Chittaphon and actually watching the game. Although he could not locate you, and it was very difficult trying to control his sadness. In his mind he pictured your face, and how intently you would watch the game as if you knew how to play it in the flesh, and how you would clasp your hands together each time you would slightly panic at the possibility of a foul or a missed hoop.

His imagination was not enough, that was for sure, but the idea of you cheering him on and telling him you were happy kept him going. Remembering how you were so genuinely happy for him when he would tell you about how excited he was about being scouted by one of the largest Leagues there was, he couldn’t help but smile his way through the quarters of the game.

Except Jung Jaehyun never prepared for the times when he would remember your face through all the different memories you had shared, even at the final twelve seconds on the shot clock when he was running to their basket— shooting a three pointer with a sure win score, he could remember the way you walked away. And the look on your face when you had cried and told him that he did not understand what he felt.

He stared off of a blank distance his eyes not locked down on anything specific, as the rest of the boys cheered and some got off the bench - Jung Jaehyun’s last time playing for college basketball. Though, the pieces couldn’t fit - even as Johnny Seo smacked him in the arm out of the pure pride he had felt for his captain, and when everybody handed him the championship trophy and carried him from each limb to raise him up as the most valuable player, it simply did not feel complete without you there. Even when their coach told them that SM League would be scheduling an official dinner for him and his team to talk business.

They were all roughly packing up at the locker room now, everyone tired. Through the dreadful noise of Yukhei’s screeching, he placed his items carefully in his duffel bag; realizing now that he was going to have to eventually totally empty up his locker. The metal only felt as cold as how he’d like.

“Jaehyun hyung,” Mark snapped him back into reality, “somebody left this for you a while ago.” His eyes travelled down to see Mark holding a plastic bag, and so he nodded in confused curiosity as he accepted it anyway. It was food? Maybe?

Written in an oddly familiar puppy designed sticky note were the words ‘congratulations, i knew you could do it.’ He couldn’t mistake it for anything else, it had to be your perfectly curved handwriting. Inside there were cans of  convenience store beer and a single-sized pizza, reminding him of the times you two used to park by the bay and talk about life in the cold of the hood of his car. You watched his game. More than ever it hit him that he missed you.

-

Growing up and getting into all school levels, meeting new people and keeping old ones, Jung Jaehyun knew that he just wasn’t the type to really gravitate toward pain. He grew up an only child, with his parents’ undivided attention given towards him and his future - and although he did not make all the friends he wanted, he made really good ones and never had a hard time letting any of them go when time dictated. He learned that every time he used to scrape his knees, it wouldn’t make it feel any better if he cried about it— like every time he failed to make the perfect shot he expected to make in the first place, he never dared to cry.

But with you all he wanted to do was get rid of all the pain - the stupid sensation he felt all over his chest that he could not explain. It was all so alien to him, how you could matter so much to the point where he had to realize now over and over again how stupid he was.

Throughout all the stages in his life he knew that life came easy to him, and he was some how gifted with the charms of reeling other people in, and never having to worry for his impressions onto others. But when he met you, he was always nervous and afraid of saying the wrong thing. When he became your friend he was always thinking about how you must have thought that he was a big distraction and that you had better ways to spend your time. And in those short moments where he could not grasp the events in his own life, he knew he loved you and that’s what mattered anyway.

Jaehyun was writing his paper on Icarus, trying not to divide his attention into anything else. For days he hasn’t seen you in class and his mind wondered what it would have been like if the two of you were fine, and if he had told you earlier on that he loved you too. So now maybe he understood the text a little bit better, maybe he needed to take more chances like Icarus did - even if he knew the repercussions of his actions. And maybe if he did crash and fall, then fail like Icarus, it meant that he took a chance with you anyway.

There was no telling now that he’d broken your heart and his own if he were going to drown in some sea of regret or burn into the sun, but what mattered was that he knew something now that he couldn’t comprehend back then.

He was not afraid of loving you. Not anymore.

-

His heart was racing, as were his feet and the surprisingly heavy luggage he was dragging around as he and Chittaphon were tailing the Literature professor around the airport in order for them to be admitted to their respective gate. He had his passport lodged between the confines of his lips, trying to keep the thing from touching too much saliva. But then in between his fingers he tried to balance his identification card and his phone, and everyone else wasn’t of help because their hands were all pretty stuffed too. Apparently their flight wasn’t until two hours but since this was a school related thing, they felt the need to panic about being late or potentially getting lost around the airport.

They were going to Thessaloniki now, and there was still no word about your presence - not even your professor mentioning any such detail about an appearance from you on the trip. Jung Jaehyun wouldn’t dare lie and say that he was really bummed that you really weren’t showing up, guilt eating him alive, he hoped over the course of your friendship that the trip to Greece would be a fun thing to enjoy between the two of you. But now, part of him sort of expected a no show from you; no one has heard from you in two weeks, and how was he even able to hope that you were going to show up.

After checking in at the gate, Jaehyun and Chittaphon decided to get some food - as it was about 2 in the morning and they haven’t eaten anything. And there was a twenty our flight in total, the next time they were going to be on land was going to be the layover in Istanbul. Leaving the professor behind to look after all of their things as she claimed an entire bench to the three of them, they set off in a quest to look for some coffee.

“I’ll have two large Americanos please.” Chittaphon told the barista behind the counter.

Jaehyun raised a brow, there was so much caffeine in question, “two? Are you trying to wake yourself up or are you trying to get yourself killed? It’s that, or wasn’t I in charge of buying miss Kim’s coffee?” He asked his friend.

To which Chittaphon responded with a chuckle, “what? It’s not like I’m going to go all berserk on the plane ride after I drink this much coffee.”

“Oh but you’ll have to give me a hard time when you literally get pissy.” Jaehyun joked.

“Who says I’m even sitting next to you, Jae? I’d much rather sit next to miss Kim and tell her how extremely grateful I am to her for allowing me to go on this trip.” His friend jabbed at him.

“Well, whatever suits you Chittaphon.” Jaehyun looks at the barista who was ready to take his order. “Two Americanos and a small box of bagels please.”

As they walked back slowly to find the benches where they set up, talking about how in just a three weeks they were going to graduate, Jaehyun noticed that somebody was talking to their professor. Although, he doesn’t remember seeing anyone they knew when they settled in the gate, so he decided that maybe he mistook a stranger for miss Kim.

“Jae? Where are you going?” Chittaphon asked, three steps behind him as Jaehyun was close to stirring away toward another direction. “Miss Kim is right there.” In Jaehyun’s confused plight, he did realize that he wasn’t seeing incorrectly, and that he was really seeing their professor talking to somebody. But he could only see her back. Miss Kim noticed that the two of them have arrived back and she waved over to beckon them in.

And then the stranger ran a hand through her hair slowly, and a little nervously if his assumption was right by the way her fingers twitched. The thing that gave it all away was that ring around the index finger, one he was accustomed with, something he always saw you wearing.

It couldn’t be.

The stranger turned around, and it was a face he missed a lot. This was no stranger, it was you - little bit more tired looking, and your hair cut shorter. In a way, you did look a little strange; he held a lot of memories in your hands when he took them, scents associated with how he smelt your hair, and each reflection of himself in those doe like eyes. Now your hands were a little bit more frail, and your hair framed your face in a way of change, and your eyes were set in no shock compared to the way his held so much - they were empty. But this was you.

It was, it really was.

Chittaphon was going to have a difficult time trying to explain himself, especially since he and miss Kim knew you were arriving and coming with them to Greece. Also, how he bought you that extra coffee in advance. But most importantly, how he knew the strict seating arrangements of the plane in advance as well. Jaehyun wasn’t going to deal with his piss because you were designated seat mates.

-

You would have thought that you knew better than to decide to catch up from your apartment, missing two weeks of attending actual lectures - you relied on your professors’ emails. There was some unspoken advantage of acing all of your classes, and being known to be a little more advanced for your age. None of them seemed to second guess your request of asking for all the compliance work you had to accomplish because you had to explain that you had to take a short leave of absence due to ‘medical reasons,’ which was a blatant lie by the way; it was just something you thought was easy to fake since you found your way around to ask for a certificate of an old illness you had when you were younger - that now somehow resurfaced out of thin air. Nevertheless, you put your mind into work and said fuck it.

It was one of the stupidly relieving things you’ve done. It seemed, each time you got your mind off of understanding lessons yourself, your mind always drifted back to Jung Jaehyun - and the answer to avoiding those thoughts were always related to just sleeping it off. The cycle was sluggish, tiring, a terribly perfect way for you to try to grasp the idea of rest.

Until one day after stressfully running your hands through your hair millions and millions of times as the stray pieces disturbed your focus at the pages you were highlighting, you guessed that it was a terrific idea to cut your hair. Surprise, it felt like it freed much needed space somewhere you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

A couple of days on this hiatus you found yourself in, and a ton of coffee consumed later, you were palpitating beyond comfortability. Frustratingly, the facilities got it all wrong when you were trying to explain what you felt one of the men listening by the reception was the father of a girl you had some classes with (you remembered that face from her graduation last year, before she was now taking up her masters), and you were transferred to the therapy unit to make sure they tried all sides of trying to assess your situation. Funnily enough, it took a certified psychiatrist to figure out that you were drinking way too much caffeine.

Then a few days later, you knew that it was the final (final, final) basketball championship game for the collegiate level. Although you were gravely sleep deprived with less tense muscles clinging onto your nerves, you figured that you had a heart somewhere still hidden away tucked beneath Jung Jaehyun’s sweaty strands of hair. You argued with yourself that you should have stayed away, because you knew that it was inevitable for them to win. But you were not going to pass up the final time you were going to see the legendary basketball team you watched all the damn time since you were a freshman, and you weren’t going to throw all of Jung Jaehyun away. Maybe now you were calmer, hiding behind scarier, more intimidating looking people in the bleachers - clumsily balancing the pizza and beer you bought between your fidgeting fingers each time the other team would make a clean steal at the ball. It still hurt somewhere to see him. Jung Jaehyun looked tired on court, and it was the first time you witnessed him looking so disheveled in the place you’d usually find him to be shining. But when the crowd went ballistic when the margin was far off and he took a final shot just for the sake of it, you stormed out to leave your little gift behind. It all just felt happy in your head; you were happy for him, you were very much sure that he would be playing for the big leagues.

Even though you had this whole debacle on how you were secretly catching up with your classes, of course your participation in the trip to Thessaloniki wasn’t out of the picture. Part of you was awfully assuming that you wouldn’t see Jung Jaehyun on the trip because maybe he had half the mind to give it up because you were going as well. But then again from the absence you took, to which you did not respond to any of your friends at all about their worried queries, you thought that maybe it would be a lot more logical for him to go on the trip assuming that you were gone from university. So you asked for a special consideration from your professor, miss Kim, if she would still count you in as part of the trip - to which she answered with ‘as long as you are able to pass, and as long as you are able to commit to going.’

That, if it weren’t for your deep and utter need to be able to hold on to your love for writing, you had to commit to. Sure it was quite difficult to put a little bit of yourself aside in order to really catch up, but unfortunately that was the only path you could take.

-

Nothing could ever mentally prepare you for this trip. Not even the two weeks you took of intensive studying by yourself, or that time you learned French for a semester and was put on the spot for it by touring a French transferee around your campus. It wasn’t like you did not know that you were going to likely suffer through his presence; it was hard enough as it is to basically put yourself into isolation - and now he’s one of the first people you were going to see.

You had assumed over text with Chittaphon and miss Kim that your rather late arrival was absolutely fine, since they gave off the vibe that only the two of them were patiently out to wait for you at the gate. So when Chittaphon asked you if you wanted a cup of coffee during the wait, you immediately said yes - as you thought that you looked like such a monstrosity, the caffeine boost was very much appreciated. Except, when you arrived to have a brief catching up with only your professor who was surrounded by a sea of luggage, you felt oddly alarmed.

Alarms did sound off in your head when you turned around to notice Chittaphon and Jung Jaehyun holding excessive amounts of coffee, a very bland look dawned by the boy mentioned in the latter. It was as if he was wiped off of all emotion in one whole sweep of just spotting you, and it hurt to see him that way. It hurt to just see him at all.

How did you even get here a few hours later? Basically melting into your seat next to Jung Jaehyun, you felt like you were slowly going to disappear into a little pile of goo. The feeling in the air was terribly odd, especially when you were trying keep your composure - and you weren’t sure whether the feeling was angry or sad. And you wished your body was capable of turning itself into goo; it could save you the immense torture of the awkward tension that filled the air. Because he was there, he was real, he was sitting right next to you. All your eyes could do was try and distract your brain by looking at all the little cracks between the airplane seats in front of you, not minding that it looked like you were staring at the same cartoon projection of your destination from the small television screen from behind the seats. Chittaphon had betrayed you: admitting earlier that he was responsible for booking these tickets last minute because he took on this responsibility. Apparently you and Jaehyun were meant to sit at least ten rows away from miss Kim and Chittaphon, next to each other, with you seated by the window seat. This was a set up, and clearly it wasn’t working.

The hours between the flight it took for you to get to the layover in Istanbul was mildly uneventful. You weren’t able to really sleep it all off because the coffee kicked in at the wrong time, and it seemed the same way for Jaehyun. Who only took to wearing his AirPods, not sparing you a single glance at all. The way you retaliated was through watching a movie that was available in the files on the little television, not giving in to having to ask him if you could pass and pee in the lavatory - or just so you wouldn’t resort to breaking the ice because it was awfully silent between the two of you to the point where your throat felt tender. When you two got out your chairs to get your luggage in the compartment above the seats, it was basically the same thing. Just beelines to get the hell out of there.

You could see the hopeful look on Chittaphon’s face as he and miss Kim were waiting for the two of you to exit the plane. It was the kind of look that expected you and Jung Jaehyun to be chummy, or to at least have spoken over things and have an air of comfort between the two of you. But the three feet distance between the two of you was pretty explanatory, and your Thai friend had nothing to expect.

“We’re grabbing some breakfast here on the ground before our next flight,” your professor checked her wrist watch, “which is in about four hours? So we have a lot of time to wait and to eat.” She said, oblivious to the drama between her students.

When the four of you left the gate of the plane, Jung Jaehyun quickly grabbed your carry-on bag, which left you a with imaginary question marks planted all over your face. If you had any guts to even say anything, maybe you would ask him what the hell was he playing at, but the thing is - you really, seriously had no guts at all to spare and even try to face him at the moment. So you could not contest the action.

Even when all of you found a restaurant to eat at around the airport, it was odd sight to see having Jung Jaehyun carry only his and your orders back to the table - considering that he and Chittaphon were carrying the orders, and Chittaphon was the person to buy you coffee before your flight to Istanbul. Your hands brushed against against that of Jaehyun’s when he handed you your drink, the the surge of electricity left you even more puzzled.

But when Jung Jaehyun asked you if you were okay as you walked to your next boarding flight the few hours later, you decided you couldn’t do this. You could not understand why you did not feel like you wanted to rip his head off, and instead it even hurt you some place in the chest that you did not know could feel that way. You did not feel angry, and it scared you the most how seeing him could change everything so quickly for you.

“Y/N.” He drawled out, he sounded tired trying to come up with reason.

You didn’t have it in you to answer him, so you rushed on over to sit next to your professor instead - with Chittaphon seeing the look on your face. You were horrified, and you weren’t ready to face Jung Jaehyun.

Needless to say, you were sniffling in your plane seat for the first hour until you fell asleep and tried to keep the tears away.

-

When you arrive in Thessaloniki in Greece, your brain tries to wrack up all the million different beautiful details of the city. You could go on and on to describe the sight that lay before you, but at the moment you simply could not. It was a place that birthed so many different links to human life, and the many things you have read over the years.

You wished you could say that you could smoothly sail through the beauty of the place without having any bothersome thought in your heart because of the boy you were with on this trip, but you could not say that.

It was interesting to think that you’ve liked him for the longest time, and at some point you realized you were the closest friends - the countless times you would text, share the lamest jokes, watch him play in court and worry about basketball after, share meals, take pictures. He was like your poetry collection: you know it for many things and then you realize that all the tears and smudges meant something deeper. Like how he imbedded himself into your skin, and now it’s way different than what it all was.

After a long day of venturing out on the city alone, since you were given the privilege of time, you found yourself walking through the Promenade of the city - where the bay marries the platforms of concrete, stone, and wood. Even in the cold evening air you painfully wonder what went wrong, and how it all got here.

You knew you loved him still, for sure. It was going to take mountains and seas to change that. You could smell the air of the sea, could feel how your feet tried to balance off every uneven step. It reminded you of loving Jaehyun and being his friend, it just all made sense.

Reaching the White Tower of Thessaloniki, you decide that since it doesn’t close for two hours you could spare some time checking out the museum within the monument. It was built in the fifteenth century during the Byzantine fortification, the structure still standing tall on the waterfront of the city. No doubt it’s been tweaked a bit of times throughout all the years, the lights installed inside screamed anything but natural. But you led yourself through the maze of screen heads to be able to try and find your way to get on the top of the tower in hopes to view the sea in a different way.

You reach the top of the tower, only the lights below you truly light up the night. And once again, farther away from comfort, you are alone.

“Can I stand here?” A voice threatens you out of your melancholy, and you were drawn back to that night at the bar - when Chittaphon and Lisa basically abandoned you at the end of the makeshift long table. It seems that Jung Jaehyun asks you these kinds of questions as if you have property rights over all basic human commodities of chairs and floors, and now bricks and concrete. Even his politeness bothers you.

“Sure.” Is the same answer you pose. And he stands three feet away from you, like he has so far during the duration of this trip.

After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “It’s really beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nod, but it’s not like he is looking at you - because you are trying your best not to look at him. “Thessaloniki is, yes.” But he doesn’t respond to you, and you weren’t expecting a response from him either. Small talk worked that way, and it was hard to maneuver yourself into this ‘conversation.’

“No, not this place.” He says, gently. Before you could even respond, you quickly take a glance at him to try and confirm through his expression what he means to say.

And Jung Jaehyun is looking right at you.

“Jaehyun, I—“ You try and reason out that you aren’t ready to face him like this, not when your heart is shattered into a million pieces. And especially not when you don’t care that your heart is broken because he is right there.

“Remember when I told you about getting scouted by that big league for basketball?” He manages to misdirect you just when you were about to step away, so you end up staying in your tracks. “I was so fucking happy holding you then and there when we were looking over the bay on top of my car, and I realized just how scared I was about the future but you made me feel like it’s an absolutely normal thing to feel scared of the unknown. And maybe I wasn’t so scared after all. The view kind of reminds me of that, but we’re standing so far apart, and I can understand why.”

You don’t know what to say, except to keep the bunch in your throat bundled up in nervousness - how you cannot pinpoint what he is trying to lead to. But you find yourself tearing up at his words, and it is salty when your tears find their way to fit into the crevices of your lips.

“Conversely, I think what makes me more scared is that the only reason why I feel like things will go fine is because I believe you. I always really have, and maybe I’ve been too caught up in trying to preserve our friendship to the point where I simply never wanted to tell you that I’m absolutely stupidly in love with you. You aren’t some charity case of some social sciences paper that fell of the file and landed to my hands. It was a lucky thing that allowed me to get to you, and to realize that my admiration must have meant that I’ve liked you for the longest time. I love you because you complete me, and not because I’m trying to complete you. You’re the three-point shoot that makes me win the game by a landslide, Y/N. Now the only thing I know that really fucking scares the shit out of me is losing you and knowing that I hurt you because I tried falling in love with someone else. It’s you.” Jung Jaehyun explains, then pauses. “You can tell me I was stupid for kissing you on the beach like that, I just thought you meant that you loved me and I didn’t know how long for. You can even tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again, and we can try to be civil and enjoy Thessaloniki for as much as we can fake comfortability. I just want to say I love you for as much as I can before I make you run away from me again, because it sucks to know all too well that I love you and that I hurt you. I’m just, I’m sorry.”

You do not speak for as long as you please, because you are trying to absorb what Jung Jaehyun told you.

“Jung Jaehyun, you’re such a fucking bitch.” Are the last seven words you say until you come closer to him and kiss him as hard as you can. He doesn’t expect this at all, obviously - by the way you could feel his face lift in surprise, and the short lag time it takes for him to kiss you back. It’s as if it’s only the two of you there, and you feel yourself unfold in his touch - like the pain drains away from you slowly.

Then, you think, was it so quaintly beautiful to kiss Jung Jaehyun in a historical landmark. Even more beautiful (and kind of confusing) when you forgive him right away; you have been just as stupid as he has.

“So, you’ve been at home all this time, huh?” He asks, as the two of you awkwardly find your way back to the city’s promenade to buy yourselves some time before heading back to the hotel, the distance between you not so far away - but enough for you to feel the cool of the air.

“Yes, I have.” You answer sheepishly, he has you caught guilty of your preference of a flight mechanism.

You turn to face him and redirect the topic back to him, “congrats on your game, by the way. You really nailed that last shot.”

Jaehyun smiles, “you really went on over and watched?”

“I mean, I had to sit somewhere I knew you wouldn’t see so that it wouldn’t be awkward if you did.”

“Well you know what? It was more awkward when Mark gave me the food you got.”

It is your turn to laugh, “I wouldn’t say much about that. All the other boys caught me and I had to make the delivery a little discrete, it was up to them to assign somebody to give the food to you, Mark was just a little unlucky.”

“I’m only a little disappointed,” he pouts, “I really thought you’d be there to hug me first and to tell me I did a great job after my last collegiate game. I should have told you earlier how I felt; this was all really dumb.”

“In my defense, you know I couldn’t just go up to you and hug you after what happened.”

He smiles sadly, “yeah, I know.”

“Jaehyun, it’s really okay. I mean I did say ‘I love you’ first, so it’s on me.” You try to reassure him, but he tries to compete.

“I loved you first though.” It comes out of his mouth with no tone of doubt.

“No, wrong again.” You hold up a loose hand.

“I loved you ever since we had dinner together for the first time, I think it was really there. I know I’m right.” He justifies, but you raise your voice in comparison.

“I loved you first.” You throw the argument back at him.

“No, I believe I loved you first.” He tries to say, and before a loop of argumentation could even happen you start to babble.

“Jaehyun, I’ve loved you since I saw you smile at Johnny from the back row when we became classmates in English for the first time - I don’t see how you can top that. Besides, you just said that you weren’t sure how long I’ve loved you for.”

He looks confused for a moment, and he doesn’t respond. He takes both his palms and clasps at your arms to stop you from walking and to keep you in place.

“Say that again.” He demands

“I have loved you since freshman year? Is that what you wanted me to say, or?” You try not to sound like you don’t understand why he needs to hear this again. But what you don’t know is, as he holds you a little bit tighter, he never knew you’ve loved him for that long - assuming that when you told him you loved him on the beach shore, you meant only recently.

He looks at you in a way you cannot explain, but he kisses you so deeply. And when he pulls away his eyes are filled with question, “I’m so stupid, god.” He says to himself, but you laugh it off instead. “You’re always a step ahead of me, huh?”

-

Johnny and Doyoung wake you up for a video call request the next morning, you wake up at the annoying notification sound. Neither miss Kim nor Chittaphon encountered you and Jaehyun together last night as you two took a bus back to the hotel after walking through the promenade, so there was no logical reason in your mind that could link back to why these two out of all people were calling you.

But you answer the video call anyway.

“What?” As the pixelated video connects you ask in a grumbled voice.

“Is Jaehyun not with you?” Doyoung says choppily.

“Huh? Why would Jaehyun be with me?” You are confused, as you’re only really waking up alone in your hotel bed.

“Am I not getting transmissions right, or haven’t the two of you made up or something?” Johnny asks this time.

“And when did you hear that?” You pretend you do not understand.

“Dude, I seriously asked Jaehyun to go and talk to you last night because he was planning on doing it anyway but he was chickening out. He texted me a smile emoji at like three in the morning and I thought that it meant that things were fine, but it must have been a sarcastic smile.” He explains.

“So basically you’ve been tailing me through Jaehyun, and now you’re asking me about it? You have real balls, Seo.”

“Are you and Jaehyun okay or what?” Doyoung demands an answer.

You break character just to piss him off a bit. “Yeah we are, dumb ass.” Johnny sighs out of relief from the other line, at the same time you hear knocking on your hotel door and you lazily scramble to answer it. Once you do open the door Chittaphon decides to just barge in.

“Why—“ You don’t even bother continuing your question, instead you change what you were going to ask. “Am I missing something here, or are you all just inviting yourselves to be part of my morning?”

“I don’t know, Y/N. Aside from the fact that Jaehyun woke up way too early for it to be normal and I could hear him singing in the shower. We aren’t even sharing the same room! He’s staying right next to mine and his energy is annoying. What happened? Did you suddenly profess your love for each other or something.” Chittaphon rants out of frustration, but you can only really laugh at this.

“That is precisely what happened, yes.” You answer him, as your Thai friend notices you’re on call with somebody.

“Oh hey Johnny, Doyoung,” He greets as he unsuccessfully waves his hands in the air, “guess we really are the fundamental bridges to their union.” And Johnny is quick to agree on the other end of the line just by the looks of it.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourselves.” You roll your eyes. It doesn’t take long until the entire basketball team goes on to flood your inbox about how happy they are that everything is suddenly alright. You suppose this is a cute thing, how all of these guys have been delicately concerned with what has been going on. You kind of feel like they are the lost boys of Neverland, wanting Peter and Wendy to kiss and make up. This is something you miss. Much to your dismay during that morning, when Chittaphon finally gets back into a good mood after napping on your bed for thirty minutes - in which you’ve already prepared for the day - you haven’t seen Jaehyun yet.

When you go down to the hotel lobby though, there he is, with his hair a little bit damp but his face thrown into a smile once he lays his eyes on you.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He greets, and it even looks like the sunlight is in chorus with his smile. Unbelievable.

“You look way too happy for it to be comfortable.” You comment, but he pulls you into a hug.

“We’re okay now, right?” He asks, and you chuckle into his chest.

“Jung Jaehyun, if we weren’t okay I wouldn’t allow you to do this to me.”

He hums. “I just wanted to say that I love you,” you laugh at him again like it’s the silliest thing in the world to hear— but you are surprised to know that Jaehyun is serious, “I have to make up for the years we could have been in this position, and I could have said it sooner.”

And that’s what Jung Jaehyun does, in every single alleyway and every corner you walk in Thessaloniki. He reminds you that he loves you. When your fingers trace through beautiful words written on the walls of museums, and look through the art piled up in random streets - he tells you he loves you and how you write, and how you tend to overanalyze everything of art you see. He takes notes of this when he takes pictures of you when you are not looking, and you smile when you take unflattering photos of him in return. When he takes your hand, and realizes you are all there is. When he is inside you, and you see how his eyes glint with each time he says that it’s you.

-

It doesn’t scare you when you get home from Greece. When you have to finally face the music and go back to school, people gawking at the sight of Jung Jaehyun being so outwardly open about the two of you being a couple. It doesn’t scare you to wait for each other after class to go back to getting dinners, and this time spending more and more time with each other. When Jaehyun asks you to be his girlfriend that time when he shadily asks you to go into the court because he said he wanted you to watch him throw his last hoops before the two of you get out of school. It doesn’t scare you when the two of you graduate a while later, and he’s automatically placed into professional basketball, while you’re assigned to do field work for a publishing company that offers travels abroad to investigate history and to simply absorb the world. College turns out to be way faster than you thought; one day you’re crushing on this basketball champion from the bleachers, one day you become hopelessly inseparable, and the next he’s your boyfriend.

Just a few days ago you handed him perfectly straightened envelopes filled with letters you want him to read for each day the two of you would be separated. He was going to intensively train for a while to condition himself in one of their facilities a few states away, while you were off to Crete to take note of significant landmarks and events there. It seemed that you could never have enough of Greece.

“You aren’t coming with me this time.” You talk to him on the phone before you were to board your plane.

“Unfortunately,” he says with a little bit of sadness, “but I’ll see you sooner than you know it, okay?”

“I know, Jae. It isn’t like we’re going to die without each other, this is the fifth time we’re going to be apart for the year but we’re fine. We have to get used to the set up.” You kid, and you practically feel his deep laugh from the other line.

“Oh don’t jinx it, please!” Jaehyun exclaims. “I feel like my heart is going to burst into pieces not being able to hold you.”

“Again, you aren’t going to die Jaehyun, so you better take care of yourself while we’re apart.” You recall the first time he had to go into training and you had to stay behind, Taeyong called you multiple times to say that Jaehyun would refuse to eat because he wasn’t used to the sudden quiet (even though he was with the noisiest bunch in the planet.) He wouldn’t sleep well either, and stay up all night reading because he said it reminded him of you. It took a lot of convincing but eventually you got him to get back on track, which honestly meant threatening him. “If you don’t take care of yourself, I’m going to make sure to beat your ass in return, and you should know that I mean it.”

“Breakfast and dinner don’t taste the same without you.” He whines like a child.

“You’re such a child Jaehyun—“

“I love you.”

Even if he’s said it a million times, it still puts you at a loss of words sometimes.

“My uh, my flight’s boarding. Love you too.” You’re forced to end the call before he can say a goodbye, and although you tell him not to miss you so much - you cannot tell him that you probably miss him more, if not as much.

Crete’s sun is only a little forgiving when you arrive, it is not to hot - but hot enough to bring your face into a scowl. It’s a little bit more calming in Crete than it is in the city you’re from; the streets aren’t as crowded as you would have expected upon your arrival, and the air feels just fine. For a few seconds you think that it might be a little bit easier not to miss Jaehyun, but then you realize that every single little thing you see you automatically remember him - and you want to bring him here just so the two of you can spend more time with each other.

On your first three days in Crete, you try to familiarize yourself with the place. Opting to really try and take a feel at how things are here and how life is, you find yourself exploring places in a quest of getting out of this loneliness you feel. The sun has left your skin in a reddish tint, and the looseness of clothing you carry around just screams how you’re ready for adventure. Chittaphon sent you a link to a few places he heard of from other friends, and that’s how you decided to go around. Eventually, you find yourself in an odd library that offers the sight of artifacts and statues, this is after scouring around looking for some place to eat. You haven’t heard from Jaehyun for the past three days either but you text him a good morning and a good night message each day, you think that the reason why he hasn’t been responding or updating you is probably because he’s too busy training - and it’s happened a lot anyway. So you resort to being on your phone less and try not to think about how much you miss him.

That is, until your phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” You don’t have to look at caller ID twice to know it’s Jaehyun, but the other line is silent. “Jaehyun?” Still no answer, but you don’t have it in you to end the call because it’s him calling.

“You’re looking at the displays of Artemis.” He says after a while.

“Hm,” you look around, and you think he’s only joking but you do notice the display incased in glass, “stalker.”

“And you’re holding a red leather bound book?” Jaehyun continues on but sounds unsure.

A ‘tsk’ leaves your lips, and suddenly you’re on panic mode. “It’s getting a little bit creepy.” You comment and he laughs, but this time it sounds louder than it’s naturally supposed to. So when you turn around to wonder what the hell’s wrong with your phone, you see Jaehyun standing there with his phone pressed up against his ear. You jump on to hug him, and you can feel the vibrations of his laughter. This is the last thing you ever expected. But apparently Jaehyun had to lie about having training; he was given some time off after exceeding his expected performance for the season, and this would be a good way to surprise you.

“Hey.” He peeks over to the book you’re holding: the myth of Icarus and Daedalus.

For a while you wonder if he’s really here, and in a deeper sense - you wonder how he’s your’s and how you ever ended up here. “You’re here.” You say, out of breath.

“I am, with you.” He smiles the smile you love the most.

“I love you.” You bury yourself into his chest, you want to bask yourself in his presence. How he’s here.

“I love you.”

Jung Jaehyun could never say he regretted flying too close to the sun, if it meant falling for you.

fin.

[mythicamagic]

As usual... I can never just choose one... soo here are my top choices you choose one. Lol

1. Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?

2. The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.

3.that ship has sailed. i’ve had my one great love already

4. we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!

5. Did you just slap my ass?” / “Actually, I firmly grasped it.” 

Why did I decide 2 of the hurt/sad/angst.. idk.. i suppose im glutton for punishment. Dont hurt me too bad if you choose to do one of them myth.

Decided to do a part two for - this ask. 

I chose;  The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.

---

The air felt crisp and clean, biting at Kagome's cheeks as she wound her scarf tighter around her neck. Winter markets were so much fun. The vast array of cute little items on display made warmth light up her chest, even as the candy and children's toys reminded her of a certain fox she'd left behind in the past.

Kagome smiled at Ayumi as she prattled on about something or other.

She shouldn't feel guilty. Shippo had barely visited the village in the last year she'd been there. Everyone had moved on. Including herself, somewhat. She'd been so wrapped up in her whirlwind romance with a certain Daiyoukai- the feudal era had been irreparably damaged as a home for her the second they'd broken up.

But she missed her friends. Dearly.

She shook herself. It was too late to go back on her choice now. The well had sealed shut for good.

Ayumi stopped to grab some hot chocolate from a street vendor, allowing Kagome a moment to warm her hands, rubbing them together.

Snowflakes gently danced about like powdered sugar, kissing Kagome's face as she turned- almost bumping face-first into a muscular chest. Fresh scents of wild forests and thunderstorms filled her nose, and she stiffened.

He smells the same.

Kagome bit the inside of her cheek, blue eyes narrowing. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"Haven't the faintest idea of what you mean," he arranged his features into mild innocence, which was near impossible due to his smiling eyes.

"Riiight," she muttered, wishing Ayumi would hurry up.

Sesshoumaru gazed down at her, a pink gift bag in hand. Kagome grit her teeth, hating that she wondered who it was meant for.

"I did not intend to run into you here, before you accuse me of anything," his silky voice caressed her hearing once more. It sounded so lulling, designed to draw her back in. "Did you take my gift home with you or did you throw it away?" he asked, deceptively casually.

"Home. But don't think that means anything- it's not the plant's fault you're trying to worm your way back into my life."

The Daiyouki smiled to himself, obviously absurdly pleased. He began pursuing the street vendor's items right beside her, gazing at children's toys with a touch of gentleness in his steady gaze. Kagome was prepared to ignore him- until he leaned down, breath fanning 'accidentally' over her cheek as he picked up a doll and straightened.

"Do you remember Rin? And the other children-"

"Don't," Kagome said, unable to move away. She hated the thrumming of her skin so much. The way it cried out. Hated him.

Her skin flared alive, body humming with hunger. Like a shot of adrenalin to the heart, Kagome dipped her chin into her scarf to try and mask her escalating breathing due to his proximity. When they'd had sex- so many years ago- it hadn't been like human lovemaking.

He'd wired new pathways within her system via his youki. Sometimes she felt like it still lived inside her, having made a home for itself. They hadn't mated, but she felt irreversibly changed by it.

Kagome made a faint noise, squeezing her eyes shut.

Resist him-

"Kagome?"

Oh thank God.

"Ayumi, let's go," she said abruptly, facing her friend with an urgent look in her eyes.

Ayumi tilted her head slightly, eyeing Sesshoumaru curiously. "A-alright?"

"You do not need to leave," he turned, exuding a magnanimous air. "I am the one who intruded on your time, please continue," he gestured to the market, ensnaring Kagome's gaze with his own. Unblinking, unable to hide his more animalistic habits even after so many years.

"I hope to see you some other time when my presence does not disturb you," he said softly, walking away.

---

When entering work that Saturday, Kagome could already sense the buzz in the air. Someone had generously donated some priceless artefacts to their museum. The previously undiscovered finds that shaken everyone due to their rarity and mint condition. No one could stop talking about it.

Kagome's blood ran cold the second the items in question were described to her. Pushing through the crowd that had gathered, she stared in horror at the display case.

Itching for a fight, she immediately stormed to his office downtown, opening the door to reception and letting herself in. "Is Sesshoumaru here?" she burst, stopping in front of the secretary's desk.

"Mr Taisho?" the woman blinked, obviously thrown by the petite, angry miko currently glaring at her and using his name so informally. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No. Just tell him Kagome is here."

She was let into his office soon enough, trying to keep a lid on her crackling reiki. Sesshoumaru glanced up from his computer. "Miko? What a pleasant surprise."

Kagome slammed an article atop his desk. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped.

He raised a brow, briefly flicking his attention to the contents. A photo of red and white silks, coupled with polished spiked armour sat in a display unit. "Something wrong? It was just a donation, given in good faith."

"Donated to my workplace!" Kagome seethed, groaning and burying her face in her hands. "Don't you realise I'm going to have to see your things now every day? I've worn those clothes! I've slept in them as pyjamas! Are you trying to mess with me because you want me back?"

"That's a little dramatic, dear one, I'm not trying to 'mess with you.' It was just a donation," he rose from his seat, face inches from hers. "And if I wanted to romance you, I'd go about it much differently."

"Don't 'dear one' me," she snapped. "You could've donated that stuff years ago- or to a different museum. But no, you had to give it to mine."

"My gift was not meant to distress you, but," he rounded the table slowly, fingers dragging over the wood. "It does make me worry, seeing you so worn thin. Is something else going on? Separate from...us?"

Kagome stiffened, avoiding eye contact. Things with her boyfriend had been strained as of late, and the Daiyoukai's sudden appearance back into her life wasn't helping matters.

"There is no 'us.' I'm frustrated and exhausted, that's all. Don't make things even more complicated by asking about that stuff."

Sesshoumaru lingered close, and Kagome didn't shy away. The one person she couldn't bear to be near was also the only being who could offer some semblance of comfort to her due to his familiarity.

"This one meant to give you something," reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a business card, handing it over. Kagome immediately froze, staring at the name. "You miss him," Sesshoumaru murmured. "The kit lives in Kyoto now with his wife and children. Call him."

Tears pricked her eyes, and Kagome bowed her head. Full lips crumpled into a wobbly line.

"If there is something I regret more than our parting, it is that you felt compelled to leave. The fault lies with me."

Shaking her head, a saddened laugh bubbled up her throat. "It was my decision to break up, and it was my decision to leave the Feudal Era. Don't...blame yourself for that part."

"You did not do anything wrong," a long-fingered hand reached out, blunt nails losing their glamour. Sharp claws stroked dark curling hair back from her neck. Kagome's breathing hitched. "When we were together- you did not do anything wrong. We were both so young. It was foolish of me to act as I did, but I think it is now... that we are in the right place for something more."

Kagome shivered, body warming to him. Intuitively, the brush of fingers on her neck made her foolishly anticipate a kiss- sorely disappointed when it didn't come. "I'm not," she forced herself to say. Seeing the disappointment darken his brown eyes, she sighed. "I miss you," Kagome admitted quietly, turning away to escape from his touch. "I miss how... we were. I'm terrified of that, though. I was...under the impression we'd be together. Permanently. Then you had to go and tell me you needed 'pure' heirs to continue the family bloodline."

She laughed bitterly, loosely holding her arms. "The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I'm still in love with you."

"You are frightened that I will hurt you again."

Kagome nodded mutely. She then forced a giggle, giving a weak smile. "Besides, you may not like me as I am now. I'm more jaded than before."

"I like what I see very much," moving closer once more as though experiencing a gravitational pull, he stopped inches away. "I have missed you too," he muttered quietly, genuinely. She could feel him inhale her scent through her hair. "Very much."

Her mouth suddenly became dry. "I'm with Natsuki-"

"Leave him," a rush of passion entered his voice as Sesshoumaru swept closer, backing her into the desk. The wood dug into her thighs, their hips meeting. "This one is not interested in being 'the other man' in an affair. Nor am I interested in watching you remain with someone less than ideal," he snorted, resting his hand over her wrist and grazing his thumb over it.

"Y-you don't know anything about it!"

"I could smell your scent. It was not bright and cheerful even before I re-entered your life the other day. His feels...murky on you. Unhappy."

Kagome swallowed thickly, glancing away. "Observant as ever," she admitted softly.

"Or perhaps you did a poor job of hiding it," backing off a little- he rested his hip next to hers beside the desk, remaining near but barely touching. And yet everything felt so close. "You've changed. But you're still the same at your core, miko," hot breath fanned over her neck, teeth ghosting over the shell of her ear. "If you permitted me, I would not be reckless with your heart again, as I was in my youth."

Her palms traitorously slid up, sliding over firm muscles- running across his chest. He felt warm. His heart was beating fast. Was he nervous? Such a thing sounded impossible.

She bit her lip, secretly longing for the sensation of silks under her hands again instead of the modern cotton of his shirt.

"I don't know that I believe you," Kagome met his gaze, rewarded with the golden glow of his eyes instead of human brown.

"I've gotta go," she said reluctantly, forcing herself to pull away. "I need to be at work."

"Very well," he hummed, unmoving. "But if you...need something. You know where to find me."

He sounded almost desperate for an excuse to talk with her. Giving a curt nod, she let herself out of his office with a long breath, shaking her head. Sesshoumaru's static youki haunted her steps for the remainder of the day.

[ragingbookdragon]

The Accidental Wife PT. 3

A Bruce Wayne x Reader AU!

Warnings: None Author’s Note: And here is the last part I wrote to this ‘cause I didn’t have a clue where it was going! Enjoy! -Thorne

Time moved in slow motion as the patrol car pulled up to the curb, and Jason led a dazed (Y/N) into the lobby; he sat her down in the seat and moved to the desk. He placed his hands on the counter and leaned in. “I need to know where Richard Grayson is.” The lady’s eyes moved to his then back to her computer.

           “Name?”

           “Jason Todd.”

           “I can’t let you back without clearance. Sorry.” Jason blinked, stunned at the answer.

           “I’m sorry?” She looked up at him.

           “Your name isn’t listed on his medical records. I can’t help you. So, either leave or I’ll get security.” He felt his blood boil at her apathetic response, and he leaned in closer, pointing back at (Y/N).

           “Look lady, my brother got shot and was transferred here, my Ma is currently breaking down, and you’re not helping. Grow a heart and give me some directions.”

           “I’m not allowed-” A low voice cut her off.

           “You’re right, you’re not. But I’m Bruce Wayne, and I own this hospital. So, either you give me the information, or I’ll shut it down.” The woman’s eyes widened at his declaration, and she nodded frantically.

           “Yes sir, just give me a moment.” Bruce turned to Jason.

           “Go to your mother. I’ll take care of this.” Jason stared at him for a few seconds, before returning to (Y/N). He sat on her left, nodding at Tim who sat on her right; he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

           “It’s going to be alright Ma.” (Y/N) simply nodded, then Bruce stepped up.

           “He’s in the OR right now, it’s down the hall and to the right. Take (Y/N) over there while I keep getting information.” They nodded, maneuvering (Y/N) up out of the chair and down the hall. After a few moments, Bruce came into view down the hall; Tim glanced at him.

           “Mr. Wayne?” He raised a hand and knelt in front of (Y/N), taking her hands in his; he tipped his head until he caught her eyes.

           “(Y/N)?” Her eyes moved from his hands to his eyes and he smiled faintly. “Dick’s in the OR right now, but he’s in Dr. Mendez’s hands.” He paused and squeezed her hands. “Dr. Mendez was a friend of my father’s…she is without a doubt, one of the best surgeons in the world. There’s no one I’d trust more with Dick’s survival than with her. Okay?” (Y/N) nodded, then watched Bruce’s face become blurry as tears gathered in her eyes; he leaned up and (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his middle, burying her face in his shoulder. He glanced at her sons, whose faces showed sorrow for their mother and brother, then brought his arms around her, holding her as she sobbed.

           A few hours later, the doors to the OR opened and their heads turned to see an older woman walking out. Bruce rose from his seat and stepped over to her. “Tiana.” The woman smiled weakly at him and took his hand.

           “Bruce…good to see you.” He smiled, then (Y/N) stepped beside him.

           “My son…Dick…is he…alright?” She turned to (Y/N) and nodded.

           “Mr. Grayson is stable…but I’m afraid that’s all he is at the moment.” (Y/N) swallowed thickly and Bruce glanced at her.

           “What’s his condition Tiana?” She sighed.

           “Three bullets, all in the chest. We lost him twice on the table but managed to resuscitate him. The bullets were removed, but he’s lost so much blood, and the damage to his internal organs is severe.” She paused and looked at (Y/N), who looked devastated. “Ms. (L/N)…We’ve placed Richard on life support to keep him alive until his body is ready to take over again.”

           “Is he…going to…make it?” She looked down at her hands, then back to (Y/N).

           “I honestly don’t know Ms. (L/N)…the best thing to do is to hope that he’s strong enough to pull through.” She glanced at Bruce. “He’s in room one-thirty.” She turned back to (Y/N). “I am sorry Ms. (L/N).” (Y/N) nodded at her through the tears, and turned around, walking numbly in the direction of Dick’s room. She could hear her sons and Bruce walk behind her, then they stepped into the elevator; Jason leaned over and murmured to Bruce.

           “Is Dick okay?” Bruce sighed and explained, watching Jason’s face darken at the news.

           “Tiana said that all we can do is hope right now.” The doors opened and (Y/N) was the first out, moving towards his room. When they arrived, her hand fumbled for the doorknob, then she turned it; she stepped in and took in the sight of her oldest son lying silent, the only sound being the ventilator that kept him breathing. (Y/N) could see the bandages around his chest as she sank into the seat beside him; she reached over and took his hand, then looked down, whimpering,

           “He’s so cold.” Jason and Tim moved to her sides and leaned into her.

           “Dick’s going to be fine Mom.” Jason nodded at Tim’s words.

           “Yeah Ma…Dickie’s strong enough to get through this.” He leaned forward and looked at her. “Just think, in a few days, he’ll be up and moving, singing every eighties song Tim and I hate.” (Y/N) smiled, letting out a laugh despite the tears in her eyes, and she looked back to Dick; her hand shifted and rested on his forehead as she smoothed out his hair whispering,

           “Oh baby…my baby boy.” Her other hand came up and covered her eyes as she sobbed, and her sons simply held their mother. Bruce rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder, causing him to look up as he murmured,

           “I’ll leave you all for the night…I’ll come by tomorrow.” Jason nodded and Bruce turned, heading to the door, but stopping when Jason called out to him.

           “Bruce?” He turned, and Jason nodded, his voice solemn. “Thank you.” Bruce gave a small smile and exited the room, leaving a family to grieve.

           The next two weeks went by slowly, and (Y/N) found herself working morning shifts, then immediately going back to the hospital to be with Dick; Jason and Tim worked a schedule between them, going to school and work, but making sure someone was with Dick. (Y/N) sat next to Dick, a book in one hand, Dick’s hand in her other one. Her eyes scanned the page as she read to him, her thumb caressing his hand as she did. The days before were good ones as he’d been taken off the ventilator, and had woken up a few times, but he slept for long periods of time. His body is still healing, Dr. Mendez had said, he’ll be in and out of consciousness for a while, but he should make a recovery. (Y/N) had cried tears of joy the first time he’d woken up, even if he’d only stayed awake for a few seconds. Each time he woke up was longer than the last, and he’d began to hold conversations. (Y/N) continued to read until a weak grip felt along her hand; she looked up seeing Dick staring at her. She closed the book and set it beside her, leaning over. “Hi baby.” He smiled weakly at her.

           “Hi Mom.” She smiled and reached up, running her fingers through his raven locks; she huffed a laugh.

           “You need a haircut Dickie…hair’s getting long.” His smile widened ever-so-slightly, and he murmured,

           “Where’s Timmy and Jay?” Her fingers kept moving as she spoke.

           “Both had to go to school today, but they’ll be by later.” He nodded and she continued, “How do you feel baby?”

           “Tired.” She smiled faintly and he looked over at her, his voice thick with fear. “I was so scared Mom.” (Y/N) stopped, staring at him, and he continued. “I remember going to cuff him, but he shifted, and grabbed my gun.” Tears filled his eyes, but he kept going. “I pleaded with him not to shoot, but…” Dick stopped, tears running down his face, and (Y/N) moved to sit on the bed, leaning down to hug him. His arms came up under hers and wrapped around her back; (Y/N) pulled his head down to her shoulder and she shushed him.

           “Shh Dick…everything’s alright…you’re safe.”

           “All I could think about…was you and Tim and Jason…I wasn’t going to see you again.” (Y/N) glanced up at the ceiling, the tears leaking out of her eyes.

           “Everything’s fine baby…you’re here.” She felt him nod against her shoulder, and she pulled back, taking his hands; she stared at him then whispered, “This was my fault.” Dick’s eyes widened and he whispered,

           “What?” (Y/N) looked down and murmured,

           “Had I not gotten angry at you those few months ago…you never would’ve left Gotham.” Dick stared at his mother, before squeezing her hand.

           “Mom…I would’ve left Gotham anyway.” She looked up at him and he said, “I needed to get out on my own…our fight was something that spurred it.” (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond and he squeezed her hand again. “Mom you aren’t to blame for what happened to me.” (Y/N) shut her mouth and nodded, watching as he rested back against the pillows.

           “Tired?” He nodded, his eyelids beginning to droop; (Y/N) leaned forward and pressed her lips to his temple mumbling, “Get some rest baby…we’ll be here when you wake up.”

           “Love…you…mom.” She smiled as he drifted off to sleep, watching him for a few moments before rising and leaving the room. As she stood in front of the coffee machine, a hospital worker walked over.

           “Ms. (L/N)?” (Y/N) turned around.

           “Yes?” The woman handed her an envelope.

           “I was told to give this to you.” (Y/N) accepted the envelope and the woman walked off; she sat down in one of the chairs, opening it up. Her eyes widened at the contents, and she felt her breathing begin to stutter. She rose from her seat and made her way to the desk.

           “Excuse me?” The woman sitting behind looked up.

           “Yes ma’am? Can I help you?” (Y/N) handed her the sheet.

           “Is there…some kind of mistake here?” The woman took the sheet and read it before handing it back.

           “No ma’am. Why? Is something wrong?” (Y/N) looked at the sheet then back to the woman, whispering harshly,

           “Wrong?! It says we owe forty thousand dollars?!”

           “Ma’am that’s for the cost of the week and a half that you son was on life-support and the ventilator.” She looked down at the computer. “We can see if there are options for payment for you.” (Y/N) stepped away from the desk, moving back to Dick’s room in a daze.

           The day went on, with Jason and Tim both coming to see Dick; he’d managed to wake up for a few minutes to talk to them, and eventually, (Y/N) sent them home for the night. She stared at the sheet in her hand, listening to Dick’s even breathing when the door opened; she shoved the bill in her purse and looked to the door, seeing Bruce walk in. “Bruce?” He smiled at her.

           “Sorry I couldn’t come earlier…I had a meeting.” (Y/N) smiled and shook her head.

           “Don’t worry about it…you’ve been here practically everyday since he’s been here.” Bruce nodded to Dick.

           “Is he doing okay?” Her response was cut off as Dick mumbled in his sleep; she chuckled and rose from the seat, motioning to the door. Bruce followed her out and they walked down the hallway to the vending machines.

           “He’s doing good. He’s staying awake longer, and the doctor said if he gets better, he should be out in the next few days.”

           “That’s good.” (Y/N) nodded as Bruce pulled his wallet out and put in a dollar into the machine. “Tim’s doing well…despite what’s going on, he’s been keeping a clear head about work.” (Y/N) smiled.

           “Tim’s one of the most task-oriented people I know…he might not always have his priorities straight, but he means well.” Bruce snorted at her response.

           “I hear you.” He paused and turned to her. “How’s Jason?”

           “He’s good…other than me…he’s taken it the hardest.” The two of them reclined in the seats. “Before Tim came along, it was just him and Dick. Jason didn’t have a role model, so Dick became that to him…and the two of them became as thick-as-thieves.”

           “Best friends?” She smiled and nodded.

           “Through thick and thin, they’ve always had each other’s backs…but he knows that Dick’s going to be alright, so he’s taking it better now.” Bruce observed her for a moment.

           “And you?” (Y/N) looked at him.

           “I was worried about him…but now all I want is for him to get out of the hospital and back home.”

           “So why do you look like you’re going to be sick?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

           “Why do you say that?”

           “Because you look like something is seriously wrong.” (Y/N) stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and looking at her hands.

           “…The first bill is forty-thousand dollars.” Bruce nodded at this.

           “The life-support and ventilation?” She nodded and gestured to the air around them.  

           “I have no idea how I’m going to pay for this.”

           “Did you tell them?” (Y/N) scoffed.

           “Hell no. There’s no way in hell I could tell them this.”

           “You probably should (Y/N)…this affects them just as much as it affects you.” She looked back at her hands and mumbled,

           “I know.” There was silence between them, then Bruce murmured,

           “You know…there is a way for you to pay for that without spending a dime.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh and said,

           “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

           “I’ll pay for it.” (Y/N)’s head shot up and she stared at him in disbelief.

           “I’m sorry? Did you just say you’ll pay for it?” Bruce nodded.

           “I did.”

           “…Why?” Bruce shrugged.

           “Because you don’t have the money for it, and you need some help.” She opened her mouth to speak, but close it, and gazed at him.

           “So, what’s the catch?” He grinned and tipped his head back.

           “You’re smart aren’t you (Y/N)?”

           “You aren’t stupid enough to throw this out to me without wanting something in return Bruce…you are a businessman after all.” He nodded.

           “That I am…and I hand you a proposition…I pay for the bills and such…” He paused and looked at her. “And you agree to be my wife.” (Y/N) blinked at his words then questioned,

           “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

           “Be my wife.” She blinked again, too stunned to say anything; then, she rose and began walking away.

           “You’re nuts.” Bruce rose from the seat and chased after her; he gently grasped her upper arm and spun her around.

           “I might be nuts, but I’m one of the richest men alive…I can solve your problem (Y/N).”

           “By becoming your wife? No.”

           “Do you have any other options?” She shut her mouth and he continued. “You don’t have money to pay these bills, not between your, Dick, Jason, or Tim’s salaries. Your best option would be taking a loan to pay it, and that would put you in debt.” He paused. “Or…you let me help you.”

           “You can’t get married to someone you just met!”

           “Don’t be a Debbie-Downer Elsa.” (Y/N)’s eye twitched and he grinned. “Besides, we’ve known each other for a few months.”

           “Not the point! I can’t just get married to you! What will my kids think?! Hell, what would yours think?!”

           “It’s just for a few months (Y/N).” She stopped and eyed him.

           “What?” Bruce smiled.

           “I need to get married to avoid marrying someone else.”

           “And why’s that?” He sighed and released her.

           “My son’s grandfather, Ra’s, is pushing me to marry my son’s mother, but I’m not too inclined to do it.”

           “For?”

           “Well for one, she and I don’t exactly get along. She’s more focused on creating perfection than enjoying what’s around us.”

           “You sound like a child.” He glared at her and responded,

           “I’m not a child, I’m just thinking about whether I’d like to spend my life slamming my head into a wall or not.” Bruce sighed. “Look (Y/N), you become my wife just until Ra’s gives up with Talia, and then you go free.” She eyed him suspiciously.

           “That’s it? I just pretend to be your wife?” Bruce nodded.

           “That’s it. You act the part of prim and proper billionaire’s wife, and your medical bills go away. Then, we go our separate ways once it’s over.” (Y/N) stared at him for a few moments and he tipped his head. “I’ll even throw in twenty million dollars if that’s what it takes to make you say yes.”

           “Fifty and I’ll do it.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, then smirked.

           “You drive a hard bargain…” He took her hand and raised it, laying a kiss to her knuckles as he murmured, “Mrs. Wayne.”

[khaleesiofalicante]

in holt's voice: Pain. That's it.

Today hasn't been the best but HEY I HAD THESE PRECIOUS BABIES TO KEEP MY COMPANY

He looked exhausted like he hadn’t slept at all.

alec...

I'm already sad and ready to murder

the baby...

David had never lost someone he loved.

this is fucking foreshadowing isn't it

But real strength was not in surviving the presence of pain. Real strength was in suviving the absence of love.

despite the chaos I'm glad to see these two interacting

The Consul leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his beard. David had to admit, he looked damn good with it. Even if it made him seem even more intimidating than before.

yes boy YES

it's really hard not to smile right now but my camera is on and im supposed to be finding meanings of foreign words based on my own knowledge so-

JACKSON

“Max is too old for me to tell him what he is and isn’t allowed to do,” the Consul said – although he didn’t sound very happy about it.

MY TEACHER ASKED ME THE FIRST QUESTION IM LOSING MY SHIT

It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.

let's hope so

Facts and figures, babe, Max had kissed his cheek last night. Dad likes facts and figures.

deep breathes

it'll be ok

“You’ve done your research,” the Consul nodded. There was a hint of approval in his voice that made David want to do a cartwheel.

AWWWW

“I’d like to take care of the New York institute,” David said now. “Because Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild took care of me.”

And for the first time that evening, the Consul smiled. David wanted to burst into song.

AHHHH

this is beautiful

David couldn’t help but find that endearing. He wondered what it felt like to be loved like that. He wondered what it felt like to have a father like that – a father who couldn't stop loving his child even for a moment.

A love that was endless and tireless.

Every time he was in the presence of the Lightwood-Bane family he was reminded of what he had lost and what every child deserved.

It made him sad.

But then he would remember. He would remember that Max had grown up knowing nothing but this. Max had grown up with nothing but love.

It made him happy.

alright come here let me hug you

UHUHSCUICDUH "Why do you not like me"

“I know I worry too much about Max,” the Consul said, his smile sad now. “But I can only worry now. I won’t always be there to worry over him.”

it's 9 am boy

THESE TWO REALLY BE ASKING THE TRUE QUESTIONS

"Why are you scared of me" HSUHYUKDUMKDS WELL YOU SEE-

all we can really do is replace the bad memories with happier ones...

“No,” the Consul said, and David’s heart almost stopped. “I mean, of course I care. But I don’t have to be hard on you to show you that I do. There are many ways to show people we care about them without hurting them.”

David thought of his father then. He remembered the way his father had drawn the agony rune on his wrist and promised him it was because he loved David and wanted him to be strong. The memory hurt.

Jace and Clary bestest

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to intimidate you,” the Consul apologized.

that is so alec oh my god 😭

David looked him in the eye. “You’re Alec Lightwood.”

The man looked confused. “Is that supposed to mean something?

I'm smiling so much right now because yeah

yeah I get what he's saying

David hadn’t known that boys were allowed to kiss other boys – not until he heard about Alec Lightwood’s Accords Hall kiss.

David hadn’t known fairy tales existed outside of books - not until he heard about Alec Lightwood adopting a warlock baby with Magnus Bane.

David hadn’t known love can literally change the world – not until he heard about Alec Lightwood changing the world for the man he loved.

don't make me cry during linguistics

“Well,” the Consul chuckled. “To be entirely honest, I did all of that for Magnus.”

as he should

“Everything I have ever done has always been for Magnus,” the Consul said, his voice oddly soft.

we're talking about some wall in class and im here trying not to cry

my teacher just asked why some of us have our cameras off WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

“I don’t want to be a hero,” David confessed honestly. “I just thought if I ran away to a city full of heroes, they would protect me if someone tried to hurt me again.”

“What’s that?” the Consul frowned, pointing at his neck.

By the angel! David was going to have words with Max when he saw him again.

“Uh,” David said. “Mosquito bite.”

AHHHHHHHH MOSQUITO BITE

“Do you remember when Izzy got attacked by a demon in Edom?”

“And you drank my blood,” the Consul rolled his eyes.

“Aw,” the Dean of the Academy chuckled. “You do remember.”

poor David is stuck between them talking like this IM SCREAMING

He remembered the way Consul had blamed himself when Max had found the spoils room at the York Institute. The way he had believed he should have done better when his eldest son had been traumatized by foul rumours of the Clave.

oh honey no

There were people who got mad at themselves when things went wrong.

There were people who got mad at everyone around them when things went wrong.

While Alec Lightwood was the former, his son and David’s boyfriend, was definitely the latter.

I'm definitely both

“It wasn’t your fault,” David spoke up then. “When bad things happen to people, it’s because of the people who did those bad things. We shouldn’t atone for someone else’s sins.”

“Yeah. Stop atoning, dude,” the Dean said chuckled. “Listen to the boy.”

YES EVERYONE LISTEN TO DAVID

“And be careful,” the Consul said, his tone a little different now.

“I will keep an eye on-”

“No,” the Consul said and pointed at the hickey on David’s neck. “With Max. Be careful.”

David was pretty sure his face on fire.

OH MY GOD

IM SHAKING

“Um, we have the internet,” David pointed out.

The Consul blinked. “Right. Of course. The internet.”

yes

ao3 and Wattpad

KIDS DON'T GO ON THESE WEBSITES AT 11 JUST DO NOT

“If he gives you a hard time, don’t give up,” the man whispered like it was a secret. “You just need to weasel your way into his life.”

David chuckled. “Is that what you did?”

yup

“Yeah, and then he had the audacity to get accidentally get drunk and confess his love in the middle of the night.”

AWW SHE'S TELLING GIGI ABOUT THEIR PAST

“I did have a latte,” her mother said with a straight face.

Georgia didn’t find that funny.

I almost said "BECAUSE IT'S NOT FUNNY" before I realized that is exactly what I would've said

She knew her mother, like so many other people in her life, preferred to use humour to cope with the pain. They preferred to hide their pain away from other people.

Georgia never understood why people did that. Did they think others didn’t know what pain felt like? Everyone was in pain all the time – some kind of it at least. Everyone knew how to cope with it. So, it made more sense to share it than to carry it all by yourself.

i...I never look at it that way

Apparently, hand holding had special healing abilities at times like this.

yeah it really does

Georgia had hoped to find out herself. She had wondered so much about the baby.

tears. literal tears

It didn’t matter that Georgia had wanted to name the baby Abigail after the first iron sister. It didn’t matter that her father wanted to name the baby Jonathan to piss off Uncle Jace.

Abigail Jonathan Lightwood-Lovelace

FUCK OFF AND LET ME CRY IN PEACE

People said that poison was a coward’s weapon. But Georgia didn’t think so. It wasn’t easy to make poison. It wasn’t easy sneak it into the right place at the right time.

Whoever did this, they were not cowards. They were smart and they should be feared.

yeah, what did happen during the trial?

uh is Selena ok?

like genuinely

is she just a very heavy sleeper or...

MARYSE

Because sometimes the only comfort you needed was your mom.

yeah...

Except for random parts of the house that were incredibly organized – a sign Uncle Jace had been there

Yup.

“I’m staying in New York, mom. I’m going to help Selena and the centurions find out who did this to me,” her mother said, her words a promise. “And once I do, I’m going to strangle them with my whip.”

Yes you will

Anjali and Rafe

please be ok. please

HOW ABOUT WE DO A TRADE

ZARA'S LIFE FOR ANJALI'S 😄

ok I know that's not how it works but IM DESPERATE

her bedroom seems amazing though

Rafael gave so much shit to his dad because the other man had the habit of watching his husband sleep.

But now he sort of understood the fascination.

AWWWWW

“You do ballet?” he asked, holding up the ballet shoes.

slightly reminds me of rosa

OK WHO AM I KIDDING SHE TOTALLY DOES

the red binder

it's fucking genius

David can keep his flowers and cookies and scarves.

This, what he held in his hands right now, was the best thing anyone could ever give him. A file full of reforms to make the clave better.

IM SCREAMING

“You think I want to die and leave the Council in your cishet hands?”

YES BESTIE

“I don’t care what the Clave needs,” Rafael snapped, and Anjali momentarily looked taken aback. “I need you.”

he needs her

FUCK IT TIME TO CRY

“Bulgaria is known as the land of roses,” Rafael told her. “The Sofia Institute is built in the middle of a rose garden.”

“Oh,” Anjali’s eyes momentarily softened. “I like roses.”

you know that tiktok trend? the one which goes "listen it's a good joke it's a great joke even but i need you to stop" or smth like that?

yeah

His hand was itching to reach out and hold hers. So, he did just that. He reached out – very carefully – and took her hand in his own.

“I need you to get better, Anjali,” he whispered. “Cause I would very much like to take you there.”

HAND HOLDING

no she's not becoming a vampire

The part that was the shadowhunter – which told him she didn’t deserve to die over some angelic mishap.

The part that was the future Consul – which told him he needed Anjali on his side.

The part that was a Lightwood-Bane – which told him he should never give up fighting.

And then there was the part that was Rafael – just Rafael.

It told him he had to save his heart – no matter the consequences.

we're talking about some powerplant in geography and I'm crying over this

Anjali please please don't die

“Not everything,” Rafael told her. “I know someone who can help.”

WHO

GIVE ME A NAME

“Well, now we don’t know that for sure!” Max grinned. “Who knows what they get up to? Maybe there is someone occasional boning in the bone city.”

“How does manage to get more insufferable every time I meet him?” Jackson demanded.

i...never looked at it that way

OH JACKSON IS BECOMING A SILENT BROTHER

Max grinned widely at the other boy. “You wanna be my immortal buddy, Jack-Jack?”

OOP-

“The boys are back” he yelled, hugging David and Jackson. “Ty, our boys are back! Yas! The London Boys are back!”

THE LONDON BOYS

“Okay it’s a little disrespectful when you call her by the same name you call me,” Max pointed out.

“True,” Jackson nodded. “Irene shouldn’t be disrespected like that.”

YUYZXYSCGYZCGYUCUIZCVUH SCREAMING

"It’s hard being a celeb,” Max sighed dramatically.

“He is referring to the chaos you unleashed the last time you went there,” Jackson rolled his eyes. “People still remember you.”

“I’m memorable. It’s not my fault,” Max shrugged.

Max no more gambling bestie

“If the assassination attempt on Magnus had been successful, we wouldn’t be sitting and talking like this,” Kit pointed out. “The nephilim and downworlders would be at war.”

As they should. No one hurts Magnus

“So the target isn’t just Magnus Bane?” Jackson asked.

“Possibly,” Ty nodded. “The Consul and his husband…They are the ones who united the shadow world – with the Alliance. With their marriage. So, it’s not surprising that someone – seelie or not – wants to break it all down.”

with every line, I get closer to a breakdown

“There are people all around me to protect me from demons and crazy assassins,” Max smiled. “But you…You protect me from myself. So, don’t give me that I’m not good at protecting bullshit.”

so precious...

“Now let’s go find out which dumbass thought it would be a good idea to try and kill Magnus Fucking Bane.”

i have a few torture methods in mind

If shadowhunters couldn’t fight demons, it would put both downworlders and mundanes in danger. His father’s Clave – small as it was – did their best to keep the demons at bay. They were the only thing keeping the shadow world safe from demons.

Ikr?? Like David said earlier Alec's clave is literally the one doing the actual shadowhunting.

“Jackson is incredibly smart and perceptive. He knows what is good for him, David. He chose you to be his best friend. He has accepted that his family is gone for good and is finally focusing on his future. If this is what he wants to do and if this is who he wants to be, then you should trust that he has thought this through. He wouldn’t have chosen this life if he thought he wouldn’t be happy with it.”

TRUE

ALRIGHT WHO TF IS BEHIND ALL THIS

i just want to talk 🙂

“Great,” Max said, feeling frustrated. “So, someone created a fancy new poison just to kill my parents.”

“They did say something else,” Kit said, his tone worried. “The poison…It’s not entirely made of demonic properties.”

“Oh?” David said.

“It’s a mixture of angelic and demon properties,” Ty Blackthorn said. “And we know that-”

“Seelies,” Max whispered. “They have both angel and demon blood.”

Is anyone else scared?

GASP

WHAT IF

It's an angel and prince of hell working together?

ok that seems highly unlikely

“I don’t think you have a choice, bud,” Kit giggled. “Mina will have your head if you don’t get married. She has been working on a Pinterest board for years now.”

KIT

KIT

WHAT THE FUCK

OH MY GOD KIT

NO NO NO

HE CAN'T BE DEAD

NO FUCK NO

I'm absolutely loving all this angst so much. You said chapter 9 was the most angsty and frankly I can't wait :p

now...IF KIT AND ANJALI DIE I WILL BE VERY VERY SAD but the angst potential with Anjali though...NOPE NOPE NOPE. MY GIRL'S GONNA BE INQUISITOR I KNOW SHE WILL.

AHHHHHH THIS CHAPTER WAS A LOT LMAO.

I love how you are complaining but also thirsting for angst yall crazy.

I hope you are taking care of yourself and working on your entry for the competition!!!!!

Also the "we're talking about some wall in class" killed me lmao I laughed so hard fdhvjd.

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 61

Masterlist

----

Initially, moving everyone to Cretea seemed like a brilliant solution to a terrible situation. In practice, though, it soon turns out that there are about a hundred problems attached that Miryam didn’t see coming at the first glance.

The first issue is, obviously, that most of their people do not want to move to Cretea. In spite of knowing about Shey and the other Fae members of the Alliance wanting them dead, the Seraphim still thought they would be able to return home to Erithia, and they are understandably reluctant to leave their home behind. The idea of moving to an island that is considered holy in their religion does little to ease their unhappiness, either. Meanwhile, the humans are theoretically fine with moving to some island they never heard of before, but are far from pleased at the prospect of having to share that island with a group of Fae.

Convincing everyone to go along with the plan takes days, and it only works because the alternative is to risk getting murdered. There are several concessions that need to be made, though. For one, it quickly becomes apparent that the Seraphim will only agree to come along if their friends and families can come as well. That was not initially something Miryam and Drakon had planned for – no need to drag more people than absolutely necessary into it, after all – but the Seraphim refuse to leave otherwise, and so they have no choice but to spirit the hundreds of thousands of Erithians still waiting in Erithia away to their camp. The attack they stage to cover their tracks is not exactly a good trick, but they hope that in the general chaos ensuing all over the Continent right now, no one will think to double-check.

Meanwhile, the humans come up with a few demands of their own to assure their safety. Most importantly, they downright refuse to be ruled over by any Fae. (“No offence to your husband,” Niria, who relays the decision to Miryam, says, “He seems nice enough, but he’s still Fae.”) Miryam would have picked Niria for the job of leading the humans, but everyone else seems to agree that it will obviously be her who takes up the role, and she has to admit that it’s convenient for an eventual unity within their soon-to-be-formed country to have the rulers of the Fae and humans already married to each other. Eventually, they might actually manage to get a unified government for all people living on Cretea, but for the moment, it is agreed upon that humans and Fae will be governed separately, with an option of merging the two governments eventually should both sides agree.

By the time they finally move on to the next issue (how to get everyone to Cretea), the Continent has already completely dissolved into chaos. They had to pull in most of their spies, but Andromache, who drops by almost every day, keeps them well-informed.

“It is a mess,” she says one day, looking drained enough that Miryam wordlessly hands her a mug of tea and gently pushes her towards the nearest chair. “Millions of people on the move everywhere. All roads are crowded, and the soldiers are busy day and night trying to keep the violence between groups at bay. And we still haven’t got any idea where to put most of these people.”

For the most part, Miryam just tries not to think about it. She doesn’t want to imagine these millions of people who are forced to leave their homes and travel through the entire Continent into the unknown, doesn’t want to think that this was not the future she was hoping for when she dreamt of what a world after the war might look like. (We won, she reminds herself. That’s all that really counts. Any other problems, we will find a way to deal with.)

There are many things she is trying very hard not to think too much about. Her death, for example. Or the wall that will soon go up and the people who will have to die for it to happen. Or how the entire mess the world has been turned into is, in some way, because of her. During the days when she is too busy to spend much time thinking, it works for the most part. At night, it’s a different matter.

At the end of the day, she’s still one of the lucky ones, though. Unlike so many others, at least she isn’t losing her home. Of course, there are places she will miss, Erithia and Telique for one. But she never truly had a place she considered home, not really, so there is no home for her to lose now. Her home were always other people, and most of those will be coming with her.

It more difficult for Drakon. He is trying very hard to pretend that he is enthusiastic about moving to Cretea to set a good example for his people, but Miryam can tell that losing Erithia is tearing him apart. That is definitely her fault in a way, just as the fact that his right arm still hurts and none of the healers they talked to has been able to do anything about it is because of her. (Well, the blame for that last thing lies with Daín for the most part, but he had the good sense to stay away so far. Miryam is sure that will change soon enough, though, given what she knows about him.)

Drakon and her settle into a rhythm of sorts together. During the days, they pretend everything is fine. At nights, when they are alone in their tent, they allow themselves to mourn, to be scared and in pain. It probably isn’t ideal, but Miryam supposes they will have all the time in the world to deal with what they lost once everyone is safe and settled on Cretea.

----

Miryam is asleep in their tent, or at least pretending to be, but Drakon gave up on trying to sleep after having spent two hours tossing and turning on his mattress. His right arm still hurts, pain shooting up from the fingertips to the shoulder at any movement, which makes sleeping difficult.

Instead, he leaves the camp, nodding to the guards as he passes them, and sits down on a flat stone by the shore still within the wards Miryam set up around the camp. Tiny waves are lapping around his feet. Drakon picks up a handful of pebbles and starts tossing them into the water, sending ripples running over the surface.

He is just about to pick up a second hand of stones when a reflection appears in the water. He looks up and finds a dark-haired man with dark skin and blue robes floating above the water. So he did come, just as Miryam predicted.

“Ghost,” he says, only to remember a heartbeat later that the being in front of him is called Daín.

“Hello Drakon,” Ghost – no, Daín, remember it already – says quietly.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and Drakon only stares at him. Miryam told him about what happened after he resurrected her, but he still cannot quite believe that the man before her is the second-most important being in his religion. (Although given that his goddess apparently wants him dead, he might want to reconsider his religion as well. There are many things he needs to reconsider, it seems.)

“How… how are you doing?” Daín finally asks.

“Good,” Drakon says in a too-casual tone. “Thanks for asking. You might want to avoid Miryam for the time being, though. She’s furious with you.”

“Miryam, huh?” Daín asks. “And you?”

Drakon shrugs with his good shoulder. “My arm still hurts.” Understatement of the century. “I can barely hold a pen. How do you think I am feeling?”

Daín’s form dims slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s what I actually came to tell you. I didn’t mean…” He breaks off, then starts again. “I regretted it the moment I did it.”

“Why did you do it, then?” Drakon asks.

That’s what has been bugging him ever since. Admittedly, he isn’t the best at judging people, but he still thought he could trust Ghost. They weren’t exactly friends, but he still thought they liked each other. That he was apparently so wrong stings.

“Because I couldn’t spend the rest of eternity stuck in that cave,” Daín says, voice rising slightly. “I just couldn’t.”

“But we had promised to get you out,” Drakon says. He doesn’t like how small his voice sounds. This would probably be easier if he was angry.

“And how would you have done that, with Miryam dead?” Daín shakes his head. “Any possible way to ever free me – be it in combination with resurrecting Miryam or just cutting me loose – involved you using the sword. I didn’t want this, I swear I didn’t, but it was my only chance.”

“Ah,” Drakon says, nodding slowly.

He hadn’t considered that. It makes sense, though, and it being the reason for why Daín did what he did is actually a relief. It means that Daín didn’t hate him, didn’t fake friendliness to manipulate him into freeing him from the beginning – Drakon didn’t misjudge him that badly, after all – he just wanted to get out of the cave. After eight thousand years of being trapped there alone, it is certainly something Drakon can sympathize with. He doesn’t exactly approve (his arm hurts too much for that), but he has a hard time blaming Daín.

“And you…” Daín continues, “you wanted to save Miryam so badly. Initially, I wasn’t going to help you, but you practically begged me and so – “

“And so you thought it was fine to lie to me?” Drakon asks, annoyed again. He understands why Daín didn’t give him the choice, but there’s really no reason for Daín to act like he was doing him a favour, or like he was justified in taking away his choice on the matter. “If you were so sure I would do it anyways, you could have just told me the truth.”

“I – “ Daín begins, but he is cut off by a voice from behind.

“Are you actually apologizing because you feel bad, or just because your little plan to free yourself didn’t go quite as planned and you need me to not hate you, Daín?”

Drakon turns around to Miryam who is leaning against a tree behind him, arms crossed so tightly she looks like she is moments away from accidentally snapping them.

“Can’t sleep?” Drakon asks by way of greeting and moves aside a bit on his stone to make space for her.

“As usual.” Miryam pushes off her tree and goes to sit next to him. Arms still crossed, she turns to glare at Daín. “Still waiting for your answer.”

Daín still seems to be processing what Miryam just said to him. He is hanging entirely still in the air, not even blinking. At Miryam’s words, he snaps out of it, though.

“I really do want to apologize,” he says. “I would have come even if I had been freed fully, instead of just being tied to you instead of the sword. And I would still want you to not hate me even if I was able to move more than a mile away from you at a time.”

Miryam snorts. “Yeah, it must be terribly inconvenient. All that work to get free, only to end up tied to one of the people you betrayed to get what you want.”

She is very good at only letting anger and coldness show right now, but Drakon knows that she was as hurt by Daín’s betrayal as he was, and that she isn’t pleased at all by having him bound to her now. Under different circumstances, Drakon thinks she might have decided to be more charitable about the entire situation and give Daín a second chance, but it seems she decided to be angry for both of them about Daín nearly getting him killed.

“Besides,” Miryam continues, “your apologies hardly undo what you did.”

Now, Drakon does feel the need to interject. He is almost beginning to feel bad for Daín.

“It was nice of him to explain, though,” Drakon says. “I can’t even blame him, honestly.”

Miryam twists around to face him, looking outraged. “What?” She asks. “You can’t be serious.”

Drakon shrugs. “He wanted a way out of that cave. I understand that. And if I had just let him out earlier instead of leaving him trapped there all alone just because I was scared to break tradition, none of this would have happened, so at least part of the blame for the entire situation lies with me.”

“Using the sword would still have killed you, though!” Miryam is clearly trying to keep her voice calm, but she doesn’t succeed entirely. “That was his plan from the beginning. How can you just be willing to overlook that?”

In spite of himself, Drakon finds himself smiling. It has been an ongoing discussion between the two of them in the last weeks which one of them is putting to little importance into their own wellbeing. Drakon feels that Miryam is brushing off the fact that she died and the related trauma too easily and also spends far too much time blaming herself and too little blaming others for everything that happened. In turn, Miryam thinks that Drakon should focus less on her and more on how he almost died and also lost his home.

In the end, they are probably both right. It seems that they are both painfully alike in that they never quite manage to place enough importance on their own lives.

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Daín objects, making Drakon turn to face him again. “I didn’t want to hurt Drakon, that’s why I stopped suggesting he use the sword after a while!”

Miryam looks like she already has a reply ready for that, but Drakon cuts in before she gets the chance. “I think we aren’t going to solve this today,” he says. “What I’d like to know, though, is how you ended up in that cave. The true story. And how you know the Mo… Étain.”

That stops Miryam from saying whatever was just on her mind. She has been dying to know the details of Daín’s and Étaín’s past, and she evidently cares more about that than about telling Daín off yet again.

“Alright,” Daín says. He seems relieved at the chance to change the subject. “Then let’s start at the beginning. From my understanding, it is Fae belief that I am a Fae who was chosen as a consort by Étaín, who is the goddess who created this world.”

Drakon nods, internally bracing himself. He has a feeling he isn’t going to like whatever is coming next. He was never go-to-the-temple-daily religious, but he did care about it. The years of war didn’t exactly improve his relationship with his goddess, but he can’t shake the feeling that this will be worse still.

“The Fae, as usual, were wrong on both counts,” Daín says. “Étaín and I are both members of a species called Aín. We are born from the universe itself, made from the strings that make up its essence and have powers that are – although any Aín I can think of would consider the comparison an insult – similar to the powers witches exhibit. Although the more correct way to put it considering the history would be that the witches have powers that are a faint echo of ours.”

“Sounds pretty god-like to me,” Drakon mutters.

“That’s an interesting question, isn’t it?” Daín asks, perking up. “What is a god?” He seems genuinely excited at the question. “You see, there is no clear answer. If we define it as a ‘being of great power that is worshipped as a deity’, one might consider Miryam to be a goddess, provided she got herself some worshipers, and – “

“Can we get back to the subject at hand?” Miryam asks sharply. Drakon cannot tell if she is just annoyed with Daín in general, wants him to continue his story, or doesn’t like the goddess-comparison. Probably a mixture of all three.

Daín winces. “Sure. Anyways, long story short, Étaín grew tired of simply visiting worlds and watching life there as a spectator. She wanted… well, I suppose that no longer matters. She took over one of the worlds – this one – and began to shape it to her liking, using the Cauldron, a magical item she created, to anchor the spell she used. She never particularly cared about the world’s original inhabitants – the humans, as I am sure you already guessed – but there was a bunch of invaders from another world – the Fae – who were all too happy to worship her as a goddess when she had prepared this world so well for them. And Étaín quickly found that she enjoyed being worshipped as a goddess.”

Drakon groans and buries his face in his hands. He prepared himself for the worst, but this is worse than anything he considered possible. His ancestors were invaders who stole this world from the humans and then proceeded to enslave him, his goddess the one who helped them, and –

“And what was your role in all this?” Miryam asks.

“I was her best friend,” Daín says without looking at Miryam. “And then I was her lover and her husband.”

“So you helped her.” Miryam has her arms crossed again and seems to be growing increasingly angry as the conversation progresses.

“No. But I didn’t stop her either, and that’s almost as bad.” Daín sighs. “It took me far too long to realize that she was wrong, and to start acting against her. I only changed my mind when I met Rashida. But from then on, I worked with the humans against Étaín. Well, mostly against the Fae, but Étaín backed them, so it made little difference. I managed to keep it secret for centuries, but she found out eventually. When she did, we fought. And we hurt each other badly enough that we were both reduced to this.” He gestures at himself. “Powerless. Mere shades of what we once were, forced to remain stuck in this world forever without ever having the power to influence it again.”

Drakon curses softly and runs a hand through his hair. Wonderful. So everything he believes was one giant lie. Well, not everything, of course, but still quite a lot. A lot of really important things.

Miryam nods slowly. “Interesting story. We’ll think about it.”

“There’s more still,” Daín says. “So much you do not know yet.”

“Maybe some other day,” Miryam says. “I’d rather be alone with Drakon now, though.”

Daín nods. “Of course. And I truly am sorry.”

Miryam doesn’t react. Drakon might have offered some acknowledgement, but he is still chewing on what Daín just told him. After waiting another heartbeat, Daín disappears into thin air.

Drakon turns to Miryam. His first instinct is to apologize, to offer some kind of comment about what Daín just revealed about his ancestors, but Miryam likely wouldn’t care about that. She didn’t the first time around, and she doubts he will now.

Miryam is the one who breaks the silence. “I can’t believe you are actually considering to forgive him,” she says, but she is smiling as she shakes her head slightly.

Ah. So this is what they are talking about. “And you?” Drakon asks. “Are you just going to hate him forever? Might be inconvenient, given that he is tied to you. He’ll have to be around a lot.”

Miryam laughs. “Unfortunate, isn’t it? I guess I’ll have to put that on the list of things I will eventually have to deal with. Sometime after we’ve made sure our people get through the next year without starving, I imagine.”

Drakon smiles back at her. “At least it won’t be boring?” He offers.

“Oh, definitely,” Miryam says and takes his hand. “At the rate things are going, we’ll be lucky if we ever get so much as a single boring day in our lives.”

“There’s a lot to be done until we get there, though,” Drakon says and jumps to his feet. “Houses to build and fields to plant. A country to create from scratch.” He offers her a hand to help her up.

Miryam takes the offered hand and lets him pull her to her feet. “Sounds fun. We better find a way to get everyone to Cretea safely first, though.”

----

Moving over to Cretea turns out to be less of a challenge than Miryam initially anticipated. Lacking ships and unable to purchase new ones for secrecy reasons, they had to rely on magic to get them across the ocean and onto the island. The entire matter (disabling the wards to even allow people onto the island and then creating a spell that allows about a million people to transfer to the island) took Miryam four days and no less than six trips to Cretea.

The spell she ended up with is hardly a work of art – it’s a one-way bridge of sorts between their camp and Cretea, and only ten people can pass through at a time and the transfer over to Cretea takes about thirty seconds, meaning that they need to have the spell running for well over a month to get everyone over to the island – but it is functional. A month is long, yes, it seems like a small price to pay for a relatively safe and comfortable way of travelling. Especially compared to what the millions of people on the Continent who also lost their homes have to deal with.

On the last day before the first people will start leaving for Cretea, Andromache visits again. Drakon is busy explaining the logistics of everything to the group of soldiers that will pass through the wall first, and so it’s just the two of them sitting together in Miryam’s tent.

“So, how are you doing?” Andromache asks.

Miryam shrugs. “Getting used to everything.” She doesn’t say that the nightmares are bad again, or that she feels so terribly guilty for all these people having to leave their homes, or that she is terrified of what the future might hold.

Andromache is kind enough to leave it at that and not call attention to her lie. “You’re leaving with the first group tomorrow?” She asks instead.

“Yes.” Miryam nods to the necklace Andromache is still wearing around her neck. “That will still bring you to me whenever you want. I’m hoping to see you again even when we’ve left the Continent.”

“I’ll come visit,” Andromache says with a sad smile.

Neither of them says that Andromache will have a very limited amount of time where she is even able to visit. The evacuations will probably take a few months still, but once the Wall goes up, there will be no more visits. Because there will be no more Andromache.

It is a subject both of them have carefully avoided in the last weeks. The knowledge that the wall spell will require the lives of the six human queens to come into function is always there, standing between them, but Miryam hasn’t yet found the courage to address it and Andromache doesn’t seem interested in bringing it up either.

Miryam reaches into her jacket and pulls out a second necklace. “And it would be great if you could give this to Mor. Tell her that I’d like to see her again sometime.”

Andromache frowns at the necklace in Miryam’s hand, then reluctantly takes it. “Is this your way of making me talk to Mor again?”

“This is my way of making sure a friend of mine doesn’t spend the rest of her life blaming herself for my death, and of possibly clearing up our argument,” Miryam replies. “Although I do wish you two would talk things out.”

Andromache makes a face at Miryam. “I don’t.”

“It was just an argument, Andromache. And it was halfway my fault, anyways, for not warning Mor of what I was going to do. It’s really not worth breaking up over.”

And Miryam feels terrible that this argument led to two of her friends breaking up. She never wanted that to happen, and she doesn’t think Mor deserves it. What she has said hadn’t exactly been kind, but given what Miryam had done, it hadn’t been unwarranted, either. Miryam doesn’t regret her actions, but she also cannot blame anyone for hating her for them.

“Well, it’s not your relationship so you don’t get to decide that,” Andromache mutters. When Miryam just watches her in silence, she sighs. “Besides, I’m not breaking up with Mor over the argument the two of you had. I’m breaking up with her because of the general implications of her behaviour.”

“You don’t really think Mor is anything like Shey,” Miryam says.

“No. But I don’t think I can imagine a relationship with her either. Not anymore.” Andromache shrugs. “I mean, even if I wasn’t going to die in that spell, I think it would be better for things to end here. Especially with the wall soon going up, there is little point in investing in a relationship I am unsure about.”

“Either way, you should talk to her sometime,” Miryam says. “You won’t get many chances to clear things between you up anymore, and such things shouldn’t be put off too long.” She thinks of Jurian and all the things she never got the chance to say to him and adds, “Talking from experience.”

Andromache sighs and closes her hand around the necklace. “I’ll give it to Mor,” she says. “And I’ll see. About the conversation.”

Miryam nods. “That’s all I am asking.”

----

Almost two weeks after Miryam gave it to her, Andromache still carries the charmed necklace she was meant to give to Mor around with her. She intended to give it to Mor right away, but somehow, the opportunity never arose. With the entire Continent dissolved into complete chaos, refugee trails running from one side to the other, she simply didn’t have much time for private conversations. Besides, Mor wasn’t in Telique as much as before, meaning they rarely saw each other either way.

Alright. If Andromache is being entirely honest, she didn’t exactly put much effort into meeting her, either. She could easily have sent a letter and asked Mor to come visit, but the truth is that she simply doesn’t want to talk to her. Having a few weeks to think everything through helped calm her anger into a manageable extent – which was, of course, helped by the fact that Miryam and Drakon turned out to be alive and… well, not quite well, but well enough, she suppoes – but that still doesn’t mean she’s just going to forgive Mor. Not for her behaviour and not for the mindset behind it.

Talking to Mor now would mean having to deal with that, and she simply doesn’t have the energy to explain to her where her problem is. If Mor doesn’t figure it out herself, it’s hardly up to Andromache to help her.

She promised Miryam, though. And Miryam also has a point that some things ought to be settled in due time. So as the date when the wall is scheduled to go up (which will, as it happens, also mean Andromache’s death), she finally makes herself approach Mor after a meeting in Telique.

“We need to talk,” she says by way of greeting, making Mor spin around to her, the papers she was just studying forgotten. Before she can say anything else, Andromache adds, “Meet me in half an hour in our usual spot.”

With that, she turns around and stalks off.

Their usual spot is one of the palace’s private gardens, this one belonging traditionally to Angolere. Usually, it is visited by courtiers from her country, but with everyone so busy lately, it is entirely empty when Andromache arrives. She still walks around once to check, then sits down on a bench under a willow and waits.

Mor arrives five minutes later. She is clearly nervous, fiddling around with the sleeve of her dress as she walks. Andromache nods to the seat beside her and waits until Mor has put up a ward around them before pulling the necklace out of her pocket and holding it out to her.

The explanation she offers is quick and hard. She only offers the bare bones of the situation. Miryam, Drakon and the others are alive, they are hiding, Miryam wants Mor to visit. She does not mention Shey, or the fact that Miryam died. If Mor wants to know about these things, she will have to speak to Miryam about it.

Halfway through her explanations, Mor begins to cry. Andromache does not put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Part of her wants to, but that would send a signal to Mor she doesn’t want to send, and so she simply finishes her explanation and then waits for Mor to stop crying.

Maybe it was wrong of her to wait this long before giving the news to Mor. Letting her go on for weeks still thinking Miryam, Drakon and the others are dead was cruel, perhaps. Did she truly do it because she did not want to speak to Mor, or was it some sort of punishment? It bothers Andromache that she cannot tell and she vows to herself to do better. She once loved Mor dearly – for all that she made mistakes, she does not deserve cruelty, or punishment.

“So things between us…” Mor begins, hesitantly. “Things are fine again? We’re good.”

Andromache’s initial reaction is to snap at her, but she promised herself to be kind about this from now on, if only to make up for not delivering Miryam’s message earlier. This is, although Mor doesn’t yet know it, their final conversation. And Andromache wants a neat resolution to this, one that will leave her knowing she did everything right. She doesn’t want to be angry with Mor anymore. She just wants this settled and then she wants to move on.

“No,” she says as gently as she can manage. “I never blamed you for Miryam’s death, and so her not being dead changes nothing at all.” Mor looks completely crestfallen. She doesn’t say anything else, so it’s up to Andromache to say the final words. “Things between us are over, Mor.”

She doesn’t say that she is sorry. This conversation is already more for Mor’s sake than for hers, but there are limits to how far she will go. Maybe if Mor hadn’t thought that the sole problem was Miryam’s death, she might have been kinder.

Mor is crying again.

Andromache sighs. Still, she doesn’t reach out to comfort her. “With the wall soon going up, we wouldn’t have much of a future either way,” she says. “The Night Court and Angolere will be on different sides of the wall, with no way across.”

It isn’t the reason for why she is ending the relationship, but it might soften the blow for Mor. Let her think that the wall influenced her decision, that they might still have had a chance without it.

“I could stay in Angolere with you,” Mor sniffs.

“And leave your family behind forever? That’s not a choice I’d want you to make. Especially not over a relationship I am no longer sure about.”

She is far more than “no longer sure”, but there’s no need to say that. If not for the wall, if not for Andromache’s upcoming death, there might be some way to salvage their relationship, but Andromache doesn’t think she would be willing to make the effort. She certainly wouldn’t want Mor to make a choice as permanent as leaving her home behind for her now.

It does not make Mor cry any less, though. Andromache wishes she would stop crying long enough to think about her words and realize she is right. There’s no way Mor would want to leave her family and friends behind, not even for Andromache. But well, maybe she has a right to her tears and this is just Andromache being impatient with her. Looking at it objectively, it is probably her who is being too cold about this while Mor’s reaction is appropriate to the situation.

“Not all endings have to be bad,” Andromache offers. “I know it sometimes feels that way, but a relationship ending isn’t the end of the world. It just happens sometimes, and sometimes, it is even for the best. At times, two people are just right for each other for a time, and then they aren’t anymore, but that doesn’t mean the time before was bad or didn’t bring anything to both of them.”

That was very, very kind of her, Andromache thinks. Miryam will be satisfied. A bit cold, perhaps, but she just can’t help it. She is done with this relationship and, harsh though it may sound, done with Mor. She believes what she said – for a time, their relationship was good and she will always be grateful for that. But she sees no cause to maintain any kind of relationship with Mor after this.

“But I don’t want to go on without you,” Mor whispers.

Is it too cold if Andromache tells her that she will get over it in time? At least that’s the experience Andromache made in her two previous relationships. (Well, the first of these relationships barely lasted more than a month, but that didn’t make Andromache at eighteen feel less like she was dying when her then-boyfriend broke up with her.) On the other hand, that is probably not what Mor wants to hear right now, and given that this is her first relationship, it might be best if she makes these experiences on her own.

“You’ll manage,” she says. “I was the first person you loved – I doubt I’ll be the last.” For the sake of the good years they had, she makes herself smile. “I was happy to have met you, Morrigan. I wish you a long and happy life.” It is true, too.

Mor is crying harder again and doesn’t seem capable of saying anything, but that’s alright. Andromache would have appreciated some kind parting words from her, but she doesn’t need them. She is perfectly at peace with the way their relationship ended – this meeting’s intention was to give Mor a resolution, not her.

She gets up, inclines her head to Mor one last time, and walks out of the garden, leaving Mor alone on the bench.

----

On the Continent, the evacuations continue, the chaos showing no way of easing yet. By contrast, Prythian is almost eerily calm. The only court that is losing any territory is Spring, where everyone is busy moving hundreds and thousands of people, but up north in the Night Court, one might think there are no evacuations happening at all.

Mor enjoys the quiet. It offers a nice contrast to the storm raging inside her, and gives her all the time in the world to nurse her broken heart. After that terrible last conversation with Andromache, she fled to the cabin in the mountains where Rhysand is still recovering – or, lately, quietly seething at the fact that his father forbid him from going after Amarantha on his own – and together, they spend days in solitude.

They are a good fit these days, both of them equally miserable. For the most part, they do not talk at all. Rhysand wants to be left alone with his rage, and Mor doesn’t feel like talking about what happened with Andromache either. Well, she wouldn’t have felt like it even if Rhys had known about their relationship in the first place.

As far as she can tell, Rhys believes she is mourning Miryam and Drakon. About them, they talk once or twice, but Mor usually blocks off the conversation. She loves Rhys, but she isn’t prepared to talk about Miryam yet. Not when Miryam and their last argument are so closely tied to everything that is now wrong with her life.

Some days, she sits outside in the cold and twists the necklace in her hands. She hasn’t found the courage to actually use it yet. If Miryam wanted Mor to get it, that likely means she wants to talk to her, but what would they even talk about?

Nothing Mor might say would change anything about the facts. It won’t undo what Miryam did in the Black Land, or the argument they had about it. Nor will it erase the fact that Mor promised to protect Miryam, and then she left, and then Miryam almost died. It won’t make Andromache want her back, either.

Mor is sitting outside with the necklace again one day when Rhys sits down next to her. “What is the business with that necklace?” He asks. “A gift from a lover who left you?”

“No,” Mor chokes out. And then, before she can think any better of it, she is telling him the truth. Not everything – not a word about Andromache – but she tells him what the necklace is, what it does. She wants to mention her argument with Miryam, but every time she tries to repeat what happened, her voice abandons her.

After she is done, Rhys is silent for a while. Finally, he says, “I’m not sure if you should visit them. It would be a risk.”

“How so?” Mor asks, perking up.

“Well, if Miryam and Drakon wish for people to think they are dead, you visiting them would only put that in danger, wouldn’t it? What if father notices that you are gone and starts asking where you were?”

Mor flinches. She didn’t consider that option yet, but he is right. It would be irresponsible to visit Miryam. Even if Miryam asked for it, Mor shouldn’t… At least not right now. Maybe in a few months, once everything has settled down and she isn’t watched this closely by her uncle anymore. Maybe by then, things will have calmed down all on their own, too. Sometimes, time is the best medicine.

Yes, Mor thinks. This is right. Soon enough, things will have calmed down and it will have stopped hurting and then, she will be able to talk to Miryam again, too. It will all be alright. It just takes a little time.

----

The next two months are so busy that the time seems to move at twice the normal speed. That it takes over a month to move everyone to Cretea seemed inconvenient at first, but having people appear one after the other on Cretea actually turns out to be a blessing. That way, the first people to arrive can already start setting up a camp, scout the terrain and look for food. All of this is be painfully necessary because Cretea, densely forested and full of unknown plants and animals as it is, it definitely not an island you just want to dump a million of people onto without preparation.

By the time the last of their people arrives and Miryam closes her bridge spell, they have not one but actually five separate camps, all within less than an hour of each other, to avoid people being too densely crowded in one area and polluting the water. They also have some makeshift huts erected and catalogued most of the common fauna and flora as well as mapped the nearby parts of the island. The cartographers and scouts especially have done great work, but everyone on Cretea did their part.

Loathe as Miryam is to admit it, though, everything would have been a whole lot more difficult if not for Daín’s help. Within a day of the first people arriving on Cretea, they realized that the island is completely different from the rest of the Continent. More than half of the local plants and animals are unknown even to their experts, and it is impossible to tell which ones are dangerous. (For example, who would have thought that the tiny elephants living in the jungle can spit poison if they feel threatened?)

Daín, having apparently been the one to create Cretea as a wedding gift to Étaín, knows all the local specialities, though, and he is willing to help, which forces Miryam to put her lingering anger with him aside for the moment. To his credit, he doesn’t tie his help to any demands, doesn’t even ask Miryam and Drakon to forgive him for what he did in exchange. Drakon still seems to forgive him, even though his arm still hasn’t gotten better. Miryam doesn’t feel inclined to do the same yet.

Busy as they all are with trying to settle into Cretea and not be killed by the wildlife, she barely notices how the time passes. It’s like she blinked and suddenly, more than two months have passed since that battle on the ocean floor. On the Continent, the evacuations are drawing to a close. Not everyone is settled in yet, of course, and on the Fae side of the Continent, it is already obvious that there will be struggles over borders still to come, but everyone has reached their side of the Continent by now. Which means the wall will go up soon.

The realization hits Miryam like a punch to the chest when Andromache calmly tells her that they will cast the wall spell in less than a week. Before she even had the chance to truly comprehend what is about to happen, it’s Andromache’s last visit and they are forced to say goodbye to each other.

Andromache seems entirely calm about the situation, which just makes it more difficult for Miryam. Words rarely fail her, but now, they do. Andromache is one of her closest friends – the idea of losing her like this is unbearable. It almost feels like Miryam is killing her herself.

Andromache seems to guess her line of thought, though, because as she hugs Miryam goodbye, she whispers into her ear, “I know you like to blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault, and that you won’t listen to me when I tell you that you hold no blame for a decision I made freely. I still want you to not blame yourself for this, though. Consider it my last wish if you want.”

Miryam isn’t sure if that is a wish she will be able to honour, but she still makes herself nod. After Andromache has disappeared, she spends a long time staring at the space where she was just standing, trying not to think about anything at all. Then, she turns around and walks over to the nearest human camp.

It is perched in a valley, and Miryam finds a flat stone on a nearby hill where she sits down. From up here, she can see the entire camp, all the people moving round down there, going about their daily activities and simply living. Children are running through the camp, chasing each other in some made-up game. Fires are burning everywhere, adults preparing dinner over them.

Miryam smiles softly. Maybe in a moment, she will go down there and join the hustle, maybe find herself some dinner and join the groups of people sitting around in front of the tents. For the moment, though, she is content to simply watch.

She loves moments like this. They remind her that even if many things didn’t go the way she planned, at the end of the day, she got the most important thing she wanted, the only one that really mattered. At the end of the day, they won and they are free, and that’s all that really counts.

She just wishes Jurian was here to see this. He would have loved it as much as she does and it is so beyond cruel that he never got to see that the victory he sacrificed so much for.

“I miss you,” she whispers.

She doesn’t believe that anyone is there to listen, doesn’t even believe in an afterlife, but some things are better said out loud. For some words, it is easier to be able to pretend that there is someone listening.

“I wonder what you would make of everything if you were here.” She smiles, shaking her head slightly. “You would probably be against the wall far less than I am. You would think I’m stupid to dislike it so much, I know. We might even argue over it. I would give anything to be able to argue with you over that one more time. But mostly I just… I really wish you were here to see this. We won. And it kills me that you never got to hear about that.”

The only answer is the wind rustling in the leaves. What wouldn’t Miryam give for one chance, just once more chance to talk to Jurian. How is it that she got a second chance at life but he didn’t?

She tries to comfort herself with the knowledge that Jurian would be happy for her. If he was able to talk to her, he would probably tell her off for feeling guilty that she lives while he is gone. He would want her to live a happy life, the same thing she would have wanted for him had their positions been reversed.

“We won,” Miryam repeats once more, and then, she gets up and walks down to the camp.

----

The sunlight pierces the darkness without warning. Had Jurian been able to, he would have closed his eye against the sudden light, but as it is, he can only wait until his eye adjusts to the brightness and he can see again. Slowly, Amarantha’s face comes into focus in front of him.

“Have you missed me?” She asks.

Even if Jurian had been able to reply, he wouldn’t have. He didn’t miss Amarantha, of course, but after so long trapped alone in the dark, even the face he hates the most in the entire world is a welcome sight. He doesn’t know how long it has been since Amarantha shoved his eye into that casket, furious over the Loyalists’ defeat and clearly trying to sour the victory for Jurian, only that it felt like an eternity trapped alone in the dark, moments blurring together in a never-ending stream of terribleness.

“It’s been almost three months,” Amarantha says as if reading his thoughts and picks the ring with his eye on it up.

“Such a long time!” She seems in a good mood today, and Jurian is immediately suspicious. Her good news tend to end badly for him. “There is so much you missed. Do you want me to tell you?”

Yes. No. Jurian doesn’t know. If he still had a body, he is sure his heart would be racing. Any news that has Amarantha in such a good mood can only be terrible indeed, especially when it must be bad enough to counter her anger over the Alliance winning the war.

“Well, one thing you certainly didn’t miss was your allies looking for you,” Amarantha says casually. “Because they didn’t. They seem entirely content to leave you to rot. If you ask me, they are probably glad to be rid of you. Not that I can blame them.”

Once, Jurian might have objected – internally, at least – but now, he cannot. He has run out of possible explanations for why none of his friends came to save him yet, especially with the war now over for months. They should have come. But they didn’t, and the only possible reason is that they do not care.

“No, there was something else I wanted to tell you about,” Amarantha says. “I even considered interrupting your little time-out for it, but I thought you could use some time on your own to contemplate how little use your side winning this war was for you in the end.”

Desperately, Jurian tries to cling onto the knowledge that this war was still worth it. If they won, that must mean slavery was abolished. Millions of people must have been freed. It was worth it.

It is difficult to truly feel that way, though, when he cannot see the effects. All that’s there for him is pain and suffering, and none of his supposed friends seem to be willing to help him. It’s like they won and then forgot about him, like they had no use for him anymore and so they threw him away.

“Well, now you hear a few months too late,” Amarantha continues. She smiles at him. It is not a pleasant smile, showing far too many teeth. “Your little mortal lover – sorry, former lover – is dead.”

Jurian’s world goes entirely still. It’s a lie, is his first thought. It has to be a lie. A poor one at that, given that he knows the war is already over. Miryam cannot be dead.

“That lesser faery she betrayed you with is dead as well, although I doubt you are sad about that,” Amarantha continues. “As well as a whole bunch of other people, mortals and faeries, mostly. Ravenia sent soldiers after them, and they somehow managed to completely wipe each other out. Everyone dead, on both sides.” Her smile broadens further. “I find it beyond amusing, honestly. Although I would be really curious to know what you think about it.”

What he thinks about it? He thinks, of course, that it cannot be true. And if it was… No, he cannot bear to think about that.

“She betrayed you, after all,” Amarantha continues. “You did everything for her, and she couldn’t even be bothered to try and save you. Maybe she was too busy with that faerie prince she picked over you. Maybe she was glad to have you out of the way.”

Jurian wishes he could block out her words. He doesn’t want to hear what she is saying, but he can’t stop it. The words are like poison, all the deadlier because there is at least a spark of truth in them.

Amarantha shrugs. “If I were you, I would probably hate her. I’d be glad that she is dead.”

Jurian isn’t. He isn’t. He could never hate Miryam, could never want her dead.

But she must have hated him and wanted him dead if she never came for him. He tries to tell himself that she simply might not have had the time, that she might have come for him after she freed her people had she survived to do so, but it isn’t a good enough excuse. Had it been Miryam being tortured, he would have dropped anything to try and save her. Nothing, absolutely nothing could have been more important.

And she left him for Drakon, Drakon who wouldn’t even try to save her when she was in danger. Jurian told her to stay away from him, but she didn’t listen, and what did it get her? It’s her own damn fault if she died.

No, no, he doesn’t mean that. What is he thinking?

Amarantha smiles like he knows exactly what is going on in his head. “You are glad,” she says, and Jurian spends the entire rest of the day forcing himself to relive all the good memories he has of Miryam to prove to himself, to Amarantha, to everyone, how very much not glad he is.

----

Given that Andromache is going to die in less than half a day, she is surprisingly calm. She spent the last days settling all the needs to be settled. She visited her mother and all her remaining family, met up with any close friends and wrote a few letters that are meant to be opened only after her death. Most of the meetings went well. Her mother didn’t want to let her go at the end, hugging her again and again which just made it harder for Andromache to leave, but at the end of the day, she feels that all of the meetings were a success.

Her people are not yet entirely settled in, but her successor will see to that. Everyone will be provided for, and Andromache is sure that Ania is a good choice as a successor, someone who will govern fairly and wisely for the years to come. Everything is settled. She isn’t leaving any loose ends behind.

With only five hours to spare before she wants to meet the other queens, though, she suddenly finds herself with nothing left to do. Everything is settled, but Andromache still feels like she needs act, to somehow do one last thing even if she doesn’t know what. Her hours are so limited now, she can’t help the feeling that she ought to be using them to their fullest extent.

Yanis eventually finds her wandering through the palace aimlessly. He doesn’t say a word, just takes her by the arm and leads her to one of the gardens. They sit down amongst two rose bushes. With autumn approaching, the flowers are raining petals on the pathway. With a start, Andromache realizes that she will never see roses in full bloom again.

She swallows against the sudden tightness in her throat. In all the last months, she avoided thinking about all that dying entails. She thought about the fact that she has to die plenty, of course, but she never really allowed herself to contemplate what that means. And there were a million different things to consider, her people and the evacuations and the final council meetings keeping her so busy that she simply didn’t have time to think about it.

Now she does, though, and she doesn’t like it at all. Like most people in the world, Andromache doesn’t want to die. There are so many things she still wants to do. She would like to see Angolere rebuilt south of the wall, and see her people thrive. Should it ever become possible, she would like children of her own, and a partner to grow old with should she find someone she can imagine spending her life with. She once thought it might be Mor, but it wasn’t, and she would have liked to have the time to find someone else.

Maybe she should have asked Miryam what dying feels like. But no, that would just have made Miryam feel worse about the entire situation. Besides, she doubts bleeding out from a spear to the chest feels anything like being consumed by a spell.

She supposes at least she get to see another sunrise, as they chose dawn as the time to cast their spell. Hopefully, the morning won’t be cloudy so she will get to see the sun one last time.

Slowly, Yanis takes her hand. His rough, callused fingers squeeze hers.

“Remember our first mission, when we were rooky soldiers together?” He asks.

“When we were sent out to chase that band or faeries that had attacked the village?” Andromache asks, a smile tugging at her lips. “And you idiot thought you could get into a fistfight with one of these lion-wolf-mixture things and win?”

“It knocked my sword out of my hand!” Yanis objects. “I was panicking.”

“Lucky for you I still had both my sword and my senses, or that thing would have taken your head off.”

Yanis grins, but his smile soon fades. “Anni, I – “

A messenger bursts into the garden, nearly stumbling over his feet in his haste to bow to Andromache. “Your Majesty,” he says, holding out a letter to her. “From Queen Nakia. She said to deliver this to you.”

Frowning, Andromache takes the letter. She sees no reason why Nakia would write her a letter now, not when they are both going to die together in a few hours. She breaks the seal and unfolds the parchment.

Dear Andromache,

If all goes according to the plan, this letter will be delivered to you by midnight, which means that by then, it will be too late for you to change anything about any of it. I apologize for lying to you, but I didn’t think you would agree with my plan, and I had to do what I thought best for our people. I hope that you will be able to forgive my ploys.

For all that I believe we have all chosen worthy successors, it would be irresponsible to leave our people without any experienced leaders in a time like this. We couldn’t all die, and I trust that you and the others who remain will keep our people safe and lead them into a bright future.

It has been my honour to work with you in the last nine years.

Your friend,

Nakia

----

Queen Nakia of Scythia considers herself a practical woman. As such, it became clear to her quickly that robbing the humans of their entire leadership in one go would be a very, very bad idea. Admittedly, it was her bad idea, and at the time where she suggested it, it might not have been so bad at all, but now, there is simply no way sacrificing all six queens in one go is the right thing to do. Not when it would bring instability to their people in a situation as precarious as this one.

Fortunately, Nakia listened closely when Miryam initially explained the spell to them all. Back then, she said that the spell would work not only for the people it was tied to, but also for any close relatives. Some reading in books stolen from abandoned Fae libraries confirmed quickly enough that any close relatives to the other queens would work just as well as sacrifices.

It was not difficult to find people willing to step in for the other queens. Andromache’s mother. Sehline’s older brother. Mije’s uncle. Kjani’s grandmother. Only for Leline, there was no one since her entire family had died two years ago during an attack, so she is in the forest where they met to cast the spell along with the others.

Some part of Nakia feels bad for going behind the other queens’ backs like this. They will not be grateful to her for sparing them at the expense of their loved ones, but she is not doing it for their sakes. No, glad as she is that Andromache and the others will get to live, she is doing this solely for her country.

As for herself… Well, she had plenty of relatives of her own she might have asked, but she didn’t. A child should not die for its mother, nor a grandchild for its grandmother, and while Elmira is still young and inexperienced, Andromache and the others will easily able to support her through the initial years queen, just as Nakia herself did for so many others.

She had a long life, and a good one. For forty years, she ruled her country, kept her people safe. She watched her children and grandchildren grow up. Now, she gets to die knowing that her people will be forever free from slavery, never forced to fear the Fae again.

It is good, she thinks as she sketches symbols she does not understand into the earth around her, following the instructions Miryam left closely. The moon is standing high above in the sky.

Nakia finishes the last symbol and turns to face the others. “Shall we?” She asks.

They all look back at her. Some are crying, others firm. They all nod, though.

Nakia turns to look up at the moon. Slowly, she begins to recite the spell, keeping her gaze fixed on the moon above. It is the last thing she sees.

----

Miryam isn’t sleeping. She is lying in bed fully clothed, head resting on Drakon’s shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. When she senses the magical tremor running through the air, she sits up bolt upright.

“What happened?” Drakon asks, sitting up as well.

Miryam shakes her head, gasping. She can still feel the magic thick in the air, pulsing like a second heartbeat. It is not a pleasant sensation. And there, miles and miles away, she can sense something else. A barrier running through the world, cleaving it in two.

“It’s too early,” she whispers, stretching out her senses to investigate that new barrier. It is too far away for her to get a proper read, though. “Andromache said dawn.”

“The wall?” Drakon asks, turning around to her.

“Yes,” Miryam says slowly. She swings her legs over the bed’s edge and walks towards the door to the tiny hut they are sleeping in. She looks outside over the sleeping camp, as if to assure herself that they are still there. “The wall is in place now.”

----

A/N: So, this is not the last chapter after all. There will still be an epilogue coming, set 10 years after the wall went up, to wrap up some loose strings and also just... generally end on a positive note. That is obviously hard to do in the direct aftermath of basically 7+ years of extremely traumatizing events, but I do want to give off a HOPEFUL expression of the future, so an epilogue it is.

Tags: @croissantcitysucks @femtopulsed @aileywrites