#distraught over 'too busy with my brother's scolding'

[deiscension]

Isn't it crazy how M.itski's Nobody is a deep dive on SQX's character development.... 'I just want somebody near me / Guess I'm a coward / I just want to feel alright'. 'And I know no one will save me.'

The heartache of realizing you never knew what it was like to be wanted, you didn't even know what it was like to be needed, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway because what you had wasn't yours and you still took it. You still took it and you couldn't give it back even when you tried because you weren't strong enough to say the right name when it mattered the most and you weren't brave or just enough to understand and condemn the one who poured blood all over your hands when he handed you a fate you were undeserving of. And really what does it say about you that you mourn what was despite the fact it never should have been? What does it say about you that even when you had it all there were pieces missing? Of course you'd never turn to resentment. That's not who you are, it never has been. It's not your right either. You'll find a way to die happy but that's not really the same as peace or contentment. Are you allowed to want after you've had? Hard to say.

[just-jordie-things]

Bite Me - Mike Wheeler

word count: 4052 warnings: swearing, unedited and poorly written summary: Mike has harbored a crush on (y/n) since the day they met.  And all it takes is a run-in with Billy Hargrove for him to lose his shit and let his feelings be known. (a/n): I just randomly felt the need to write for one of my best boys

___

(y/n) (y/l/n) was a sweet girl. If you asked anyone they’d tell you how kind she is, to everyone she meets.  From giving out homework answers when someone forgot, to sharing her lunch, she’d lend a hand no matter who you were.  She was a good person, and that’s why Mike was so in love with her.

He had been ever since she’d joined the Party, back in the fourth grade.  She’d been bringing in an extra juice box and snack for two weeks, just for Will, and the four boys agreed unanimously to offer her a spot in their group.  Mike can still remember the look on her face, the wide grin that showed off her recently lost tooth, and the way she’d giggled and agreed instantly.

They taught her D&D, she was invited into Will’s fort, and taken in by Joyce as one of her own.  She was truly one of them.

She didn’t look at him like everyone else did, it’s one of the first things he’d noticed about her, and he could see it every time their eyes met.  That annoyed expression that he was used to receiving -from peers, from his parents, even Nancy, even their friends- he’d grown so accustomed to it, until he’d met her.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!” Mike was shouting, about to lunge towards Steve, before (y/n) and Dustin grabbed his arms to yank him back.  “We can’t just stay here and-”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing!” Steve shouted back, shoving a scolding finger in the younger boy’s face.  “We’re staying here, so I can keep you dipshits safe!”

Steve rolled his eyes before spinning around to leave.  Nothing stressed him out like these kids.

“Come on, we’ll figure something else out” (y/n) said quietly, and tugged on Mike’s arm a little more.  

His glare softened when he turned to her.

She nods her head off to the side, prompting him to walk off with her.  He groaned, but he followed when she pulled him towards the living room.  Her hand didn’t let go of his wrist until they were away from everyone else.

“You know nothing you could say right now is gonna make me less pissed off-”

“I know,” (y/n) giggles before he can start ranting again.  “But maybe you can just take a breath and pretend to calm down?” She hums, and she laughs again.

Mike groans loudly, loud enough that everyone in the house could hear him, before he threw himself down onto the sofa.

(y/n) just shook her head, and sat next to him.

“Steve’s just trying to keep us safe, Mike,” She says, voice just as soft, but a bit more serious now.  “He’s not doing this to make you mad, you get that, right?”

He nods, but hangs his head in his hands.

“Are you… um… upset because El’s out there?” She asked unsurely.

She had a pretty good feeling that Mike had a crush on Eleven.  He was distraught when she left, and since she’d come back (a few hours ago) he’s been extremely on edge.  Hence the pouting right now.

“I guess,” He shrugged.  “I just- I want to just-”

“I know,” (y/n) murmurs again.  “I get it”

She admired Mike’s need to help, to get involved.  He was brave, if not a little reckless as well.  But there was something sweet about his extreme need to help.  Even though she was still convinced he was only wired this way because of his crush on Eleven.

Mike looked over to her, finding that loving look on her face.  His favorite expression -maybe even his favorite thing- and it somehow calmed him down a bit.  She smiled when he hadn’t started grumbling again.

“You good now?” She asked.

“Yeah,” He sighed.  “I’ll be fine”

She grinned, and poked his cheek affectionately before getting up from the couch.  

“I’m gonna get a glass of water and make sure Steve’s calmed down too,” She told him.  “Guess I’m the only sane one around here”

He laughed a bit as she left the room.

“Steve?” (y/n) called gently as she approached her older friend.

He turned to her, an unamused, and rather annoyed, look on his face.

“You alright?”

“I will be, once I’m in a retirement home and have restraining orders placed on all of you,” He answered, making the girl laugh.  “Your boyfriend calm down yet?” He asked, and her laughter stopped almost instantly.

Steve was chuckling now at how red her cheeks were turning.

“He’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, heard it before, pretended to believe it before, whatever,” He said, and (y/n) busied herself with getting a drink.  “Now’s as good a time as any to just, you know, confess.  You’re stuck here anyways”

“No I… I can’t um…” She shakes her head, staring down at the bottle of water she’d grabbed from the fridge.  “I can’t do that” She finished weakly.

Steve had known (y/n) for a few years now.  He’d met her the first night he’d hung out with Nancy in the Wheeler home, she’d been there with Mike coming up with a new character for D&D.  His first impression, as it was for all of the kids, was that she was a geek.  And she was, but she was a lot of other things too, and what stood out the most to him was her kindness.  She didn’t exactly fit in with the Party like the boys seemed to.  Not only because she was a girl, but because she was… friendly.

Mike wasn’t cruel to Steve by any means, but he was a snarky little shit that sometimes made Steve just want to-

“Why the hell do you like that little asshole so much anyways?”

(y/n) was still blushing as she shrugged her shoulders.

He’d picked up on her little crush one of the first times she’d met him.  He called her out on it right away too, luckily only Dustin had heard, and he’d laughed it off, thinking it was a joke.

It wasn’t.

“He’s such a piece of shit,” Steve said through a laugh, earning a pointed glare from (y/n).  “Obviously he doesn’t treat you the same way he treats, well, everyone else”

“No, he doesn’t,” (y/n) sighed lovingly.  

Her eyes glanced out to the living room, where Mike and Lucas were heatedly, and quietly, arguing.  She rolled her eyes at the sight, not that it surprised her.

“He’s very, um-”

“Sweet on you?” Steve supplied, earning another look, which quickly turned into a nervous smile.  “Yeah, that’s how I’d put it.  I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about it.  He obviously has a little crush on you too,” Steve said, wagging his finger around in her face.  “Otherwise he wouldn’t be such a little gentleman towards you”

(y/n) didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to for Steve to know how she felt.  He’d always known.  She didn’t do a great job at hiding it, but her friends, and Mike for that matter, were oblivious.

They were interrupted by a bright light shining in through the windows, bright enough that she shielded her eyes as she wandered out to the large picture window.

“Who is that?” She asked, as everyone gathered around to figure out who could show up at the Byers’ house right now.

Their question was quickly answered.

“Sinclair!”

The angry, dangerous voice sent a shiver all the way down (y/n’s) spine, before an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.  Billy Hargrove was bad news, but him being here, right now, was even worse.

“Stay inside” Steve ordered, shoving the kids down underneath the window.

“I know you’re in there!” Billy screamed again from outside.

“Stay inside” Steve repeated, before walking out of the house.

“What the fuck does he think he’s gonna do?” Lucas asked, as everyone peeked their heads up just enough so they could see what was going on outside.

“He’s gonna fight him” Dustin said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

“He’ll lose,” Max mumbled.  All eyes turned to her, but her gaze was trained on her brother, afraid.  “He’ll kill him”

“He’ll be okay,” (y/n) whispered to her new friend.  “Steve’s a tough guy, and can throw a punch-”

“I’m not so sure he can take one, though” Max said.

(y/n) frowned, and set a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“We’ll be alright” She assured, even though she wasn’t certain what was going to happen.

Steve was now walking down to Billy, who was still yelling, but they couldn’t make out what exactly.

“What’s he saying?” Mike hissed, only to get shushed by Dustin, thus starting a ‘shh!’ war.

(y/n) only let it go on until Billy shoved Steve back by his shoulders.

“Boys!” She scolded, sitting up a little straighter as the fight outside escalated.

Just as she’d sat up, Mike grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her back down.

“You want to get seen and murdered?” He whisper screamed.  She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her sweet smile.  His brow furrowed at her smile, but he wasn’t quick enough to say anything about it, as everyone’s attention was pulled back to the scene outside.

Billy had shoved Steve to the ground, and was racing up to the house now.  He locked eyes with the Party, who all quickly leaned down as low to the floor as they could get.

“Lucas, run!” Max screamed, shoving the boy to haul ass before her brother could storm in and get his hands on him.

When the door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall, Mike grabbed (y/n) by both arms and just about ripped them out of their sockets as he pulled her upwards with him to get her as far fucking away from Billy as possible.

“We have to help Lucas!” She tried telling him while he dragged her off to the other side of the house.  “Mike!” She shoved his hands off of her, and gave him a pleading look.  “This isn’t like you, come on, he needs our-”

“Where are you, Sinclair!? Come on out!”

She ran away from Mike before he could convince her to hide.

Finding Lucas shoved up against the wall, something in her clicked.  Billy’s significantly larger framed towered over the boy, who was clearly afraid, while Billy snarled nasty things right in his face.

“Why don’t you just fuck off?” She yelled at him, before thinking through the consequences of her actions.

Dustin and Mike stared at her in shock.  She didn’t curse much, so to hear the foul word come out in her voice was… pretty out of character.

Just as Billy whirled around, likely about to send one knockout punch to her face, Lucas took his moment of distraction to knee him right between the legs.  (y/n) squealed, both hands covering her mouth in surprise.

It was then that she took Mike’s advice to run back into the kitchen, and duck down behind the cabinets so she was out of sight.  

“You’re fucking dead!” Billy howled in pain, and while every bone in (y/n’s) body told her to cover her ears, close her eyes, and stay hidden, she peeked around the corner anyways.

“No,” A different voice, a calm voice, a familiar voice, spoke up.

(y/n) had never been so relieved to see Steve in her whole life.

“You are” He finished, and took a strong swing of his fist against Billy’s jaw.

The crack that resonated made her wince, and she shut her eyes only for a moment as illy toppled backwards.  He didn’t fall, and instead swung back at Steve, starting a very violent fistfight in the Byers’ kitchen.

“Come on, you gotta move” A pair of arms encircled her torso and helped her up from the ground.  

Mike’s hands were much more gentle with her now than they had been a few minutes ago, and this time she let him bring her out to the living room, away from the fight.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she watched Billy throw Steve around the kitchen effortlessly.  It was terrifying, she felt as though she was about to see him get killed.

When he landed a rather harsh punch, right under Steve’s chin, she cried out for him.

Steve crumbled to the ground, definitely knocked unconscious.  He looked dead, though, and as the thought crossed her mind, she felt it again.  The snap.  Like an instinct buried deep was just let loose.

“You motherfucking piece of shit!” She screamed in a way that Mike, or any of them, had ever heard before, and was charging at Billy in an instant.

It was a hasty decision, grabbing the beautiful vase of flowers off of Joyce Byers’ table and throwing it full force at the back of Billy’s head.

While his head was soaked, and definitely bleeding from the shards of glass, he still managed to stay standing, and was fuming with anger as he glared down at (y/n).

“You made a big mistake little girl” He growled, and began to stalk towards her in a threatening manner.

“Bite me” She snarled back at him, followed by the rash decision to spit on him.

“(y/n) what the hell are you-!?”

Mike’s warning was cut off when Billy reached her, and she kicked him with all the force she could right in the gut.  He grunted, but it hardly slowed him down.  All she could see was red as she kicked him again, and began to throw her fists against his chest.

She didn’t have an ‘oh fuck’ moment until he grabbed her wrists in his large hands, and kept his hold so firm that tears welled in her eyes from the pressure.

“I’m gonna fucing kill you, little girl” He snarled, teeth bared right in her face.

Oh, fuck.

She tried to yank her body backwards, out of his grip, but he was faster, and stronger, and bigger than her.  This resulted in her being thrown, no, slammed into the nearest wall.  She cried at the crack of her skull against it, but had no time to react as Billy’s fist was all she could see, before it struck her and knocked her out instantaneously.

She fell like a limp, broken thing, and even when Mike grabbed her and shook her by her shoulders, she remained unconscious.  It didn’t matter that Billy was still looking for blood, he pulled her into his lap and held her close against his chest.  He was living a delusion thinking he could protect either of them if Billy came back for more, but he didn’t care.  He was gonna keep her safe now.

Max had plunged the syringe into her brother’s neck, and was threatening him with Steve’s bat, but Mike hardly paid them any attention.

“(y/n), wake up, come on,” His voice was barely a mumble, and he hated to admit it but his throat was growing hot and tight with his tears choking him up.  “C-come on open your eyes” He stuttered.

He pushed her hair out of her face so that it wouldn’t get sticky from the blood running out of her nose.  He wiped away the red substance with his sleeve, not bothered by it at all.

“We’re going!” Lucas called, and rushed over to Mike to help him carry her.  “Dustin Will and Max are getting Steve in the back.  I’ll help you with her”

Mike didn’t have time to question anything Lucas had just said, and hastily went along with the plan.  They looped (y/n’s) arms over both of their shoulders, and made their way out to Billy’s car. ___

Everything.

Hurt.

It was the first thing that (y/n) was aware of when she came to.  Her legs, her arms, her torso, her head-

Oh shit my head hurts.

She groaned softly, reaching a shaky hand up to prod around her eye.  She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was definitely bruised.  The rest of her body had to have been bruised too.

She suddenly shot upward as the car went over a bump, and that’s when she realized she was even in a car.  Why was she in a car…?

Her head rolled against the seat, and she was met with someone’s shoulder against her cheek.  She winced at the pressure, probably because her cheek was bruised and bleeding.

“(y/n)?” A gentle, but distant voice called.  It sounded kind of hazy, like the person talking was miles away, and not right next to her.  “Hey, can you hear me?”

Her eyes met Mike’s round and worried brown ones, and a lazy smile tugged on the edges of her lips.  Even though his brow was furrowed, and there was a deep frown on his lips.

“What happened?” She asked, voice scratchy and quiet.

“What happened?” Mike repeated, much louder than he intended.  She flinched, and while an apologetic look swept over his face, he didn’t apologize.  “(y/n), you attacked Billy Hargrove” He told her in a grave tone.

“I did?” She asked proudly, her smile returning.

“No- don’t- jesus (y/n) what the hell are you on?” He asked.  “He almost killed you, I mean, look at you!”

“Can you please stop yelling dipshit?” Max called from the front.  “I’m trying to focus here!”

(y/n’s) eyes widened, and it dawned on her that Max was the one driving.  But just as she opened her mouth to protest being in the car right now, Mike continued on with his angry little rant.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell, (y/n/n)? Did you think you were gonna win? Did you really think that you were gonna take him down?”

Her brow crinkled and her eyes welled with tears, both from all the pain and his cruel words.

“Do you even realize that he could’ve killed you? Huh? I mean, I really thought he did for a second.  Do you even care?”

“What’s your problem right now?” The girl whimpered

“You are! You’re my problem,” He said, not thinking through the fact that she was crying right now.  “That was really stupid (y/n), really reckless”

“Oh, because you care so much about playing it safe,” She scoffed.

It was getting awkward for the others in the car, minus Steve, who was still knocked out.

“All you wanted to do tonight was to get out there- well- well here we are, Mike!” She shouted.  It hurt her head to yell, and Max was yelling again too, but she drowned it out.  “Hope you’re freakin’ happy” She mumbled, holding her hands against the side of her head.

Mike sighed, and pulled her hands away from her face, staring at her seriously.

“(y/n)...” He said softly.  “I’m sorry it’s just…” He let out one more heavy breath to prepare himself before diving in.  “Look at yourself (y/n), you’re hurt and there’s- there’s nothing I can do about it”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” She mumbled weakly.

“I mean I- you… I have to… ugh” He groaned, clearly frustrated by his inability to form a coherent thought.

“You have to… what?” She hummed, face leaning around his shoulder tiredly.  

They were close enough that their whispers were only heard by them.  And somehow, it felt like they were the only people in the car.

“Mike?” She whispered when he hadn’t said anything yet.

His eyes flickered over her battered face.  The black eye, her split lip, her bruised and cut cheek, his heart broke looking at how much pain she must be in right now.  He couldn’t believe he let this happen.

“...protect you” He answered lamely.

“Protect me?” She repeats, soft, and loving.  “From what?”

“Apparently everything from interdimensional monsters to senior year bullies” He said, making her laugh softly.

“You don’t have to do that,” She said with a small shake of her head.  “I’m alright, I will be anyways.  You don’t have to worry so much about me-”

“See I do though- you- you make it impossible not to worry.  I’m just always- I’m a mess, okay?”

She giggled again, and rose a brow.

“I’m not following…you sound kinda crazy Mike-”

“I love you, okay?” He told her.

She choked.

“And I just need you to not get yourself hurt… okay?”

She’d never heard him speak so quietly, so nervously.

“You- you’re- um-”

“No more fighting people- and-and things- bigger than you, deal?”

His hands cupped around her face, thumb stroking over the bruise on her cheekbone in a comforting sort of way.  She swore she was melting into his touch, for a moment she forgot all about the agony her body was in.

She didn’t think twice about leaning off his shoulder so she could reach up and plant her lips against his.  It’s a gentle kiss, because her lips are sore and she was a bit nervous.  

Mike’s eyes widened, and he was sure this wasn’t real.  No, it couldn’t be real, there was no way (y/n) was kissing him.  Maybe he was the one that got knocked out? And this is all some kind of twisted nightmare-dream?

But it was real, she was kissing him.  And it was… wow it was great.

She’d almost pulled away, but he pulled her right back in, and shut his eyes to kiss her properly this time.

If he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to just take her and pour every ounce of love he had for her into this kiss, but it would probably only hurt her more.

They were cut off by a low whistle, and (y/n) turned to see Steve, who had apparently been sat next to her this whole time, and Dustin, who was sat on his other side, both giving the pair very different looks.

Despite his face looking just as messed up as hers, Steve pulled a sly grin, and winked.

Dustin, however, looked like he might vomit.

“What.  The.  Fuck!?” His voice cracked when he screamed, making both (y/n) and Mike jump a bit in their seat.  “You guys have been- been- hooking up this whole time!?”

“What? No!” (y/n) argued back, shaking her head and trying to kill the idea in Dustin’s head before it escalated, but it seemed to be too late for that.  

“You have! You’ve been frenching!”

“Oh my god,” Mike rolled his eyes.  “Dustin, shut up”

“Can we save this argument for later, fellas?” Max hollered from the front.  “I don’t think that this is the most important thing going on-”

“W-wait a- wait a minute- wait a-!” Steve’s eyes widened as he started to panic.  “No! No way! Stop the car right now! Who let her drive-!?”

His screaming was abruptly cut off by the car swerving, causing everyone to scream now.

“Drive on the right side of the road! Jesus Christ we’re all gonna die!”

(y/n) wrapped both arms around Mike, one behind his neck and the other around his torso, keeping her secure.  In case this car were to crash, her seatbelt, and Mike, would anchor her in place.  Well, she hoped it would anyways.

He reacted quickly, embracing her tightly.

“I’ve been thinking I would get killed by a demogorgon,” She mumbled to him.  “Guess it’ll just be a plain old car crash that takes me out”  

He chuckled, but shook his head at her.

“No one’s dying, we had a deal”

She glanced up at him, a sweet smile on her lips.  And she waited for him to look back down at her to say anything.

“I love you too” She hummed, just soft enough that Dustin (luckily) couldn’t hear.

The smile that grew on Mike’s face was brighter than she’d ever seen from him before.  (y/n) was so relieved that her feelings were returned, that she felt she could go back to sleep, if she wasn’t getting nervous all over again about what was going to happen.

All they had to do now was to kill a monster and save their friends.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[rainy-day-coffee]

Hey! Good day? I hope so! I'm sorry if I write something wrong, english isn't my native language. Well... I have an idea veeerryy funny! Like, the dorm leaders have a gf, the only girl on nrc. But something goes wrong in alchemy class, the potion tha she is making explode and she becames a boy. How would the dorm leaders react?

Hello! It’s been quite a nice day for me, thank you! I hope it’s been going well for you as well! And your English is just fine don’t worry! This was a lot of fun to write! Though I’m sorry nony, I think I made this way more cheesy than funny!

Dorm leaders reacting to their fem!s/o turning into a boy!

Red in the face and not because he’s blushing

Not at all bothered by your new physical appearance, he’s more concentrated with your blunder in potion making. The effects of potions are only temporary after all!

He’ll scold you first and foremost. This is why you need to follow everything exactly as the instructions say!

Depending on the severity of your reaction to the whole ordeal, he’ll either make the reversal potion himself or force you to make it 

Just a warning to you, you’re most likely going to be stuck with the latter

He expects you to improve from your mistakes

If he forces you to make it on your own, he'll stick around to help you just a bit!

In the case you ask for some reassurance, he'll shyly peck your cheek and tell you you're still the most beautiful rose he’s ever seen

Thanks to his keen sense of smell he's able to tell who you are straight away. You could probably turn into a krill and he’d still somehow know it’s you!

Leona wouldn’t mind too much to be honest, he’s very chill about it. His herbivore is still his herbivore, right? No need to make a fuss then

However, if you were uncomfortable in your new body, you can bet that he’ll march off to make you a reversal potion.

He will not trust anyone else in making it

If you’re okay with staying that way for awhile, he will treat you no differently! Just cuddle with him and sleep the majority of the day away!

Would 10/10 let you borrow his clothing if you need something to wear! Cuddling AND yet to get to smell like him? Perfect

Who knows, you two might just sleep the potion’s effects away

If you were any other student in this entire school and came to him for help, he would coax you into a signing a sketchy contract with him. But you aren’t any other student, you’re his precious pearl! You get a discount!

He probably thought you were another student doing a bad impersonation of his girlfriend. He does run a shady business. It’s not odd to encounter a couple of interesting individuals

Cue a blank look and dramatic sigh when he discovers you are in fact his girlfriend. He then smirks with a new found glint his eyes. He will see this as an opportunity.

He’ll make you a reversal potion on one condition! Give him cuddles and kisses. A good deal, no?

He’ll be disappointed if you deny him. He might try and slink off to his octopus pot in embarrassment too. Just give him those cuddles and kisses and he’ll be fine!

He lets you borrow his suits so you two can match! The twins will tease you a lot, but it's not like they don’t do that already

I have a very strong feeling something similar has happened to him in the past. Jamil nearly had a stroke that day

Bless this boy’s soul, he really thought you might have been his girlfriend’s twin brother. He even introduced himself and everything. He was ready to throw a welcome party too

A little embarrassed when you explain what happened. You assure him it’s okay though! He was simply being his usual sweet self

He’s very quick to lavish you with compliments! Look at his girlfriend! She’s beautiful in any form she takes! He probably goes so far as to try and show you off to the rest of the Scarabia dorm

It’s very hard not to practice self-love when you’re around this ball of sunshine

He would try and make you a reversal potion! It may not go so well though. He then offers to ask Jamil to make you one!

If you decide to stay in this form until the effects wear out, he’ll dress you up in so much clothing. Specifically clothing from the Land of Hot Sands! He compliments you every time you change into something new!

He knows mistakes happen so he isn't all too angry. That doesn’t mean he won’t scold you!

He’s not one to conform to gender norms in the first place. He doesn’t care that you suddenly underwent an accidental sex change

If you feel insecure about being in a body you aren’t used to, he’ll compliment you in his own way. A little offended if you think he’ll love you any less though

“Remember dear, confidence comes from within. Despite what may happen always keep your chin up.”

He lets you decide what you want to do

Want to be turned back immediately? He’ll whip up a potion for you in no time! Something as simple as that is no trouble for him at all!

You wish to remain in this form until the potion wears off? He’ll dress you up in a variety of his clothes! Nothing but the best for his dearest!

Impromptu fashion show? Impromptu fashion show.

Rook may sneak in to watch

Will most likely go over the potion instructions with you so this doesn't happen again! He needs you to learn to do things on your own in case he isn’t there to help!

He might not recognize you at first

Has a heart attack when he sees you for sure. Who is this normie that barged into his room uninvited? Why are they talking like they know him?

Would probably laugh at you a little, you messed up that badly???

Ceases his laughter immediately if you're distraught. He didn't mean to make you feel worse! He just thought it was a little funny!

If you're worried about what he thinks, he'll quietly reassure you he doesn't mind. He fell in love with your personality, not your physical appearance! He's shy and struggles in telling you this but he's trying his best

He'll let you borrow his clothes if you don't have any suitable outfits! It doesn't matter if you've already worn his stuff, he will blush just as hard. May sneak a picture or two when you aren’t looking

He’ll be quick to make you a reversal potion! Whether you decide to use it or not is entirely up to you!

He’ll know immediately it’s you

Don’t even try and prank him, his reaction won’t be that worthwhile

He’s so sweet and calm about the situation! He’ll first make sure that you’re alright both physically and emotionally

If at any moment you feel self-conscious, he’ll kiss you softly. It’s all you need to know he doesn’t mind you this way either

Once he’s assured that you’re fine, he’ll tease you lightly! His little beastie really jinxed up this time!

He doesn’t have many clothes that aren’t formal, except for the souvenir T-shirts Lilia buys him on his many trips. You’re free to wear those if you’d like! 

A certain green-haired retainer may or may not be extremely jealous of you

If a reversal spell exists he can cast it for you in heartbeat. Or if you’d like to mess around awhile in this new form, be his guest! He might just join you in pulling a joke or two on the rest of the Diasomnia members! Lilia probably won’t fall for it but Silver and Sebek may not be as safe

[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted — jean kirstein x fem! reader

series masterlist

prev | next , part two

warnings: cursing, porco being toxic lol. dates are wrong once again sorry !!

[ playlist : love again - dua lipa ]

eight.

Half asleep and ready to go to bed, Y/N fell back into her bed. She picked up her phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll through some TikToks. Instead, she was met with two messages. Audibly gasping as she read Porco’s name, she dropped her phone, hitting herself in the face in the process. “Ow!”

Porco? Y/N thought incredulously. What the hell does he want?

Contemplating asking Ymir and Sasha for advice, Y/N then decided against it. This was her life, she couldn’t expect her friends to guide her though it. But God, was she such a coward when it came to Porco. It wasn’t like he was Prince Charming, but Y/N had an extreme loyalty complex. She couldn’t ever allow herself to let go of people. Porco used to berate her for that constantly.

Why are you so clingy? He would ask.

Who’s the clingy one now? Y/N thought bitterly. She decided to ignore Porco’s text until she could think of a reply that wasn’t along the lines of “No, fuck you.” She slid her thumb over to Jean’s message.

Great. Another text asking to talk. Why couldn’t people just send their question and save a girl the anxiety? Y/N scolded herself for allowing her egotistical ex to ruin her mood. Jean didn’t deserve her snappiness.

Jean sighed in relief. Thank God she replied. He didn’t know if he could handle the mortification if she didn’t.

Y/N pondered for a bit.

Y/N laughed quietly to herself. So Jean could in fact match her sense of humor. She exited out of their chat, mindlessly scrolling through social media. She actively avoided Porco’s message, not wanting to burden herself with the chore of responding to him. What could he possibly have to say? She headed to Twitter, hopefully finding something relatable to retweet. As Y/N scrolled, she saw a familiar face appear on her timeline.

Recommended for you from contacts, the header read. Below it was about 3 profiles of people in her contacts she had not followed yet. Among them, was Jean.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Should I? She questioned. Would she be overstepping some unspoken boundary? What if she hurt her own feelings by stalking and seeing something she wouldn’t like/had no business seeing? Maybe she should just ignore it. She doubted Jean was some internet creep… but wouldn’t it be good to know if he was? Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N decided to invade that boundary and look at his account.

He didn’t have much content from what Y/N could see. He just retweeted fancy cars and some funny memes. She spotted Connie, Sasha’s lifelong friend and Jean’s infamous roomie. She mentally hoped Jean didn’t tweet like Connie. That would be the ultimate ick.

Y/N’s thumb stopped scrolling, hovering over a tweet. Her heart beated ten times more rapidly.

well she is pretty lol, Jean’s tweet read. Tweeted just an hour after he met Y/N.

Could it be? Y/N wondered. No way. There’s no way it’s about me. I’m just jumping to conclusions. Why would he say that about me? I’m just being self absorbed.

She brushed off her inquiries, deciding to just stop stalking his account entirely. From what she already saw, there wasn’t anything suspicious or icky enough to make her want to not interact with him. And she was already paranoid, so every tweet she saw she would begin to assume it was about her as well. She was just getting her hopes up.

Rolling over on her side, Y/N placed her phone to charge and went to sleep. It was late, which was probably what was causing her mind to become fuddled.

——

“You should’ve told me Sasha’s third roomie was Y/N,” Reiner had said to Jean in the truck. “I totally blindsided her. Top ten worst encounters of my life.”

“Uh, care to enlighten me? Do you guys have beef or something?” Jean asked, perusing the radio stations.

Reiner sighed. “She’s dating- was dating- my childhood friend, Porco.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

Reiner glanced at him before stopping at a red light. “I said dating. He dumped her like a week ago. It was pretty trash.”

Jean secretly felt more at peace hearing that. Poor Y/N, but.. she could probably do better than this Porco person.

“So what does that have to do with you?” Jean asked.

Reiner shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really help. She said she felt a little betrayed. Like I agreed with Porco and my friends that she’s the crazy one.”

Jean nodded. “So you were a bystander.”

Reiner sighed again, tilting his head in an I guess motion. “It’s just hard. Porco’s like my brother, and I don’t agree with how he acted… but maybe I should have spoken up sooner.”

Jean patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, man. That was between them.”

“Yeah. I could have at least told Porco to step it up, though.” Reiner murmured.

I’m glad you didn’t. Jean snickered to himself.

“So, you think she’s cute?” Reiner shot Jean a devilish grin. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. You goin’ to Historia’s birthday?” He slyly changed the subject.

“Is it open invite?” Reiner’s eyebrows scrunched up.

Jean shrugged. “I have an invite. Maybe you can be my plus one.”

Reiner made a “Hmm” sound in response, weary at Jean’s invite. “What are you dressing as if you go?”

“I was thinking swag era Justin Bieber.” Jean replied, smiling widely.

Reiner gave him a look. “You for real?”

Jean’s smile dropped. “What?”

Reiner laughed. “I’d pay money to see how badly you embarrass yourself with that.”

“It’s a 2000’s party?” Jean was confused.

“Yeah, but everyone does like, early 2000s. Think Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.”

Jean shot him a curious look.

“What? Pop culture is my guilty pleasure.” Reiner explained himself. “And everyone knows Britney Spears.”

Jean hummed in response. “I just think you got a thing for pop girls.” He referenced the earlier Becky G mishap.

“I’m not even gonna deny it anymore.” Reiner agreed, defeated.

——

“Guys,” Y/N said the next morning. Ymir and Sasha were at the breakfast “nook” (a corner of their miniature kitchen designated for a small table that barely fit all three of them), Sasha eating cereal and Ymir chomping on an apple while scrolling on her phone. “Porco texted me last night.”

Ymir continued scrolling, unfazed. Sasha’s eyes widened and she swallowed her food before speaking. “What? Why?” Y/N glared at Ymir.

“Thanks for your interest YMIR, but as i was telling Sasha-“

“I’m Sasha.” Sasha cut in, obviously confused.

Y/N gave Sasha a look.

“Did you say something?” Ymir said, bored. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone.

“Ymir!” Sasha scolded. “Y/N’s telling us Porco texted her!”

“Who’s Porco?” Ymir replied, monotonous.

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “Are you stalking Eren again? I already told you to stop comparing your subscribers-“

“I’m not stalking Eren!” Ymir snapped defensively. “I’m…” She mumbled the next part incoherently.

“Huh?” Sasha and Y/N asked in unison.

“I SAID,” Ymir repeated, annoyed. “I’m looking up Britney Spears outfits. Historia wanted us to go as different eras of her. But I can’t find anything that matches my style.” She grumbled.

Y/N’s heart melted. It was adorable watching Ymir struggle to find a matching costume for Historia. It was like Marilyn Manson wanting to get along with a CareBear.

“Just go as JT,” Sasha said, chewing her cereal.

“One, close your mouth, and two, Historia asked for us to go as Brittney. I can’t just show up like a dude.” Ymir visibly deflated as she scrolled through countless pictures of a younger Spear’s iconic looks.

“Why don’t you try her bandanna phase? That wasn’t so over the top, and she wore mostly jeans.” Y/N suggested as she squeezed into the corner chair.

Ymir sighed. “I don’t want to wear a skirt or some bimbo shit. That’s y’alls look.”

“How do you manage to sound endearing trying to please your girlfriend while simultaneously insulting us?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“It’s a talent.” Ymir waved her off. “What did you guys get her though?”

“A giftcard to Urban Outfitters,” Sasha replied. “I got tired of searchin’. I put $50 on it. I think that should be enough for like, a shirt and a half. She better like it, too. ‘Cus I’m broke.” Sasha pointed her spoon at Ymir accusingly.

“I got her the Taylor Swift vinyl she’s been wanting. And some pink film for her camera.” Y/N added. Ymir nodded approvingly.

“I hope she likes my gift. I don’t know if I’m moving too fast though?” For the first time since Y/N mer Ymir, Y/N hadn’t ever seen her this distraught.

“Calm down,” Y/N reassured her. “You’ve been together for years now. I don’t think you can move any slower.”

Ymir rolled her eyes, leaning back im her chair with arms crossed. “It’s a small trip to Seoul. I know she’s been dying to go. It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before with her family… but I figure it’d be different with just us.” Y/N’s heart melted.

“That’s so sweet!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes watery. “I want an Ymir!”

“Well, you can’t have me!” Ymir laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The sponsorship I managed to land gave me a decent payout.” Ymir sheepishly replied, her cheeks a faint red

Y/N nudged her. “Look at you, being modest.”

Ymir waved her hand. “Shut up. How does this look?” She turned her phone to Y/N, showing a picture of Britney Spears clad in low waist jeans, a black tank top and sure enough, a yellow bandanna.

“That’s perfect.”

Ymir smirked, smug. “Just like me.”

“Y/N!” Sasha shouted. “Go back to the Porco thing!”

“Oh, yeah. What did Oinky want?” The girls turned to face Y/N, who shrank a bit back in her seat.

“That’s a new one,” Y/N chuckled. “I thought of one last night, too,” She paued for dramatic effect. “Porker!” She gasped out, giggling, hitting the table in a slight fit of laughter. Sasha and Ymir gave Y/N a blank stare, unamused at Y/N’s mediocre roast.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.” Sasha spat.

“If your career was stand up you’d be living in a box.” Ymir deadpanned.

“Tough crowd,” Y/N sighed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. “But if you must know…” She purposely stalled a bit, knowing it would send an impatient, jittery Sasha over the edge and annoy Ymir even more, even if she pretended she was not interested in the relationship drama between Y/N and her disgraced ex.

“Just say it already!” Sasha begged.

“I…don’t know. I haven’t responded.” Y/N finally admitted, putting her head in her hands. “I just-“ Her words were muffled by her hands.

Ymir removed her hands from her face. “Your words, darling.” She scolded, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned. “I’m too pussy to respond. He just asked if we could talk. What could he possibly want? What if he wants the couch? It’s just too much.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Just leave him on read! If he wants to talk so badly he’ll find a way to say what he needs to.”

“For once, I agree.” Ymir added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Y/N stretched. “But it did keep me up at night wondering what he wanted.”

“Y/N, forget him! Historia’s party is soon, there’s no time to worry about ugly men!” Sasha stood up, rushing to put her bowl in the sink. “I got a lecture in a few, but you need to find your costume! We’re all going as Britney!” She said before disappearing into her room.

“Um, who’s gonna tell her we’re not all dressing as Britney?” Ymir inquired.

Y/N snorted. “Not I. I’m probably going as Suki from Fast and the Furious.”

“Niiceee,” Ymir fist pumped Y/N. “She was my sexual awakening.” Y/N choked on her muffin.

“Ymir, what’d we say about uncalled for horniness?” Y/N reprimanded. Ymir made her way to the coat rack, searching for her car keys in her leather jacket’s pocket.

“If I was gonna be chewed out for liking women I would’ve lived with my parents!” Ymir called out. “I gotta pick up Historia!”

“Will you be back?” Y/N shouted back.

“Get off my dick!” Ymir shut the door. Laughing to herself, Y/N picked up Ymir’s dish to place in the sink. She was, out of the three, the more tidier one. Ymir did the best cleaning, but she was selectively lazy.

“Bye, Y/N!” Sasha shouted before leaving in a rush. One thing Y/N had grown used to was the fairly chaotic mornings. She secretly hoped they would be like this for a long time.

Since Y/N had transferred, Ymir and Sasha had been the best roommates she could ask for. Yes, Ymir was snappy and Sasha was a bit ditzy, but it was the perfect combination and they were respectful. Y/N had transferred from Sina University purely for academic reasons, but she had not expected to fit in so well with the girls or their group of pre establish friends. She worried she would not fit in since they had already been so tight-knit, but found that wasn’t the case at all. They were open, accepting and loyal. Y/N couldn’t be happier where she was, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful for how close they had all gotten in their short time together. Who knew randomly assigned rooming would provide her with friendship to last a lifetime?

Which is why every time she thought about Porco she kicked herself. How could she have let some… meathead ruin her freshmen year of college? She should have been having fun, interacting with Ymir and Sasha’s friends more, lived her own life. But no, she chose to become involved with a self absorbed fraternity guy of all people. Now she was semi-heartbroken, extremely humiliated, and about a year’s worth of time and effort short. She had allowed him to take advantage of her so much, that he felt he could contact her still after basically using her. The thought made her want to rip her hair out and scream.

Almost as if through divine intervention, her phone beeped with a notification.

What the actual hell? Y/N thought.

She froze for a second. What does she do? Respond? Ignore? Block?

After a few seconds of mental deliberation, Y/N finally decided. She was fed up with the lack of bravery she showed and decided to just end it once and for all. Typing out a response, she clicked send and decided to go to the mall for the retail therapy she was sure to need after whatever Porco said what he wanted to say. Turning the shower on, she braced herself for his response. What could Porco want? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

This better be good, Y/N thought.

taglist : @tsunderehokage @lagrimasdeglitter @snowyseungs @mukeovernetflix @bakugouswh0r3 @punicorn999 @deadlyaffairs @usernamehere91 @calumsfringe

a/n: woohoo!! long chapter. so to recap: i graduated!! i am finally free from the clutches of high school. i might do a face reveal :) bc i loved my grad dress. anywho, my fever cleared up, i have chapter 9 already completed (just need to revise + edit) and this is NOT proof read!! it’s 2 am guys i’m tired. but i hope you enjoyed this :) sorry for the weird cropping too. peace out

[inctlife]

20 Years | LTY ~ Siwoo, Nari, Wonsik

genre: fluff

summary: growing up with the lee family

warnings: none

________________

Siwoo = 5 / Nari = 4 / Wonsik = 1 week

"Nari, Siwoo!" Taeyong called, his voice still soft, so as not to disturb the sleeping baby in the car seat in your arms.

"Daddy!" Nari exclaimed, running into the hallway, Taeyong scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around.

"Oh, baby girl!" Taeyong cooed, "I missed you!"

"Where's baby?" she asked, peering over Taeyong's shoulder.

You laughed, "he's here, Nari, don't worry."

"My little brother!" Nari cooed, wriggling out of Taeyong's arms to see the baby in the driver's seat.

“Our little brother!” Siwoo shouted, running after his little sister, crouching down to see the baby in the car seat.

“Careful, careful!” you chuckled, “you two have all the time in the world to see him, okay? He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Siwoo = 9 / Nari = 8 / Wonsik = 4

“It’s okay, Wonsik-ah,” Taeyong smiled.

Wonsik frowned, turning to you; that was not what he wanted to hear at all.

“Mummy, I’m nervous,” Wonsik pouted.

You chuckled, taking him into your arms and kissing his head, “I know you are, baby boy, but everyone has to go to school some day. Aren’t you excited to play with some new friends? And some of your cousins will be there!”

Wonsik protested, wriggling around in your arms.

“Look, Lee Wonsik, that’s not going to do anything. Why are you so nervous about going to school?” you asked, pulling him away from your chest so you could see your son’s face.

“I miss you and Daddy,” he whispered.

You laughed, pulling him close, “we’ll miss you too, Bubba.”

“Wonsik-ah,” Taeyong cooed, “Mummy even cried last night because of how much we’ll miss you! But school is fun, okay? You’re gonna have so much fun, buddy!”

“Wonsik-ah!” Siwoo called, “I’ll be at school too! And Nari! You can stay with us at break time and lunch.”

“I can?” Wonsik asked, his big eyes shining with the threat of tears, until his big brother spoke to him.

“Of course!” Nari smiled, “come on! We’re already dressed!”

Wonsik giggled, wriggling; now to get out of your arms, and down to the floor, ready to get dressed for his first day of school.

Siwoo = 11 / Nari = 10 / Wonsik = 6

“Wonsik! Throw me the iPad,” Siwoo said, motioning for his little brother to pass it over to him.

But Wonsik’s head hadn’t wrapped itself round all the different ins and outs of language yet, and his brother said what his brother said.

Lifting his arm into the air, he threw the iPad across the room.

“Wonsik! What the heck?!” Siwoo exclaimed, as the flying metal hit his arm and landed on the floor beside him, the screen cracking.

“Wonsik!” Nari shouted, the iPad being a shared possession between the three.

“What happened?” you called from the kitchen, Taeyong stood beside you, rolling his eyes.

“Wonsik threw the iPad!” Siwoo yelled, storming into the kitchen.

“He told me to,” Wonsik said, waddling in after him, a sad look in his eyes.

“Why would he have told you to throw it?” you asked.

“He said ‘throw me the iPad’,” Wonsik repeated.

“Yeah! And that means give it to me! Oh my god,” Siwoo seethed.

“Shh, calm down, Si,” Taeyong said, stroking his eldest son’s hair, “it was just a little misunderstanding, okay? We’re not mad at either of you.”

“Yeah but dad, look at the iPad!” Nari exclaimed.

“Is it cracked?” he asked.

“All over!” Siwoo huffed.

“We can get you a new iPad, guys,” Taeyong said, “can you two just apologise to each other please?”

“I’m sorry for throwing the iPad, Siwoo-hyung,” Wonsik muttered.

Siwoo frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“For...?”

“For... For shouting at you,” Siwoo said.

“Okay, I’ll get you guys a new iPad. Why don’t you play with Legos for now?”

Siwoo = 14 / Nari = 13 / Wonsik = 9

“It is 3 o’clock in the morning!” you yelled, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Taeyong, you’re killing yourself and you’re abandoning us!”

“I’m not abandoning anyone! I’m fucking working all for your guys!” Taeyong yelled back, both of you heated as you shouted back insults and arguments, most of them not even making sense.

“Wonsik-ah?” Nari called gently, pushing her younger brother’s door open, “you okay?”

You never meant for the kids to hear you, but you two were loud.

Wonsik nodded slowly, moving up in his bed, Nari coming to join him.

“You two are babies,” Siwoo said, but still came quickly into his little brother’s room, joining the two on the bed, “I’ll protect you.”

Siwoo = 17 / Nari = 16 / Wonsik = 12

“Hey, Siwoo-hyung?” Wonsik called sheepishly.

“Hmm?”

Siwoo didn’t look up from his textbook, furiously writing out notes.

“I– I just wanted to get your advice on something.”

“I’m a bit busy,” Siwoo sighed, looking up at his younger brother for the first time since he entered the room, “what’s it about?”

“Um... a girl.”

Siwoo smirked, sitting back in his chair, “oh yeah? Then I have plenty of time, what’s your question?”

“W-Well I wanted to confess. And I was going to on White Day but I don’t really know how...” Wonsik trailed off, he was so embarrassed, but he didn’t know who else to turn to, “can you help?”

“Our baby!” Siwoo cooed.

“Oh my god, fuck off,” Wonsik whined, going to leave, when Siwoo rolled his chair over and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, wait, wait!” the elder laughed, “I’m just joking with you. What’s she like? Did she give you anything on Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh my god, who?” Nari asked, stopping her journey past Siwoo’s door.

“No!” Wonsik whined.

Siwoo cackled, “Wonsik has a crush.”

“Shut up!”

“Wants to confess,” Siwoo giggled.

Nari laughed, catching her little brother as he tried to leave.

“I’m helping,” Nari announced, shoving Wonsik onto the bed and sitting on the floor in front of him, “so, what’s she like?!”

Siwoo = 18 / Nari = 17 / Wonsik = 13

“Can you just fuck off?!”

“But you’re crying,” Wonsik said.

“Wow,” Nari scoffed, “really? I didn’t know.”

“Who’s crying?” Siwoo asked.

“Go away!” Nari yelled, throwing a stuffed toy from her bed at her brothers.

“Woah! That was so unprovoked!” Siwoo exclaimed.

“I just wanted to know why!” Wonsik laughed, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?! Why am I crying?!” Nari yelled, “I don’t know, maybe it’s because Hyunjin fucking cheating on me!”

The brothers were speechless, stood in the hallway as Nari slammed the door in their faces.

“Nari?” Wonsik finally said, after a pause.

“Just go away.”

“I have chocolate. I bought it on the way home from school today,” he continued, “do you wanna share?”

Siwoo smiled at his little brother’s heart, “I have this really good series we should watch as well, Ri!”

“What kind?”

“Plain.”

“Comedy.”

Nari paused, picking the toys up from where they’d landed by the door, “come in.”

Siwoo = 20 / Nari = 19 / Wonsik = 15

“Okay guys, we should leave Siwoo alone now,” Taeyong smiled, watching as you gave your son one last, long hug.

Nari sheepishly approached after you, her brother pulling her into a hug before she could.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

Siwoo chuckled, “no you won’t.”

Nari scoffed, pulling away with a sad smile.

“I’m literally gonna be back at Christmas!” he exclaimed, pulling his little brother into a hug, “next you’re gonna say you’ll miss me.”

Wonsik sniffled, “I will.”

Siwoo smiled, “you finally admit I’m cool, huh?”

“I’ve always said you were cool, actually,” Wonsik said, Siwoo laughing as he pulled away.

Siwoo put his hand on his little brother’s head, “be good, okay?”

Wonsik whined, joining Taeyong outside the door as Siwoo laughed, looking at Nari, “you too.”

“I’m going to college next year, don’t get too cocky.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” you chuckled, wiping away your tears, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye Mum, bye Dad,” Siwoo smiled, waving, “bye guys!”

Wonsik and Nari laughed, walking backwards and waving until the moment they were out of sight from each other. Maybe they liked each other just a little bit more than they were each willing to admit.

Siwoo = 25 / Nari = 24 / Wonsik = 20

“Happy Birthday our Wonsik! Happy Birthday to you!”

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” you exclaimed, watching your youngest son blow out his candles.

“Does this mean we’re getting cake for breakfast?” Siwoo asked, looking at you and Taeyong.

Taeyong laughed, “buddy, you’re all adults now, we couldn’t tell you what to eat for breakfast even if we wanted to.”

“No! I’m not listening!” Nari exclaimed, “no way! I’m still 14!”

You laughed, “of course.”

“Hold on, why are you more distraught about your age?! Wonsik’s an adult, Nari,” Siwoo cringed, “how?! You were born like yesterday!”

Wonsik rolled his eyes, picking at the chocolate on top of his cake, “I really wasn’t.”

“It felt like it,” you commented.

“Yeah! I remember it!” Siwoo exclaimed.

Nari smiled, “so do I. Uncle Jisung was looking after us for a whole weekend.”

Taeyong sighed, “and now you’ve all become adults too fast.”

“I wouldn’t say it was that fast,” Wonsik said, “felt like fucking ages.”

“Oh you would say that, youngest sibling,” Siwoo tutted.

“Um, Wonsik! Language,” you scolded.

“Seriously?!” Wonsik exclaimed, Nari and Siwoo laughing at him, “Mum! I’m 20!”

“And I’m still your Mum? I’ll shout at all of you for swearing.”

“Not Siwoo!” Wonsik exclaimed.

“Well he’s the oldest, it’s different,” Taeyong shrugged.

“So unfair,” Nari laughed.

“Says you! Dad buys you literally everything!” Wonsik shouted.

“Oh my god no, you’re the most spoilt!” Siwoo cackled.

It didn’t really matter if they liked each other or not, in the end. They were still siblings; that’s all that matters.

[fiveisnumber1]

Blast to the Past - A Timeless Side Piece

Here’s like a somewhat short little piece, my brain just decided to come up with this concept after a conversation with @oceanspray5 so I wrote it down. If you read it, let me know your thoughts, I’d love to hear them! Thanks ❤️

August 6th, 2043

Like most mornings, you sat around the kitchen table having breakfast with your family. Typically all of the Hargreeves siblings would be present but they had gone out for their own breakfast this morning to celebrate Vanya’s promotion as conductor of the local orchestra, leaving you, Five and your children to have breakfast without them. Your darling husband, Five, sat to your right and held your hand as he drank his morning coffee. And across the table sat your two beautiful children. You smiled as you listened to your daughter Lia detail how she and some of her cousins were going to go shopping for first day of school outfits this coming weekend. On the other hand your son, Penn, was quiet. He pushed around the meal on his plate as he looked between his food and his father. You couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in his head but you knew that it had to deal with Five. Giving Five’s hand a squeeze he looked towards you. With a slight tilt of your head you gestured towards your son just at the right time for Five to catch his eye.

“Is something wrong buddy? You’ve barely touched your breakfast.” Five questioned

Penn stayed silent as he looked at his dad. Something was wrong and it had been weighing on his mind for a while. Straightening his posture he put down his fork as he took a deep breath. The rest of the family looked on quietly as Penn turned to Five and asked,

“Hey dad, you think I can try traveling back in time a few minutes?”

Five knew this topic would come up at some point when he started trying to teach him to time travel. He was his son, so of course he’d want to do more than what were in his capabilities. It just wasn’t feasible to move up to minutes given that he barely had control of traveling for seconds. Regretfully, Five looked at his son as he answered,

“Not yet, we’ve only hit going back in time 30 seconds.”

Penn’s face dropped as disappointment spread across his face. Seeing the change in demeanor Five tried to brighten things up by adding,

 “Y’know what though, I’ll let us shoot for 45 seconds today. How about that?”

“Dad, I’ve been practicing seconds for the past 6 months, I want to do more.” Penn complained

Five looked at you and saw the concerned look on your face. Five was trying to be reasonable in terms of his son’s feelings. He knew that getting to start learning to time travel was exciting to him given that he was only able to start learning those six months ago, but excitement did not equal experience.

“Penn, I appreciate your enthusiasm but your mom and I have explained on multiple occasions how dangerous time travel can be.” Five elaborates

“It’s taken your dad years to get to the level of control he has now.”  You added

Penn could feel frustration build up inside him. He wanted to time travel in the same way his dad could. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t move up to minutes. He definitely had mastered seconds so what was the hesitation with bringing up the amount of time? Standing up from his seat he gave a pointed look as he exclaimed,

“I’m ready to make that jump! I’m not asking for years just a few minutes!”

Five was shocked at his son’s outburst. He had never seen his son this upset and even in times where it came close he still had never shown this much. He knew it would upset him, but Five was doing this for his own son’s good. Sitting up straighter, Five looked at his son.

“Penn, I’m sorry but the answer is no.” Five firmly replied “We need to start small so there are no large consequences.”

The beginnings of sparks started to fly off of Penn as a blue glow whirred around his hands. You and Lia winced at the minor disturbance Penn was causing due to his anger. Instead of saying anything more though, he jumped away from the kitchen and with a flash of blue he was gone. Wanting to help her obviously distraught brother Lia quickly stated,

“I uh...need to make a phone call...”

“Who do you need to call at 10 am?” You questioned

“Oh y’know...uh...Spiderman?” Lia replied confused before quickly adding “Anyway bye.”

And just like that your daughter had also flashed away to follow her brother. With both your children gone from the table you and Five sat in a silence. Pulling his hand from yours, Five dropped his head into his hands.

“Ugh, I feel like my father right now.” He lamented

Your heart broke at his statement. You knew that Five was nothing like his father and constantly loved and cherished your children. He would give the entire world to them if he could. Having him compare himself to that shitty excuse of a man was so saddening because you knew he was only trying to keep Penn safe. Placing a hand on his back you leaned in closer as you tried to comfort him,

“Hey, you know you’re not your father. You didn’t say no to him, just not yet.”

Five looked up from his hands and over at you, the pain in his eyes was on full display.

“I know but it’s like staring myself in the face. I got mad I couldn’t time travel like I wanted during a meal with my family and here he is doing the same.” Five elaborates

“Darling, he has wanted to time travel just like you ever since he could comprehend the subject. He wants to be just like his dad.” You try to affirm

“I just don’t want him to make the same mistakes as his dad.” Five commented looking away from you

He knew the decision was the right one but nevertheless he felt so awful not being able to make his son happy. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek you bring his gaze back to yours. Giving him a slight smile you reply,

“I know. Maybe if we just give him a few minutes to cool off everything will be okay.”

“I hope so. I hate saying no to our kids.” Five stated

Your smile widened as you brought your face closer to your husband’s. Taking on a less serious tone you commented,

“You hate saying no to anyone in this family,”

You could see a smile start to reappear on his face. Oh how he loved you so dearly. Closing the space between you two, he placed a soft kiss to your lips. Pulling back he smiled as he responded,

“Especially you, ma chérie,”

Quietly, the two of you sat back in your chairs sipping you coffee as you patiently waited for your children to come back to the table. Upstairs though Penn flashed into the living room as he paced back and forth talking to himself,

“Ugh, it’s no fair. I wan’t to time travel more than just seconds. I’m ready for minutes!”

Flashing in a second later, Lia leaned against the living room door frame as she listened to her brothers rant. Crossing her arms over her chest she commented to him,

“You know you’re lucky you even get seconds. I can’t learn time travel for another two years.”

“Thats’s because you’re 13. you’re too young.” Penn retorts “Me on the other hand, I’m 15 which means I’m old enough to learn,”

Flashing away from the door frame Lia reappears closer to her brother floating upside down in the air.

“Just because you’re old enough to learn doesn’t mean you’re smart enough to do it.” Lia remarks before sticking her tongue out

“This is none of your business you car floor french fry.” Penn replies pushing her face back

Walking away from her, Penn makes his way towards the side of the room the piano was one. Transporting herself from her molecules from her position in the air Lia appears sitting criss-cross on top of the piano. 

“It totally is my business,” Lia explains catching her brother’s attention, “You had this conversation in front of me dumbass,”

Penn rolled his eyes at his younger sister before using his powers to knock her off the piano top.

“Hey! You can’t just do that!” Lia complains 

Standing up from the floor, Lia looks towards her brother who hard turned away from her again. Watching him she had noticed that Penn had taken up a position as if he was about to take off running.

“What are you doing?” She asked

“Just leave me alone, so I can jump back in time a minute.” Penn huffed

“But dad said no.” Lia reminds

“Lia, I can do a minute. It’s just 30 seconds more, I can’t fuck up 30 extra seconds.” Penn states still not looking back

“But dad-” Lia tries to say again

Penn was done with this. Whipping around he narrowed his eyes on her as he exclaimed,

“Forget what dad said alright! I’m doing it!”

Quickly he whipped back around as he took off on a running start, blue energy starting to form around him. Trying to stop her brother, Lia flashed to him attempting to tackle him to the ground. The two of them felt as the whirring of energy stopped. Both children stood up from the ground as they brushed themselves off. Annoyed that Lia had ruined his time travel practice he angrily scolded,

“Why did you do that? Something could’ve gone wrong.”

Lia didn’t reply. All she could manage to do was stare with wide eyes and mouth agape at something behind him.

“What’s with the stupid expression?” Penn questioned

Instead of saying any words she slowly raised her hand as she just pointed to whatever she was looking at behind him. Turning around, he looked in the direction of what his sister was seeing and was met with a sight he never expected to see. A depressing portrait of a younger version of his father staring down at him from over a fireplace. With the sudden realization of what had happened slipping in all Penn could manage to say was,

“Oh fuck.”

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 11

Here it is!

“D’you think he’ll be back for dinner?” Philip looked through the kitchen window.

“I don’t know, Phil. I hope he will…”

“Carrie…” Philip went to his sister who was making some dinner. “Don’t worry, he’s a big boy.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that… Ugh, guess I was wrong.”

“About what?” He asked the worried mother.

“I thought that he went away with his van only because of work but if he does it here as well, then surely it’s for other reasons.”

“He might be out havin’ fun in a bar or somethin, eh?”

“Nah, Micky’s not like that.” She answered. 

“You don’t know. Maybe he is.”

Phil’s answer made Caroline stop stirring the pan and frown. 

“You boys were up late yesterday?” She asked. 

“We just watched a bit of TV with a beer. You seem awfully worried but you know him better than I do, why would you fret that much?”

“Because… Because I guess you’re right in the grand scheme of things.” She admitted in a sigh.

“About what?”

“I don’t know him that well, I guess.”

“Listen, he’s a man and his job is to deal with danger, he’ll be fine. Would you worry for me if I went out all day?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t but-”

“So then don’t worry about him!” Phil cut her and Caroline pushed her glasses up her nose. 

“I know but I can’t help it. Force of habit, I guess. I’m used to always waiting like that. Sometimes he does come back home, sometimes he doesn’t and I stay up late, hoping that if I wait half an hour more, he’ll appear at the door.”

Phil sighed.

“Look, I asked a few favours at work.”

“Oh?” She answered. “About what?”

“About Micky. You said he’d gotten himself somethin’ to do with the police that he couldn’t talk about. So I thought, as a policeman myself, I could surely get the info.”

“Right, I see, so what did you find out?” She asked excitedly.

“Nothin’.”

“What?” Caroline’s eyebrows jumped.

“I mean, he did stuff for the police and it was so important that it’s sort of uh… a bit… classified?”

“What?!” Caroline repeated. 

“Look, I know you’re worryin’ about him but if he’s called in for jobs like that, then he’s much, much better at his job than what you and Mike imagine.”

“What do you mean?” Caroline turned the stove off and turned to her brother who had taken a seat around the dinner table.

“I mean that he wasn’t just called by the local police for pest control or somethin’. He was paid heftily to buy not only his services but his silence too. Gosh, I’m proud of that boy…!”

Caroline however, was terrified. 

“Hold on, hold on…” She went to sit in front of her brother. “Phil, you’ve got to be clear and tell me. Is he only huntin’ or…?”

“Hell if I know!” Phil answered. “But one thing’s for sure, you should be proud of him instead of scared. That boy, whatever he’s doin’ exactly, he’s doin’ it outstandingly.”

“Oh God…” Caroline sighed and shook her head as she lowered it. She grasped the tea towel in her hand harder.

“What?”

“We’re not so scared as to how his huntin’ goes, with Mike. He was the one to teach him and Micky’s always been careful, nah…”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Exactly what you described, Phil. In a way, we’d have hoped he wouldn’t be too good with a rifle. You never know what you can make a man do if you pay him handsomely. But now that you tell me he’s been off doin’ some classified stuff… Gosh…” Caroline hid her face in her hands. “That’s the worst…”

“Why d’you think he was refusin’ to tell you what he was doin’ then?”

“Cause he doesn’t like to talk about his job to us!”

“Yeah but he doesn’t like it cause he never gets a good word out of either of you for it!” Phil answered. “Look, the way I see it, you guys are doin’ all you can to make him not open up to you.”

“What?”

“Y’know what, let’s have dinner and I’ll explain.”

“Alright, then lay the table out, yeah?”

“Sure.”

They both rose from their chairs and got busy. Philip laid the table for three, in case Mundy would come back from whatever he was doing and Caroline finished her cooking. When they resumed their seats, their plates were full and smoking hot.

“Oh, let me just grab some water, I forgot…” Phil came back with a jug of fresh water. “There.” He sat down and put it on the table between his sister and himself. “Now, that smells delicious…!”

“It’s only spaghetti with a tomato sauce and the leftover ground beef from lunch, eh?”

“Still, smells awfully good, thanks Carrie…” Philip took a taste and closed his eyes with a wide smile. “Gosh that’s almost like Mum’s. You took me centuries back, heh!”

They exchanged a chuckle. 

“So, Phil, what did you mean?”

“With what?”

“With what you said about Micky? That we somehow pushed him not to open up to us?”

“Yeah…” Philip wiped his mouth before going on. “Here’s my take on things. I talked to him and I’ve talked to you, so I got to see both sides of the coin, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I think he doesn’t talk to you about anythin’ cause he’s just tired of the whole ‘it’s dangerous, do somethin’ else with your life’ speech. Meanwhile, you worry not only cause he does hunt at the end of the day, but also because he’s damn good at it, to put it mildly.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Hearing the same speech over and over again, it’s gotta be tiring for you and Mike you, don’t it?”

“It is…” Caroline nodded slowly, defeated. “But what else can we do? He’s about forty and a grown up man. Can’t scold him for it anymore.”

“What if you genuinely tried to understand his job a bit better? Have you ever tried just askin’ him not with the intention of tellin’ him off for it?”

Caroline took a deep breath. “I guess not.”

“Well then, start from there. I’m sure he’d love to tell you both about what he likes and all. But you gotta allow him to. Otherwise, he’s just gonna close up like a clam!”

“Yeah, that’s true…” She looked left and right, half ashamed, half distraught at the idea that it was her fault if her son wasn’t very open with her. “Did you…?”

“Did I what?” Phil asked. 

“Well you’ve been havin’ your evenings between boys and all, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ask him about… Y’know… Sheilas?”

“Oh girls? Yeah, I have.”

“And?” She asked, expecting some news like some would expect a miracle. 

“Nothin’.”

“What d’you mean again with ‘nothin’?”

“Well, literally just that! He’s told me he doesn’t have a girlfriend or anythin’ like that and I think he’s bein’ honest about it…!”

“But?” Caroline knew her brother and she could hear the ‘but’ coming. 

“But there’s something.”

"What? You think he was lying? You think he does have a girlfriend?”

“No, nah. I think there’s somethin’. I don’t exactly know what but I see it in his eyes. He’s not just shy. There’s somethin’ in that heart of his that he’s hidin’.”

“Like what?” Caroline asked. 

Philip took the jug of water and poured some for both of them. 

“Hell if I know…”

-- Miles away --

Mundy raised his eyes to the sky. He took a deep breath. The air smelt the same as back home. The desert here was very different, yet he felt home there, in the middle of nowhere, a nowhere that he did not know and that didn’t know him either. 

The sky’s colours were changing as the sun set gently and Mundy stared in the distance. He was on his van’s rooftop, as far as possible from any and all cities, where his thoughts could be let out free. He could speak them out, or even scream them, shout everything he could not when he was around his family. 

But Mundy did not have that hot blood that would prompt him to do so. Instead, he just thought about it, without the rampant pressure of his uncle or his mother trying to pop his bubble of intimacy. He thought the words that he wished he could say to a friend, a confidant. 

God, I wish. 

He thought. 

God I wish I could find someone nice. 

He looked up at the sky and wished on every star he saw. 

Why? 

Because he so damn wished. He closed his eyes and remembered. He remembered the last time he had a pleasant and meaningful conversation with anyone. That had happened years ago and had cost him his last friend. The one and only person who had understood why his eyes would linger on masculine silhouettes more than feminine ones. They had understood it, and left him, right after giving him that sideways disgusted look.

Mundy sighed. 

He then remembered how it had felt, his first time with a man, and then the other times. The first time was as awkward as it should have been. The ones that followed worked better and better as far as the choreography of moves go. However, there was something that Mundy found tiring. Whoever this partner was -- and it often was a drunk partner found in a pub after a long day of work -- they were always both way past tipsy and not really enjoying more than the physical satisfaction of the act. Sometimes, Mundy would wake up hungover and with a headache that would make him want nothing but to get rid of his catch of the night, so to speak. 

There were no feelings, no attachment, no longing. 

And it got the Aussie thinking. He came to a point where he thought he would rather remove the physical relief to only keep the meaningful discussions, should a choice arise. Better a good friend, than a mute one night stand. 

Unsurprisingly, following such a line of thought, he had grown to prefer his own company and stopped making any effort to find the man his heart and mind dreamt of. He contented himself with his internal monologues and, when his body asked of him, of a solitary kind of intimacy. 

Mundy was in that complete contradiction of craving the company of someone else and hating it at the same time. Having to put up with someone else, changing to please them, to voluntarily close his eyes to whatever they did that he did not like…? Pff, he didn’t have any patience for that anymore. 

So all he had left was to dream. To fabricate a reality of his own where he did have that man. He didn’t need to be good-looking, he didn’t need to be rich. He just needed to understand Mundy, to put up with his long silences, with his sacred intimacy, not in the sexual meaning, no. That man just needed to understand that Mundy was such a mess inside that he preferred to keep to himself. If that dream man could do all that, oh, Mundy was satisfied. If that dream man could understand that Mundy liked his own company not because he hated people, but because they did not understand him. What choice did he have? He couldn’t do anything else? 

It wasn’t like he could cure it or help it. He had tried, to no avail. He just was this way, a way that not even his family could know, because if they did, they would push him away too. But he only had them, nothing else! His mother and father were all that Mundy had, and if he had to make that choice, well it was all thought through! He would of course keep his family. 

That choice, he both didn’t have it and made it anyway everyday. 

No man had caught the Aussie’s interest for more than just a look. He had tried more of course but was most often stopped by the fact that they were normal. They liked women, unlike him. Well, he liked them, but preferred men, greatly so. Thus Mundy would move on yet again, only to end up in his comfortable solitude. 

It was comfortable only because it was familiar. Yet now, he had learnt to live with it, live with the loneliness, like a tattoo that spanned all over his skin, that only he could see. His parents could see it too, but did not see it the right way. God only knew what they thought of him, apart from the usual disappointment at his job, and his single status.

Speaking of his parents…

Mundy blinked repeatedly as he landed back from his day-dreaming. 

His mother and uncle might be waiting for him for dinner. The Aussie moved and went down the ladder at the back of his van before he went to the driver’s seat. What time was it? Bugger, late enough… 

“Oh is that you Micky?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah, I’m back, sorry I didn’t see time fly…” He removed his hat and went to sit around the table. 

"We just finished eatin', son." Phil answered. 

"Ah, sorry again, I didn't mean to skip dinner with you."

"It's alright, Micky." 

He started digging in while his mother started the washing up. His uncle stayed at the dinner table with him. 

“Really good Mum.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

“So, uh, you been alright, Micky?” Phil asked. 

“Yeah, I just uh…”

“As long as you're safe, it’s all that matters.” Caroline interrupted her washing up and Mundy gasped when he felt her hands on his shoulders and her lips on his cheeks. He blushed. "Phil, can you give us a minute?" 

"Sure. I'll go and give some food to Marty." The old man took his cane and left the kitchen, making sure he closed the door after himself. 

"I know, Mum… Look, I really didn't see how late it was gettin' and-"

"Micky." She interrupted him and turned to sit in front of him. "I don't mind it. I want to talk to you about somethin' else."

"Oh?" 

"Look, I think… I think that in all these years, we might have been doin' the wrong thing, your father and I."

"What d'you mean?" Mundy put his fork down and frowned. 

"I mean that… Uh… Now that I'm far from him and I talked to Phil a bit… I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"About the way your father's always… y'know, he's always been on your back and-and I guess I was too. We've always been tellin' you off about your job and always been worried and all but… But Phil told me a bit more and I think that we completely missed what we should have done." 

She raised her eyes to her son and slid her old hand to grab his, several shades darker than her own. 

"Micky… I want to apologise. I never wanted you to shut yourself up like a snail in his shell and I know that you did that because your dad and I've been always pressurin' you."

Mundy opened wide, round eyes. 

"I…"

"Let me finish, baby." She clenched her fingers on his hand. "Look at me, sweetheart." Mundy raised his eyes to his mother again. "Please, tell me about you."

Her eyes and her overall face looked both so distraught and so compassionate that Mundy lost his tongue. 

"I… What d'you want to know?" 

"Everythin'." She answered. "I feel like the only thing I know about you is what you like to eat, it's… It's terrible. So please, Micky, tell me."

Mundy's blush could hardly be deeper. He didn't like being put on the spot that way. But on the other hand, what his mother had just said was… a miracle!

"I don't know what to say really…"

"Anythin', and I won't tell a thing to your dad. If anythin', I'll try and make him understand what Phil opened my eyes to. We've grown apart not because of your job or anythin', but because of us."

"I… Mum...Thank you." 

"Aw…" Caroline stood up and went to hug her son's head. He laced an arm around her waist and clenched his grip on her hand. She gently brushed his hair and bent down to kiss it. "Now, tell me more about your job, yeah? And please, be honest and all, I promise I won't be mad at you, I love you, Micky…"

Mundy was shocked and astounded. So that was what it had taken? A visit to Phil without his dad?

"Mum, I… I'm so glad that you tell me this... Oof, sorry…"

"Aw, gettin' emotional, eh?" 

Mundy silently nodded against his mother. He pushed his chair back and stood up to hug her better, and closed his eyes. 

"Tell you what, I'll make some tea and I'll send Phil away, then you can tell me more, yeah?" 

"Uh, yeah." Mundy nodded as he felt his mother gently tap his back. "Alright, I'll uh.. I'll give you a hand with the dishes, yeah?" 

"Good boy."

They exchanged a smile and both got to work. Mundy finished washing the dishes and Caroline readied the kettle. She disappeared off the kitchen only to reappear a few minutes later. 

“Right, Phil wanted to go to bed so he’s there. It’s just you and me tonight, Micky.”

“Oh, alright, I’m done with the dishes.”

“Can you grab the cups for the tea, baby?”

“Sure.”

A few minutes later, both were in the living-room enjoying a cup of tea on the sofa. The television was low, just enough to fill the silence but not too loud. 

“So, Micky, go ahead.”

Mundy took a deep breath. He stared into his tea and sighed. 

“Mum, I-I don’t really hunt for animals.”

“What d’you mean?” She asked and raised a curious eyebrow.

“I… I try to save them.”

“Save them?”

“I go after poachers.” Mundy explained with his head low. 

“What do you mean? D’you… Hurt them?”

“I… I try not to. I put them to sleep most of the time. But some of them do come back and don’t learn.”

“What d’you do in that case?”

Mundy’s eyes zigzagged left and right. Caroline scooted over closer to him and took his hand in hers. 

“Hey, it’s alright, whatever it is, I’d rather know.”

Mundy took a deep breath.

“I… I don’t kill them or anythin’ but… I scare them.”

“Micky, please, just tell me.” She clenched her hand on his.

“I shoot them but I make sure it doesn’t kill them. I know where to aim to hurt, not to kill.”

“Oh…”

"They're never alone so there's always someone to get them out of there and get fixed."

"What do they say when they extract a bullet out of him? Surely they call the police and start enquirin'?" Caroline asked, frightened for her son. 

"When I do that, I don't shoot bullets. I shoot canines that you can get from dead animals. There are many from the wild reserves. Sometimes, their oldest beasts die and that's the only thing I ask of them."

"You're in touch with the reserves? I didn't know that." Caroline frowned. 

"Yeah. Sometimes, they call me to have a look cause some poachers would have stolen their beasts. It's then my job to track them down, find them and we can organise them bein' brought back home. Of course, sometimes I come too late and the beast's dead. But most of the time, I manage to find them and have them go back to the reserve they come from safely."

Caroline took a deep breath and sighed. She was still frowning. 

"Uhm…" Mundy looked left and right. "Y-you alright, Mum? Did I go too far?" 

"And those reserves are your clients?" She asked, ignoring Mundy's question. 

"Yeah, most of the time it's reserves; rarely, it's zoos."

"Or the police, eh?" She added. 

"Uh, y-yeah…" He lowered his head. 

"So you try to save those beasts from poachers, is your job, yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"And you don't kill either one or the other."

"Nah, never. When I get the poachers hurt, I guess they go to hospital and try to explain that they did hear a gunshot but the doctors must tell them that it's the shock of bein' bit so deep. In the end, they remove the tooth and patch them up. Those things never go too deep in the tissues."

"How d'you shoot teeth?"

"Custom bullets… It's uh… it's technical and I'm sure you'd be bored to hear all about it." 

"Hm. So you just hurt the blokes?"

"Yeah, that's the worst case scenario."

"And you don't kill or hurt the beasts?" 

"Nah, I don't."

"How do you transport them back to where they belong?" 

"I don't, I usually shoot them with a good dose of tranq' shots and then call the reserve to arrange for collection. I stay nearby, just to make sure the beast doesn't get preyed on or anythin'."

"Right…"

Silence fell during which Caroline fell deep in thought. 

"Mum… Uh… J-just to make sure you maybe understand better, I'm… I'm the only one who does that. You can hire hunters left and right but, I'm the only one who never kills the beast in the end. They don't deserve it. People sometimes…" Mundy shook his head. "They behave like animals, not actual animals. Actual animals just look to eat, sleep and mate. People go and meddle with them for their skins, their furs, their whatever that's expensive. I'd understand it if we were ten thousand years back and you need the leather and all. But in this day and age? Nah, leave them alone. Just look at them, take care of them if you're knowledgeable. Other than that? Just… Just leave them in peace. They don't need us." 

"Gosh." 

Caroline reflected on those words. The last time that Mundy had talked to her for that long was… When even was that? She couldn't remember. And she knew he liked animals and felt more empathy to them than he would to people sometimes, but she had never heard him word it all out. 

"Micky?" 

He didn't dare say or move anything and just remained petrified. 

"Micky, I'm proud of you." 

His head swooshed back up to look at his mother. 

"I still need to wrap my head around all this but… You're not harmin' or hurtin' anyone and you're saving those poor souls, bringing them back home." Caroline hugged her son. "I'm so relieved…!" 

He hugged her back. 

"What did you think I was doin'?" 

"Huntin' beasts and all, but exactly to sell them to people who want to hurt them, take their skin or whatever!"

"I'd never do that, Mum, even if they'd pay me billions."

Caroline had her head buried against her son's chest. 

"I'm so, so happy you're not doin' anything dodgy…"

"Nah, I don't. I… Truth is I could, but I know you and Dad would be worried, so I don't. And I'm not doin' any of this for the money, even though it pays well. I'm doin' it cause I'm the only one who can." 

"Micky?" 

"Yeah?"

"I love you, baby." 

Both smiled, still clinging to each other on the sofa. 

"Will you tell Dad?" 

"I'll try. But not over the phone, I'd rather have him face to face for this." 

"Yeah, thanks." 

"And uh… Micky?" 

"Yeah?" 

Caroline pulled herself out of the embrace. 

"Can I ask you somethin' else?" 

"Sure." He smiled. 

"What about… this?" Caroline put her hand on her son's chest and lightly tapped his heart. Mundy's smile vanished. 

"I… I'm quite tired, Mum. Is that ok if I go to sleep?" 

"Sure, baby."

[project-rosewood-476]

The Long Way Home

Yet another side fic for ERHIT.

I'm so sorry all I know how to do is angst.

SUMMARY: Tabby and her mom drive home the long way around after a day out. Tabby tries to have a heart-to-heart with her mom but it doesn't go as planned. Leaving Tabby more alone than she could ever imagine

The way home seemed much longer to Tabby than what she remembered—passing through trees that all looked the same with few houses in between. They were driving through the town of Applewood Creek. After this, they would be entering the town of Maplehood Creek and then...home.

Tabby scoffed at that notion. Home? Home is where your real family is. The people who loved and cared and taught and accepted you for you. The people she lives with don't do that, and they're just going back to where they live. The closest thing she had to a home and family was with her friends. But now, she doesn't even have that anymore.

She rested her head on the cool glass window with her knees pulled up to her chest, facing away from her mother, who was driving the car. The miserable child had a dull look in her once wide eyes filled with hope. The only things that brought her brief solace were the rustling of the bags of groceries in the back and the low rumble of the engine that lulled her to the long-awaited sleep.

The older woman at the wheel kept casting pitying glances at her child mixed with concern that only a mother has. She looked to be in her early 30s and looked like a much older version of Tabby. Only she was slightly on the big side and had worse bags under her eyes than Tabby does from working long hours. She wore a lime green tee shirt and ripped faded light blue jeans from years of wear and tear. She had her red-brown hair that was littered with gray strands from stress. Same wide eyes that Tabby does, only hers was green.

Her mother often liked to bring Tabby along for grocery shopping since her "loving boyfriend" repeatedly refused to let Tabby out of the house. So to attempt to make up for the lack of...everything, she tries to take her out for errands, and they go out to eat and talk. It was their weird form of bonding during her mom's limited days off and away from the house, where Tabby was slightly more relaxed. She knew that Tabby hated going home, so they took the most extended way possible back. It was the least she could do.

But that's not enough.

Tabby could feel her mother's periodic gazes on her. She knew something was wrong with Tabby. Tabby grew irritated of her mother's pity constantly on her.

"If you have something to say to me, say it," said Tabby bluntly through closed eyes.

Her mother sighed. She knew she would have this confrontation sooner or later.

"It's just that...Are you okay? I haven't seen you happy in a while. You used to smile so much and had that lightning in your eyes. I'm just worried for you," she stated slowly and awkwardly.

Tabby snorted," You haven't seen me at all in a while."

She turned to face her mother.

"And for your information, no, I'm not okay. I haven't been okay in a long, long time. Why are you asking now?"

She sighed at Tabby's bitter attitude towards her.

"Look, I know I'm not there much. I just thought that for right now, while I'm here, I could help you with what I can."

"Well, for starters, you can find someone else who is more willing to play the part of the parent who doesn't make the 12-year-old do all of the work. What? Do you think he does any of the work? No, I do the cooking, cleaning, and taking care of Adam,"

Her mother went quiet for a minute. She knew who she was referring to.

"I know that your father can be a...difficult person to live with, but he does love you. You know. He... doesn't know how to show it. He's never had a daughter before, so he doesn't know what to do. He has high expectations of you, and that's why he's so hard on you. He sees himself as a failure, and he doesn't want you to end up like him," she explained while beating around the bush.

"Love me?! LOVE ME?! HE DID THIS TO ME! HE DID ALL OF THIS TO ME!" Tabby yelled as she showed as much of the multicolored bruises and scars that she could.

" I promise you it's not just from fights at school. Now I don't know much about love, but I know you don't beat your loved ones nor don't do anything to protect them."

"It will be over with soon. Things will get better. Tomorrow is a new day-," she started.

Those phrases made Tabby snap.

"WHEN WILL IT END?! HUH?! WHAT?! YOU THINK THAT THE MOMENT I TURN 18, YOU THINK I'LL BE ABLE TO UP AND LEAVE?! DO YOU THINK THAT HE WOULD LET ME GO THAT EASILY?! IF HE'LL HAVE HIS WAY, HE'LL KEEP ME LOCKED UP IN THE APARTMENT UNTIL HE DIES! TOMORROW IS NOT A NEW DAY; IT'S THE SAME BULLSHIT DAY IN AND DAY OUT! THINGS AREN'T GETTING BETTER; IT'S GETTING WORSE! YALL ARGUE ALL THE TIME, ADAM IS STARTING TO ACT OUT NOW, AND I HAVE NO FRIENDS LEFT! I'M AT MY WITS END HERE! I CAN'T KEEP ACTING LIKE YOUR HUSBAND, HIS WIFE, ADAM'S MOTHER, STUDENT, SOLDIER, SISTER, DAUGHTER, LIVED IN CINDERELLA, LEADER, AND FRIEND! I NEED HELP!"

She was breathing heavily at her outburst, with her eyes flaming with hatred but slowly softened when she saw her mother cower and flinch a little at her yelling. Tabby realized that she was almost afraid of her and what she's capable of. Tabby knew exactly what given the events that happened towards the end of August. But the thought of her mother being afraid of her and loving her less? It was enough to make Tabby cry. She doesn't want to be seen as a monster.

Her mother sat up straight a little bit and sighed, annoyed and tiredly.

"I'm trying here. I'm trying to be a good mother. I'm sorry I'm not there often. I have to be the one to provide and put food on the table! Most of our arguments involve you; I'm trying to fight for your freedom! But I also have to do what's best for your brother, too!" she explained exasperatedly.

"Then try harder!" Tabby snapped back

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME TABBY?!," she yelled.

"EITHER MAKE HIM TAKE RESPONSIBILITY AND DO HIS FUCKING JOB AS A PARENT OR DROP-KICK HIS ASS TO THE CURB. OR HAVE SOME BACKBONE AND STAND UP FOR YOURSELF AND YOUR KIDS!" yelled Tabby in disbelief that her mom would ask a stupid question like that.

"YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHY WE CAN'T DO THAT!"

They both looked at each other for a moment before sighing in defeat and saying the answer at the same time.

"Adam"

Even though the abuse wasn't good for Adam to be around, it was still stability, even if it was a nasty form of stability. Tabby would rather have Adam around what he's used to instead of getting rid of his dad, which isn't fair to him and having her mom bring in another man who could be just as worse as her stepdad. She was willing to do anything to keep Adam on a good path and provide some stability for him. So he doesn't end up like her. They both don't have the luxury to be selfish.

"You're so selfish; you know that? And you should at least hold some gratitude towards your dad. He saved you and us, and he made us better. We have a better lifestyle now," she scolded her.

Tabby fucking lost it.

"I'M SELFISH?! I'M SELFISH?! I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THE HOUSE, ADAM, HIM, AND YOU! I ALSO MANAGE AND TAKE CARE OF THE WELL-BEING OF MY FRIENDS WHILE I HAD THEM! I KEPT THEM ALIVE! AND I ALSO HELP OUT THE OTHER KIDS AT ROSEWOOD WHEN I CAN AFFORD IT! I AM NEGLECTING MYSELF SAVE FOR MY GRADES TO MEET MY RESPONSIBILITIES THAT YOU BOTH REFUSE TO TAKE! BUT SURE, CALL ME SELFISH BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO GET BEAT FOR EVERY LITTLE THING I DO, AND I WANT MORE FREEDOM INSTEAD OF BEING TREATED AS A SLAVE IN THE APARTMENT AND WANTING WHAT'S BEST FOR ADAM! YOU'RE THE SELFISH ONE! YOU NEVER DO ANYTHING TO STAND UP FOR YOUR KIDS. I HAVE TO DO THAT FOR ADAM AND MYSELF! THERE IS SO MUCH MORE THAT GOES ON AT HOME, BUT YOU EITHER IGNORE IT OR YOU'RE NEVER HERE BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO BUSY HIDING AT WORK FOR AS LONG AS YOU CAN LIKE THE BITCH ASS COWARD THAT YOU ARE-," Tabby felt as a sharp crack against her cheek. She looked at her mom with disbelief that she hit her.

The woman was crying as they pulled into the driveway and parked.

"Tabby, I'm- I'm sorry...I-I just wanted you to stop…."

Tabby began to unbuckle and opened the car door hurriedly.

"No. Great talk, mom. I can always count on you for anything now, can I?" Tabby said sarcastically as she slammed the car door and opened the other one, and slamming it before carrying the groceries up the stairs. The older woman just cried at the steering wheel.

Tabby entered the apartment. Her stepdad got out of his chair to see what was up. He just stopped in his tracks to analyze Tabby. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she had a red blotch on her cheek. He could feel the anger radiating off of her; He just raised an eyebrow at her expecting an explanation. Tabby paid him no mind and began to busy herself with putting away the food. She didn't owe him an answer. Not yet anyway.

Tabby's mother came through the door a few minutes later. She looked distraught, and her eyes were red and puffy as well. She hugged her boyfriend for comfort, and he led her into their room to talk about what happened. That's just great. Tabby sighed. Already she knew that this was going to be a long night with more fights and beatings while she struggles to explain why she acted out the way she did. And then they would both demand an apology from her which she'll have no choice but to give if she wants to go to bed at a reasonable time. Nothing ever changes. Her mother yet again chose him and Adam over her, and she was left to fend for herself.

That left Tabby more alone than ever before.

[write-a-bad-romance]

Two Hares Running Side by Side [Part II]

Part I here

Characters: Jean d’Arc, Napoleon Bonaparte, Sebastian, Comte de Saint-Germain, minor characters adapted from historical figures

Pairings: Napoleon x MC, Napoleon x Jean, Sebastian x Saint-Germain (main)

Words: 2940

Warning: Slight gore and major character amputation.

"Herr Mozart....or, Wolf as he asked me to call him, was unexpectedly amiable to my visiting him. One of his violinists even invited me to play, and I was elated when they applauded me and...."

Leon didn't need to read the rest of the letter. He understood.

There was little you could hide from Leon, not even in writing. He had long suspected his fiancé's fondness for the young musician. The more he read her letters, it was as clear it went beyond simple admiration.

Her feelings didn't go unrequited, it seemed.

Leon was a kind man. He didn't believe that he was, but everybody else insisted he was. He didn't climb the ranks of the Grande Armée through hard work and ingenuity alone.

Leon didn't want to accuse his own fiancé of unfaithfulness. Leon, on his part, believed his feelings to be earnest. But could he say the same for her?

With the letter crumpled in his fist, he strolled along the streets, in need of a distraction. He had gotten so used to having people around, to getting himself so busy there was no time to nurse festering wounds. Thoughts grew louder in silence, after all.

He stopped at a familiar bookstore, one he and Sebastian liked to frequent on breaks. Large yet cozy, and only sparsely crowded. It was the perfect sanctuary, and Leon grabbed a novel from the shelves to start reading.

But none of the words drew him in, and soon Leon put the book down to observe the other persons. One was particularly noticeable, a tall figure clad in a black shirt.

It was none other than Sergeant-Major d'Arc, flipping through a selection of leather-bound notebooks.

Jehanne, Leon gulped uneasily. Memories of gloved fingers stroking the nape of his neck resurfaced.

Leon (along with Sebastian and Saint-Germain) swore to pretend nothing happened to preserve the sergeant-major's dignity. The man in question himself woke up with no recollection of what transpired the previous night, and everything was back to usual.

But Leon's head was currently in a jumble, and it took him a while until he noticed that the other man had spotted him. 

Iolite eyes bore into emerald eyes, and Leon had never felt more vindicated in his entire life.

So he did what most sensible men would do, sweep it all under the rug and show your opponent your flashiest grin.

"D'Arc! What a coincidence!" he greeted. "You alone?"

D'Arc held his chosen notebook to his chest, a rosy-colored thing that didn't suit him. "Mm," he answered. "My friends are currently preoccupied....elsewhere, and I need to replace my old journal."

"Ah, so you're keeping a journal!" Leon exclaimed, only to scold himself because soldiers keep a journal nowadays and that it's an obvious thing to say. 

"Not for....reasons you might expect," D'Arc looked away. "I've been told that my writing is terrible. Gilles suggested I practice my cursive in a notebook."

The other man's bluntness never stopped being a surprise to Leon. "Ah."

They exited the store together, and Leon thought about following him for the entire day. Leon felt guilty for imposing himself on the man, but it was bound to be a long day, and he needed a distraction. 

Was it safe to assume he was close enough to Jehanne—D'Arc to take up his personal time? Soldiers don't usually grope their superiors when they're drunk.

It didn't hurt to ask, Leon thought. And his initial embarrassment was already long gone. "Seeing as we're both alone, why don't you accompany me? I can treat you if you like."

Leon could sense some slight hesitation on Jean's part.

"Fine," he muttered. "I don't see why not."

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D'Arc ended up following Leon throughout their entire excursion. The Sergeant-Major wasn't one for small talk, but Leon didn't mind the peace. 

He had to admit it was immensely refreshing to learn more about d'Arc. One, he was apparently skilled in sewing, and that he'd mended his own uniforms flawlessly. And second, he had as much interest in flower viewing as he did in testing weapons.

There were rumors about a soldier whose firearms expertise was unmatched and was second to none in swordsmanship. This mysterious soldier was said to swing his sword out in the open every morning without fail, even during midwinter.

The sharpshooter turned out to be d'Arc, who didn't seem to take much pride in his commendable habits. He even asked (insisted really) Leon to keep them a secret.

Even more blackmail material, Leon thought, amused.

But Leon felt some degree of affection for the innocent man, and something tugged his heartstrings when d'Arc marveled at the posh café they entered. There was probably none in his hometown, Leon wagered.

D'Arc, the humble man he was, refused everything else but water (Leon insisted he try the café’s renowned rose tea). And it wasn't until Leon ordered a plate of colorful macarons that the youth's interest was piqued.

And you said you're against sweets. Leon smiled as he took a bite of his own crêpe.

He was puzzled when d'Arc suddenly bent down and set a sheet of crumpled paper on the table. 

Leon's eyes widened in recognition but didn't immediately snatch the letter back into his pocket.

"Must have fallen when I took out some coins," Leon smiled. "Thank you, d'Arc. I didn't notice."

"I didn't read it," d'Arc whispered.

"I beg your pardon?"

But there was a tinge of redness on his cheeks, and the way d'Arc tried to bashfully hide his face was....was....

Darling. But damn the entire Grande Armée if Leon had to say it out loud. Last he checked, he had none of Sebastian’s inclination.

"Don't worry about it," Leon cleared his throat. "You've told me your secrets, and I showed you mine. It's alright."

D'Arc raised a thin eyebrow. Any other officer would've found the act insolent, but Leon wasn't just any officer.

He was a considerate officer. And a distraught one.

"I suppose I can't blame you for peeking then," Leon smiled wryly. "I should've kept my problems to myself. Put that letter back in my quarters or something,"

D'Arc listened calmly and took a sip of his tea.

"But maybe I'm just not capable enough to solve this one," Leon mumbled. "I'm never good at this.... at this sort of thing. She's always the one to go after me and make me sit down and....and talk. But we're far away from each other, and I'm at a loss on what to do."

Leon ran a hand through his black locks. He was crumbling in front of his subordinate, but it didn't matter. He trusted that d'Arc trusted him with his secrets, and that was grounds for confiding in the man, wasn't it?

And d'Arc's presence was calming, like a sturdy bastion amidst the whirlwind around Leon.

"We're drifting apart. My fiancé's got a fancy for this gentleman whom I had introduced sometime during the holiday. I can't entirely blame her," he continued. "He was elegant. Very charming, I might add. A bit standoffish, perhaps. But definitely attractive in every sense."

He straightened the creased letter over and over. 

"At least he can be by her side all the time," Leon toyed with his fork. "I never thought once that I'd be losing her. We've been friends together with Sebastian. I simply can't imagine the thought of us, well....not being together."

"I'm not supposed to leave this as it is. But," Leon's breath hitched. "I have too much on my plate right now. A part of me wished I could run away. I don't run from problems, I don't. But this? This is something completely new."

When Leon finally raised his head to look at d'Arc, the man was staring outside the window. 

Had Leon finally bored him?

"Choose your battles," d'Arc finally replied. "Be it at home or at the front."

D'Arc snatched a macaron and rotated it between his gloved fingers.

"I have no real experience in matters of the heart," he went on. "But you are a capable commander, Second Lieutenant Bonaparte. Even if you can't guarantee they'll eventually result in victory, you're always willing to see them through."

Leon listened to d'Arc, articulating his words like a saint. Do pious men all speak in tongues?

"Look," Leon countered delicately. "War and people are two very different things. You can't just think about...defeating the other person and be done with it."

Leon sighed. "Friendships may suffer, and hearts can break. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt...us."

"But does it hurt you?" D'Arc asked.

"Huh?"

"Does it hurt you?"

Leon laced his fingers on his lap. Did this cause him to lose sleep? Did it cost him hours of pondering whether the relationship had any hope of salvaging?

If the relationship was even worth salvaging?

"I'm not sure," Leon breathed. "I still love her. Very much. But I'm afraid I won't be getting much rest if I let this on any longer."

"Good," D'Arc nodded. "You can't fight a war while having...troubles from home lingering at the back of your head."

"Troubles?" Leon couldn't help but ask.

"My father," D'Arc confided. "I haven't spoken to my father since I left home. From the letters my brother Pierre sent to me, it seemed he hasn't quite forgiven me for departing."

"I see," it was a fairly common problem among recruits, especially those as young as d'Arc when he enlisted. 

To some, it sustained their will to survive the wars and come home. The less fortunate ones, however...

The coffee tasted bitter on Leon's tongue. D'Arc had to survive, and so did the other countless young men under his wing. Their wings.

Napoleon chuckled. Funny how he was moaning about his love life a moment ago. And now, he was concerned for the younger man's personal struggles.

Friends, eh?

"Is something the matter?" D'Arc tilted his head, exposing a swath of his slightly tanned neck. He had become less paler over the years, Leon noticed. 

"It's nothing," Leon ceased his chuckling. "Tell me more about your family, then, d'Arc."

His chest now felt a little lighter, and Leon decided he'd deal with the letter in the evening. For now, he was content listening to d'Arc talking about the mysterious Pierre and his hometown.

Twilight came, and Leon finally found his courage to write to his fiancé and ask about Herr Mozart.

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"So things didn't go well between both of you," Sebastian confronted Leon one day over coffee.

"I didn't— I haven't told you. How did you know?" Had Leon been too obvious? Or was it Sebastian's uncanny ability to read people?

"She's been writing to me, too. You both broke off the engagement pretty neatly, I must say," Sebastian sipped his mug. "You even wrote to her parents and told your mother. How gentlemanly of you."

Leon was wary of the tone in Sebastian's voice.

"But you didn't even tell me, your friend of ten years!" He hissed. "I thought you know better, Napoleon Bonaparte!"

"I'm sorry," Leon answered sheepishly. "I wasn't sure how to go about the entire issue, even when it was just between the two of us. I wanted to talk to you, but everything was resolved quicker than I expected."

Sebastian's lip thinned. "Congratulations,"

Outside, the wind was roaring, and mist descended upon the camp. 

"So," the grey-haired man clapped his hands. "You're free to pursue whoever you like then."

His friend's abrupt change of demeanor baffled him. "I've just broken things off with my childhood sweetheart. Is a man not allowed to rest?"

"Ah, but she already left you for another man. All while you were moping," Sebastian pointed out, "I'm not telling you to take revenge or anything. But I can see you've already sorted things out in that department."

"I have absolutely no idea what you mean," Leon retorted.

"You've got your eyes on somebody," Sebastian waved his hand. "Nothing can escape me, Bonaparte. Don't think I've been unaware."

"There is absolutely nobody," Leon swore. "I've not met with another woman for ages, and you know that."

Sebastian stepped forward and flicked Leon on the forehead.

"So is that what you prefer, Bonaparte?" The man grabbed Napoleon's shoulders, practically shouting in his face. "Lanky, quiet youths with narrow eyes?"

"I-I don't follow," Leon rubbed his forehead. That flick stung!

"So, you like them beautiful? Okay, I can see why!" The other man continued his rant, "Was I too manly for you? How come you're suddenly paying attention to other men when I'm already with Saint-Germain?"

"The fuck are you even talking about." Leon had all but lost Sebastian at this point.

Sebastian finally released his hold on Leon, who stared bewildered at his best friend.

"You said you had no interest in men when I confessed to you," Sebastian closed in on Leon. "But you're eyeballing Sergeant-Major D'Arc all the time."

It finally dawned on Leon that Sebastian was referring to their budding relationship. Their strictly platonic relationship.

"Is that what you're thinking?" Leon gulped. "Nothing more than brotherly affection. Yes, that's it."

But the slate-colored eyes only narrowed at him skeptically.

"Oh, I give up! I accidentally consulted him about her letters, okay?" Leon gave in. "I admit that's rather private considering I haven't known him for long, but he shared his secrets too, alright? I wasn't the only one airing my dirty laundry out in the open."

Sebastian stared down at him silently.

"What?" Leon frowned. "Are you jealous or something?"

But he was instead met with laughter from the other man. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No, at this point, no." Sebastian giggled. "I have my man, and you get yours. You're free to come crying to me whenever your relationship with d'Arc goes south, though. Consider we're even after keeping me in the dark about your breakup."

"Incomprehensible as always, Adjutant Second Officer." Napoleon squinted his eyes.

"Go at him while it's still eager, then," Sebastian brandished his mug exaggeratedly. "You're not the only one doing the ogling, you know."

"What—" but he was left hanging as Sebastian opened the tent flap and went outside. 

"Time is of the essence, Bonaparte!" The man shouted. "Good hunting, I say!"

Napoleon was left in the empty tent with another headache.

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Leon wondered if there was a sliver of truth in Sebastian's words.

God only graced his most beautiful angels, and d'Arc was one amongst throes of monsters in uniforms.

Some joked that he was a sort of holy man, sent by God from the provinces to aid the Grande Armée in its lowest point. Others say he was, in fact, a he-witch who could not die and could not be grazed by any bullet or sword.

He was a lucky bastard, Leon concluded. A lucky bastard who also happened to be a living embodiment of beauty.

D’arc was perfect in many ways that Leon and his men couldn't be. He was pious, educated despite his origins, and had no interest in women whatsoever. 

The sergeant-major was kind to nurses and milkmaids they met while passing villages, yes. But he was also known to fly into an unexpected rage when he discovered his lads were smuggling wenches into camp.

When teased why he didn't just volunteer to be a standard-bearer, d'Arc simply answered, "You men wouldn't survive a day without me behind the cannons."

It wasn't ambition, Leon noticed. Some men just found their purpose after escaping death after five battles despite no real hope of staying long upon entering the camp.

"I wager he's just horribly repressed," Sebastian joked one evening over wine. "Hey, maybe you'd get a chance with him. With those types, you never know!"

Leon thought of nothing when his best friend suddenly confessed that he harbored feelings for him, back when they were only with the army for six months. He kept mum when he learned Sebastian was visiting their blond doctor after hours and only coming back before dawn.

Hell, Leon himself was been looking forward to a quiet life with his fiancé and their children, back in Paris. He also never expected to be left to continue his life in the barracks, tending to an empty heart and a never ending war.

At least, there was now a face to look for after the smoke cleared.

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"We only had to amputate one of his legs. He'll make it through the night. I guarantee he survived." Saint-Germain's words rang in Leon's ears as he weaved through hordes of medics.

He didn't find Sebastian immediately after they retreated. And now he knew the reason why.

The ward smelled of soiled linen and painkillers. It was a miracle that they found a makeshift hospital nearby, a university building filled with rows of beds and better supplies than what they were used to having out in the fields.

Leon found Sebastian on a bed near the window. There was an empty space where the left leg should have been.

Leon scrambled to grasp at his pale hand, thankfully still warm. Yet the man barely stirred, even as the afternoon light streamed in and hit his bandaged face.

"Sebastian...." Leon whispered, "Can you hear me?"

But the man didn't. The morphine was potent, and Leon was left to stare blankly at his best friend's prone body. 

Nurses came and went, and more soldiers were wheeled in. The clamor inside the infirmary was constant, but Leon was deaf to everything but the slightest rustle from Sebastian's paralyzed form.

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[velvetthunder1999]

All the time on Earth

Part 4 - Butterbeer Moments

Summary: You start to spend more and more time with George, and the two of you slowly start to getting to know each other

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.4K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

- Edited for grammar -

The three of you were sitting in the common room, leaning over the same piece of parchment on the table. Fred was doodling the last line of numbers on the bottom, while you and George were watching him with great anticipation.

“Finished!” Fred dropped the quill and tossed the parchment towards you “What do you think? Brilliant, if you ask me.”

You took the paper and looked over the numbers. You bit your lip, frowning.

“Oi, she doesn’t like it!” exclaimed Fred.

“Or she just cannot read your rubbish handwriting,” answered George to his brother, not taking his eyes off you. “Y/N? How is it?”

“It’s — not bad.”

“Not bad?” Fred was over the top acting offended. “This is the best price-product ratio there is!”

“Well, not exactly,” you said, pointing at the paper. “Look, here. You are offering one piece of Ton-Tongue Toffee for a galleon and a fake wand for three. But the Toffees take much more effort and money to manufacture than the wand.”

“So what are you saying?” asked George. “We can’t raise the price. Otherwise they won’t sell.”

“I’m saying if you wanna keep the price, try combine the two. Have you thought about releasing a booklet? People collect... let’s say ten signitures from you, one after every puchase and they’d get 10% off the next thing they buy. Sell the booklets individually for two galleons but put them in the box with the Toffees and the wand for free. Sell the boxes for five. Then people would buy it more and you get more money for some extra paper. You’ll make profit.”

The twins were staring at you, unusually quiet. You were quite satisfied with yourself. You were only thinking in the way you usually do when running your own business. It worked out for you, three years of success and counting. You didn’t mind helping out Fred and George, since they didn’t sell anything similar to the stuff you were selling.

“Well?” you asked impatiently. “What do you think?”

“You make it so complicated yet so easy” said Fred.

“George?”

“I like it. We can make more money but still not cheating our customers. It’s clean.”

“Yeah, all right,” Fred took the quill again and started writing. “Five galleons you say? Good. I’m showing it to Lee, ask what he’s thinking.”

He snitched the parchment and walked over to the window where Lee and Angelina were talking. You smiled at George and gathered your stuff.

“Well, I have to go to the library. Need to write my Charms essay.”

“To the library?” asked George, distraught. “It’s the middle of the winter break!”

“Well, some of us have to study for the exams, you know.”

“But you’re coming to the New Year’s Eve party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course I’m coming,” you said, putting your bag on your shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” —— You were playing Exploding Snap with Ginny by the window when you heard a loud cheer from the middle of the common room. It didn’t take you by surprise to see Fred standing on the table, juggling empty butterbeer bottles while George was standing by, raising his wand, navigating more and more glasses into his brother’s hand.

“It’s almost midnight,” Ginny said. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

She put down her cards and went to grab two glasses, but her seat didn’t stay empty for long. George left Lee the responsibility to throw the glasses at Fred, and sat down next to you instead.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” he grinned. “But it’s all right now, I’m here to save you.”

“Yes, thank you for saving me from thirty seconds of loneliness,” you laughed, but let out a soft shriek when all the cards exploded on the table.

George picked them up and organized them into one pack. “Actually, I came here to ask you if you wanted to place a bet. The next task is almost here, you know.”

“Yesterday you scolded me for studying during the winter break but now you wanna talk about business?” you teased him. He seemed to like it when you did that.

“C’mon Y/N, business is different than some essay.”

“Wait, so asking for my money is always appropriate?” you pushed his shoulder playfully.

“All right, what about leaving the money out of it? Place your bet, and if you win I buy you a butterbeer at Hogsmeade after the task.”

“Please don’t let him make you gambling, Y/N,” said Ginny, returning with the drinks. She shot a suspicious look at her brother. “You’re not asking her to place bets, are you?

“It’s all right Ginny, George wouldn’t win a sickle from me if I didn’t let him,” you smiled at the boy, who was now leaning closer.

“But the Hogsmeade bet is on?”

“Yeah, sure. One butterbeer on Harry finishing first. Deal?” you offered your hand but when he shook it you felt your stomach jump.

“Deal. Grab your glasses ladies, it’s almost a brand new year!”

George had a really fun night after that, but sometimes he’d catch himself staring at you. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. You two had only been talking for a week and a half after all. Although, he enjoyed talking to you. You always seemed to match his cheerful tone, and you didn’t mind when he was joking around.

He shouted happy new years to you one more time when you decided to go to sleep. You waved him goodbye and he felt that nice warm feeling in his chest again. Was it so wrong, making new friends? He didn’t think so.

——

The next morning everyone woke up a bit late, and the majority of the students decided to hit the library, using the last day of the winter break to prepare for the next week’s classes. George however, had a different idea.

“Please Y/N,” begged the boy. “You already did all your homework. We should just go down to Hogsmeade, really.”

“I don’t know George, I’m really tired,” you said, massaging your temple. You didn’t get much sleep last night. “What about next weekend?”

“We should really do it this weekend,” said Fred, butting in. “We need to ask at Zonko’s if they’d sell our products. And at Honeydukes, too.”

“And why do you need me for that?”

“Well, you and the less handsome twin could talk to one place, me and Lee to the other. Meet up at the Three Broomsticks?”

George threw a pillow at Fred, but agreed to the idea. You also said yes, knowing that you’d just lie on the couch all day anyway.

The four of you headed down to the village, Fred and George walking up front while you were talking with Lee behind them. Then when the first houses started to show, you went separate ways.

“I shouldn’t have dressed this warm” you said, getting rid of your scarf. “It’s really hot today.”

“Yeah, I know” answered George, pointing at the ground. “Snow’s melting already.”

“Good. I don’t like snow.”

He stopped in his tracks, staring at you like he had just seen a ghost.

“What did you say?”

“What? I don’t like it.” you said. “It just makes walking so much harder.”

“All right now, stop,” he said, shaking his head while started walking again. “There’s nothing better than a good ol’ snowfight!”

“Yeah? So winter’s your favorite, then?”

“Yeah — No,” he shrugged, smile on his face. “I like every season for something else. You? I’m guessing winter’s a taboo.”

“I like winter — from the indoors,” you tried to save yourself. “Watching the snow from someplace where it can’t touch you. But I like autumn. It means school is starting again.”

“Well, that was an incredibly horrible thing to say.”

“What? Why?”

He started mocking you playfully.

“School is starting again!”

You pretended to be offended, then continued in a genuine tone.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like being here.”

“No, I like being here.”

“Then what?”

He hesitated.

“Well, mum, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”

He glanced at you. You didn’t want to push him, though.

“Or don’t. If you don’t want to.”

“It’s all right. It’s just that — that mum really tries to push us. She wants us to study hard, work in the Ministry like Percy. But it’s not for us. Not for me and Fred, anyway.”

“So what do you wanna do?”

You still had two years left of Hogwarts, but you knew how hard it was to decide what you wanted to do later.

“Well — er — ” it was the first time you saw a shy smile on George’s face. “We want to open a joke shop.”

“Like Zonko’s?”

“Almost. Only bigger and better than that. With more pizzazz.”

“Yeah, I can see you doing that. I mean, if you keep making those Nosebleed things — and they actually work...” you gave him a snarky look and he laughed “...then why not do it? You’re not gonna be able to work for the Ministry if you just hate every minute of it.”

“Exactly.”

He nodded ceremoniously before opening the door to Honeydukes. He let you go in first, then you two headed straight to the cash register. While George was haggling, you were staring out the window, watching the street behind the shop. Just as you were turning away, you saw a huge black dog crossing the sidewalk. You were quite fond of dogs, so you followed it with your eyes until it disappeared behind a dumpster.

“All right, we’re ready,” said George, claiming your attention for himself again. “Three Broomsticks?”

“Let’s go,” you agreed, walking out the shop. “So, what did she say?”

“She said she’d talk to his husband, but she seemed to be interested. We should come back next week, though.”

“That’s a good start.”

Fred and Lee were not around yet so you sat down to one of the tables in the corner. You ordered two butterbeers and you finally got rid of your warm coat, after it turned out to be such an unnecessary item on this bright day.

“So what about the rest of your family?” you asked. “You said Percy is working at the Ministry.”

“Yeah, my dad also. He collects muggle items, too.”

“Really?”

“Well, more like garbage, actually,” he laughed. “Dad loves muggles. Finds them interesting. Mum thinks he’s mad, but — ” he shrugged “— it’s a hobby, you know.”

“And what about your other siblings? Charlie was just finishing in the year I was sorted.”

“Yeah, he works in Romania now. Studies dragons there. He brought the ones for the first task, too.”

“What, really?” your jaw dropped, then you took a sip. “Well, he clearly deserves all the money he’s earning cause that seems to be the most dangerous job I’ve ever heard of.”

George laughed then he drank, too.

“Yeah, and my other brother works in Egypt. Have you been?”

“Not really.”

“We visited him a year ago, it was amazing. Dad won a prize at the Ministry so we had the mon — er — we had the time to visit everything. Fred and I tried to lock Percy in a pyramid but mum didn’t let us.”

“I wonder why,” you giggled at the sight of his reminiscing face. “So what else did you do there — other than torturing your brother, of course?”

He told you everything about ‘one of his best summers’ as he called it, and you didn’t mind just listening, watching him talk. If two weeks ago someone had said to you that you’re gonna be here sitting with George Weasley, you wouldn’t see the point in that at all. But in this moment it felt like one of the most natural things you could do.

“Do you need another one?” George asked you as your drinks slowly started to run out. You hesitated, glanced at Madam Rosmerta, then turned back to George.

“If I do something will you tell on me?”

“What?” George asked, curious.

You checked the bar again, then took out your wand and held it under the table. You pointed at the glasses, said the refilling charm non-verbally, then watched how the glasses were full of butterbeer again a second later.

You looked at George, a shy expression on your face. You didn’t know what he was gonna say.

“I don’t always do this,” you started. “And I always pay for the first one. But sometimes money just runs short and I can’t always do something about it.”

You casted your eyes down. Suddenly you weren’t sure sharing your secret was a good idea. But George understood.

“No, I get it. I don’t always have much money either. I know it’s — mum and dad do the best they can but, you know — there’s a lot of us” he nodded.

“That’s why you’re trying to sell your fake wands?”

“Mm. Any way is a good way if it makes money. How did you do it, though?”

“Did what?”

“The spell. To refill the beer. You don’t learn non-verbal magic in your year. We only just started doing that.”

“Oh. Well, I learned it by myself. I had to, if I wanted to do stuff like this, you know.”

“But it’s still advanced level of magic.”

“Well, everything’s achievable with enough practice.”

“Blimey,” he said, quite amused. “You really are something.”

You felt the warmth in your chest again. You shot a grateful smile towards the boy sitting next to you.

“Thanks.”

“Isn’t it exhausting? Always studying, I mean.”

“I study while I’m home in the summer.”

“You study in your summer break? That’s outrageous!”

“Don’t really have anything else to do anyway.”

“Well, we can figure out something, go somewhere this summer. I mean, if it’s alright with your parents as well.”

“I don’t think they’d really mind. They’d be delighted, me leaving again.”

“Are they really that bad?” he asked, sadness in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said in a low voice, then spoke in apathy. “It’s okay, though. I got quite used to it by now.”

George opened his mouth to answer but two extra glasses appeared on the table and chairs creaked on the floor next to you.

“You two were really fast!” Fred exclaimed while he and Lee took a seat. “You even had time to start drinking without us. How was Honeydukes, Georgie? What did they say?”

George needed a second to understand what the bloody hell Fred was talking about. He looked at you, confused, then to Lee, then tried to come up with some useful information. But his mind was elsewhere. From the corner of his eye he was watching you. And for the first time in his life he wished if only his brother had arrived a few minutes later.

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 5

A/N:   Thank you so much for waiting patiently for this one you guys x 

If you didn’t catch my life update post, I’ve been busy working on starting my music page @sheispsyche​ (if you want to check it out xx) 

BUT DON’T WORRY!!  I AM STILL POSTING ON THIS PAGE ALL THE TIME!! And updating my fan fictions - business as usual !!! 

This Chapter sets up a whole series of events to follow so stay tuned loves!

Now.... on with the story.... 

(NOT MY GIF - ALL CREDITS TO THE WONDERFUL OWNER) 

2 weeks. I hadn’t seen a single Shelby or Gray in 2 weeks. I’ve been going about my days, mostly surviving by suppressing the memories of Michael’s return. Out of sight out of mind, right? Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

Well, that was until I found Arthur Shelby in such a drunken state that if I didn’t know him any better I would have assumed he was dead. Mumbling, grumbling and slumped over on the floor against someones back door.

The moment I saw him, I forgot about everything. About having to stay away from the Shelby’s. God know’s I have a soft spot for Arthur, and there was no way I could leave him on the street like that. Especially as a Shelby. There’s entirely too many people in this place who would do unspeakable things to a vulnerable, defenceless Shelby.

Most of the time while dragging him back to his apartment, his arm draped across my shoulders, he’s uttering nonsense and reeks of whiskey. A few times he mentions Michael and Gina. I hate hearing their names. At some stages me mentions things not being the same, grumbling about Gina. But I try my hardest to shrug it off, and not read into it. He is completely and utterly wasted.

When we reached his apartment, and I dig in his pockets for his keys, it occurs to me that he doesn’t have them on him.

Of course he doesn’t.

What I do next I do quickly. Through the backs of the streets, I drag him and he stumbles and trips trying to keep up with my pace. I need to get him to the Shelby house and leave. When we come up to the front door step, I’m relieved to see all the lights are off. They’re all asleep. No one is to be seen.

“Alright Arthur,” I breathed heavily as I sat him down on the front steps. I kneel in front of him, making sure he’s sitting up straight and not hunched over uncomfortably “You silly thing” I sigh as I look at him sadly. He always struggled with alcohol.

Unable to risk spending anymore time at their house, I stand up and brace myself to knock on the door and run. With three loud and quick knocks that will hopefully wake someone up, I quickly run away from the house, hiding behind the corner of another building.

My breath hitches as Polly pulls the door open, her robe draped around her. Irritated and sleepy, she begins fussing over Arthur and by then, Tommy has met her at the door. They look at one another in confusion about how on earth Arthur got there, especially in the state he’s in. While Polly stands him up, pulling him inside, Tommy looks out into the streets, his brows furrowed. Knowing Arthur is safe, I leave quickly and quietly darting through back streets until I’m far enough away from the Shelby house to walk back in the streets again, and head up to my apartment.

It takes me a while to wind down once I’m home, but after half an hour the exhaustion gets the better of me. I rub my neck gingerly where it aches from dragging Arthur. He’s not a big man, but I was practically hauling all his dead weight.

God he’s lucky I have a soft spot for him.

As I fall asleep I think of Arthur, if he’s okay. If Polly and Tommy got him inside alright. I’m sure they did. I’m sure he got a good scolding from them both which undoubtedly would have sobered him up pretty quickly.

And I try not to think about the things he said about Michael. And Gina. Something about Michael not being the same? Or maybe it was Gina not being the same? I don’t know. I can’t go over this. I’ve always believed there was some honesty in drunken words. But right now, I don’t want to believe a bar of that. I’d rather just tell myself he was drunk out of his mind and was mumbling anything and everything. For my own sanity. For my own peace of mind.

THE NEXT DAY

I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I wake up in a jolt as knock at my door sends me upright in bed.

“What the fuck” I hiss as I pull my unruly hair out of my face. I glance at the clock.

9am?

Jesus. I slept in. As the knocking persists I grab my robe from my cupboard, wriggling it over my nightgown in a tired and flustered hurry.

“Who is it?” I call as I patter down the hall way barefoot as I fold my arms across my chest tightly.

I’ve god no goddamn bra on.

She the person doesn’t reply to my question but persists knocking, my irritation levels rise. I’m truly not an angry person. But I’m also truly not a morning person.

“Who is it?!” I shout again in frustration as I quickly rush into the bathroom, trying to comb my hair with my fingers before I answer the door.

No answer. Probably a kid playing knock and run. I swear to god if it’s that Timothy boy from the floor below…

Irritation and desperation for the incessant knocking to stop, I give up on fixing my appearance and fly to the door, ripping it open in lightening speed without even checking the peep hole first.

Prepared to launch into a lecture about how knock and run isn’t funny, I’m caught dead in my tracks by my visitors standing before me.

Polly, Arthur and Tommy.

They stare at me in shock, just as taken aback as I am.

Without even thinking, I begin to slam the door shut. Why. I don’t even know. Panic, I guess. Shock?

Just as the door is about the close it is stopped with a loud thud, as Tommy’s outstretched arm holds it open.

Silence follows as Tommy and I stare at one another through the opening in the door.

Fuck.

“Tommy move” I manage to say “I’m not doing this”

“Izzy just open the door for a second-“

I shake my head, my grip tightening around the door knob.

“Well I guess I’ll just have to stand here all day then, eh? Until one of us gives up”

“You’re both too stubborn for that” Polly say’s and Tommy raises his brows at me.

We both know I’m not going to be able to close the door. And we both know Tommy will stand there all day if he has to.

My thoughts are interrupted by the door suddenly the door flying open.

I stumble back, as Tommy stands broad shouldered in my door way, Polly and Arthur watching nervously from behind him.

I shake my head, a lump in my throat beginning to swell. I can’t do this. I don’t want to see them. I can’t. They’re out of my life now.

It’s supposed to be that way.

It’s easier that way.  

Quickly, the lump grows into an overwhelming need to cry, that I can’t control. Tommy watches me nervously, but quickly his face turns into a distraught panic as I clasp a hand over my mouth.

“I can’t do this” My voice is muffled behind my hand as tears well heavily in my eyes.

Tommy rushes forward immediately, reaching out to hold me. Initially I fight against it, trying to wriggle out of his grip. But the weakness from crying makes me give in, and he engulfs me in his arms. His smell, his feel, everything about him feels so foreign but familiar. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a big, brother like bear hug from Tommy. Realising this only makes me cry harder.

“I’m sorry,” he coos as I cry into his chest.

We stay like this for a few minutes, and I can hear his heart racing in his chest the entire time. Just like mine. Knowing how much this breaks his heart, I begin to stifle my cries, and pull myself together.

“Come here, eh” He says to me in a low voice as he holds my face firmly “Just breathe”

His voice sounds shaky, which is something I rarely hear from Thomas Shelby. It almost sounds like he has a lump in his own throat that he is swallowing down.

“Darling, sit down yeah? Arthur will put the kettle on” Polly says gently, nodding at Arthur who rushes to the kitchen beside us.

Tommy gives me one encouraging but worried smile before he lets me go, and I take a seat at my dining table. Tommy and Polly follow suit, and we sit in silence as I wipe the tears of my face. Once Arthur returns with tea, we all take a deep breath in unison to prepare ourselves for whatever is about to come next.

“Isabelle, we need you to talk to us…” Polly begins slowly, before asking the question I’ve been dreading facing for weeks “What did Michael say?”

I rub temples, tension rising as my mind races.

I don’t want to tell them, but I cannot lie. I cannot keep acting like I hate them, just to keep them arms length away and abide my Michael’s request. It’s only hurting them more.

I sigh. There’s no other way to put it but exactly how it happened.

“He asked me to stay out of his way. That he was happy, and if I really cared about him I would leave for him”

“That’s why you left the pub” Tommy says quietly, almost to himself, as he puts two and two together.

I nod, gravely.

Polly shakes her head as she looks away. I know she can’t believe the cold, cruel man her son has turned into. Either can I.

“Is that why he visited you that night?” Polly looks back at me.

“What?” I reply in shock, wondering how the hell she knows that he visited me.

She sighs, taking a sip of her tea “Gina was asking Michael. Pestering him about it. Constantly. I told her who you were. The day Michael came home, I couldn’t stand to see him pretend like he barely knew you. I wouldn’t have it. So since she knew who you were, since I told her, she’s been suspicious” She pauses, looking at Tommy and Arthur nervously before she continues “So I started reading her letters, she was telling her friends that she thinks that Michael went and visited you on his first night back, to sleep with you. That he got it out of his system and now you’re out of the picture”

“Jesus Polly” Arthur exclaims, almost laughing “You read her letters?”

“Of course I did, I read them all. I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her” She scoffs.

“I am out of the picture” I speak up, referring to Gina’s letters “He definitely didn’t sleep with me. He couldn’t have looked like he hated me more”

There’s silence in the room.

“Isabelle” Polly sits up straight in her chair, leaning forward “Michael is my son. But he has been a horrible, cruel, prick. I won’t, I cannot, defend his actions. You, even when Michael was gone you we’re part of the business. Part of the family. Regardless of him or Gina, you’re family. You are family”

Some how hearing Polly say that breaks and mends my heart in different ways all at once.

“And family look after family” Arthur says firmly “Like how you looked after me last night”

My mouth parts slightly. I thought I had gotten away with that.

“We knew that was you sweetheart, thats how we knew we hadn’t lost you for real” Polly smiles at me gently.

I look over at Tommy, he’s the final say. Always.

“We want you back in the family meetings Isabelle, back with us”

No. No. I understand that I can’t continue on avoiding them like the plague. But I can’t - I don’t want to join back into the family. I’ve spent weeks hating every second of time that I remember from seeing Michael with Gina that day. How am I supposed to cope seeing them together on a daily basis.

“I can’t-“ I shake my head quickly, refusing the proposition.

“Michael is not in charge of you Isabelle” Polly replies. But that’s not the problem.

“It’s not that, I-“ I pause, trying to gather my thoughts into words “I can’t see him… with her”

Silence, again.

“The last time I saw him… they way he looked at me” I swallow hard “Ive spent every waking moment trying to get it out of my head. And he wouldn’t want to see me. He doesn’t love me Polly, it’s done”

“Yes he does” Polly says plainly.

I look at her, brows furrowed.

Trust me. I want more than anything to live in denial. But it’s a fact. Michael does not love me. Sometimes, a lot of times in the past week, I’ve been forced to question if he ever did.

“You don’t see him with Gina. How he is. He’s not himself. He doesn’t look at her the way he looked at you. Tommy caught him the other day…” she pauses, looking over at Tommy to finish the story.

“We had some old boxes moved around, stuff from old houses. They were sitting at the house. Gina was out, and when I came into the room I saw Michael holding a picture from Christmas two years ago… Of you” Tommy pauses “He must have found it in one of the boxes… or he was looking for it. I watched him. His was just staring. Frozen. Then when Gina came home that night, he was different. Like deep down his mind was somewhere else. It was with you, Izzy. He just can’t see it”

I know the exact picture. Me sitting on his lap as we laugh. We were always laughing. Always touching in some way. Always. I used to stare at that picture myself, waiting for Michael to come home.

“But I can’t make him see it, Tommy. I can’t make him. Im not going to beg for a man who doesn’t even want me” Saying those words out loud stings.

“Then come back for us, god knows we need you” Polly smiles, reaching out for my hand. I take it, and she squeezes gently.

“What about Gina?” I say anxiously “She’ll have my head if I set foot near Michael”

“She won’t dare say anything around me if she’s as smart as she thinks she is” Polly hisses. I don’t know this girl. Gina. Whatever I don’t like about her mostly has to do with the fact that I wish I was her. But everyone else seems to have a deep hatred for her. I can only imagine what she’s like.

When I have no argument against them anymore, I shrug, sitting back in my seat completely defeated.

Tommy smiles, giving me a wink “Welcome back to the family eh?”

TAGLIST

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@burnitup​ 

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@carezzesuigraffi

[merakiaes]

Worth The Wait - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader (platonic)

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This is not proof-read, so sorry in advance for mistakes and weirdly formed sentences. I hope you like it! 

Wordcount: 3246

Summary: After your sister Martha’s passing, you’re left with John and the children to pick up the pieces. And although your relationship with John ins purely platonic, Tommy can’t help but be jealous of your relationship. 

You were the first out of your sister Martha and yourself to meet the Shelbys.

You were two years older than her, the same age as John, and you and he had been classmates back when you were still in school.

The Shelbys and your family had lived in the same town your whole life, you and John seeing each other in school every day but never really talking. You had only started talking when you were sixteen.

It was around that age him and his older brother Arthur started getting into trouble, always going around the streets and picking fights with people.

Most of the times they deserved it, but still, you weren’t one to just sit back and watch, running in to save the day every time.

The first time it happened, John had been so caught up in punching the other boy that he’d accidentally hit you in the face with his elbow when you had tried to pull him back.

He had stopped only when hearing the sickening crack of your nose, turning back to look at you with wide eyes as Arthur, too, had, finally pulled himself back to reality and was yelling at him to stop.

John had wasted no time in starting to apologize, but rather than cry, you had just held your bleeding nose and punched him right back, before dragging him and Arthur off to clean them up.

From that day forward, you and John were inseparable, tight as two peas in a pod, but only as friends.

People often mistook your close friendship for young love, and it annoyed Tommy to no end, as he had developed a crush on you almost the same instant he laid eyes on you that day, watching with curious eyes as you punched his little brother in the face and then proceeded to scold both him and Arthur like you had known them forever.

Already at that time, you had actually managed to shut them up, having them hang their heads in shame while you cleaned their cuts, and it made Tommy fascinated, as he had never seen someone have so much control over them before.

Not even their aunt Polly.

At that time, Tommy had still been calm, and although sometimes a bit reckless, not half as violent as his brothers. So, most of the times, save a few when he actually joined in on the fighting, he would be stuck cleaning up his brothers with you.

It was two months later that you brought John over for dinner at your house for the first time, despite having been at theirs several times. And it was then John met Martha for the first time.

They took a liking to each other in an instant despite her being two years younger than you, and while you and John stayed best friends and attached at the hip, they started hanging out without you eventually, their relationship taking a romantic turn.

This left you with Arthur and Tommy, but since Arthur was the oldest of the brothers and had to help out with Finn, it was usually just you and Tommy.

You would spend hours on Charlie’s Yard with the horses, and stay out until late at night, just sitting around smoking cigarettes and laughing to the point where you would clutch your stomachs and be unable to breath.

For years, you and Tommy beat around the bush of your feelings to one another, as both of you were oblivious to the other’s emotions.

Tommy finally gathered up the courage to tell you one day, but then the war struck, and he decided to wait to tell you until afterwards, not wanting to leave you with that kind of heartbreak, should you love him back.

And so they left, leaving you back in Small Heath with Martha, Polly, Ada and your nieces and nephews; John and your sister sure had been busy.

You thought a lot about Tommy while they were away, but not as much as you would have if you would have stepped up your relationship before he left.

Tommy, however, thought about you every day, keeping a locket with your picture in his chest pocket, close to his heart at all times.

While away, John would talk about Martha and their children all the time. Tommy wanted to talk about you too, but for some reason, he just found himself unable to admit his feelings out loud before he had told you first.

But when the war was over, John came home and Martha was gone, having passed away in the influenza only weeks before their homecoming.

John was absolutely heartbroken and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t take care of his four children without the touch of a woman.

And so, you stuck around him from the moment he came back home.

Everyday, you would go over to his house with fresh food, getting up early every morning to go to the shop and be able to pick out the best fruit and vegetables before they were gone.

You would make them breakfast in the morning, making sure they were all fed, that the kids were ready for school, and that John actually got out of bed and headed over to the Betting Shop.

You would then hang around the Shelby residence the whole day while Polly and the Blinders tended to their business in the back, but rather than actually socialize, you prepped lunch and dinner for everyone and made sure everything was clean and in order so that Polly wouldn’t have to, taking care of Finn and John’s kids until it was time for the latter to go home to their own house.

All day, you would fuss over John and bid to his every request like you were the one he had married, taking care of his children like you were their mother. At least that’s how Tommy saw it.

He wasn’t the same after the war. He barely got any sleep at night, lying awake and listening to the sounds of shovels digging against the walls with panic, fear and anxiety rattling his bones. He craved for your touch, to be in your arms, but all you ever saw was John.

You knew it sounded horrible, but since they got back from the war, you had barely even taken the time to notice the way it had affected the older two of the three veterans. The only one you ever focused on was John, and everyone could see how jealous it made Tommy.

Before the war, he had been able to keep his romantic feelings towards you hidden good enough, but now, with the turn for the worse that his personality had taken, he was like an open book.

The only ones who couldn’t see it, were you and John, you being too busy to keep everything balanced in his and the children’s lives, and him being too wrapped up in his own chaotic mind to notice.

And though you and John had never been more than friends, everyone were now starting to doubt your constant denies to any romantic involvement with each other. Even Polly.

But they didn’t know that when you had put your nieces and nephews to bed every night, John would lay with his head in your lap and cry about your sister, remembering all of their shared moments and blaming himself for her death.

In what way it was his fault that she caught the influenza while he was away, you couldn’t quite figure out. But then again, you guessed there wasn’t really any logic in heartbreak, which was also why Tommy had been acting like a downright asshole for the past few months.

And today, when John had called for a family meeting in the backroom in The Garrison, was no different.

“Alright, John.” Tommy said in a bored toned as he wandered inside to where the rest of you were already sitting, trying his best to keep his eyes away from him where you sat beside him and sitting down on the opposite side of the table and lighting a cigarette. “Get on with it.”

You instantly glared at him, not knowing what had gotten into him. John was obviously distraught and exhausted, and yet he treated him like dirt.

Polly glared along with you, putting a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “What’s troubling you?”

John took a shaky breath, fiddling with the box of matches in his hand, toothpick hanging from his lips and eyes red from tears and the lack of sleep. “Polly, you know what it’s been like since Martha died.”

Polly nodded, doing the sign of the cross and looking up into the ceiling. “God takes the best first.”

John’s leg bounced under the table with anxiety. He looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded, telling him to go on. “Well, the truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours.”

You looked at him with sympathetic eyes as he spoke, knowing more than anyone how exhausted he was. You wanted to keep helping him, but you couldn’t be with them at all hours every day anymore, as you had picked up a job as a nurse that would be taking time out of your days.

But Tommy didn’t seem to understand at all what he was getting at, only giving him an uninterested look and motioning to his aunt. “Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes.” He then turned to his younger brother, quirking a brow. “Is that it, John?”

“Tommy, we’d be better doing this without you.” Polly scoffed, before turning to John. “Now, what’s you point?”

John cleared his throat, straightened himself up and speaking in a much louder and cleared voice. “What the kids need is a mother. So, that’s why I’m getting married.”

Arthur and Polly shared a hesitant glance, looking between you and John with slightly narrowed eyes as they tried to figure the whole situation out.

Suspiciously, Arthur asked. “Does this poor girl know you’re going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?”

“I’ve already proposed to her and she said ‘yes’.” John nodded, and when he looked at you for confirmation, to which you put a comforting hand on top of his while offering a smile, it was like all of the air was sucked out of the room.

With the suspicions that had been going around your inner circle in the last year, with the way you had been taking care of John and the children, everyone thought the same thing, and Tommy could feel his heart breaking in his chest right then and there.

Like so many times before, he found himself wishing he’d told you about his feelings before he left for France. But it was too late now.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, only leaning his arms forward on the table and looking down, hurrying to take a drag of his cigarette in a desperate attempt to rid himself of some of the anxiety that was quickly building up inside of him.

But it did absolutely nothing to soothe him.

Polly and Arthur both looked at the two of you with wide eyes and flabbergasted expressions.

“I-“ Polly paused, blowing out a breath and shaking her head slightly. “I guess we’ve been suspecting this for a while but we… We were never really certain.”

Arthur looked confused as ever, looking between you, John and Tommy, who was still glaring into the table. “Aye, always thought you had something going on with Tommy boy before we left.”

You and John both whipped your heads around to face each other, eyes growing wide at the realization of what they were saying, catching on immediately, but you were more shocked about what Arthur had said about you and Tommy.

While John looked at Polly with a horrified expression, you simply turned to watch Tommy with widened eyes, only then realizing the way he was glaring into the table.

“What?” John questioned, looking around at everyone in the room with a bewildered expression. “You thought- You thought I meant (Y/N)?”

Arthur and Polly shared a confused glance. “Didn’t you? We just assumed...”

“With he way she’s been ‘elping you…” Arthur joined in, both distraught.

At that, you pulled your eyes away from Tommy and exclaimed together with John.

“No!”

While John only shook his head violently, you scrunched up your nose. “That’s disgusting.”

At any other time, John would have for sure made a comment to that, but now he could only nod along. “We’ve been best friends since we were sixteen. I love ‘er like my sister.”

“Then who are you talking about?” Polly was even more confused now.

John looked to you, and you nodded to him, urging him to tell them.

“It’s Lizzie Stark.” He told them. “(Y/N) and I have never and will never be anything other than friends.”

By now, Tommy had looked up again, and you could feel his stare burning into your face, causing you to turn to meet his eyes.

He wanted to comment his brother’s choice of fiancée, but the only thing on his mind right then was you.

He had never experienced a panic like the one he had felt in the moment he thought you were the one marrying his brother. Not even the war could begin to compare to it.

And everyone else were just as relieved, finally not having to deal with Tommy’s sulky and bitter attitude now that he got another chance to come clean to you about his feelings.

John, however, as he had never thought about his older brother seeing you in a romantic way, only looked confused, eyes flickering between the people in the room. “Why did you think Tommy and (Y/N) was a thing?”

Polly and Arthur exchanged another glance, before turning to look at you and Tommy who had yet to look away from each other. John did the same, and realization finally lit up on his face, followed by narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute…”

But before he could say anything else, Polly had whisked him out of his seat, clapping her hands and beginning to move out of the room. “Right.” She said. “I think we better let these two have some privacy. Go on, out you go.”

“But I-“ John tried to protest, but he was quickly pushed out of the room when Arthur joined his aunt’s side, the two managing to stop him from re-entering together and the oldest Shelby brother only smirking at the two of you before closing the doors, leaving you alone.

But neither of you had noticed any of it, as you were still starring into each other’s eyes.

Tommy’s face was a lot more relaxed now, the cigarette almost burned all the way to his fingers as he had forgotten all about it.

You could see it then in his eyes, the hidden feelings he had harbored for you for so long, just like you had for him. You had always felt some kind of connection with him, ever since you started hanging out alone when John first started courting your sister.

But even then, you had been too self-conscious and insecure to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, your opinion always being that he could get better.

He was Thomas bloody Shelby, for Christ’s sake; he could get anyone he wanted with a simple smile.

Yet, you couldn’t understand how you hadn’t seen it before, the memories of the countless of times you had caught him staring at you absentmindedly when you were younger now coming rushing back to the surface as you relived each and every one of those moments all in one.

Reality suddenly came crashing down, and you finally realized how different everything had been since they came back from the war.

Before the war, despite John still having been your best friend, it was Tommy who had kept you company each and every day. When he came back, you should have seen the impact the war had had on him.

But you had just been so caught up in keeping John sane that you had barely even acknowledged him during the whole year.

The realization filled you with guilt and caused a heavy frown to rise to your face, which instantly had you looking down in shame.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing you could say, looking back up slowly to see Tommy looking at you with a confused expression.

“For what?”

You gave him a sad look. “For denying you my support when you came back. You needed it just as much as John did, and I should have seen it. But I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a small, sad smile, finally letting the cigarette go, crushing it onto the ashtray in front of him. “I suppose it’s mostly my fault. If only I’d told you before I left, maybe things would have been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, knowing exactly what he was talking about. But still, you wanted to hear him say it, asking in a shaky breath. “Well, do you have anything to tell me now?”

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, before finally standing up, straightening his jacket and walking over to you.

You wasted no time in standing up to meet him, your breathing becoming heavier with the proximate position you were now in, your eyes locked together and faces so close your noses were only inches away from touching.

With patronizingly slow movement, he reached out a hand and tucked a small strand of hair behind your ear, his hands then coming to rest on your cheeks. And with a concentrated expression, he finally spoke.

“I love you, (Y/N). I have ever since we first met.”

Your lips tugged into a wide smile and you instinctively leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his as your hands came up to cup the hands on your cheeks. “I love you too, Thomas Shelby.”

A smile to match your own appeared on his face, and only a second later, your lips were pressed together.

The kiss was short and sweet, years’ worth of bottled up emotion spilling out in that one moment and leaving you weak at the knees.

Only when you pulled away did you notice the way his whole body was shaking lightly, a frown instantly rising to your face as you squeezed your hands tighter to his.

“You’re trembling.” You spoke in a mere whisper.

But it was loud enough for him to hear, getting him to let out a short laugh. “John’s engagement announcement gave me quite a scare.”

You laughed along with him, blushing slightly and cringing at the thought of people actually thinking  you and John were a thing.

Tommy grew serious once again, caressing your cheeks gently with a small frown. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

But you could only shake your head with a wide smile, not able to care about anything other than him in that moment.

“It doesn’t matter.” You told him. “In the end, things that are meant to be always finds its way. It took time, but it was sure worth the wait.”  

[darecruit]

First Look at Open Arms, Chapter 17!

Chapter 17: Repercussions

Jack walked back into the house after putting the burgers on the grill and was taken aback by the total chaos going on around him. Lexi was talking in angry bursts punctuated by loud tears, no doubt from the near-perfect, bright red handprint emblazoned on her cheek. Sarah was doing her best to comfort the distraught girl while Diane was yelling to be heard over the pair. John was doing his best to calm everyone, and poor Quinn and Frannie were off to the side, just trying to keep out of everyone’s way. There was no sign of Shelby or Rachel.

Just then, the front door opened and Shelby stormed into the living room. “I’m going to kill her!” he heard his youngest sister say, stabbing at her phone and then bringing the device to her ear. Her face darkened as she lowered it again and began furiously typing on the screen.

“Shelby? Rachel? What’s going on? Someone needs to start explaining, now!” Diane’s voice called from behind Jack. He turned in time to see his mother stalking towards him. She sidestepped him without a second glance, her gaze zeroing in on Shelby. “Where’s Rachel?”

“Of course I’m mad!” Shelby said out loud; it was clear to Jack that his sister hadn’t realized she had an audience. He watched as she shook her head and then took a deep breath before typing something more.

Thinking quickly, Jack reached a hand out and stopped his mother mid-step. She opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head. Shelby had brought her phone to her ear again and this time, sounded like she was actually talking to Rachel. “Let her be,” he said, easily turning his mother around.

“I need to help, Jack. Rachel’s run off and we don’t know where she is. We need to find her,” Diane argued, craning her head to stare back at Shelby. Jack couldn’t help but follow suit. It was then that Shelby noticed them and moved into the hall where she was blocked from view.

“She can’t have gone far. And Shelby looks like she has it handled. If she needs our help, she’ll let us know. C’mon, Ma,” Jack’s was the voice of reason.

Directing his mother over to soothe Quinn and Frannie, Jack’s next stop was his father. “Hey Dad, can you keep an eye on the burgers for me?” That done, he moved to his wife and daughter.

“Hey, bug, what happened?” he asked, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“Rachel happened!” came his child’s angry reply. “She was going off on Quinn for no reason—Quinn’s just tryingto be her friend but I heard Shelby say Rachel’s been acting bitchy to her all week and she’s probably jealous or something. Rachel doesn’t have friends at school and no wonder, if this is how she acts! So I called her out on it and she hit me!”

Jack blinked several times in quick succession, all the while shaking his head slowly, trying to process his daughter’s rushed explanation. His wife seemed to catch the drift much more quickly as he watched her eyes narrow and become stern.

“Language, Lexi—and that was a private conversation between your aunt and I,” Sarah scolded. “You know better than to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation!”

“How am I the one in trouble? Rachel hit me!” Lexi argued back.

“Yes, and her mother will correct her for that. As your mother, I’m more concerned about you and youractions,” Sarah said in a steely voice.

“That’s not fair! I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just overheard while I was taking stuff out to Dad. Not myfault you two were talking where someone could hear everything!” came Lexi’s snippy retort.

“Hey, watch your tone,” Jack warned. “What you heard wasn’t meant for your ears—that’s what your mom is getting at. And you’ve had trouble in this department before, young lady, so I’d knock off the ‘tude if I were you.” He leveled her with a look and a pointed finger—his signature ‘I mean business’ move.

Lexi huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking away from the matching angry frowns on her parents’ faces. She was the victim here, face still stinging where Rachel had slapped her, and they wanted to get on her about some accidental information gathering.

Jack shook his head and met his wife’s eyes. One simple look was all it took to convey a multitude of thoughts—Sarah was his rock and she would handle the situation with Lexi, keep Diane occupied if needed, so Jack could find Shelby like he wanted and offer her his big brother services, whatever that may be. Jack gave his wife a loving smile, leveled his daughter with one last warning glare, and then left the kitchen in search of his sister.

“Well, I think we both know you’ve more than earned a spanking—but it’s not the end of the world—” Jack heard Shelby say into her phone as he came up behind her. He made sure to make some noise so as not to scare her. Shelby turned, her expression guarded (no doubt assuming it was their mother instead) and relaxed when their eyes met.

“Baby, I’ve told you before, I will not let you get away with deliberate wrong-doing—and you’ve done a lot of that today,” she continued. Jack was able to hear Rachel crying on the other end and his heart went out to both mother and child. He could tell that Shelby was frustrated and sad—no parent liked the discipline part of their job—and Rachel was clearly distraught.

“Tell me where you are, Rach. Let’s get you home and—”

A thought occurred to him and he placed his hand on his sister’s shoulder. She looked up and then held a finger up to wait. “The park, okay. I’ll be right—”

“Let me go get her, Shelbs,” Jack spoke then. He had a gut feeling that Rachel needed someone on the outside to talk to before coming home, and it wouldn’t hurt Shelby to have some time to collect her thoughts.

“Honey, Uncle Jack is going to come get you, okay? You wait there for him, he’ll be less than five minutes,” Shelby changed course, understanding her brother’s need to help. It was the big brother in him and Shelby couldn’t deny the calming presence he had on her—Rachel could benefit from that same energy in this current moment.

Jack let out a sigh of relief, his hand moving to his sister’s back to rub up and down as she ended the call with Rachel. He could feel the moment the tension left Shelby’s body.

“Thanks, Jacky,” Shelby said tiredly. “I’m so sorry about—” She waved her hand around vaguely. “—this. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s been acting up all week but I never thought she’d…I promise I’ll have her apologize to Lexi. I’ll take care of her behavior too. I can’t believe her! I’ve been on her recently for her rude behavior—though I don’t think any of that was really on purpose—but this—THIS—is deliberate.”

Shelby was speaking nearly as fast and furious as his daughter had only moments before—the complexity and speed at which a woman’s brain functioned would never fail to astound Jack. He knew Shelby was speaking more to herself than at him, but he felt the need to interrupt her regardless. “Easy there, killer,” he said. “Lexi isn’t completely blameless in all of this. She let slip that she heard some of what you and Sarah were talking about before. I’m sure that had something to do with Rachel’s outburst. And anyway, Shel, kids fight. I’ve found it’s easier to let them figure it out themselves—nine times out of ten it blows over as quickly as it started.”

Shelby scoffed. “Did you get a look at your kid’s face yet?”

Jack smirked. “Yeah. Yeah, I did,” he said. “Rachel’s got an arm on her—that’s not even her dominant hand.”

“Jack!” Shelby gasped.

The older Corcoran sibling couldn’t help but laugh; he thought he saw the corners of Shelby’s mouth quirk up. “C’mon, Shel. I’m just saying, maybe it’s not all as bad as it looks right now. Let everyone calm down and we can find out the truth and go from there.”

“Rachel’s still in a lot of trouble,” Shelby said, her mood darkening. Rachel had a lot to account for, no matter what else happened between the girls. And whatever had pushed things over the edge, the fight had been brewing within her daughter for more than a week now. Whether it stemmed from Rachel’s growing jealousy or perhaps even another subconscious test of the rules and boundaries, Shelby knew she’d have to prove to her daughter that she was here, there was permanence to her presence, and that there would always be consistency and security wherever and whenever she was involved.

Open Arms * Open Arms * Open Arms

Tucked away in the shadows of the playground’s wooden turret, Rachel felt every bit the captured, isolated princess, waiting for either a brave prince to rescue her or else the dragon to come finish her off. The experience wasn’t anything like in the stories. Her face was hot and sticky from tears and sweat—no fairy tale princess ever had to deal with things dripping from their nose or into their eyes. No, their tears were always delicate, beautiful—not this ugly, oozing mess that was Rachel’s reality.

The rumble from a truck pulling up, followed by the slamming of a car door brought Rachel back to the present. She twisted, getting to her knees, and was able to remain unseen while looking out of the little window of her tower. She saw Jack coming closer and couldn’t help but wonder…was he the prince, or the dragon?

Why did he come for her anyway? Shelby had been ready to come get Rachel when suddenly, she was told her uncle would instead. Why? Was she in trouble with him too? She did slap his kid in the face, after all.

“Rachel? It’s Uncle Jack. Where are you, kid?” Jack called out over the playground. He didn’t see his niece anywhere.

Rachel ducked down as her uncle closed the distance between them. She didn’t think he had spotted her yet and wanted to keep in that way for as long as possible—at least until she could figure out if he was mad or not.

Jack caught movement out of the corner of his eye, from the rightmost tower of the play castle. It was the biggest tower and had a ramp leading up inside. Following his gut, he easily climbed the ramp and ducked his head inside the structure. “Hey, Rach,” he said, and the small teen nearly jumped clean out of her skin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, pal,” he added, easing himself into the spot next to Rachel. He cracked the seal on the water bottle he had brought with him and handed it to the sweaty teen.

Rachel eyed him cautiously, but took the offered drink with eagerness. Her throat hurt from all her crying and she was burning up from the overwhelming stuffiness inside her hideout. After several long gulps, she lowered the bottle from her lips and then wiped her mouth against the sleeve of her shirt. Her eyes flicked back to her uncle, who was staring at her with a patient calmness she wasn’t expecting.

“Aren’t you mad?” she asked, her tone more forceful than she had intended, accusing.

“What?” Jack asked, his surprise evident both in his voice and on his face. “Why would I be mad?”

Rachel scrunched up her face in disbelief. “Didn’t you see your kid’s face?”

Jack let out a bark of a laugh; Rachel’s response was nearly identical to that of her mother’s not ten minutes ago. It was wild, really. The look his niece gave in response only made him laugh harder.

“Why are you laughing?” Rachel demanded, defensive. She had the gnawing suspicion that she wasn’t aware of a joke being made about her. “I slapped Lexi, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was offering up that information, if by some miracle her uncle didn’t know about it, but his laughter was unsettling. She needed him to be serious.

“I know,” Jack nodded, sobering at the teen’s expression. He could tell she was upset and on edge and, at the moment, he was only making it worse. “I saw her face. I know you slapped her. I’m not mad at you, Rach.”

“Why?” Rachel couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Mom’s mad at me,” she added as if that decided it all.

Jack sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, well…” he paused, deciding his words carefully. “Your mom’s a lot newer to all of this than I am. I’ve had seventeen years’ practice. Kids fight, and sometimes it gets physical. More often than not, it blows over without any interference on our end.”

Rachel frowned as she considered her uncle’s words. He was definitely more easy-going about this than her mother was…whether that was naturally his nature or because, like he said, he had more practice at it was up for debate. She knew without a doubt that there would be interference on her mom’s end…and Rachel would feel it on hers—Shelby had already said as much.

“Besides, I know Lexi and she’s no angel. She’s my daughter, after all,” Jack tried for levity and wasn’t all that surprised when he fell flat. He opted for a more matter-of-fact approach—it seemed that’s what Rachel needed right now. “I know she heard some things she shouldn’t have and used that information against you. So I understand your anger and why you lashed out. I’m not mad about that, kiddo.”

Wary brown eyes met his blue and he tentatively wrapped his arm around small shoulders; he smiled when Rachel relaxed against him. “That’s not to say I want you slapping her or anyone else whenever someone makes you angry, but in today’s case, I get it.”

“How come you came to pick me up instead of Mom?” Rachel asked. Her mom was all set to come get her—she had asked and pleaded with Rachel over and over to tell her where she was so she could pick her up. Then all of a sudden, she said Jack would pick Rachel up instead. Why?

Rachel felt her face drain as a thought occurred to her. “Is…is she too mad to want to see me? Does—oh, God—does she not want me anymore?”

“Rachel, no,” Jack said, his heart breaking for this child in his arms. He drew her closer to him, wanting to ground her. He could tell her thoughts were miles away.

“Are you taking me somewhere?”

“Rach—”

“Where am I gonna go? I don’t have any more parents to—”

“Rachel!”

Rachel jumped at the stern rumble of her name. Her uncle’s voice was so deep, especially in that tone he just used. It sent a chill up her spine. “Y-Yes, sir?” she squeaked.

“Hey, pal,” Jack breathed, his voice low, soothing. He hadn’t meant to scare the poor girl, he only wanted to get her attention and stop her panicked thoughts. “Easy, sweetheart. Deep breaths, okay?”

Rachel followed her uncle’s directive, focusing on her breathing. In. Hold. Out. Repeat. After several repetitions, she felt her heart start to slow, as well as her mind. She opened her eyes that she didn’t remember closing, and zeroed in on the water bottle she was still holding. She was suddenly very sad, and very thirsty. She finished the water off in two big gulps.

“Better?” Jack asked as the girl set down the empty bottle. She sighed and nodded.

“My dads used to bring me a glass of water whenever I was sad. It happened so often that eventually I couldn’t tell the difference between when I was sad and when I was just thirsty,” Rachel said.

If Jack thought his heart couldn’t possibly hurt any more for his niece, he was grossly mistaken. Not knowing what to say in that moment, he simply held her.

“Your mom isn’t mad at you, pal. I wanted to come get you. I thought you might need someone to talk to who wasn’t as, uh…involved. It has nothing to do with your mom not wanting to come herself—of course she wanted to. And she would never send you away, not ever.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t,” Rachel all but whispered. Jack heard it though, every word.

“Of course I can! I know for a fact that if even by some strange twist of fate your mom even thought about sending you somewhere, I would come kick her ass. I can do that, you know, big brother and all. Ben and Lauren would too. And if they didn’t, Nana and PopPop definitely would! Nana would be on her with her slipper faster than you could blink!”

Rachel’s mouth twitched upwards and she let out a small giggle in spite of herself—the image of her mother being chased around the house by her slipper-wielding Nana was too good!

Jack let out a relieved sigh; he got a smile out of the girl—finally! He disentangled himself from the hold he had on his niece and readjusted. It really wasn’t comfortable in this small enclosed space. “C’mon, time to get out of here. It’s hella hot and I’m getting claustrophobic.”

Rachel’s stomach dropped at her uncle’s pronouncement. The amusing mental image of her mother in the hot seat soured and was immediately replaced with her own very real predicament. She watched her uncle climb out of the tower and suddenly felt claustrophobic herself; her dread was quickly filling every available space in her once-safe hideout.

Not wanting to be alone in that oppressive space, she quickly scurried after her uncle’s retreating back. She accepted his helping hand down the ramp and onto the mulch-covered ground. “Uncle Jack,” she started, feeling the familiar prickle of tears in her eyes. She blinked to clear them. “Do you have to…I mean, can we not—” She let out frustrated breath and kicked at a bit of mulch with her foot. “Please don’t take me home yet. I—I’m not ready.”

[sapphyrelily]

Perils of a Name

Based on another silly conversation me and @fellis-world had.

Please check out the comic that she drew!

A little flame danced above their heads, twisting into different shapes. A translucent mirage appeared next to it, dancing with it, darting in and out of the flames. A laugh bubbled out of her companion and he flicked his fingers, expanding the fire.

Now it was her turn to shriek, and her illusion did the same, darting away and sticking its tongue out. The flames gave chase, and soon they were both in hysterics, pulling their respective magics close to and away from each other, pulling ridiculous faces all the while.

“Stay still, Murasaki,” Eos said, while expanding the flame. “It won’t hurt.”

“Nope.” Murasaki pulled her illusion away, watching it taunt the pillar of flame. “Just because it can’t hurt doesn’t mean I will let my poor illusion be burnt!”

“Aw, you’re no fun.” He made a face at her, then pulled a strand of water to join the flames.

“No,” she muttered, pouting at him. “Now you’ll burn him with steam!”

“Oh, good idea! I didn’t think of that!” He shot her a cheeky grin and went after the illusion again. The mirage threw its hands up and ran, leaving a trail of butterflies behind it.

The twin flames and water finally caught up and crashed down on the illusion, shattering it into a cloud of butterflies. Murasaki’s pout grew deeper. “Eos, you killed him. My poor illusion. What did he ever do to you?”

“I am sorry,” he said, but a smile still curved his lips upwards. “I’ll let you win next time?”

“You’d better.” She knocked his shoulder with her own, grinning.

A cat leapt up to them, pouncing on Murasaki’s skirts. She smiled and reached for it while Eos looked over her shoulder and cooed at it.

The cat rubbed its face on her hand, its copper eyes meeting hers. It let out an insistent meow and shattered, the resulting butterflies swirling up her arm before dissipating into nothing.

Eos gasped behind her, but Murasaki smiled in exasperation. She turned back to her friend, but before she could say anything, he burst out, “The cat! It– It–”

“It was just an illusion,” she reassured. “The other cats are real and around here somewhere. My brother’s come to visit, and that’s his way of letting us know he’s here. He’s downstairs. Do you want to come say hi?”

Eos wrung his hands, still distraught over the illusionary cat. “Yes? I guess? Your brother is also a mesmer?”

“He is,” Murasaki confirmed, standing and offering a hand to Eos. “We’re pod twins, and I thought it’d be funny for us to learn mesmer magic so we could trick others into thinking we looked exactly the same.”

“You don’t look completely the same?”

Murasaki poked him, smiling. “He’s male, I’m female. We look a bit different.”

Eos’ glow flared bright with sheepishness as Murasaki continued. “But you’ll see. We look a bit different in another way.”

“Hmm.”

They made their way down from the balcony, turning down the spiral slope to see a sylvari sitting at the table. He had the same light blue bark as Murasaki, though his hair was a brighter lilac, and his glow was a deeper pink than hers. He looked up at their footsteps, expression hardening as he spotted Eos. “Mura, who’s this?”

Murasaki sighed. “Aeris, be nice. This is Eos. He’s a friend.”

“A friend of what variety?”

“The friend variety. Can you stop being so suspicious of everyone?”

“No.”

“Burn you, Aeris.” Murasaki scolded. “Be nice!”

Eos gaped at him, eep-ing and hiding behind Murasaki when Aeris stood up and strode over to them. He was tall, towering over them by one and a half heads, and it made him heaps scarier.

“My Aeris isn’t this scary,” Eos whispered, clutching Murasaki’s sleeves and shrinking behind her. “Why is your Aeris so scary?”

“Your what?” Murasaki whispered back. Eos didn’t get a chance to reply, because Aeris was towering over them, and it was all he could do to hide.

Murasaki put her hands on her hips, glaring up at her brother. “Aeris. Eos is a friend. We both served under Trahearne. Back off.”

Aeris’ expression softened at that. “Ah. That’s okay, then.”

Murasaki huffed. “It shouldn’t matter how I met him. There is nothing of that sort between us, and even if so, it’s none of your business.”

“Your well-being is my business.”

“I am perfectly grown! I can handle myself!”

Aeris’ nose wrinkled. “Yes, but still–”

“Still nothing. Do you actually want me to burn you? Eos is an elementalist, and he handles fire as well as Aron does.”

“Don’t drag me into this!” Eos whispered frantically, but Murasaki didn’t turn to look at him.

Aeris did. His eyes were fierce, and it felt like he was trying to set Eos on fire with how hard he was staring. It didn’t help that his glow was such a deep pink that it bordered on red, making him look more intense.

“Aeris,” Murasaki hissed, bringing his attention back to her. “We can have a perfectly civil conversation, or I will send you back to the warband in pieces. Rune taught me a few things about hot pokers and heated metal.”

Aeris immediately looked hurt. “Sister, really, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“And I’m telling you that I can take care of myself.” Murasaki sighed, equal parts exasperation and annoyance. “Shut up and sit down, okay? I’ll be right back.”

She pushed her brother away, edging around him. It gave Eos the opportunity to keep using her as a shield, and he was grateful when they reached the doorway of her bower.

“Your Aeris is scary!” He burst out. “And how is he so tall?!”

Murasaki shook her head, a tired laugh slipping out. “That’s why we needed magic to seem more alike. He’s so much taller than me.”

“Too tall,” Eos agreed. “Very scary.”

“You’ve lost all your words,” she teased. “He’s not that scary.”

“He looked like he was trying to burn me! And I can’t burn!”

Murasaki giggled. “Just smack him with some static next time. It makes his leaves stand on end.”

“Does it?” Eos looked thoughtful. “I have to try it.”

“Yes,” Murasaki agreed. “But first… You said 'your Aeris' isn’t so scary. Who’s your Aeris?”

Eos brightened, laughing aloud. “My brother! His name is also Aeris!”

“Yeah?” Murasaki giggled. “What a coincidence!”

“Yes, it’s very funny.” Eos smiled. “I’ll let you meet my brother someday too! Since I’ve already met yours…”

He made a face, and Murasaki laughed. “I hope your Aeris is nicer than mine. Mine is only scary to others, he’s nice to me.”

“He seems overprotective,” Eos pointed out. “And jealous.”

“I know,” Murasaki said, folding her arms angrily and glaring at the room behind them. “What an annoying brother.”

Eos nodded. “My brother is also annoying. He makes me study, and I don’t like studying.”

Murasaki laughed. “Oh, Eos, don’t say that to me. I love studying. I’ll side with your brother on this one.”

Her friend looked horrified. “No! Don’t betray me like this!”

Murasaki edged closer, raising her hands like claws. “Better run, or we’ll catch you and make you read all the books~”

“No! Nononono,” Eos shrieked, dashing out of reach. “Bye Murasaki! See you around, without books!”

Murasaki dropped her hands and laughed gaily, waving at the fleeing Eos.

He didn’t like studying? Oh, he was in for a horrible treat when she met his brother.

-----

Eos waved his brother along, urging him to hurry up. “Come on! My friend’s waiting!”

Aeris sighed. “I don’t know why I have to come meet your friends.”

“Just one friend. And her brother! She’s in the Priory too.” Eos made a face at that. “Ew, books.”

Aeris’ expression lifted slightly. “You made a scholar friend? Maybe she can get you to study.”

“No. Nonononono, she won’t, and I told her that she’s not supposed to help you!”

Aeris smiled slyly. “But brother, studying is important for you to master your magic.”

“I still won’t do it.”

“Eos!” They turned to see a short female sylvari waving to them, tugging a tall male along. She looked happy to see them, but her companion did not, lagging even though she was holding his hand.

“There she is!” Eos waved back with both arms before turning to Aeris. “Stay here to greet them, brother? I’ll be right back.”

He ran off before Aeris could say anything. He eyed the approaching duo, leaning against the railing and folding his arms tightly. Why did Eos have to keep leaving him behind with strangers? He knew how much he hated these interactions.

The female smiled again when they reached him, dropping her companion’s hand and giving him a bow. “Hello! Are you Eos’ brother? He’s told me about you.”

Aeris gave her a small nod, grateful that she didn’t try to shake his hand. He glanced around frantically, wishing Eos would hurry up and come back. These people were intimidating – the female with her exuberance, and the male with his height.

The female’s smile softened at his response, and her voice was gentle, her tone more sincere. “I’m Murasaki. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“Mura,” her companion warned. “You barely know him.”

“It’s called ‘courtesy’,” she hissed, smacking him. “Be polite, brother.”

Aeris was shocked by her abrupt attitude change, but he could understand it. This was her brother. All siblings got annoyed with each other, it seemed. As he was right now – he was annoyed with Eos and where he had disappeared to.

Murasaki’s brother was about to say something when Eos ran up, grinning. “Murasaki! Hello! I’ve gotten us a table over there, shall we go have a drink?”

Aeris didn’t like the mischievous look in his brother’s eye, nor the way Murasaki’s eyes and mouth turned up even more at his suggestions. They were up to something, he was sure of it.

He had no choice but to follow the two chattering sylvari, falling in step next to the intimidating brother. He still hadn’t been introduced to him, and it was a bit rude, even if he didn’t like meeting new people.

They had just turned the corner when he heard a voice call out, “Excuse me, Aeris?”

Aeris turned around, looking for the voice. There was a sylvari he didn’t recognise standing there, but courtesy demanded that he respond.

“Yes?”

Aeris looked up in surprise and found Murasaki’s brother looking back at him. It was he who spoke, responding to that sylvari calling to him. He too, looked surprised.

His confusion was disrupted by the sound of muffled laughter behind them, and he looked back to see Eos and Murasaki covering their mouths, amusement evident on their faces.

Aeris didn’t understand, and glancing back and forth between the sylvari who called him and the equally confused one standing in front of him did not help make it any clearer.

Eos finally spoke up, still shaking with giggles. “Sorry for disrupting your day, citizen! Please don’t mind us.”

The random sylvari looked helplessly at them, then shrugged and walked away. Aeris rounded on Eos, glaring at him. “What did you do?”

“Ooh, he has a nice voice,” he heard Murasaki whisper to Eos, smiling.

“Mura,” her brother cut in, “What is going on?”

“Nothing, Aeris,” she replied brightly, then bit her lip, suppressing more giggles. “Shall we go have a drink, like Eos said?”

Aeris glanced at her brother, understanding slowly dawning upon him. The taller sylvari clearly did not get it, still frowning at his sister. “Mura–”

“Aeris,” Aeris interrupted, cringing internally at how weird it felt to say his own name, “Let it go. Eos likes pranks.”

The other Aeris turned to him, confusion knitting his eyebrows, glancing rapidly between him and his sister.

Murasaki sighed, walking to her brother and taking his arm. “Come on, dumbass. You share the same name, alright? Are you sure Ascalon hasn’t wilted your brain yet?”

Aeris walked after them, falling in step with Eos, who was still giggling. “Eos. Really?”

“You should have seen your faces!” Eos said. “So confused!”

“You are terrible.”

“You’re just no fun.” Eos nudged his elbow. “Let’s have a drink, yes?”

Aeris sighed as he sat down with them. Trust Eos to find a friend who would encourage his pranks.

The other Aeris looked slightly less murderous now, but he still said nothing and simply stared at him and Eos. Murasaki put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands, asking, “So, do you guys have a family name? To call you by, and to make things easier for my brother.”

“It’s not funny, Mura,” her brother said. He sounded aggrieved, and increasingly like a broken record.

“It’s very funny,” Eos replied. “Our family name is Starsong.”

The taller sylvari made an acknowledging sound. “My last name is Blizzardglade.”

“Aeris Blizzardglade? Fancy,” Eos mused.

The other Aeris looked smug. “I’m from the Blizzard warband. And yes, it does sound cool.”

He’s rather arrogant, Aeris Starsong thought. Out loud he said, “Your last name? What’s your sister’s?”

Eos fell silent at that, and Blizzardglade looked away. He looked ashamed all of a sudden, and it made Aeris suspicious. But Murasaki smiled calmly and said, “My last name is Hikyuu. It’s more of a title than a family name. A reminder, of sorts.”

Starsong leaned forward, curious. “Is that Canthan?”

Murasaki brightened immediately, and her brother groaned. “Yes! I thought – well, since my name is Canthan, why not find a Canthan ‘surname’ as well?”

“What does it mean?”

Her smile didn’t waver. “I’ll tell you one day, maybe. Or maybe you can find out for yourself. Names are interesting things, aren’t they?”

“Hmm,” he replied nonchalantly. Internally, he was already itching to return to the Priory archives and find a Canthan dictionary to consult. She’d piqued his interest.

Eos clapped his hands in delight. “You guys get along well! See, brother, you can study with someone else now. Leave me alone.”

“No, you still have to study.”

“No!”

Murasaki giggled at their disagreement, nudging her brother to whisper, “So, what do you think?”

“They seem fine,” he muttered back. “Starsong seems like too much of a scholar to be a threat.”

“For the last time, they’re not threats. Make nice. It’s good to have friends outside the warband.”

“Hmph.”

“Be nice, Aeris. Please.”

“Maybe I’ll try.”

“Thank you. Now have a cookie.”

“You spoil people. This is blackmail.”

“These are cookies,” she huffed. “Just shut up and eat.”

Aeris obediently took a cookie.

[macabretrees]

Title: Reprimand A/N: Read here on ao3 @diversetolkien Summary:  When Aziraphale makes an offhanded comment about snakes and their eyes, Crowley takes it to heart. Upon realizing what he's done, Aziraphale moves to make amends. or Crowley is insecure about a lot of things--his eyes included. Unfortunately, Aziraphale forgets this when comforting a girl who is terrified by a snake toy.

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It wasn't often that Crowley enjoyed his time outside. There was something about the wide outdoors that made him feel exposed. The demon couldn't put his finger on it, but his kind didn't do the light. Not when they'd waged an entire war trying to escape it, and not when they bore the scars of the Fall as plain as day.

Crowley wore the glasses to cover his and had unintentionally evolved the gesture into covering his entire body. He kept to himself often, drew his posture in, and hunched his shoulders. He kept away from people--too close and they'd see his eyes, or smell the burning, or notice the way he leaned too freely like a snake or stayed still like a statue.

And when he had to be in public, it was with Aziraphale. He bared it for Aziraphale. His angel who loved the light, who loved to be exposed, and who loved to be conversational (to the point of dragging Crowley along with him). Today was one of those days.

Between the ice-cream man and the friendly dog owners, Aziraphale had spoken to just about everyone in the park while Crowley lurked behind him. It was hard to make conversation with his partner when he'd given his full attention to the humans, but the demon wasn't too bothered. It was nice to watch Aziraphale interact with the very beings he was meant to protect. It was in his nature after all, and Crowley found himself leeching onto the angel's happiness.

Though today it was short-lived.

Aziraphale was midsentence in his conversation with a park worker about the different types of plants lining the walkway and their care when a child came ramming into his legs at full force. Crowley looked down slightly concerned but hid his gaze behind his glasses. He'd always had a soft spot for children, but this was better left to Aziraphale.

"Oh dear, little one, what on Earth is the matter?" Aziraphale, ever the angel, knelt down to the distraught child's level. She was a mess of tears and hiccups, though upon settling her eyes on the angel she seemed to calm. Crowley kept a distance away, just in case the little girl's gaze wandered.

The little girl, seemingly calm, managed to gather her stammering words and still her quivering lips, just long enough to say two words: "S-snake eyes!"

Aziraphale made to turn over his shoulder, the gesture barely noticeable to anyone accept Crowley. But the girl's whimpers reclaimed his attention, and Crowley's throat suddenly felt very tight. Not to mention, he felt guilty. It was he who caused humanity to fear snake after all.

"What on earth do you mean, little one? Have you seen a snake?" There was a slight edge in his voice, though barely audible to human ears. But Crowley didn't have to think twice to know what the angle worried about. Even with his shades on, at the right angle, the sun could--

"My-my brother g-got a t-toy that w-was a snake and h-he chased me a-around with it, and I-I got scared. It-its eyes were scary, l-like on a movie." Whatever calm Aziraphale had placed upon her seemed to disappear as she willed imaged of whatever movie had traumatized her back into her mind. Once more, she was a mess of tears and hiccups.

Though Crowley was happy. It hadn't been him.

"Oh dear one, come here." She threw herself onto the angle like a life source, her tiny arms trying to encircle his body. For someone who hated getting his clothes dirty, Aziraphale seemed little bothered by a crying child smothering her wet face in his jacket.

"They are ghastly things, aren't they dear. Bright and yellow, positively scary for one such as yourself."

The relief had withered away, and all that was left was a feeling of emptiness. Crowley felt more self-aware than he had in a long time. Bright and yellow? Ghastly? Was that really what Aziraphale thought of his eyes? A hopeful part of him wanted to believe otherwise, but the demonic part of him--the one that whispered uncertainties and insecurities in his ears, learned towards the more reasonable side. The girl hadn't even described what kind of eyes she'd seen, yet Aziraphale had just offered a description of his.

"Angel, I just realized I had some business I needed to attend to." He said with a slight hysteria in his voice, trying his absolute best to sound casual. And judging by the angel's pure obliviousness, he'd accomplished it.

"Crowley do you think you could wait? On top of being terrified this poor girl is lost. I was wondering if you could help me look for her brother! She says he's here."

"Oh, I don't know about that. With the ghastly, yellow eyes, maybe I wouldn't be the best person for the job."

Now there was a realization, and Aziraphale whipped his head around like he'd been slapped.

"I hadn't even realized, Crowley, oh goodness I didn't mean--" He was torn between leaving the girl alone and running after the demon, but ultimately his nature and Crowley's reprimand stayed his movements.

"It's alright, Aziprahle. You said what you needed to say, no use in arguing."

Whatever Aziraphale said, Crowley didn't hear. In a rush, he vacated the park.

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Aziraphale had nearly thrown himself into a mad frenzy searching for the demon. As soon as he'd relocated the little girl and her brother, and given the latter a stern scolding about teasing his sister, he'd made his way to his book shop. It had been a silly mistake, as there was no way Crowley would return to the shop. Not when Aziraphale had hurt him.

Now, his sanctuary of safety had been anything but. His largest insecurities had been spat in his face, and Aziraphale had been the cause of them all. He ran to the phone and dialed Crowely's number, waiting anxiously as the dial tone went on and on. With every ring, his heart plummeted, and when the phone went to voicemail, he stopped breathing.

The right thing to do was to hang up and wait, and while Aziraphale did the former he hesitated to do the latter. Crowley wanted to be alone. That much was obvious. But Aziraphale was selfish at his core, especially when it came to Crowley. What he'd done was inconsiderate and terrible, especially considering how insecure he knew Crowley was. And while Aziraphale meant no harm, his habit of running his mouth had hurt the one he loved the most.

Moreover, encroaching on his privacy would no doubt hurt him more. The angel sighed and redialed Croweley's number. When the phone went to voice mail, he did the proper thing and left a heartfelt message.

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The next day, Crowley stood awkwardly outside of the bookshop just as the sun settled in the sky. There weren't many people out, and they're certainly weren't many people out near the bookshop. According to its erratic hours, today it was closed. That said, Crowley had the key, and was invited to visit whenever he wanted.

However, the more he stood in silence, the more he thought that showing up was a bad idea. There was no telling how Aziraphale actually felt about him, and while he was initially devastated that his angel had found his eyes unappealing, making him uncomfortable would absolutely ruin Crowley.

Right, thought Crowley, best to count my losses and just go back to the flat. No use in c-

"Crowley?"

Just as he made to turn on his heel and disappear, the door swung open to reveal a rather dejected looking angel who's eyes seemed to brighten at the sight of Crowley. And while Crowley's heart jumped, he kept his expression schooled.

"Well do come in." Aziraphale broke the silence and stepped aside letting Crowley enter, and though the demon was hesitant he willed his body to move passed over the threshold. He showed himself to the sitting room as usual, though he stood awkwardly before he took his typical seat, and in fact waited for Aziraphale to seat himself first. Some might call it overreacting, but he genuinely did not know where he stood.

"I got your message." He avoided the angel's gaze as he spoke, instead, looking at his feet against the smooth floor.

"I see." Aziraphale cleared his throat, and straightened himself up in his chair, "You should know I meant it. What I said about snakes and their eyes--"

As Aziraphale spoke, Crowley tensed. He hadn't expected the angel to get to the point so quickly, but he was never one for beating around the bush. Crowley supposed he should be grateful, but acknowledging the situation at hand seemed to hurt him more than he thought.

"Was completely uncalled for. I admit it hadn't even registered to me that I'd offended you with what I said. But then you said what you said, then ran, and had gotten all small like you do when you get upset."

"I don't get all small." Crowley interjected, "I just don't like to be seen."

"Well regardless of what it was, I was in the wrong. There is nothing wrong with your eyes, Crowley. Or any other serpent's eyes for that matter. In all truth, your eyes are some of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

The demon scoffed, "You don't mean that, angel."

He wanted so badly to believe Aziraphale, but he was just so uncertain. If his eyes had truly bothered him, what else about the demon did? And what if he was telling the truth? What if he had genuinely made a mistake. Would Crowley be willing to risk an episode like this again?

"I don't lie, Crowley." He was upon him in a second and had moved so quietly that Crowley hadn't even noticed he'd left his chair.

"I do, however, run my mouth. And I will endeavor to watch what I say in the future" Now his hands had made their way to the handles of Crowley's glasses, and gently he removed the shades from the demon's face.

"But make no mistake Crowley, your eyes are beautiful. You are beautiful. And that is something I will never take back"

Crowley would have looked away, but Aziraphale's gentle hold kept him from doing so. And in the angel's eyes was pure remorse and genuine love.

Suddenly, Crowley felt foolish for even making a fuss out of it. Maybe he could have just asked Aziraphale how he felt instead of storming off.

"I'm sorry for overreacting, Angel," Crowley said as his own fingers wrapped around Aziraphale's wrist.

"Nonsense, you're entitled to your feelings." Aziraphale chided, "never feel bad for speaking out."

Crowley sighed, and let his face lean in Aziraphale's grasp.

[overdorks-blog]

HanMei (if you heard of the ship) and what if Hanzo was walking minding his own business when Snowball suddenly appeared and asked for help. Hanzo follows and finds a drunk Mei. He carries her to her room, and she asks him to stay with her.

Sorry this took so long to get to you! I’ve just been so uninspired recently. 

Also, whoops. There was angst. My hand slipped. 

————————————————————–

Hanzo didn’t come to Overwatch to make friends. The true and genuine reason he appeared at Watchpoint: Gibraltar, was because of his brother. Even now, in the time that he had been there, even though Genji seemed glad to see him, constantly, Hanzo couldn’t help but feel that their relationship was rocky. That Genji was saving face around him for his own comfort. His brother was an entirely different man from all those years ago, so Hanzo couldn’t at all be sure. 

But he stayed, regardless of how he felt things were going, because he felt obligated to try and make things work out here, if nothing else. And make things work he had, certainly. 

There was Genji’s best friend, Jesse. He was…an interesting character. Loud, bullheaded and brash. He was about as typical as an american stereotype can be. But the man had a good heart and seemed to cre greatly about the organization. There was Hana, the teenage warrior with an affinity for modern technology, and an online persona that of a girl with no insecurities and endless confidence. She would chat at him excitedly in Korean and take unflattering pictures while he wasn’t looking. The list of characters went on, and Hanzo got to know them each as well as they would let him, or as well as he would let himself. 

Hanzo could call them friends, he supposed. Did he expect to find someone beyond that? Certainly not.

He had met Mei in the shooting range in his first few days on the base. The woman had been squinting slightly in focus as she shoots ice crystals out of her contraption and into the chassis of a training bot downrange. He frowns a little, watching her. She seems to be doing fine on her own, and interjecting advice at this point, Hanzo decides, would be rude. Surely, if she was on this team, she was more than capable of handling herself. Even if her posture for such things was absolutely awful.

Uncasing Stormbow, Hanzo slings the quiver over his shoulder and finds a high up place where training bots ‘patrolled’ by. He dispatches them with ease, turning slightly to tag the few stationary bots within his line of sight. It was horridly simple, but he refused to adjust the difficulty settings while someone else was in the training area with him. 

He feels eyes on him and turns, and the scientist seems to jump a little, blushing at being caught. She stammers something about needing to leave in Mandarin, and makes her escape quickly. It confused him, at the time. 

It became more clear, over the months. He would stumble into the kitchen in the morning to find her sitting over a large amount of sweet sticky rice, far too much for one person to eat on their own. she would always smile and offer him some, and he would take it, because….well he wasn’t entirely sure why. Perhaps it was how she sounded still tired in her yeti pajamas, how hopeful she looked when she asked him if he wanted any. He couldn’t say no. 

And it only escalated from there, he would say. It went from her offering to share, to them making breakfast and eating together. Sitting and having tea and chatting in Mandarin or Japanese, whichever one they happened to fancy that day. 

Of course, Hanzo would never admit that his feelings for her went beyond that of friendship. A relationship in a place like this, with the lives they had wouldn’t be beneficial to anybody, and could put anyone here at risk, including themselves. 

~~

Today in particular, Hanzo had been resting. After a mishap in a mission, he had hit his shoulder harder than he should have when breaking his fall. He miscalculated, is all, and he was certainly feeling it today. 

At least, hr had been resting. Something cold nizges his arm and his eyes open, frowning and looking down. There, pressed against his arm, was Mei’s assist-bot, as he had come to think of it, not quite sure if the thing was a robot or an omnic. Either way, it was her companion. What was it doing so far into the base, and away from her lab or her room? 

“What?” He demands, and the flaps on the side snap down and it sinks a bit, before nudging against his hand. He pets it, as Mei often does, but as soon as his hand is over the top, it darts away, as if attempting to pull him out of his seat with his hand. 

“Ow- hey!” He scolds and snowball whirrs at him insistently. it goes to the door and then back, whirring and chittering at him. “You…want me to follow you?” He inquires, and the flaps on the side come up and it comes back to him. That seems to be an affirmative, but Hanzo isn’t sure. He stands and the bot races to the door, confirming his suspicions. “Fine- I will follow. but what is the meaning of this?” He asks, and snowball whirrs. 

That isn’t at all helpful. He sighs and resigns himself to following the bot. 

It leads him into the lab area, most of the lights are off. Mei, in those adorable yeti pajamas, looks to be pouring over data, she looks over at Hanzo when he enters, turning away quicky and wiping her face. he frowns, approaching her. “Mei, are you alright?” 

“I- yeah!” She turns around beaming at him and brushing some holoscreens into a digital folder behind her. Her eyes are red and her face is heavily flushed, almost entirely red. It’s more than clear that she’s been drinking. Now, Hanzo was no stranger to having a drink, and, yes, occasion getting drunk. There was nothing wrong with either of those things in moderation, but Mei was clearly also upset. 

“I was just- There’s still so much data from when I was- yeah.” She nods, eyes focusing on something on another desk, and she goes for it, stumbling over her own feet before she gets there. Thankfully, she’s caught by a strong, dragon-tattooed arm rather than the floor. “Be careful.” He chides, and Mei frowns childishly. “I don’t need your help.” she huffs, fixing her glasses and gently pushing his arm away. 

He frowns as she moves to the desk, shuffling through papers, shaking her head and and lifting her glasses to rub at her eyes. She sniffles and HAnzo frowns, sighing softly. “Mei-san. You’re distraught.” He isnists, and she looks over at him, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. 

“I- My team, Hanzo. I- I have to do this. They- I was the only- I can’t just-” 

Her shoulders shake and she hands her head, and Hanzo can’t help himself but to wrap his arms around her. she had told him about how she returned to Overwatch, waking up on Ecopoint: Antarctica and her entire station’s cryochambers being compromised after nine years of sleep. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” He decides, pulling back and tucking a bit of hair behins her ear. Mei frowns, starting to protest. “Hush.” His instruction is firm, but gentle at the same time. “You are intoxicated, and hardly in any state to be reviewing data. We will get you some water amd to your bed.” Her eyebrows knit and it looks like she’s going to be stubborn and protest again, but she relents, looking away and nodding. 

He steps back and she turns towards the doorway, taking a few uneasy steps before stumbling over herself again. She was more drunk than Hanzo originally thought. He catches her again, this time scooping her up to carrt her against his chest in a cross between bridal-style and the way one typically carries a child. She huffs, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “You don’t have to carry me.” 

“I do, if I don’t want to guide you across the base like a blind dog.” He answers easily, and she sighs, giving in. He feels strange, carrying her like this into the women’s barracks, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He approaches the door and she prattles off her door code, him fumbling a little and adjusting to put it in without dropping her, so he gently sets the woman back on her feet to punch in the numbers. 

The door slides open and he turns on the light. Mei seems to have figured herself out enough, shuffling instead of trying to walk to her bed.  She sits on it, and looks at him, taking her glasses off and her hair down, fluffing it out of it’s neat bun with a clumsy hand. He blushes, looking away and clearing his throat. 

“I- I suppose this is where I take my leave.” he nods as she adjusts her pillows and blankets with immense concentration. “Oyasumi, Mei-san.” 

He turns the light off, sure to leave on the lamp by her head as she gets settled in. He sighs down at her, petting her head once before straightening up and going to leave. “Wait.” She sits back up a little, frowning at him. “will you stay with me?”

“I- hardly think that’s-”

“I hate waking up alone. Not after Antarctica.” She blurts quickly, recoiling a little at her own words and looking at the ground. Her face would be redder if it was physically possible bast her drunkenness. “B-but If you don’t want to, then that’s fine, I just-” she’s backpeadling already, but hanzo gives her a small, sad smile. 

“If that is what you want, Mei. I will stay with you.” She nods once, and he moves to sit on the bed with her, laying out beside her. She turns over to snuggle against his side, a fuzzy, blue cloudy blanket between them. He wraps an arm around her, looking down at the woman, already falling asleep again. 

“You will never wake up alone, then. If that is what you want.” He rumbles softly