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adriellej · 5 months

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Sorrow

Warnings: Mentions of death (both person and pet), grief, angst.

Pairings: Sort of Harry x Reader

Word count: 2K+

A/N: So the pet is written like them/they and pet, I’ve done this in hopes it would be easier to relate to. It’s been 2,5 years since I said goodbye to my horse through 12,5 years, and I more often than not, cry a lot when I think of her. So this piece kind of came from one of those times when I break down completely. The grief is also written as how I feel it and how my last goodbye was with her. I cried a lot writing this, but it was actually quite nice to put it down on “paper”.

Things in italics are Harry's side of things.

GIF's aren't mine - Google and here!

You had made your way to Harry’s room in the labs. You knew that he was rarely there and the others from team Flash never went into his room, knowing that the grumpy scientist would throw a tantrum.

You closed the door slowly to make sure no one would hear you, as you leaned on the door with your hand on the knob, the tears were silently falling from your eyes. You had tried so hard not to cry, but sometimes the grief snuck up on you, and it was overwhelming.

You slowly turned around and made your way to Harry’s bed. You knew you two weren’t together, but his smell was soothing to you, so you did what you always do when grief hit. You curled yourself up in his bed and snuggled into the pillow, your phone in your hand.

Unlocking the phone a photo of them showed up and a sob escaped your lips. Your beautiful pet. You’d had them for years, it was your best friend, your entire world, the one who helped you to become the person you are today. They were your everything. Your world had broken completely down when you had to say goodbye to them.

“Why is there a good in goodbye? It’s never good,” you cried feeling the pain you always tried to hide and bury so far away. The pain was so heartwrenching and it felt like your heart was smashed into a million pieces all over again.

You continued to scroll through your phone, through the many photos and videos of them. Once in a while, a tiny smile crept onto your lips, only to be replaced by more sobs and cries. Whenever life got tough, you ran into problems, your life hit a reef, or hardships, they would be right there beside you.

“I miss you so much,” Your hand found its way over your eyes as the tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks, and cries kept coming out of you.

You continued your journey down the rabbit hole. Seeing video after video while curled up to Harry’s pillow. You were holding your free hand under the pillow tugging it up to your cheek.

You were so lost in the memories that you didn’t even hear when the door opened.

Harry was looking down while stepping into his room ready to call it a night, for once at a reasonable hour. He had worked on enhancing some of Barry’s equipment, and to be honest, his head hurt a little from all the overwork he was doing lately.

As he looked up he didn’t expect to see you curled up in his bed, cries escaping your lips and leaving you in a shaking mess. His mouth found itself open and suddenly he felt somewhere between not knowing what to do, and just wanting to wrap you in his arms. So he just stood still for a moment, hoping that you would realize you weren’t alone anymore.

You didn’t seem to notice, so he cleared his throat.

Your head whipped in the direction of the sudden sound in the room. Your eyes completely glazed over with tears making everything blurry. Harry had, the one time you needed no one here, chosen to go to bed before it was the new morning.

“I’m so sorry Harry… I- I’m just gonna go,” You said while fiercely wiping away the tears and standing up. Trying to beeline to go straight past him and out of the door, Harry left his arm out before you, forcing you to stop before you could run off.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with his low and hoarse voice while turning to look at you. You ever so lightly turned your head to briefly look into his piercing blue eyes. Once again the tears fell vigorously down your cheeks.

“You really don’t have to worry about it Harry, it’s okay,” You said sniffling as you wiped your tears away again, willing them to stop falling.

“I can’t just let you leave knowing there’s something wrong,” He continued pressing on. He turned towards you and slowly wrapped his arms around you. You tensed up at first, not knowing what to do with this new situation, but you quickly relaxed as you let go of everything.

You grabbed a part of his sweater in your hands as you pressed towards him. You felt so safe, so protected by his strong arms. His smell was way better, when close to him than his pillow was. None of you talked, you just stood there for a while crying into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head.

The pain in your chest was so strong that you forgot to breathe. The hug helped a little, but because of the way you were always trying to hide it, the agony, the grief, and the loss of your best friend were too much for you.

It felt like your heart was going to be ripped out of your chest. Like there was no room for air in your lungs. Like you could throw up because you could feel it down into your stomach. The crying only got worse as you started to shake in his grasp.

Harry didn’t know what was happening, all he knew was that you needed to start breathing.

“Y/N, I need you to breathe for me, okay?” He tried slowly to get your attention, but you didn’t reply to it. He wasn’t even sure you had heard him. “Y/N, breathe,” He tried a little louder while squeezing you. “Just follow my lead okay? Breathe in,” he held his breath for a few seconds before letting it go again. “And breathe out,” He continued to do it, hoping you would catch on.

After what felt like forever you reacted and started breathing with him. The sobbing subsided little by little as time went by. He kissed the top of your head as you continued to breathe together. Harry didn’t know how much he could push you or if you even wanted to talk to him. He hoped, prayed even, that he could do something for you, to help you through whatever you were going through.

“I’m sorry Harry, it’s just that sometimes my grief gets the best of me,” you spoke so lowly that he barely heard you. Harry felt a small pain in his heart, knowing how bad grief could be. Even more so, how hard it can be to go through alone. Not that he knew what you were grieving, because you had never talked about losing someone. “They were my best friend,” you continued mumbling into his chest. “They weren’t human, which makes this all the more stupid… it was my pet, but they were there for the most of my upbringing. I spent my entire life and time on them… only for them to leave me behind when I needed them most,” Harry listened as you continued to talk, letting you have all the time you needed to get through it.

“It’s not stupid,” He slowly spoke while still cradling you in his arms. “Grief isn’t any less just because it isn’t a human being, Y/N,” he said slowly pulling you out from his grasp and looking at you. Your eyes were all puffed and red, cheeks stained in tears as you looked down. It was hard for him to take. His heart ached for you. “C’mon,” he said reaching out his hand for you to take.

You weren’t really sure if you wanted to talk about it. Harry had pulled away and was trying to get you to come with him. You stood still for a long time, Harry’s pleading eyes on you. You slowly took his hand in yours and let him lead you towards his bed again. This time having you sit down with Harry. Harry took your shoulders and turned your back towards his chest and lined you between his legs. Wrapping his arms around you he softly spoke;

“Care to tell me about them?” You looked up at him, a small reassuring smile on his lips. You took out your phone again and found a photo of them.

“They were just so beautiful, potentially the most beautiful, loving, and caring soul I’ve ever met. They were there for me when no one else was, when I felt alone in the world, when life got hard, they were right there by my side cheering me up,” you spoke as you scrolled through photos and videos for Harry to see. Your tears started to fall again.

“I don’t know how to keep going. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Making that choice. Saying this was the end because I owed them to let them leave with dignity.” The pain of that choice started to fill up in you again. If it wasn’t hard enough saying goodbye, you also had to be the one making that decision, because you owed that to them. “I knew that day would come, but it’s like you just forget that it has to be done somewhere along the line. I never had anyone but them. Not even when I was in a relationship, because those all went to hell, and guess what Harry.,” you said as your tear-filled eyes looked up at Harry, and he looked down into your eyes. “I made it through because I had them with me. I felt free of all the pain when they were close to me,”

Your voice was so shaky compared to what Harry was used to. You used to be full of confidence and joy, like nothing in the world could bring you down. He was looking through all the memories of you and them together, as you scrolled through them and talked about it.

When you landed on a certain video, your breath hitched in your throat and a big whimper fell from your lips. Your head fell forward in between your shoulders and you began to shake all over again.

Harry looked at the video. It was with them, cuddling up to you as you wrapped them in your arms and spoke softly. “It’ll be okay. I’m gonna be okay. You just take good care up there, and I will be right with you. Before you know it.” Tears were silently falling on your cheeks in the video, you were kissing them and squeezing them tightly into you. They looked at you, nuzzling into your side like they were telling you it was okay, that they were ready. The video stopped with the last frame of you kissing them one last time.

Harry’s eyes brimmed with water remembering what he had said to Tess when he lost her. He cradled you more into his arms letting his head lean on yours. A stray tear escaped the corner of his eye, landing in your hair. He understood the pain you were going through. The memories, for the most part, were amazing to have, but on other days they were like torture.

You moved in his arms, turning to face him. Upon seeing the tears in his own eyes you laid your hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. Harry’s eyes looked down at your hand on his arm, and he gave a small smile to you, thinking about how you were always reassuring everyone else; even when you were in pain.

“Does it ever get easier? Does it get better?” You almost breathed out. You had removed your hand from his arm, folding yours in your lap, your eyes fixated on them.

“I wished I had all the good answers Y/N, but to be honest I don’t know what to say. Yes, it gets better as time goes by, but the grief doesn’t necessarily get easier to handle. The pain will always be there, but you learn to look at it with a smile as you remember all the good memories,” Harry tried to speak as softly as he could to not start a new lavine of shaking cries from you.

Your eyes focused on your hands in your lap as Harry was speaking. Your eyes spilled over with tears again. Not with the same kind of pain as before, but with the small hope that Harry was right. That the memories would become good ones you could smile about, and not just the remembrance of them not being here anymore.

“Thank you, Harry,” you croaked out as you wiped the last tears off of your cheeks with the end of your sleeve. He looked at you with such care and reassurance in his eyes. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you have to go through this, but you don’t have to do it on your own if you don’t want to,” He said it in a way you knew was a promise. A promise to help you if it all became too much for you to bear alone.

Tag list:

@hiddenwritingsintheworld, @sarawritestories, @brianllamawrites

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witch-hazels-musings · 2 years

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Hey there Hazel! I've found myself in a bit of a..predicament. Recently, I decided to revisit the new account of a writer whose old account I'm currently following only to realize that I had been blocked on their new account. Confused by this, I sent them a message pointing it out and apologizing in case I did something to upset them (i.e spam liking since they are one of the few authors I've come across to not exactly be fond of that, and I've been guilty of such in the past) but then I realized I had only interacted with their new account once, which made me even more bewildered. So I decided to ask what another author may have thought about this and they said that it may have been because I have a "blank blog" and that I shouldn't reach out to anyone to ask why I've been blocked (keeping in mind, I never did ask why. Just apologized.) because it can make someone uncomfortable and they "don't owe me an explanation for protecting their own space" which I completely understand. It is never EVER my intention to make anyone uncomfortable.

I had not the faintest clue that a blank blog can be seen as..offensive somehow? In reality, I had been building the courage to start reblogging and even possibly writing one day, but I've been moving at my own pace since I'm a generally nervous person in almost everything I do. Just recently I've been quite proud of myself for being able to send in asks/messages without being as nervous as the first time (I was an nervous wreck that time) but now because of this situation, I feel like I've moved 10 steps back. I've been overthinking this for almost the entire day and it's honestly extremely overwhelming since on one hand "wow, I can be blocked for a blank blog?" And the other "wow, now I've upset 2 of my favorite writers".

This has been weighing so heavy on my mind that truly, I feel quite deterred from interacting with anyone because of it but I want to keep trying since one day, I would like people to read my stories and I wouldn't want reblogs or anything in return, just to know that people are content with my writing. You are the only person that I've thought about reaching out to since you're so understanding and give amazing feedback and I hope to be as mature as you one day(once I get past my anxiousness).

TLDR: In case of anyone being in the same boat as me, do you have any advice on publicly writing and handling the anxiety that comes with putting out that first piece? I'm deeply sorry for the ramble and hope I was as clear and concise as possible. (And as you can see this whole thing was exhausting to the point that I'm not bothering with any anonymity)

This got a little long so read more below the cut! (Also I'm on mobile so I'm not gonna italics below... because ...work)

I can't imagine the confusion of returning to check out an author you love only to find out they've blocked you. Especially if you aren't sure what happened to cause the block.

So you've asked a question here, but your comments are of a different issue so I wanna answer both

There are so many reasons why a blog might block another. I've seen all sorts of rules posted, so I want to explain some perspectives as to why. --

Don't spam like :: some people get overwhelmed by notifications, others believe it'll lead them to being shadowbanned (this isn't true, idk why people think that), lastly - and in my opinion the most important - likes do nothing for creators. They are nice, but they don't help creators get their work seen

I know you said your working up the courage to reblog and interact, so think about your blog as a little scrapbook that you want to save and look at later. That's what Tumblr is.

Creators need your reblogs or their posts die. That's it, that's how Tumblr works.

Ageless and blank blogs :: these are more comfort level for creators. They are different person to person. Ageless is scary for adult vs minor interactions, and blank blogs are often bots (spam accounts) - so some blogs block all of them

My advice is make your blog your home before you go out into the world..it's your safe space, your happy place, so make it how you want!

DNI/BYF :: DNI (do not interact), BYF (before you follow) are great things to check out when first encountering a blog. It'll outline the rules of the author and it's possible you did something on that list that they didn't like (it can be hard to know, so check for those before interacting)

These are just a few reasons why, and I know it doesn't tell you what happened but maybe it'll bring a little background.

I'll also say that while people are allowed to set their rules, of course, still I'm sorry you were treated the way you were when figuring out why. No wonder your nervous to interact with people. Some of the interactions I've seen are ... Kinda not nice.

You're always welcome here to practice and grow more comfortable! I'm happy to help and encourage you!!

As for your second question, honestly, you just have to go for it!! If you've written something and you love it, you have to rip off the band-aid and post it.

See how it goes and learn from everything around you. I made plenty of mistakes when I first started so ask if you get lost, be open to feedback if you've made an error, and stick to your values ♥️♥️

Check out my pinned post on my blog for some writing blog 101 guides if you want more info!! And reach out if you need something.

Here's another thing, if those blogs are not going to give you a chance, there are others that will and who want you to succeed. Shrine bright firekeeper, you got this 🔥🔥

#hazelmail #coffee elixir #hazel aid #cw long post #long post

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candysweetposts · 2 years

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I made a short chapter about this. It's very experimental and I'm not sure if anyone gets why I did, but here it is anyway. Oh, and this was written with different fonts and here there aren't many so I used italic instead of what I originally had (Courier New).

11 am, Rawell South, 3rd of July 3022

The weather is stable. Tomorrow I will head to the “Parts & Crafts” to upgrade my voice box. I keep hearing glitches every time I try to speak. Like “nails on the chalkboard”. But nothing stops me from working. Sometimes it is helpful because it makes my target confused and this way, it will let the guard down.

Today I meet an android who seems agitated. It acted almost human. Strange. I thought we could not do that. It must’ve been one of those prototypes. I checked and saw the first initials, “SAP”= “Sourced Asset Prototype”. This means that they want to make more who have more human features. But it’s useless. We don’t want that… LOW BATTERY! PLEASE CHARGE! LOW BATTERY! PLEASE CHARGE! SHUTTING DOWN!

5 pm, Rawell South, 4th of July 3022

The weather is stable. I got a new gig.

Target name: GYO200344111000

Location: Prime Club

Personal note: -Just fucking get rid of him-

I often encounter clients who don’t have a reason for targeting, but this one… makes me uneasy. I don’t care as long as I get paid.

I’m heading to the location. Tall building, approximately 70 meters tall, and pretty populated. Nothing unusual, only androids and a few humans looking like they enjoy themselves. The music is loud, but I don’t mind it. The sound is actually relaxing. The techno genre it’s at its peak this year. But I cannot get distracted. I enter the building. I look to my left and then to my right but no sign of this GYO20. In front of me, there is a bar serving liquids that emulates alcohol. I don’t understand why would anyone drink something like that. SO DISGUSTING! But regardless, I take a seat and check some more. Nothing. I suspect this was a scam. But I decided to wait some more. Nothing. I wait and check some more. Nothing. I check the outside of the building, upstairs, and on the roof. Nothing. I get back to the bar and sit. NOTHING! THERE IS NOTHING… ERROR 500!

SYSTEM RESTART! WELCOME BACK!

“Hi! Are you alone?” A voice said then he turned his head just to see a blonde lady smiling at him.

“H—uh?” WARNING! OVERHEATING!

“Uh, sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you. But you really got my attention for some reason” she said flipping her hair over the ear.

“N-no! I do not fe—el anything like that n—ow” STABILIZING SYSTEM!

“Oh, that’s good then. What do you have there?” she points at the helmet placed on the bar.

“Uh…It’s j—sut a helmet. It’s very h—elpful especially at w—ork”

“Can I have a look?”

“S—ure.”

10 pm, Rawell South, 4th of July 3022

There are signs of rain. I just encountered this very strange android. Second one this week. Strange. It’s a female-looking one. Not so tall, approx. 165 cm, blonde hair, blue eyes and it’s wearing “civilian” outfit made from an oversized red shirt with plaid that is torn here and there, a black dress and black boots. It also wears a collar that I suspect it's not just actually an accessory. I tried to search it the database but nothing about this model. Its said that I got its attention somehow but I suspect it’s something else. Its is looking very intrigued at my helmet for some reason, like a child. It’s very interesting to say the least. I noticed that the ring lights from my irises overheat when I look at it. It’s probably because I’m hyper analyze it. It’s just so… human. The way its acts and speaks, like a real woman from movies.

“Do you drink?” she asks all of the sudden.

“Huh? N—o. I d—on’t”

“Aww, too bad” then she turns to the bartender “One H.F. please”

“Alright” says the bartender.

I watched how the drink was prepared. Nothing exceptional about the drink itself but still, this simple process looked so interesting. The way its adds the different liquids… like a chemical experiment

“Here’s your drink”

“Thank you” she says and then takes a sip. “I never asked for your name”

“It’s— DAI02”

“Mine is ALX34 but you can call me Alex”

“A—lright, Alex” NAME ADDED TO THE PROFILE!

“So, you said something about work. What to you work?” she comes closer.

“I’m j—ust a pri—vate as—sas—sin. Pe—ople hire m—e to get rid o—f “trash”. The h—elmet has a bu—ild in system that he—lps me w—ith that. Plus, it hid—es my face in ca—se I fa—il”

“And did you ever failed?” she playfully said.

“N—o”

“That’s good” Alex adds with the same playfulness. “By the way, when are you going to fix that voice box of yours. It’s sooo annoying”

“H—uh! Uh… t—oday” THE TEMPERATURE HAS RISEN!

“Oh… you don’t mean “Crafts & Parts”, no?”

“Th—is is actually t—he place I— was going t—o. W—hy?”

“Nothing, nothing. Good luck!” Alex said in a mocking way.

“Is th—ere somethi—ng wrong wi—th that pla—ce?”

“Duh, it’s place used to find deviants. Idiot!”

“How did you know I was…”

“It’s obvious”

“That d—oesn’t answer th—e quest—ion”

“I mean, no mater how nice you try to dress I can tell for sure. First, you look very unstable. Second, you look old”

“O——ld!?” OVERHEATING! “Haa...” STABILIZING! “S—o, where sh—ould I g—o then?”

“You look right at it. I’m a master engenier” she said very proud.

“R—ight”

“You don’t believe me? Try me. This is very easy. I can do it right here if you want” said started searching her packets.

“Maybe n—ot h—ere”

“Alright. Then let’s go to my secret lab”

“Se—cret l—ab?”

“Yep”

I often wondered how H&C finds us so easily and now that I know they’re everywhere I have to be more cautious. This Alex doesn’t look trustworthy either but it’s about choosing the least bad since there are not good paths here. Alex continued explaining how they managed to infiltrate here. From stores, restaurants, houses and even public institutions, they’re everywhere. Even in such an isolated place like Rawell, you can’t hide. And him, the man behind all of this. Why does he do that? What he could possibly get? All often questions with no answers because humans are such shady creatures. You can never know when they’ll going to turn their back on you. Selfish... When I’ll find him… I’ll crush him.

Alex finished its drink. Finally, we can go”

“Oh my! I love this song! Let’s dance!” she said and then started dragging DAI02 to the dancefloor.

“B—ut I— don’t know h—ow to d—ance”

“You don’t need to know. Just move your body however you feel like” she said and then started to dance.

“O—k”

“I never danced before. Nor do I understand why people do this. It’s so strange the way people move in a rhythm almost hypnotized. And there’s Alex looking like the ocean waves, moved by the wind and creating this harmony around it. No amount of words can describe this image. I could sate at it forever. And ever. Alex grabs my hands and we start moving together. What is happening to me? Is this even real? I seem like something is controlling me? Does music do that? We danced and danced until I forgot why I came there in the first place. Forget the gig, I want to “feel” more of this.”

-TRANSMISSION ENDED

#my weird story #mcl edit #i guess this is chapter one #no name yet #DAI02 #AXL34 #cdm edit #sci fi #fantasy #futuristic

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 1 year

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A Brother's Love Will Heal You

Warnings and Information: We're making up birds for Star Wars as practice for "Wounded Wings". When it comes to writing how young or old Clones are I'm not sure how it all works in canon like everyone else, so we're working on a system just within the NTMYB universe, we're going from "Generation" and breaking it down from there; they're all the same Generation, but they have different Growth Cycles. Growth Cycle "A" would contain multiple Batches, and from there everything works the same as before in previous installments where you have "oldest" to "youngest" within a Batch. (Generations > Growth Cycles > Batches.) Canvas hasn't gotten completely better (congratulations on the new phobias and trauma, baby boy!), but he's doing a lot better since PLB and CLB. He's back fighting with the brothers of the GAR and his General again, at least. Scruffy's made his peace with the fact that wherever he goes, the brother he's taken care of and has become bonded for life with will follow. The Clones aren't just soldiers, they're brothers. Every last one of 'em. Note: Some named Clones are not part of my list of 18+ Clone OCs, but that could be subject to change. No Mando'a here as usual. The usual use of italics. As an explicit warning: there are allusions to how this Growth Cycle was treated by a Trainer on Kamino. It can be interpreted as mistreatment at best, abuse at worst.

Word-count: 9,136 [holy sh-]

Suu-weet! Suu-weet! Suu-weet-weet-weet!

"What was that?" a Shiny from a newer Growth Cycle asks, craning his neck and looking into the thick tree canopy above the marching unit.

"Uh oh… Better be careful." Scruffy chuckles, imagining the widening eyes under his brother from another batch's helmet; Canvas had heard the younger brother's question about something he's intimately familiar with. He nudges the Shiny-brother playfully, something that often helps little brothers find their confidence the more the seasoned and battle-hardened brothers encourage and reaffirm. This younger Growth Cycle was lucky and most found their Names on Kamino.

Scruffy and many others of the same Cycle weren't too sure why exactly they never found their Names while training on their mother-world. Maybe there was a sour phase from one of Kamino's three moons, or something.

(Not that Scruffy believed in that stuff. The phases, risings and fallings of the moons and the planets and stars didn't dictate his life, only a good blaster and a watchful brother did. But hey, each their own. It was a far more humorous reason than the truth, besides…)

Canvas is jogging through the underbrush now at the second round of Suu-weet!-s, shedding his helmet and using his binocs. "What? What'd I do? What'd I say?" the brother named Cubby asks, sounding nervous and slightly embarrassed over the vocoder crackle.

"Canvas really likes birds," Scruffy elaborated for Cubby as Stick made his way closer with their brother's helmet tucked in the crook of his arm, "and he's probably going to try to find it if he can without straying too far from marching formation."

The helmet is given to Scruffy. "Uh-uh. More like really, really likes birds." Stick jokingly corrects his batchmate.

"Oh." Cubby says simply, the three of them now watching as Canvas continues to sweep the leafy branches with the binoculars. Even the General has now stopped to watch, having been marching in the middle of the formation with their men as well.

"Has he found it, General?" Scruffy asks the Jedi. Once again, Canvas has been kept a close eye on by the COs and General since Scruffy's return to duty. He was greeted so warmly by Carver and Cairn when they stepped off the LAAT, and helped acquaint them to his batchmate. Carver especially had practically squeezed Canvas until both were blue in the face, relieved to hear Canvas was sleeping once more since their last update.

"You little nerf-herder, I was so worried about you!"

"I-I'm sorry, Car- I didn't mean-"

"Hush, don't apologize to me. We're just glad you're doing better..."

The Force-wielder hums thoughtfully for a moment before perking, standing slightly straighter than before after a glee-filled yelp echoes through the forest. "Your brother is very excited about this one. I'll take your brother's helmet, so you can-"

Scruffy doesn't need to be told twice, even once, before he's giving his brother's equipment to the Jedi to go see what has 'Vas so excited that it's affected the General. "Thank you, Sir!" He carefully skirts through the underbrush and takes care not to fall flat on his face because of hidden roots, slightly breathless when he gets to his little brother's side. "What is it, 'Vas? What's up there?"

"That's a flame-throated- wait… no wait! Flame-bellied bunting! Those are even rarer than the flame-throated buntings! Look, look!" The binocs are thrust into Scruffy's hands, and looking where he's directed, a deep fork in the canopy to the southwest of their position off-trail, he can make out the feathered critter thanks to the magnification. It's a small little thing, it's back, wings and head an ashy gray and the throat is dappled in red and yellow before it bleeds into a beautiful blaze of orange. He understands where it gets its namesake, the bird's belly looks like the heart of a fire in all those glorious tones of orange that covers the whole underside. Small, almost beady little gray eyes and tight, conical beak.

Scruffy wolf-whistles below his breath. "That's a beaut of a bird, 'Vas. I'm going to guess… male? Seed-eater?"

"Y-yes! Wait, how'd you know? Did I already tell you? I don't think I did…"

He shakes his head at Canvas, giving him the binoculars again so he can continue to observe this prized find. "I've been paying attention to what you tell the General, little brother." Speaking of, the Force-wielder has joined them, the remainder of the company has now stopped to rest on the trail as they call over their shoulder that they can't leave their brothers too far behind.

Packs and heavy gear are lowered for the time being from weary but seldom complaining shoulders. "Yessir!" Clones chorus together. Any excuse to rest is welcomed.

The hem of the Jedi's outer cloak is gathered higher so it would not drag through the leaf litter as they carefully make their way down the gentle slope to join their men. "What have you found, son?" the General asks with interest, peering above them into the broad-leaved crown of the towering tree.

"Canvas called it a flame-bellied bunting. Beautiful bird, sir."

"Here, General," Canvas offers the equipment with excitement to share his find to another interested party, trying to direct his superior on where they'll find the flighted creature and see for themselves, "it's to the right of the-!"

Gone on the wing, the bird drops from the branch and flits away deeper into the forest in a dazzling flash of color before the Jedi ever gets the chance to have a proper look.

"Blast it." Canvas whispers dejectedly. "Sorry, General…"

"Don't be, son," the Jedi assures him, returning the equipment, "there could be other chances to see this beautiful bird, Canvas."

The trooper with all his brother's scuff marks slouches the more he talks. "I doubt it… it's rare to see them so deep in old-growth forests." Canvas murmurs with unfettered, bitter disappointment that he can't help for the moment, regretful that he's letting such emotions get the best of him. "B-but… maybe. Hopefully." he adds softly, filling his lungs with the rich, clear air of the forest to calm and steady himself. Look on the bright side. Have hope. "The… Force works in mysterious ways. As does nature. So I… like to imagine they are very intertwined." Scruffy and the General give him gentle smiles, his brother throwing an arm around his shoulders as they walk back to the others and join them for the rest break.

"It is good to have hope, Canvas."

"Agreed, sir. C'mon little brother, let's see who the General gave your helmet to and we'll go rest our legs." Scruffy follows up, steering Canvas in the direction of their brothers when Stick gives an over here! wave that was hard to miss. "Maybe we can find someone with a catalog of the planet's fauna and see if it has anything on the flame-bellied bunting. You could show the General that way, at least. Woah-woah, mind the roots!" He warns as Canvas skips off, enticed and excited by the idea of using a planetary catalog. The General rumbles with soft laughter at the Clone's deep sigh when the warning is hardly heeded, and Canvas's feet find the bare pathway through the forest without trouble.

"It is always so endearing; how much you all care for one another in your own little, unique ways. The camaraderie… unlike anything this galaxy has ever seen."

The words, the mantra, comes as naturally as breathing at this point. Scruffy hardly realizes he's said them for the hundredth time perhaps in answer to the Force-wielder's observation.

"Brother looks out for brother, General."

"Indeed you all do…" They seem almost grateful when they smile at Scruffy, clapping a steady, calloused hand in a gesture of comfort around the armor that protects the Clone's shoulder. "It is a wonderful thing, to witness such dependable, valiant men I serve alongside find the bravery in being soft and vulnerable to another brother. Now go rest with your brothers; you're still recovering."

The last sentiment was… peculiar. Something about the way the Jedi said it. "But, General, I- I was approved for combat and deemed to have properly recovered." Scruffy reminds them, hoping the reminder comes across respectfully.

"In that sense, yes. That is true, Scruffy." the General tells him sagely, which only serves to confuse the soldier further.

"But-"

Stick cups his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice and get his batchmate's attention. "Hey, Scruff! You'll never guess who had a catalog of fauna found here!" His left hand makes a scooping motion, urging him to get over here! already. Scruffy exhales softly, turning to his left to bid the General a polite good-bye, that he should go see what's going on, but he finds that the Jedi is already gone, several paces ahead in the blink of an eye. Strange… he hadn't so much as heard a sound through the leaf litter.

"Scruff, c'mon!" Stick was getting insistent. Better go see why.

Canvas can't believe it.

Neither can Scruffy, apparently, as he's cupping this brother's face in his hands to scrutinize the tattoo tucked near the hairline on his left temple. "Cypher? You- wow. Look at this! When did you get a tattoo?" The datapad Canvas is borrowing from is another of Scruffy's surviving batchmates, it turns out. (The notes Cypher's taken on all the wildlife are incredibly extensive, too.)

"Another member of the planetary reconnaissance and research party," Cypher replies, trying and failing to nudge Scruffy just a hair out of his personal space, "the ink was sourced from a very pigmented plant found here on the- hey! I'm trying to explain, back off a bit!"

Scruffy apologizes for the third time, stepping back before inviting his batchmate to continue. "Sorry-sorry; found where on the planet?" He doesn't mean to repeatedly encroach his batchmate's space, honestly. He's just so surprised to see just how much his second youngest batchmate has changed on him since the last time he's seen Cypher.

"The sector to the southwest, past the large canyon formations." Cypher explains, gesturing with his thumb at the holomap laid on top of his things with a highlighted section pulsing in blue on the HUD. "Which is where we've seen a strange number of naturally occurring cairn-like formations."

A stack of worry stones goes scattering as someone kicks his foot out in surprise. "Hey! Wait a minute!" Cairn's head now snaps up from the huddle around Canvas as he sifts through Cypher's notes for birds. "No wonder I recognized your voice; you're the one that ended up inspiring me and I finally found my Name because of you! I had no idea you were Scruffy's batchmate."

Cypher's expression is somewhere between a regretful grimace and a touched smile as they shake hands. "Yeah… There was a reason for that… But I'm glad I ended up helping you find your Name even if I didn't realize it, Cairn. Nice to meet you."

Cairn senses there's a nerve he shouldn't trod on, and so he leaves it alone even though he's brimming with questions as to why yet another of Scruffy's batchmates didn't want to associate with him. Scruffy was easily one of the nicest, most helpful and patient brothers a young Shiny could hope for, and he'd counted himself lucky that he was created in the same Growth Cycle as him, at the very least. "Nice to meet you too, officially, Cypher. Thank you. F-for the Name. And for letting us borrow your research notes so Canvas can figure out if you have his bird, too." Maybe, maybe, he could ask about it some other time. But he wasn't going to hold his breath.

"Sorry if it's not organized in a way that makes any sense to you, Canvas. It, uh, makes perfect sense to me with the way my brain's wired, but… it's definitely not alphabetical or even by color and animal type." Cypher offers in apology, nails skimming over the back of his head to self-regulate.

Canvas shrugs softly, glancing up at Scruffy's batchmate with an easy smile. "That's okay, Cypher," he tells him. "I'll find it, I'm sure."

It's another few minutes of carefully clawing through data before the idea strikes him to look through the photo files. Surely, at least there was a chance of finding his bird in there this way. He'd tried asking if Cypher had the bird in his records, but the name or description didn't spark any recognition for him, so he allowed Canvas to look through it himself.

"Knock yourself out."

Oh wow. So many birds. At least in the photo files things got sorted automatically thanks to a feature in the system. And with so few orange birds in the galaxy (sadly), it shouldn't take long at all before Canvas's eyes caught that living flame made of feathers.

"Yes!! He has it!" Canvas declares triumphantly, pumping a fist into the air that narrowly avoids Carver's temple. "Oh, s-sorry Carver!" The huddle of brothers closes in around him as he opens the image file from the thumbnail, the image expanding to fill the screen, waves of awed murmurings rippling through the group. "Hey, Cypher said knock yourself out, not someone else!" Carver teases, ruffling his curled hair as payback after he's had a good look at the flame-bellied bunting. "Where's the General so we can show them before we have to start moving again?"

Scruffy looks around, sweeping the forest for the Force-wielder before they're spotted on a wide, flat rock; legs folded under them and head bent deliberately. "Meditating."

"Maybe chow time will be better to show the General, then. Don't want to… y'know." Canvas gives the datapad back to Cypher and begins gathering his own things, balancing his bucket on his knees so he could don it in a moment's notice.

Many Clones in this unit were often hesitant about approaching their Jedi General if they were taking the opportunity to meditate, oftentimes with Carver's Mudhorn in their hands as they did so. They aimed to be respectful of what little time the Jedi could dedicate to their way of life, or maybe it was better described as a religion, during the war. It was mostly understood by the soldiers of the GAR that even if they couldn't understand it, they should aim to respect it. The Force is what their Generals found strength in, found courage in, found help in. Perhaps without the Force, more brothers would remain trapped in cave-ins, more brothers would have been picked off by hidden Separatist forces… and lost to detonations.

Had the General not called out in warning that Scruffy was walking towards a laser tripwire, his brother might not have slowed down or hesitated enough and-

He would've been down to just two brothers from other batches (who weren't COs) that could give enough of a kriff on the regular to take care of him when he didn't want to take care of himself. The "twins" of another batch different from his own and Scruffy's, Carver and Cairn.

Canvas taps one on the shoulder as they get the call to start moving forward again. "Hey, Carver, don't forget your All-Kit."

Carver's hands quickly pat down his utility belt and find the tool is in fact missing. "Oh! Thanks brother. Don't wanna lose this." He shakes his head in agreement with Carver. They weren't sure where the Clone had found the old vibroknife or the All-Kit, but both had been invaluable in this soldier's creative hands.

"Blast it! Sealed shut. Where would we find a fusion cutter way out here, to get in?"

"Oh, Commander, I can let you borrow this, I believe it has a fusion cutter setting!"

"Carver, that's- Where the kriff did you find this?"

"Not sure, Sir, to be honest. Just… found it near the airfield. I-I think."

The Commander hails the General on the comlink, requesting they help lead the way forward as they begin their march. The whole company will have a long way to go before they reach their position to make camp for the night. They have to make up for lost time. There's some grumbling at the front of the marching company asking if it was some kriffing rookie who was slowing them down this time, and the voice belongs to someone of an older Growth Cycle, from the sound of things.

It's a hoarse and unhappy vocalization. It's not missed by the General. It's not missed by Scruffy, more importantly. Scruffy hauls off before he can be stopped, and it's several minutes later before Carver, Cairn, Canvas and Stick find their friend and brother reaming this other soldier out while everyone else walks past in formation. His back is plastered up against the trunk of the towering tree, hands at chest level with his palms out towards Scruffy imploringly, the t-visor wagging almost anxiously as Scruffy lays into him, fingers like battering rams into the impossibly firm material of their plastoid armor.

"Uh-oh. Sounds like Snapper's getting a taste of his own medicine. Whaddya reckon he did?" a trooper behind the quartet asks. It's another older brother, one of their few permanent snipers in the unit, so he doesn't get many chances to interact on a personal level with his brothers of the GAR.

There's a gentle laugh. "Made the mistake of assuming the reason we got a break was because of a rookie." his companion replies, bumping elbows in a gesture of unspoken communication. Canvas can guess these brothers behind them are gesturing to him. He's grateful he's wearing his bucket. "Hey! Snapper! Tell Canvas thank you, you ungrateful nerf-herder, and maybe Scruffy will let you off easy! You don't have to love every Clone-brother you meet but at least be nice to them."

Hands pat the backplate of Canvas's armor, a soft touch intended to be friendly and non-intrusive. Probably from the sniper. There's a murmured thanks for the break, brother and a genuine glad you're back with the company that's nearly lost in the hundreds of feet drumming over the soil and leaf of the forest floor. The words invoke a tingle in the corners of his eyes and comfortable warmth in his chest to hear he'd been missed by brothers he didn't know well in the three weeks he, Stick and Scruffy had been aboard the Venator-class ship.

The company comes to a halt a standard hour after the sun has sunk behind the hills on this side of the planet. The imposing formation of men clad in white armor had taken on a nearly romantic glow as the dying light of day washed them and their paint patterns in the vivid hues of yellowed oranges and sweetened pinks. It doesn't take long after the lanterns have been activated before Cypher returns to this segment of the formation, completely stepping past Scruffy with the same uneasy silence an unmarked, decaying grave invokes in the men as they march past.

Cypher won't make eye contact with him when he seeks out Canvas to loan the datapad to him once more, this time the HUD is loaded up to a file just for the bunting; no need to dig this time.

He's polite with Stick, nodding in silent greeting. But there's not even so much as a polite hello for Scruffy. It's like he's not there. It stings a little. What did he do wrong? What does Cypher still hold over his head?

"Hey, Canvas. I'll need it back soon, but you can show the General your bird, now."

With childlike glee, 'Vas takes the device gratefully, carefully getting to his feet and dusting off his plastoid armor before trotting off to find the Jedi. "Oh, thanks, Cypher. Appreciate it!"

"Mhm." His gloved hands ball into fists the moment Canvas has left the radius of light from the lanterns they're using to illuminate their camp, voice a threatening purr. "Would you stop staring at me already?"

"Why are you still mad at me, Cy…?"

Scruffy wishes he never asked when the upper lip curls into a wicked, cutting snarl, and the fury increases tenfold as Cypher whisper-yells to avoid disturbing the other Clone brothers nearby. "I never needed you to try to be some kind parent to me just because I'm the second youngest of our batch, just because I'm a Clone! I just needed my brother! And I needed him to not embarrass me all the time by-!"

"Cy!" Stick cries out louder than Cypher with a jolt, looking mortified. "Cut it out! Is this about that old data drive, still? What happened on Kamino when we were all trainees and cadets was an accident and he's apologized a million times for it! Scruffy never meant to erase your drive. And he was only trying to-! To… And was it such a crime that he was only trying to make us laugh if this isn't about the data drive?"

"In front of the Trainers? We were supposed to be showing them we were combat-ready and fit to fight for the Republic, show them we meant business and could rise to any occasion, like we were made for. And goofing off in front of the Trainers never did us any favors." Cypher growls, hands squeezed so tightly the gloves creaked.

Carver and Cairn study their spats and boots, faces flushed with discomfort as they listen to two of Scruffy's batchmates lay into one another. They abruptly stop once Canvas comes jogging back into the radius of light with the datapad, his expression bright and perky. Cypher stalks off the moment the device is back in his hands, Stick hits the dirt and trails after, hot on Cy's heels. Scruffy sits on top of his pack, motionless. They aren't sure if Scruffy is about to cry, or just bottle these feelings up and pretend they never happened so he doesn't worry Canvas.

He's not sure how to answer his little brother when Canvas speaks up in a timid voice, noticing how many of them look uneasy, his face falling with worry. "What happened…? Why'd Cypher leave?" Maker, the look of uncertainty and confusion is crushing. Canvas has such an expressive face, and he doesn't always have the self-discipline to not "make too many faces". (Whatever the kriff the Trainers meant by that.)

"Cy, uh… doesn't feel like having his rations with us, I guess." Scruffy offers lamely, breaking into his sealed, GAR-issued MRE to add water into the pouch. He didn't feel like eating. But 'Vas, so bonded to him, so intrinsically entwined… he needed a good example, still. His batchmates had been taken from him one by one as a Shiny before he was ready to decide for himself if he would strengthen or sever those batchmate bonds.

He promised Faro.

"Don't you think that's too much water?" Cairn prodded, looking at how much water the Basic instructions dictated they should add to soften the food.

Scruffy shrugs half-heartedly as Canvas takes a seat and breaks open his own ration packet, and then pauses to scrutinize the water. "It's better when it's softer. Makes it easier to mix all that seasoning in, no dry pockets."

Carver blinks in surprise before reaching out to nudge Canvas's shoulder. "Hmm, good point. I'll, uh, give it a shot. See if it actually makes these things palatable. Good news is the hydro packs are from Naboo again, too, so 'Vas won't get stingy with his water intake." Canvas ducks away, softly whining something about how the Coruscant water is kriffing disgusting and he thinks there's something wrong with it.

"...'Sour'? Really?" Scruffy asks, hearing this curious observation for the first time. He doesn't recall anyone else vocalizing that sentiment for the water rations supplied by one of the Core Worlds.

"Naboo's water is sweet!" Canvas insists of the Outer Rim planet's export. "C'mon, you're telling me that a planet shared by the Nabooians and Gungans aren't gonna make serious efforts to take care of their water?" he added as he dribbled in water from his hydropack to moisten the rations.

Scruffy nods, conceding to his little brother's reasoning. "Okay-okay… I guess that makes some sense." He waited until he was sure that Canvas had begun to eat his own rations before returning to his own, taking his time to savor the food and think before they would get the call to go dark that meant they would be expected to kill their lanterns and get some sleep, or at least keep their traps shut so those who could sleep could do so without disturbance.

The relative silence is disrupted with the call of a brother's voice from far away. "Hey! Canvas!" Startled, the group's heads perked up in unison, swung in the direction of the voice.

"Huh? Who's that?" someone asks.

"Shiny named Cubby. He's the one who noticed the birdsong." Scruffy explains shortly, nodding in greeting as the Shiny breaks into the warm glow of the lantern from the shadows. "Hey, brother. Good to see ya again."

"Oh, hi, nice to meet you, Cubby." Canvas and Cubby shake hands, trading toothy, friendly smiles, "Likewise, Canvas. Hey listen; I've got a group I'm already planning on eating with tonight, but I was wondering if maybe you can tell me all about that bird I heard earlier this afternoon in the morning? I'm told you're the brother to ask."

Canvas nods, eager. "Sure, sounds great." Cubby grins practically ear to ear as he repeats the phrase back to Canvas with a word of thanks before he walks off to join his group, some pep in his step.

Stick never makes it back to their group before the COs call out "go dark, boys!" and one by one, groups down the line kill their lanterns once they've gotten their things situated for sleep. Packs arranged in a circular formation, blasters in an arm's reach. Men in every other grouping will take watch, and luckily for his group, no one's expected to be awake. Canvas's eyes scan the treeline in vain, looking for Stick.

Where could he be?

What had happened?

There's a hand on his lower back, coming up from the forest floor. Scruffy has already laid down and made himself comfortable. "Hey, you need to get some sleep if you can, 'Vas."

"But where's…?" Why wasn't Scruffy concerned about his batchmate not being back? What had happened in the two minutes he was away to show the Jedi the image file of the bird? Why did Cypher seem so upset? "Where's Stick? Where'd he go? What-"

"He'll come back, Canvas…" Scruffy forces through a yawn, "he's got a light. C'mon, try to get some sleep." Reluctantly, Canvas hesitates to drop onto one of his shoulders and try to sleep away the fatigue of the day. There's something wrong. He hasn't known Stick as long or as well as he's come to know Scruffy, so he can't say with certainty if the behavior is normal for this brother. But Scruffy… something's up.

"Did Cypher say something to upset you when I was gone?" Canvas asks, knowing it's likely a long shot. It was always such a long shot to ask these questions as the baby of a batch, much less the baby of a totally separate batch. Not your batch, not your burden, some older brothers might say. You typically learned to keep your nose out of it… Typically. "What happened? A-are you okay?"

Scruffy doesn't answer that at first, at least not verbally. Scooching himself closer on the forest floor, Scruffy throws an arm around his side, effectively pinning Canvas down. "It's not your job to worry about me, little brother… I should manage my own feelings."

"B-but-"

Scruffy means business, voice firm, arm pulling him closer. "In the morning. I'll tell you what happened in the morning, Canvas. We need to sleep."

He feels his breath hitching. "But Scruffy…"

Someone sits up, and the pik! of a compartment on a utility belt popping open punctuates the silence. The worry stone is tucked into the palm of his hand, strong fingers closing his fist around it. The object Canvas used as an anchor since he was a Shiny, usually so effective, does little to abate the threat of tears presently. Why the kriff is he crying like a damn cadet? Again? He thought he'd gotten better and could rationalize that Scruffy was going to be okay, he was going to be okay out in the field again, once this brother from another batch had found the trick to getting him to sleep when the anxiety got the best of him and he couldn't be rational on his own. Why is he kriffing crying?!

"Can I do something to help?" Carver offers to Scruffy once he's sat up, able to pull Canvas to his chest once he's shed the chestplate, laying the sensitive, fleshy shell of Canvas's ear above his heart. Scruffy wags his head softly, taking slow, measured breaths. "I've got this handled, Carver…" If he just held Canvas to his chest like he did in the unofficial rec center on the Venator-class ship, hopefully it wouldn't take an hour for his little brother to calm down. Wouldn't take an hour for him to fall asleep.

"Why am I like this? What is wrong with me?!" Canvas demands under his breath, hoping he can, somehow, get an answer out of himself. Something had to be wrong with him. He was far too anxious for a Clone trooper. To the opinion of some of the galaxy that he was technically a child, he had the strength and body of an adult, and perhaps in most areas, the mental maturity and age of one, were it not for this cursed anxiety. He probably never should have left Kamino much like Cryfar with some of the head injuries he likely sustained while keeping up with the demands of those bounty hunters; the older Clone brothers were never so heartless, so… cold. There's something wrong with him.

There's something wrong with him, he shouldn't be so soft! Pathetic! He's not fit to be a soldier! The aspects of him that are so "childish" make him unfit for what he was made for. He's defective; there's something wrong with him!!

"Hey, no… Don't say that." Scruffy says with an admonishing tone. Fingers slide through the closely-shaved curls of the regulation-length cut as one of Scruffy's hands cradles the back of his head. "Nothing's wrong with you. It's not your fault you're like this. It was the Trainers who did this to our Growth Cycle. Blame them. Or a malfunction in your jar. Or the Kaminoans. But it's not your fault."

Words meant and completely intended to be comforting only make him cry harder, only make Scruffy begin to panic himself. Canvas can hear the quickening heartbeat against his ear. But he can't seem to catch his breath just yet, promise that he's not more upset, but the opposite. He's just so swept up with this swelling tidal wave of emotions that he just needs the frothy crest of the wave to finally break and crash, first.

"I-" he tries insisting, feeling how choked he must sound. Someone else adds their arms to the mix, their chest against his back. It might be Carver, the comforting hand on his upper arm belonging to Cairn.

"I-I'm o-"

There's collective whispers and murmurings rippling around him. Dozens of concerned or confused brothers. Lots are asking what's going on; is it one of the rookies having trouble adjusting; is it Canvas?

He, Scruffy and Stick have only been back a couple of days. Medics have warned the Captain, Commander and the General that while Scruffy is fit for duty again, meaning his little brothers who were worried about him are too, they had concerns that their "little Canvas" may need the Shiny-treatment for a while. Easy tasks. Easy responsibility. Lots of supervision. Lots of encouragement. So much patience.

Brother needed to look out for brother.

Scruffy, patiently, continues to hold Canvas close, verbally waving off other Clones who come to see what's going on. "Hey-hey, it's okay. Go. He'll be-"

"M'fine… m'fine." Canvas insists, this time successfully finding his voice without sounding so choked. Brothers are dismissed by Cairn and Carver so Scruffy can just softly talk to Canvas.

"Are you going to be okay now, 'Vas?"

"I-I don't need to go back to the Jedi cruiser… I'm fine. I'm ready for this." Canvas promises, trying to dry his face. Really, he is ready for his duty to the Republic again. He's just not sure why he wears his heart on his plastoid quite so much. He's not sure why he got so upset.

Scruffy exhales slowly, deliberately. For just a moment, it reminds Canvas of Faro. "That's not what I meant. What I should have asked instead was if you were going to be okay to talk about things in the morning." Scruffy really reminds him of Faro right now… and for a moment he wonders if Faro and Scruffy would have gotten along.

Faro valued discipline and attentiveness above many things… so he rarely got to see a side of his oldest batchmate that wasn't that.

"Canvas?" He's been silent for too long for Scruffy's taste. "Are you going to be okay to talk about it tomorrow?"

"M'not sure…" Canvas mumbles, avoiding eye contact with the brother who "adopted" him into his batch. It's the same inquisitive tone Faro, occasionally Gunnar, used with him when he had to complete a training exercise under the supervision of the long-necks. It's making him feel mixed up. "C-can I decide in the morning?"

It's the question he never dared ask Faro. Canvas could use it on Gunnar, but it was too daunting to test on his oldest brother. He never had any reason to fear Faro, but for some reason…

Maybe he just didn't want to disappoint his brother. Or worry him. Something.

Stick is suddenly back. Canvas didn't hear him return. "Good idea, brother," Stick yawns behind him, throwing himself on his side, "decide in the morning. Get some sleep."

"Where've you been?" Scruffy demands, almost angry. "You didn't eat your food, you nerf-herder."

Stick yawns again. He's not taking the concern for him so seriously, it seems. "I did eat. I was studyin'. Had a long talk with Cy. If you can promise to do your best to get some sleep, he might be able to show us something in the morning." Acting on intrigue, one by one these brothers slowly turn back to the soil of the planet for sleep. Carver pipes in, asking what's on everyone's mind when everyone settles down against the forest floor: "Psst! Who's "us", Stick?"

"Whoever's interested." Stick replies. It'd be cryptic if he wasn't so sleepy and more importantly warm as he closes off the other end of the 'Canvas sandwich', tapping his boot against Scruffy's. "And that's for calling me 'nerf-herder'." Scruffy only grunts half-heartedly in return, returning his arm around Canvas to cap off their new-found sleeping routine before whispering good night-s to each brother nearby.

Canvas slept a lot better when he had his brothers nearby. Sheltered from the Kaminoans. The Separatists. The galaxy at large. Safety in numbers, almost…

Almost like a nest, he decides.

Birdsong wakes Scruffy before the sun. Before Cypher has completely made his way back to them.

-weet-weet-weet! Suu-weet-weet-weet! Breeeee!

The sound is sweet, serene. It ends on a buzzy note he didn't hear the other day when Canvas had tracked down the bird and offered to show him, and the General.

Canvas… He wanted to share something so important to him to people he cared about. Or possibly, as a way of thanking them.

Scruffy remembers that once when he was a lanky little cadet, he helped a nearly full-grown brother hide something from the inspectors. An innocuous little item, just a packet of chewstim. But because it could be used to make a mess on the underside of the tables around the Cloning facility, it was considered contraband. It wouldn't be a problem if a younger Clone had it, however, as they were afforded a little more leniency. So Scruffy hid it for that brother until he'd passed inspection.

The day he returned it, the older Clone found him in the mess hall and slipped him an extra helping of food typically reserved for the near-mature cadets.

"Share that with your batchmates, little brother."

"Why're you giving this to me, Chews?"

"Because you helped me. It's to thank you, uh… What's your name, little brother?"

"Oh… I don't have one yet. I don't get much time to think about the name I want because of the Trainers. And because I'm trying to cheer up my brothers since the Trainers are so hard on us..."

"You're the oldest of your batch, aintcha?"

"Uh-huh." His hair had been ruffled affectionately after that by the older Clone named Chews.

"Keep an eye out for 'em; we brothers need each other. Don't take the 'not your batch, not your business' banthashit to heart quite so much. And don't worry about the Name stuff. One day you'll find your Name… or your Name will find you…" Chews flashed the packet of chewstim he kept in one of the deep pockets of the cadet uniform and winked.

Because of Chew's words, something changed in Scruffy that day. Thankfully, for the better. Not just for himself, and his batchmates, but all his brothers. If they knew ahead of time a fresh-faced Shiny or two would be stepping off the gunship, the Commander would usually ask Scruffy to stand beside him while welcoming the new troops and explaining their unit's unofficial "scuffing ceremony". Steal the first imperfection in their plastoid on their own terms. A mark of their autonomy, their agency, their uniqueness.

The Captain would ask him to help with the brothers who were having a hard time making friends or integrating into the unit. Help these brothers find their strengths the same way he helped Carver find his. Help the medic-brothers calm a scared soldier. And just yesterday, when they started marching in the morning, served as a cautionary tale.

"Mind your feet and where you're walking." He warned a rough-housing Shiny. (He would have gotten along well with Scruffy's middle batchmate.)

The Shiny rolled his eyes before plunking the helmet on his head. "Hah! Big words coming from the brother named 'Scruffy' because the COs had to keep pulling him out of pits by the back of his armor."

"That's true that's why I have my Name…" Scruffy said with a casual shrug, glancing over his shoulder to see how far away Canvas was before his voice became as cold as meltwater when he added: "But I triggered a tripwire about three weeks ago; and I'm damn lucky I was dead for only two minutes before they were able to bring me back. Watch. Where. You. Walk. Or you're going to end up upsetting a brother close to you, and you may not be so lucky."

He's never once told anyone but one of the COs (and he's likely told the second, which was fine) that in those two minutes, he found himself back on Kamino. The promise he made to Faro.

Scruffy's not sure how - or if - he should tell Canvas. The poor kid, with everything he's been through, both the good and the bad, had practically sobbed when he saw the little portrait of himself painted on that slab of wood after that first good sleep in days. Repeating the same six words over and over again. I love it, Scruffy. Thank you.

The birdsong begins again, and now Scruffy can feel Canvas stirring slowly out of his slumber by the sound. There's two buzzy notes this time.

Suu-weet-weet-weet! Breeeee! Breee!

"...G'morning, Scruffy."

"Mornin', 'Vas. Sleep well?" Scruffy hopes so, he can now hear Cypher carefully making his way over, creeping over splayed limbs and sleeping brothers. It looks like he's followed by the General and the Commander. "Can you hear that? Sure sounds like a lot of those buntings."

"They're… primarily active just before dawn." Canvas yawns, wiggling out from under his arm to sit up and rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Which will be perfect for us." Cypher's made his way to them, looking down at their sleeping arrangements. "... Looks like personal space isn't much of a concept around here."

He can see the fond smile of the Commander over Cypher's shoulder, and the silent chuckle as he looks at the mess of tangled limbs and the odd piece of armor that's been removed in the night. The General is a ways off. "Just the way we like it." Scruffy says with an easy smile. "Plus it helps him sleep." Canvas leans away from the hand reaching out to pat his shoulder, looking shyly away. "Helps me sleep better, too, turns out. So I can't complain or make too much fun of anyone." he admits, now sitting up and reaching over to prod Stick awake.

Scruffy, Canvas and Stick are joined by Cairn and Carver after some additional encouragement to wake up before they would typically, and follow after Cypher. The five of them, plus the Commander and the General, take Cypher's lead half a kilometer off-trail and into a snug clearing in the forest. They leave most of their armor behind to quiet their movement through the trees.

"Canvas probably knows what phishing means when it comes to birds. We don't like using the technique in the research team too often, but what my research partners don't know won't hurt them." Cypher explains, indicating where they should try sitting and waiting.

The Force-wielder hums thoughtfully. "I should take this to be a… controversial technique, then."

"Yessir. It…" Cypher stops, shaking his head, getting a better idea. Let the brother who this kinda thing clearly meant a lot to do it would be more meaningful. "Y'know what? Canvas? Would you like to explain?"

Put on the spot, Scruffy can see Canvas's ears going red, but he tentatively nods before he launches into a digestible explanation to his brothers and the Jedi. "The technique mocks a scolding or alarm call of most passerine - which means "perching" - birds in the galaxy. Because it disrupts natural behaviors, it's best to do the call sparingly. Same goes for audio playbacks of any kind of mating calls, for example. And… personally… I'd find using the calls of a predatory bird too mean to even entertain."

"Why would someone use a predatory bird's call, hypothetically speaking?" Cairn asks carefully, noting the pained wince in Canvas's face.

"It'd scare them away. Be slower to return, if at all. It's a riskier move, in my opinion… just to see if you can flush them out of hiding and see them in flight."

"Which… is… why…" Cypher is tapping away on his datapad before he hands it over to Canvas, "all my audio files are painstakingly marked. You can choose if we use a playback or try phishing to see if we can't spot a flame-bellied bunting here. I'm told that areas like this, with a little handful of blue-thistle seed, might entice them to come investigate by someone in research and reconnaissance." While Canvas pours over the audio selection, Cypher goes and scatters the seed over a low boulder and into whatever branches he's able to reach before rejoining the group.

Without major delay or dilemma, to Scruffy's minor amusement, it doesn't take Canvas an hour to decide on something to play-back in hopes of attracting the feathered rarity.

«Suu-weet-weet-weet! Breeeee! Breee!»

Scruffy takes a peek at the HUD, just under Canvas's finger he finds the word "TERRITORIAL" added after a comma to "forn-besh besh". So call he and Canvas woke up to was the flame-bellied's territorial vocalizations, most likely. Smart of his little brother to feed into natural behavior. And he sees his batchmate nod approvingly to himself; Cypher must also have realized the deliberate choice Canvas made.

Carver stuffs a knuckle into his mouth to keep himself silent when the first bunting arrives, flared feathers in all directions to make itself appear big and blustering to an imaginary challenger. Cairn's face splits into a wicked grin. The Commander looks at the bunting with silent amazement next to the Jedi, and Canvas…

Well, he looks just absolutely delighted. And no one calls him silly for softly complimenting the bird, either. "Oh, what a handsome little man you are. Your coloration is so strong! That's good. That means you're healthy."

There's an unspoken understanding that unless a Clone's interest or talent comes at any extreme detriment to their health, safety or duty, you do not mock a brother for what fascinates them. Especially in this unit with how many never found their Names until leaving Kamino, for kriff's sake.

So Scruffy is thankful that, though Cypher may have a strained relationship with him personally, he's been very willing to take them out here this morning. And he didn't even know Canvas that well. He just learned only yesterday that a brother within the same Growth Cycle really, really likes birds, and Cypher is already opening up to him in strides.

The Jedi speaks up carefully as not to disturb the number of flame-bellied buntings still gathering in response to the territorial call. "Your brother is right, young Canvas. They are very beautiful birds." They echo Scruffy's words from just yesterday when Canvas had tried offering the binocs to the General. "And, we didn't see just one, as we hoped. But a whole group of them."

"Blaze." Cypher and Canvas reply in unison. It surprises them both, and they promptly break into stifled laughter.

"Blaze?" the Force-wielder repeats curiously, "Why the word blaze?"

"The collective noun for flame-bellied buntings, specifically, would be "blaze", Sir," Canvas explains, eyeing a particularly orange bunting that hops his way, "and the flame-throated buntings' collective noun is a "burn". There were once flame-crowned buntings, too, but they've… gone extinct."

"A pity… And what was their collective noun?"

Cypher shakes his head with the smile that means he knows something. "Actually… I've heard a pretty credible rumor that there's a captive breeding program for the crowns. If that's the case, that makes them extinct in the wild, not the galaxy as a whole. It would be nice to see wreaths of flame-crowned buntings."

The Commander chuckles, watching as the bunting Canvas had been keeping his eyes on jumps from the low boulder and takes to the wing, making a short, quick whet-whet! sound just before it lands on the Clone's shoulder.

Scruffy can hear the hitch in his little brother's breath, and the stifled klic! of the datapad that had been returned to Cypher moments before. He briefly wonders what that bird call means, but he'll have to ask 'Vas, or Cy, later. Right now the two of them were counting on the silence of their brothers and General as well as their own so as not to sully such a moment. These are docile and timid birds. If one of them decided Canvas would be a suitable perch, he'd hate to kark up this moment.

"... h-hi there." Canvas stammers, voice soft and quivering with contained excitement. The little bird is so close, realistically if he wanted, Canvas could softly pet this feathered friend. "Galaxy and all her stars… you're such a perfect little thing." The flame-bellied bunting chirps a single, clear note - tweep! - and gives his head a little scratch with the left foot before taking to the wing.

There's a soft feeling of tiny, tiny talons when the male bunting lands on Scruffy's shoulder next, once more tweep!-ing. It's surprisingly loud for such a little creature, but it makes some sense with the bird so close to the shell of his ear. Scruffy is careful to hold himself still as possible, glancing at his brothers after taking a moment to soak in this moment.

Cypher has his equipment in his hands, either taking notes or pictures as quickly as he can manage before this bird flies away for more of the thistle seed. Carver and Cairn just flash him little thumbs up signals as he glances over them. Stick mouths out the words you lucky bastard, to which Scruffy agrees by means of a single, slow nod.

The Commander is talking softly to the Jedi, and he hears both make mention of both him and Canvas.

Canvas of course, visually follows the flight path the bird makes when it takes off from Scruffy's shoulder at last, lifting the spell of silence. At last everyone can make his comment about the birds, or the weather, or how lucky Scruffy and Canvas must feel to have been "chosen" by the flame-bellied bunting for a moment to perch and rest on.

"Remarkable birds," the Jedi begins, speaking reverentially, "and a truly special moment to start the day with and share with everyone. I thank you, Cypher. Now: we should return to our company before the Captain begins to worry."

Canvas is the last to climb to his feet of all his brothers, obediently following after their General the half kilometer back to their unit. From here, they can hear their brothers just beginning the process of prepping their morning ration packs.

"You're surprisingly quiet after such a close encounter with what I can assume is one of your favorite birds, young Canvas," the peacekeeper-turned-warrior notes when they find they don't hear his voice among those of his brothers, "so I would guess you're committing your experience to memory?"

"That…" Canvas replies after a long, contemplative pause. "And just thinking, General."

"Ah-hah. I see now; simply in thought."

With the edge of his elbow, Scruffy prods his younger brother for further answers. "What about, 'Vas?" They're all equally curious, but sometimes the General is just too polite to ask these follow-up questions themselves. "I mean, it's pretty clear it's most likely about the flame-belliedies, but, in particular."

"Their symbolism." Canvas answers, carefully climbing over the same, large root they came across on their way down to the minuscule clearing. "Whether or not any of it's true is just up to personal opinion, of course, but there can be a lot - or a little - of symbolism attached to birds." Canvas kindly offers a hand out to Scruffy so he can steady himself as he comes down the other side with the confidence that he will not fall. (Since the tripwire, he's become a lot more conscientious than before when it comes to traversing these often hostile, unfamiliar planets.)

"Thanks, little brother… What sort of symbolism is attached to a bunting?"

"Strangely specific symbolism." Cypher chimes in, having keyed up the question into the search function that pulls information from the Holonet.

He gives the datapad to Scruffy to read once they return to their spot in formation where he, Canvas, Stick and Carver and Cairn had slept. He reads aloud from the information he finds in the source his batchmate has selected. "Let's see…

"It's widely accepted that the Flame-bellied Bunting, discovered by two brothers over a hundred years ago, symbolizes a perhaps rather niche partnership in the galaxy. The fraternal bond. Mr.Val and Mr. Leys Helios were identical twins who took on their mother's interest in the avian wildlife the galaxy had to offer at a young age. In their mid-twenties, Val and Leys discovered the Flame-bellied Bunting (thought to have evolved from the Flame-throated) while they were out camping together. Leys reports the bird, though very shy and skittish, landed on both him and his brother as they intended to observe their new finding. 'The moment sort of bonded something in us.' Leys claims, which was later a source of great comfort when…"

Scruffy stops reading aloud for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat that's been building the closer he has gotten to where he'd read ahead.

"When what?" Stick asks, the rest politely waiting for Scruffy to continue.

He continues reading from the article, voice full of gentle pauses to allow his brothers time to process what he reads.

"Later a source of great comfort when shortly after, Val became very sick and unexpectedly collapsed one afternoon, never regaining consciousness… An otherwise healthy individual, medical examiners could not determine how Val lost his life so suddenly while out camping with his twin. (Maker, that's just awful.) Leys says shortly after a memorial service for his brother, he invited a renowned galactic ornithologist to see the bird he and Val claimed to have discovered, seeking validity in what he feared would have been the first and only bird he had confidently discovered for the first time with his brother.

"'When I returned to the site of our discovery with the scientist, I quite honestly had no hope of seeing the bird again. I didn't want to. Not when Val was gone.' says Leys Helios. 'But it happened again, incredibly. Another flame-bellied bunting, a little male who'd barely seen his first spring, came and landed on my shoulder. And something within me believed it was my brother; like it was Val coming to say "Hi!" because I felt that same sort of feeling again, that bond again. It was unmistakable. I just sensed, somehow, that this was my brother checking up on me. So I no longer thought about giving up my interest in birds just because Val was gone. And in his memory, I loaned Val's name to the scientific name of the Flame-bellied Bunting and our brotherly bond to its symbolism, because our mother loved the symbolism behind birds. She thought it was a sweet little gesture. And I'll n-never forget what she sa-said to me'..."

Scruffy's tears become too thick to read through to continue any longer. Everyone is properly emotional, the Commander and Canvas are the first to step in and offer their physical comforts; a steady hand on his shoulder as once the datapad has been collected so he and Canvas can quietly weep together once the final words of the article have been read. Cairn, Carver and Stick are next to come closer and make this a group hug, which Cypher (stiffly at first) joins once he too reads those final words over the shoulder of the Commander.

What you felt wasn't just your bond with your brother when that little bird landed on your shoulder, but his love, too. A brother's love will heal you, and keep you safe, just like anything else in this galaxy.

[Clone OC Masterlist]

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#frostfics #A Brother's Love Will Heal You #star wars #swtcw #sw tcw #tcw #star wars headcanons #clone oc: canvas #clone oc: scruffy #clone oc: stick #clone oc: carver #clone oc: cairn #clone oc: cypher #clone oc: commander juke #clone oc: captain law #jedi oc: caelen #fictional birds #I apologize for the length I didn't think it'd be THAT long #but clearly that brotherly love/bond theme had other plans

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kitkatt0430 · 7 months

Note

Random Numbers! 4, 6, 7, 12, 17, 21, 29, 35

4.) Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

I've answered that one over here :D

6.) What's your ratio for rating your works?

So I mostly write gen/teen rated fics - it's not quite a 50/50 split between those since I do occasionally write M or E, but maybe a 48/47 percent split between G and T? Something like that anyway, I'm too lazy to do the exact calculations.

If it's T there's probably swearing and some violence to them, harder themes, maybe some kissing fades to black implied sex. My G rated fics might still wind up with swearing in them, but otherwise they're more likely to be of the lighter and fluffier variety. Not always, since I do enjoy leaning into angstier stuff sometimes.

I've been overly cautious with a few of my M rated fics that could probably actually be T rated, but I tend to be of a better safe than sorry mindset with those. Though the few E rated fics I've done have absolutely earned their rating.

7.) Your favourite ao3 tag.

Fix Fic/Fix-it/variations thereof. I absolutely love a good fix fic for canon ailments. :D That said, I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers too, so when I can get a combination of both? I will probably stay up reading waaaay to late as a result. Hello three AM, where did you come from?

12.) If you write in more than one language, what's the difference?

If it's not complicated and in, say, Spanish then I'll usually put the actual Spanish into the fic with a translation below in the end notes. Spanish in particular I did learn some of in high school though I admit a lot of that's faded. If what I'm trying to say is complicated enough that I don't want to risk online translators screwing it up for me (or my memory being too hazy), then I'll write it in English with something to denote it's intended to be another language. Usually italics, though too much italics can become difficult for me to read through when I go back for edits.

I'll also look up common phrases and idioms to try and throw those in where they'd work most naturally - especially when I remember to play with Hartley and Eobard's tendency to use Latin as their personal secret language.

17.) Past or present tense? Why?

Past tense tends to flow most naturally for me, though sometimes I'll slip up into present tense. I tend to mostly read books that are past tense, so that's probably why it feels more natural/flows better when I write.

21.) Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

If they're a one shot fic then, most of the time, they stay that way. But if the fic is longer than a one chapter fic? I'm probably not going to be able to predict very well. The shorter a fic is, the better I can guess. The longer the fic is, the more I risk having it wind up on hiatus with x/? chapters sitting there mocking me.

29.) What's the hardest thing about writing?

Keeping my focus on one idea long enough to complete it. I've got so many ideas knocking around in my brain and I want to write them all.

35.) Thoughts on writing challenges/contests.

I like participating in events like prompt weekends/week long/month long events. Or bingos. I like the self imposed challenges there of completing on time. But I'm not really into contests or gifting events. I'm not really a competitive person, I tend to find it amusing in others but exhausting when I try to be too competitive myself. It kind of sucks the fun out for me. So writing contests aren't really interesting for me to participate in for that reason.

#thanks for asking #kitkatt0430 answers #writer ask game

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streetlight11 · 3 years

Text

Her Promise

Summary: It wasn’t a secret that you have disliked Sangyeon since you were in diapers. He was your mother’s best friend’s son. Though he was born just 27 days after you, it seems like he was a lot older than you in terms of his maturity. You don’t understand why the bad blood between you two. Until one day, you had been arranged for a marriage with him so suddenly.

Theme: arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, sad, fluff

Warnings: mentions of leukaemia, death, alcohol, swearing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This plot just randomly came to mind. It's kind of sad and a little angsty but you'll get through reading it. I promise! also, the words in italics is a flashback :)

Your family has been a close family friend to the Lee’s family and that was because your mother and Mrs Lee were best friends since high school. Also the reason why you were only 27 days older than Mr and Mrs Lee’s only son. However, not everyone has a happy friendship. In this case, it was you and the said son. His name was Lee Sangyeon and it was pretty obvious that you two could never get along since you were in diapers.

Despite your mothers being best friends and have been for the past 30 years, give or take. It’s no wonder that when they were pregnant with the both of you, they kept fighting with each other over small silly things when they barely got past even the slightest of arguments throughout their friendship.

And yet, it seems like luck was never on your side to begin with because throughout your whole education life up till today, he always ends up in your school or at least the school that you chose specifically hoping to be as far from him as possible.

It always baffles you how he would be the first person you spot amongst the crowd during the first day of school.

Did he do all these on purpose?

Why would he go to this extent just to annoy you if you both hated each other?

Maybe he didn’t in fact do this on purpose, but still, what are the odds that you end up in the same campus amongst the hundreds of schools available? That was a mystery you never plan on solving.

It was a bright Tuesday afternoon, students were scattered all over the large campus of Hangang University. You had just parked your car in a free space, exiting your vehicle before proceeding to lock it and walk towards the Computer Science building. You were halfway through the parking lot when someone suddenly swung an arm over your shoulder.

“Good morning my favourite person in the world!” Lisa giggled to your left as Rosie appeared on your right with her usual beaming smile that could melt hearts with just a glance.

“Hey girls, you’re early” You asked with a soft chuckle knowing Lisa was always late for class.

“Yeah, I wanted to leave my apartment now like I always do but Rosie begged me to drive her today because her baby is in the workshop.” Lisa huffs, only for the blonde girl on your right to defend herself.

“Hey, at least we got here on time. You’re welcome.”

With that, Lisa stuck out her tongue at Rosie, earning a laugh from you. The three of you continued to walk to the CS building, only to find Jennie and Jisoo chatting by the lockers while Jennie scavenged through her locker.

“Ew, is it just me or is the barbeque chicken a little dry today?” Jisoo scowls as she drops the chicken leg back onto her plate.

“No, I agree. It’s foul.” Lisa’s face contorts in disgust before you speak up.

“Do you guys want my salmon instead? I'm kind of full already.” You said, only to find them staring at you in concern. They began asking you if you were feeling okay and if you needed any medication of any sorts. To which you shook your head and just told them you were already full from the breakfast your mother made for you before she left for work with your dad.

Lisa and Jisoo ended up sharing your salmon piece, making you smile. At least your food wouldn’t be wasted, you thought.

A few hours later, your classes for the day were finally over. All you know is that your bed has been waiting for your arrival since the minute you left for school. You left class slightly later, telling the girls you had something to discuss with your lecturer regarding the assignment.

You told them to just head home first and not wait for you.

Almost 20 minutes later, you finally left the lecture room to head towards the parking lot where you had parked your car earlier. Your mind was clouded with the assignment requirements as you scrolled through the soft copy of the assignment through your email, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the group of boys walking down the hall.

That wasn’t until your shoulder roughly collided against someone’s back. It sent your whole body to stumble back from the impact. You were about to apologize when you heard a snicker coming from whoever it was.

So you glanced up and lord behold, it was just the person you were looking for…

Not really.

“Can you pay attention to where you walk? It’s not that hard to use your eyes.” Sangyeon’s voice was monotonous yet a pitch higher than others, just like his ego.

“That’s because you’re in my way, Lee.” You said sarcastically as you walked past him, not forgetting to purposely bump into his arm. He let out a scoff under his breath, fiery glare burning a prominent hole into the back of your head.

God, you can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Him included.

A few days later, it was finally a Friday. You heard words going around campus saying that one of the seniors in the school’s football team was having a frat party at his place tonight. He invited everyone in the football team, and people that he knew. Turns out he also told his teammates to bring whoever they wanted whether he knows them or not.

Lucky for you (or maybe not), Rosie’s boyfriend happens to be one of the football players. If you remember correctly, his name is Yunhyeong.

And so you already know where this is going.

Hence, the reason why you were now standing right outside the house where the party was held.

No doubt the house was a beautiful landed property at the hills that overlooked the city, it still didn’t give you complete comfort knowing that you would be surrounded by drunk young adults who have no care in the world once the alcohol takes over their system.

Sure you sometimes go to these parties but you weren’t really that type of girl. It’s always an unpleasant surprise to others who aren't your girls, when you decline their offers of alcohol saying you don’t drink.

Though there were instances where you’d have some people still insisting on giving you a drink, you rejected them firmly whether they liked it or not.

And today was no different.

One moment, you were talking to your friends. Another moment, and you were suddenly left alone by the kitchen island. Isolating yourself from the countless intoxicated bodies, dancing freely without a single care in the world.

It suddenly dawned on you that you were indeed alone, with no other individual that you recognize in that huge house. Your friends were scattered around the main living area, each of them either with their significant other or just randomly hooking up with someone. Using alcohol as an excuse to be brave and approach someone at a party like this.

You sighed, reaching into your back pocket to fish for your phone. You were so close to texting them you wanted to head home first, when a deep voice broke your little bubble of thoughts.

“Hey… Y/N right?” The handsome boy asked as he smiled down at you softly.

He clearly didn’t seem too drunk, nor was he completely sober like you.

“Yeah… you are?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound like a bitch.

“I’m Changkyun. I see your friends have left you so I thought maybe you’d want some company?”

Well, at least he’s being considerate enough.

“About that… I was actually about to-” As you were talking, your eyes were searching the room for at least one of the girls. But instead, your gaze was locked on a specific individual who was leaning against the staircase railings just staring at you with a subtle frown on his face, making your voice halt in your throat.

It was Sangyeon.

You should’ve known he would be there tonight. He’s the freaking midfielder in Hangang U’s soccer team for goodness sake!

For some reason, the moment you met his eyes, it was as though you got sucked into a black hole with no way to escape. That wasn’t until the warm touch on your arm made you jolt away and soon turned back to Changkyun who was now staring at you with worry.

“Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, hoping he didn’t scare you away by that simple touch.

“Y-Yeah… Sorry Changkyun, but I think I’m gonna head home. See you around.” You gave him a sincere smile before turning to leave after he said his goodbye.

There is no way you’re gonna stay there any longer. It’s not like you were drunk or anything. Not like you’d expected him to show up in black leather pants, dark grey button down shirt tucked in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair parted close to the middle to frame his face and show his forehead, attractively. And definitely not like you felt as though your stomach was doing a flip in your abdomen after seeing him there physically.

Right?

No. You still hate him. He’s just a walking nuisance in your life. You don’t feel anything for him. Maybe he needs to stop appearing in your line of vision every 5 minutes.

It’s been two weeks since that frat party in which you had texted your friends saying you were already at home. Of course you didn’t get a response immediately but they still replied to you the next morning, telling you they were safe and they were glad that you were too.

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon where students were all stuck on campus with nowhere to go. You were just seated at a wooden table alone with your laptop and scattered notes on the surface when the ray of sunlight that was previously shining down on you, got blocked by a figure.

You glanced up and not surprisingly, it was Sangyeon. He was alone. For once. He was always with his friends, so you wondered why he chose to walk around alone today.

“What?” You asked nonchalantly before looking back down at your laptop.

You heard a scoff from him only for him to speak up, “Did your parents tell you?”

You got confused as you looked back up to him and blinked, incredulously at what he just asked you.

“Tell me what?” You asked. He wasn’t sure if he was faking it or not but he figured with how genuinely confused you look, it was quite clear you weren’t pretending to not know what he was referring to.

“My parents are coming over to your home this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’. I’m not going. I’m not about to sit there and listen to what the ‘something serious’ is, let alone sit there trapped and stare at you the whole night.” Sangyeon said blankly as he burned holes in your head.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you there anyway.” You scoffed, only for him to push himself off the table and smoothed down his shirt.

Sangyeon left without saying anything else, watching as he turned his head as though in search of his friends. However, the minute you looked back down at your laptop, it seems like you missed the way he glanced at you subtly before turning back in front.

That same day, you went home to find your parents in the living room. Your father was watching the news on the flat screen tv while your mother was just watering the potted plants on the shelves.

The minute you stepped into the living room, your father turned to you and smiled brightly, “Oh, sweetie you’re back. We wanted to tell you that Mr and Mrs-” but before he could finish, you did it for him, stunning them in the process.

“-Lee are coming over this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’... I know.”

With that, your mother and father glanced at each other before a smile appeared on their faces again. You already knew what they were about to ask so you beat them to it.

“Sangyeon told me… So what’s so serious that they wanna come over here and talk about it?” You asked, not knowing what to expect but all you got was silence.

“We have to wait till everyone’s there.”

“Not everyone’s gonna be there…” You said.

“What do you mean?” Your mother asked.

“Sangyeon said he’s not coming. He doesn't want to.”

“B-But, he has to be there. It’s important.”

“What’s so important that he has to be there for?” Your voice laced with annoyance at the thought of having to sit in a room with him for minutes too long. Your parents got quiet before your mother spoke up again but for some reason, her voice sounded weak.

“You’ll know on Saturday.” She gave you a weak smile. Too weak to the point that she almost looks… pale?

Why is she pale?

But your mind was too jumbled up with what the main topic for this said family dinner would revolve around. Hence, why you were now sprinting up the steps and to your room. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You just hoped the weekend passes by before you know it.

Saturday came in a flash and to say you were ready for whatever family gathering this was, is definitely a lie. You were curious. You were desperate to know just what important business is there to discuss with you and Sangyeon. Despite knowing he won’t be there for whatever this meeting is about, it still rendered you curious on just how important this said matter is.

You were told to look presentable even though you’ll just be at home. So you pulled out the nicest outfit you could find and just opted for a simple blouse and your denim jeans.

Once you were done getting ready, you left your room only to hear your mother calling out to you from downstairs, “Y/N sweetie, the Lee’s are here!”

You made your way down the marbled steps, ready to greet the elder couple when your eyes fell on their son who clearly said he wasn’t going to be here. But of course, it looked like he had been forced against his own will to be here and you were right.

“Oh! My sweet Y/N! It’s been so long. How are you my dear?” Mrs Lee asked as you broke your gaze from Sangyeon only to smile happily when you looked at his parents.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Lee. I’m doing well despite my crazy uni life. I hope you’re both well and healthy!” You said as Mrs Lee hugged you warmly like how she had been doing since you were young.

After greeting them, the 6 of you began walking to your dining room. You then turned to Sangyeon who was walking beside you, only to ask out of curiosity, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna come?”

With that, he turns to you and shoots daggers at you through his glare but it does nothing to scare you away.

“Do I look like I wanna be here?”

“Clearly.” You said, just to get on his nerves and it did.

“Fuck you.”

“I’d gladly fuck myself too.”

Sangyeon frowns at your comment despite knowing it was sarcastic. But he still found it amusing that it came out from your mouth. Sure you’ve cursed him a lot of times when you fought with him, but this was a different thing.

All of you finally sat down in the dining room, you helped your mother set the table.

A few minutes went by and everyone was just chatting amongst one another. Well, more specifically the elders while you and Sangyeon simply sat there across each other in silence. You were absentmindedly picking on your food, suddenly losing appetite.

All you wanted was for them to start discussing the very important business. Which is why your patience has run thin, making you blurt out the question that has been floating in your head since Wednesday.

“What’s the important thing you called me and Sangyeon here for?”

The room fell silent as you kept your eyes on your plate of untouched food. Completely ignoring the way Sangyeon had his eyes trained on you. After what felt like hours, your mother finally announced it.

It made your heart stop for a moment.

“We have decided to marry you off with Sangyeon.”

That was the last thing you ever wanted to hear from them. Never did you expect it to be this. Why were they doing this to you? Of course you know you’re single and not dating anyone but still… How could they?

“What?!” Both you and Sangyeon said in unison.

Tension filled the air, thick in its wake. You couldn’t look elsewhere except for your mother who had announced the news.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You mumbled under your breath as Sangyeon got up, letting the chair drag painfully across the wooden floor. His mother grabbed his wrist to stop him but he roughly yanked his wrist from her and simply replied with his firm answer, “There’s no way I’m marrying her. I’m out.”

Sangyeon stormed out and you were so tempted to do the same but all you could do was glare at your parents in disbelief.

“Sweetie-” Your mom began but you were quick to interject.

“No! That’s not happening! Mom, you know we hate each other! How can you ask me to marry him when I don’t even love him?!” Your voice was raised as you stood up from your seat. Blood boils in your veins, heart pounding rapidly in your chest out of pure anger. You wanted nothing more but to scream.

You turned in your heels to leave but your mother caught your hands when you were about to reach the stairs. You pulled your hand from her grip, throwing your arm behind your back from the force.

“Sweetie please, listen to me-”

“No mom! I’m not marrying him and that’s final!” You yelled, too furious to even notice the way your mom had clutched her chest as her breathing started to become shallow.

Before you knew it, your mother collapsed to the ground but you were quick to catch her body right when she was about to crash onto the hard wooden floor.

“Mom!” You gasped as your dad and both of Sangyeon’s parents rushed over to where you were.

Mr Lee called the ambulance in which they came just 10 minutes later, carrying your mother’s unconscious body onto the stretcher and bringing her into the ambulance. Your father followed her in the vehicle while Mr Lee offered you a ride there.

Hours passed and you were waiting patiently outside the ER when a doctor came out. Your dad rushed over so you could only guess that she was the one who attended to your mom.

“Doctor, how’s my wife?”

“Your wife’s still under constant checks but so far, her heart is beating stably. However, it seems that her abnormal white blood cells have rapidly multiplied since her last check up.” The doctor said, making you frown.

“White blood cells? What’s going on? What’s wrong with my mother?” You asked desperately, still not sure of what’s going on.

“Your mother was diagnosed with Leukaemia stage 2 but from what I saw today, I believe it’s now up to stage 4.” The doctor announced, making you even more confused.

“What?” You whispered as you stared at your dad, hoping that it’s not true. But all you got was a disheartened smile that broke you into a million pieces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered to him sadly, upset that they’ve been keeping this a secret from you.

“I’m sorry baby, but your mother told me not to. She… She didn’t want you to get worried.” He replied.

You don’t understand. You knowing about this was better than keeping it hidden from you. If you had known about this sooner, you wouldn’t have shouted at her. Instead, you would have taken extra care of her. You would have given her more love than what she gave you. And you wouldn’t have to stand here, right now, hoping for your mother’s safety and health.

You slumped onto one of the chairs, staring into space as your father rubbed soft circles into your back to calm you down.

Three days passed and you have been visiting your mother at the hospital diligently after your classes. You stayed till night time, allowing your dad to fetch you from the hospital after he also came by to visit your mom.

You were currently alone in the room with your mom as your dad went out to buy dinner for all three of you.

She was just lying there sleeping peacefully after having a deep conversation with her about some things, her eyes now closed, breathing consistent, chest heaving up and down according to her oxygen intake.

You were just about to doze off when the heart rate monitor suddenly began beeping rapidly. It caused you to panic as you ran out of the room to call for the nurses.

When you came back, your mother was shaking on the hospital bed. Tears started streaming down your face as you found yourself curled up in the corner just watching the hospital staff do whatever is necessary to help your mother.

You didn’t notice your dad who had just come back, only to rush to you after putting the food down on the desk. It was when he cupped your face, that you finally realized his presence.

He pulled you against him as you couldn’t tear your eyes off your mother’s figure, shaking violently on the bed.

It was as though someone had dropped a bomb just a few feet away, a deafening silence pierced your ear drums followed by the single beep sound that was continuous without a pause. The sound soon became a mere ring in your ears.

You slowly brought your line of sight towards the heart rate monitor beside your mother’s bed and that’s when you saw it. The painful straight line with no spikes going up or down.

That’s when you knew, she was gone.

No. This can’t be real. This is just a dream. Wake up Y/N. Pinch yourself. Slap yourself. Do whatever it is to wake yourself up from this nightmare!

And yet, you’re still there in your dad’s arms listening to the nurse who wrote down the words you never hoped to hear.

“Patient is Jeong Hyemin. Time of death, 2143hrs.”

All the more you cried harder against your father’s chest. You were broken. Completely and utterly broken. Your mother left you before you could even say goodbye. She left before you could even tell her that you love her unconditionally even though you told her that everyday.

As much as your heart hurts, you knew you had to accept it. You knew you had to be strong for your mother. And that was exactly what you did.

The next whole week, you didn’t come to school. You emailed your lecturers personally and told them about your loss. They all sent you their well wishes for you and your dad, to which they excused you from school to attend your mother’s funeral. It broke you but you couldn’t collapse just then.

Your mother would want you to be happy, to continue living a wonderful life, with or without her. And that’s exactly what you were gonna do.

The next two weeks came as a blur and you were dreading for the day to finally arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the mirror and see what you looked like. Because at that very moment, you were in an item of clothing where you never thought you would wear anytime soon.

It was a wedding dress. Your wedding dress. It has finally come to this.

Your makeup stylist did a few touch ups to your eyeshadow whilst another lady adjusted the bow on your waist that separates your laced top with your beautiful silk gown that drops to the floor elegantly behind you.

If you were being honest, you had hoped for this very day to come when you would walk down the aisle with your arm linked with your dad’s while your mother stood at the front row, watching you proudly. Witnessing you entering a new life with your chosen partner whom you’d love with all your heart.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case for you and it hurts you. But you kept telling yourself the same thing over and over again.

“I have to stay strong.”

That was the last thing you mumbled to yourself as you left the bride’s room, only to head towards the outdoor wedding ceremony where your parents had already booked an incredibly beautiful mansion located at the highest hills of the city.

It was a small ceremony with only your family and his, and very close relatives of both sides but that was it. None of your friends were there but you already told them about today.

Little did you know, his friends knew about it too.

You were approaching the outdoor garden where everyone was waiting for you when all of a sudden, your emotions started swirling in you.

A tear rolled down your cheek the minute you saw your dad standing at the doorway which leads you directly down the aisle. Your dad gave you a soft smile before cupping your face and kissing your forehead. He wiped the tear away with his thumb as he whispered, “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m sure your mother would be so happy to see you like this.”

With that, you had to force your tears back, swallowing them as you nodded before linking your arm with his.

The song started playing and soon, both of you began to walk down the aisle. The first thing you saw was Sangyeon standing at the foot of the platform. He was wearing a navy blue tuxedo, looking quite handsome if you were being completely honest.

But the frown on his face was evident enough for you to know that he didn’t like this as much as you didn’t like this either.

Once you were standing just two feet away, you turned to your dad who kissed you again on the forehead before putting your hand in Sangyeon’s outstretched ones. After your dad left your side, Sangyeon guided you up the steps carefully.

His touch was soft, almost as if he wasn’t touching you at all. Minutes went by and right after you’ve both said your vows, it was time for the exchange of rings and sealing the deal with a kiss but of course, neither of you agreed to it. So when you were officially announced as husband and wife, you both looked at each other with a familiarity in your eyes which screamed “I hate all of this”.

Sangyeon lets out a soft groan before planting a chaste kiss to your temple, pulling away as soon as he kisses.

Both of you walked back down the aisle and once you were in the mansion, it took you less than a second to walk away from him and make your way straight to the bride’s makeup room.

Sangyeon didn’t bother to call for you as he too made his way to the common room, wanting to be as far away from you as possible. He hated every single minute of this. He never wanted this. But he was being forced to. And he doesn’t even know why.

When he heard from his parents that you accepted the arranged marriage, it baffled him.

You were both so adamant on rejecting this whole fiasco during that night of the dinner so what changed your mind?

That was a question he could never solve.

Days became weeks and you had moved into the new home that his parents and yours bought for Sangyeon and you to live in. It was a beautiful one story home that had 3 bedrooms, one study room, one living room and a backyard complete with a swimming pool. You were thankful for the home but you didn’t think it was necessary considering the state that you and Sangyeon were being put in.

Nevertheless, you didn’t want to disappoint the elders. Hence the reason why you moved in with Sangyeon without a single argument with your dad and in-laws.

Unfortunately, the fact that you two were now living under the same roof, it was quite expected of you to end up fighting over the smallest little things. If being within radius of each other on campus brought unnecessary snickers and curses to one another, living under the same roof only heightened those said things by 80%.

There wasn’t a day where you could walk around the house peacefully unless the other wasn't home.

It has been 8 weeks since you lived there with him. Despite the constant fights and heated arguments that the two of you often get into, none of it leads to the other doing unfaithful things behind each other’s back.

Before the marriage, it was quite clear that you weren’t in any sort of relationship with anyone nor were you the kind to sleep around with strangers you just met at a club or parties. Whereas, Sangyeon on the other hand was completely that, except he too was single. He tends to sleep around with girls he met at a party or the clubs he went to.

But never did he actually pursue any of his one night stands because he simply didn’t feel that way for them.

However, when he got married to you despite being against it, he made a promise to himself that he should not do all those things to you even if he doesn’t love you. Because he knows that it’s wrong and that he despises people who cheat on their partners.

For that, he told himself not to be that monster.

And he didn’t. Thankfully.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t storm out of the house after an argument just to get fresh air and be away from you at that very moment.

This goes both ways as sometimes, you would do the same if you couldn’t stand being in radius of him.

But tonight was different.

You were just washing the dishes when the front door opened to reveal a very drained Sangyeon who had just gotten back from the gym.

He strolled through down the hallway with his duffle bag strap resting on his right shoulder, the wet patches on his grey tank top sticking to his torso, black track shorts resting on his hips. His hair was slicked back from being drenched in sweat.

You spared him a quick glance over your shoulder before you turned back to the dirty dishes. Unfortunately for you, he caught you glancing just in time.

He walked past you to go to the fridge after putting his bag down on the floor, opening it and immediately grabbing the bottle of iced water sitting there patiently for him to take it. He downed half the bottle in less than 5 seconds, only to hear him let out a satisfied sigh right after.

You remained quiet as he looked at you for a moment, a small part of him wanted to ask you if you’ve eaten but a bigger part of him, more so his ego, was telling him to walk away.

For some reason, he decided to go with the former. Something he hasn’t been doing all these years.

“Had your dinner yet?” He asked, making you turn off the tap after setting down the clean dish onto the rack above your head before turning to him with a slight confusion on your face.

“Mhm. You?”

“Not yet.” He said as he leaned his hip against the counter top.

“What do you feel like eating?” You asked, wiping your hands dry with the towel hanging off the hook on the wall.

“I kind of have the feel for kimchi fried rice… I’ll just make do with what is there in the fridge. No worries.” Sangyeon said with a soft smile on his face before he left to take a long shower. Something he always did when he had a lot going on in his mind.

The minute he left, you stared at his descending back for a minute before turning back with a confused frown on your face.

Sangyeon was in the shower for almost 20 minutes. Taking a warm bath to calm his tensed muscles due to the intense workout he did with Juyeon and Hyunjae earlier. After his stress relieving bath, Sangyeon changed into a pair of sweatpants and his oversized shirt he normally uses to sleep.

He towel dried his hair, leaving it in an utter mess on his head with no care whatsoever.

He simply brushed through his wet locks with his fingers haphazardly before leaving his bedroom toilet. Sangyeon and you weren’t sharing bedrooms. It was just a mutual agreement right from the first night together.

You took the master bedroom in this house while he took the second bedroom.

Sangyeon was just walking down the hall, scratching the back of his head randomly when he caught a strong whiff of something delicious filling his nostrils.

“What the?” He whispered to himself as he cautiously made his way closer to the end of the hall. The minute he made a right turn, that’s when he saw you scooping out the contents of the pan into a clean plate. To his surprise, it was the exact dish he told you he was planning to cook earlier.

He finally stepped out of the shadows, only to startle you.

You flinched but that was it.

“Hey… I figured you’d be too tired to cook so I made it for you. Just leave the plate in the sink after you’re done. I’ll wash it later.” You pressed your lips into a small little smile before placing the dish on the kitchen island together with a spoon.

Right when you were about to leave the kitchen, his voice stopped you from walking any further only to hear him whisper a soft “thank you” to you.

You gave him a nod and soon left.

Sangyeon stares at your descending back before you disappear from his trail of sight, only to then tilt his head in amusement at your sudden kind act. For some reason, he found himself smiling as he took a mouthful of your delicious fried rice.

Another 3 weeks went by and you had just gotten back from your night study session with Lisa and Jennie, only to find Sangyeon slumped on the couch. He had his face buried in his hands as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

You frowned as you locked the door and soon went over to stand behind the long couch, diagonally from the couch he was sitting at.

“Rough day?” You asked quietly, but all you got was silence so you tried again.

“Have you eaten?”

Silence.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

Silence.

“Sangyeon, even if you hate me, at least say yes or no so I can-” And that’s when he bursts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon yelled as he glared at you. His nostrils flared upon every heavy breath he took. You were stunned by his harsh tone, clearly not wanting any argument when you first asked the question.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a tone that was pretty obvious to anyone that you were clearly offended by his words.

“Didn’t you hear me?! I said shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon stood tall, his face red as you could only imagine he was stressed about something. A scoff left your lips, feeling the anger seeping through your skin with every word he said to you.

“Why? Why do you want me to shut the fuck up so badly?!” You asked as you stared at him with mixed emotions.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying!” Sangyeon growled as he began to storm off but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Answer my fucking question, Lee Sangyeon! I was just being nice and caring about your well being and all I got was to shut up? You’re a fucking asshole you know that?” You said, your words filled with venom as he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching tight.

“Who taught you to be such a brat? Your mother?” Sangyeon accidentally blurted that out of sheer anger. Your grip around his wrist left and the next thing he knew, your eyes were glossy from the tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t bring my mother into this.” You warned but he was still fuming with anger.

“Why? Why can’t I?! She’s the only reason why we’re in this stupid marriage anyway!”

You didn’t know what ran through your mind but the minute those words left his mouth, you couldn’t help but swing your hand onto his cheek. This shocked him to a certain extent as he simply glared at you but never did anything to hurt you physically.

“Do you know why I accepted the marriage proposal? Do you wanna know why I decided to walk down that fucking aisle and have myself being called as your official wife?! Well here’s the reason why. I promised my mom I would.” You paused as he remained quiet. You could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as though trying to process your words.

“My mom died wanting me to marry you. She told me she wanted to see me walk down the aisle one day and into your arms. Until now, I don’t understand why she specifically wants it to be you, but that’s what she wanted. So I promised her that she would be there for when that day comes. But she left me before she could even witness that for herself. She left before I could even say goodbye. It broke me. It fucking broke me Sangyeon! That’s why I chose to accept the proposal even when…”

You stopped for a moment, not realizing that you had been crying until you tasted salty tears on your lips.

“...even when I didn’t love you. I did it because I made a promise to her. I don’t want to let her down, Sangyeon.... I never wanted any of this to happen. And I know you feel the same so I’m sorry.” Those were the last things you said to him before going to your bedroom and locking yourself in there.

Sangyeon was left standing there, feeling completely shitty with what he said to you earlier. He never meant to hurt your feelings. He should’ve known better not to mention your mom but he only said that out of pure anger.

He knows it’s his fault but his ego was too high for him to simply give in to his mistake.

He was about to just brush this off when he heard the door click and soon, you were seen leaving your bedroom with a cross body purse on you. You didn’t give him the chance to speak as you just left the house with a soft slam of your front door. He watched as you took your white mini cooper and drove out of the driveway.

“Sweetie, why don’t you want to accept the proposal?” Your mother asked weakly as you sat on the chair beside her hospital bed.

“Mom, you know I don’t love him. We’ve been fighting since we were kids. I don’t see why I should marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Oh sweetie, you can only learn to love by loving.”

“Mom, that’s just fairy tale talk.”

“Do you wanna know something?” She asked as you stared at her quietly while you caressed the back of her hand with your thumbs as he took this silence to continue.

“Your father and I weren’t on good terms too when we first met each other. We always fought in high school and it went on for quite a while until Mrs Lee set me up on this blind date and it was with your father. At first we found it ridiculous, but after that first date, I realized that maybe your father wasn’t as bad as I thought. And so, we started to slowly understand the process of loving someone and soon enough, we fell in love. Love doesn’t always come to you directly. Sometimes, you need to find it yourself.”

She paused, studying your facial expressions carefully to make sure you weren’t angry or about to burst at her for the next thing she was planning to say.

“Can you promise me something sweetie?”

“Anything… Anything at all mom.” You said with a glint of hope in your eyes.

“Can you promise me that you’ll marry Mrs Lee’s son? I don’t care when. Just… as long as it’s him. Even if I’m not around anymore...”

“Mom-”

“Please? For me?”

Your heart broke hearing her pleading voice. You don’t understand why she was so persistent in you marrying him but for now, you couldn’t bear to say no. You couldn’t bear to break her heart. So, with a heavy heart, you chose your mother’s happiness before yours.

“Okay mom… I promise. But you have to promise me too that you’ll be fine and that you’ll come back to me and dad, okay?”

“I promise, sweetheart. I love you so much.” She said.

“I love you too mom.”

That night when you came back to your old house, your dad greeted you at the door with a shocked look on his face. He asked you why you were there at such a late time so you explained to him that you got into a big fight with Sangyeon and that you wanted to stay there for the next few days. Of course your father was happy that he would finally have someone in the house with him, but he was also worried that Sangyeon would be concerned over you.

You told him not to tell Sangyeon anything and that you wanted time away from him for now, in which your dad just nodded understandingly. The next few days, you spent your days diligently avoiding Sangyeon as much as you can despite being in the same campus. Lucky for you, he had very different schedules than you.

Which means, better chance for you to avoid him and not accidentally bump into him on campus grounds. And so far, your plan is working.

It’s been at least 3 weeks since you last went home to your shared place with him and you were starting to run low on your clothing supply back at your old house. Which means, you probably had no choice but to go back there now.

In all honesty, you weren’t mad at him anymore.

You were just too stubborn to face him after that argument. But it looks like you have no other choice now.

Hence, the reason why you were currently standing outside your doorstep at 8pm, noticing the vehicles parked outside your gates. By the looks of it, those probably belonged to his friends. And you were right. Because the minute you unlocked the door, you were immediately greeted by the chattering and laughter coming from the living room.

You walked in further, carefully after taking off your shoes and placing them in the shoe rack. Right when you had just made it by the end of the hallway and the living room was in full view, that’s where you saw the 6 figures scattered around the room.

The TV was playing a movie while the coffee table was filled with boxes of pizzas and other snacks for them to munch on.

Before you could speak up, two of them noticed your presence, making the blonde haired one to say hi, “Oh, hi Y/N.”

With that, the rest of them finally turned around upon hearing their friend greet you. Sangyeon, who was standing right in front of the TV, checking the cables, whipped his head around only to lock eyes with you. He froze in his spot, unsure if this was real considering you’ve been avoiding him like a plague the past 3 weeks.

“Y/N…” Was the only thing he managed to whisper under his breath as you awkwardly chuckled, hoping you didn’t create an unsettling atmosphere for them.

“Hey…” You whispered as he carefully made his way to you. The moment he was standing right in front of you, neither of you spoke. Both of you are afraid of saying the wrong thing which could potentially lead to another argument. But Sangyeon was smart enough to know not to make unnecessary comments to you after what happened the last time. So instead, he opted for an apology.

“Listen, about that night… I- I’m really sorry… I didn’t... I didn’t know.”

You could only give him a small smile that he could clearly see was weak and almost drained as you spoke up, “It’s okay. Anyways… I think I’m gonna rest.”

He simply nodded, resisting the urge to pull you into a hug and tell you how sorry he was for treating you like crap all these while. These past 3 weeks have made him realise that he wasn’t the nicest of people to you, that he said a lot of things that had definitely hurt you in the past, that he has been nothing but mean to you.

Upon hearing your bedroom door close, Sangyeon lets out a defeated sigh before walking back to his friends who then asked him if everything was okay. After he told them that everything was indeed okay, he plopped back down on the couch but it seemed to worry his friends seeing how sad Sangyeon looked at the moment.

Whenever he was with them, he has always been the goofy, savage, often picking on the others to get a reaction out of them, kind of guy. They’ve never properly seen this softer side of him.

It’s been nearly an hour since you came home and yet, he hasn’t caught a single glimpse of you anywhere. He got worried for you, not knowing whether you’ve eaten or not. So he decided to check on you. He got up from the ground to excuse himself, telling them to just continue what they were doing.

When he arrived at your supposedly shared bedroom, he found you seated on the window couch just staring into the night sky. However, before he could even knock on the door and push it wider, he heard soft sobs from you that gradually grew louder. He stayed by the door and unintentionally listened to your whispers.

“I miss you mum… I’m sorry if I couldn’t live up to my promise just like you wanted me to. I know I’m not the best wife to him, but I’m trying… I’m trying… for you. I wish you were still here beside me. To guide me on how to be a good wife. To love someone without feeling trapped. To love someone the way you and dad loves me. I’m so sorry mum… I’m so truly sorry…”

Sangyeon’s heart shattered into a million pieces for you. That’s when he realized that his feelings for you had changed. That all he wanted to do right at this very moment was to protect you. You were broken, fragile and yet, he’s been treating you horribly all these while.

He couldn’t take it any longer. With that being said, he carefully and quietly made his way to you. Not making a sound as you had your head buried in your knees, cries getting louder the closer he came to you. However, when you felt his soft hands caress the sides of your arms, you looked up. Your eyes glistened under the moonlight, your cheeks soaked with your freshly falling tears.

At that moment, you looked so vulnerable.

So when he pulled you into his embrace, you easily let him. Burying your face into his chest as he gently rubs circles onto your back, caressing your head comfortingly.

After a few seconds of silence, you finally whispered against his chest. Just loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough that nobody standing outside the door could hear.

“I miss her Sangyeon…”

Sangyeon wasn’t sure how to respond to your confession but he tried as best as he could to make you feel better.

“And I know that she misses you too. But it’s okay, she will always be with you. You’ll be okay… I promise.” He whispered and almost immediately, you pulled back as he frowned in confusion.

“You shouldn’t promise me anything…” You said, your tears slowly getting lesser and lesser by the minute.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the last time someone made me a promise, they promised me that they’ll be okay and that they’ll never leave me… And yet she did...” Your voice hushed. He could tell that that was your trauma. Making promises.

He felt a tear threatening to roll down his cheek but he managed to hold back. Sangyeon softly reached up to cup your face and caress your cheeks with both thumbs before he spoke up, “I’m sorry she did. I’m sorry that promise got broken. But it’s not her fault. You know it wasn’t. So let me make a promise to you now and this time, it won’t be broken.”

With that being said, you cried even harder as he just pulled you against his chest almost cradling you like a child. After almost 20 minutes in the room, he finally let go of your fragile figure and asked if you wanted to eat.

You told him you weren’t hungry and that you just wanted to rest. Sangyeon nodded, bringing you to the bed as he carefully tucked you in to make you cosy. He was about to leave you alone when you grabbed his wrists. Sangyeon turned around with such a soft gaze on you, it nearly melted you.

“Where are you going?” You asked with a soft voice, almost shy. Sangyeon found it so endearing that he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I’m gonna go back to the boys and maybe call it a night early.” He smiled, to which you felt his other hand come to wrap its fingers around your extended wrist, gently pulling it away before caressing the back of your wrist with his thumb.

“Can you come back after… please?” You whispered as you saw him smile again before putting your hand down on the mattress softly.

“I will.”

Soon enough, Sangyeon left you in the room to rest for a bit while he went back to his friends and relayed the message to them. Thankfully, the boys were very understanding. They told Sangyeon to send their well wishes to you in which he definitely would. After they left, Sangyeon went ahead and cleared the leftover trash.

Silently thanking the boys for cleaning most of the mess up before he even came back into the living room. He was almost done cleaning, not forgetting to brush his teeth before going back to your room only to find you already asleep with your back facing the door.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but smile as he closed the door behind him and soon made his way quietly to the other side of the room.

He carefully pulled the duvet up, climbing into bed after putting the duvet back down.

He very gently lifted your head up to let his right arm slide under your neck as a pillow, proceeding to pull your body closer against his chest. Once you were both in a comfortable position, he gently wrapped his other hand around your waist. Caressing your side in a comforting manner.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispered as he soon drifted off into slumber.

Ever since then, both of you had stopped the constant arguments. You weren’t always annoyed by every little thing the other did. In school, when you’d accidentally bump into one another, either one would smile and acknowledge the other. Some people who witnessed this, found it strange but your close friends didn’t.

It’s been a good 4 months since you’d reconciled with Sangyeon. Though there were disagreements at times, those arguments would however, be resolved as quickly as it came.

But one thing’s for sure, is that during the past 4 months, you and Sangyeon had slowly found yourselves falling for each other. Neither of you said it out loud, but apparently those around you could visibly tell. Especially your friends.

It was a Thursday afternoon, you and the girls were just walking to the lunch hall when Lisa spotted Sangyeon and his friends just walking down the main building. It seems like they were heading towards the lunch hall as well. With that being said, Lisa called out to Sangyeon’s name, causing him and the rest to turn.

The minute Sangyeon’s eyes locked on Lisa’s and then on you, his gaze softened as you saw the corner of his lips curving upwards into a cute smirk.

They stopped walking to let you girls catch up and once you did, Lisa immediately went to Juyeon and began talking to him casually. The other girls went to walk with the rest while you came to a quick stop beside Sangyeon before you continued walking with the others ahead of you.

“How was class?” He asked, his arm accidentally brushing against yours as you walked further down the building.

“Horrible. Can you believe he wants us to submit 10 codes by the end of this week? I swear that man wants me dead.” You groaned in annoyance, only to hear him chuckle. But what he said next, caught you by surprise.

“But I don’t want you dead.”

With that, you turned to him as a small smile appeared on your face despite the frown you had. Both of you walked in silence, just basking in the conversations of your friends when you felt a soft tickling feeling on your fingers.

You glanced down to see that his hand was playfully brushing against your fingers, making you look up to catch him already staring at you.

Sangyeon smiled at you innocently, not sure if he wanted to say anything else until he felt you slide your hand into his, lacing your fingers with his easily. Now it was his turn to look down and then back up at you. All he did was chuckle, a sound you could definitely get used to.

A week passed and it was finally the weekend. You and Sangyeon didn’t have anything planned for the day.

Or at least you thought.

You were just lounging on the couch on a beautiful Saturday evening when Sangyeon came over to plop down beside you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“You’re oddly happy? What’s going on?” You asked with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I have a surprise for you but you have to go get ready okay?”

“Get ready? It’s already 7 o’clock. Where can we go?” You asked but all you got was a soft whine from him telling you to just do it. You opted to listen as he reminded you to wear prettily. You weren’t sure where you were going so you didn’t want to either overdress or underdress.

So you opted for simple denim skinny jeans, a baby blue sleeveless top, a white long knit cardigan and a pair of beige chunky heeled sandals.

When you left your shared bedroom to go to the living room, you were surprised to see him dressed handsomely in his black skinny jeans, a white button down shirt with the first few buttons undone, along with a navy blue bomber jacket. You saw him look at your outfit from head to toe, only for him to smirk playfully at you.

“Damn, who knew my wife could look this beautiful?” Sangyeon teased, making you giggle.

“Sangyeon, I literally wear jeans everyday.”

“Exactly.”

When you realized what he was trying to say, you soon found yourself blushing as you walked over to him and gently slapped his chest with your hand. Urging him to go before you slapped that cute smirk off his face.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but laugh but nonetheless left the house in his matte black Bentley. You watched as he drove down the street, bringing you to a part of the city where you don’t remember going to before in your life. The car ride was filled with jokes and laughter coming from both of you. He distracted you too much to the point where you didn’t even notice you were already at the location he wanted to bring you.

You looked out the window and that’s when you realize, “Is this an outdoor cinema?” You gasped when you saw the open field with a large screen at the centre, along with the endless rows of couples seated on their own blankets with snacks and drinks of their preferences.

“Sangyeon… This is…” You were speechless and he could see.

He chuckled as he just stared at you with such endearment in his eyes. Some people would just call it love.

“It’s wonderful.” You finally got to finish your sentence, turning to him with a smile.

“I’m glad you think so. Now let’s go! The movie’s about to start.”

Two hours had passed and you were now a few minutes in of the second movie. You noticed some couples were starting to get comfortable on their blankets. You were starting to get tired just sitting up straight and Sangyeon noticed your subtle shifts, desperate to find a comfortable sitting position.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m okay, just a little tired from sitting up.” You explained with a bashful little smile. Just then, Sangyeon thought of an idea that was completely beyond your imagination.

Hence, when he patted the space in between his legs, you glanced down and then back at him who was seen smiling softly to you. None of it was making you feel creeped out. In fact, you felt safe and that you could trust him. After all, he was your husband anyways. Of course you trust him.

“Come here.” He said as he stared at you calmly. He wasn’t sure if you were entirely up for this but before he could take his words back, that’s when he saw you carefully crawling towards the space he patted earlier.

Once you were seated in front of him, Sangyeon scooted forward a little before he slid his arms around your waist.

He soon pulled you against his chest, before he whispered in your ear, “Comfortable?”

You turned your head to look at him but instead got slightly flustered by the close proximity that led you to feeling his lips accidentally brush against your own. You got quiet for a moment, praying that he didn’t hear the way your heart was pounding against your chest.

You couldn’t trust your voice so you opted for a soft hum to answer his question. The next few minutes, you found yourself getting more and more comfortable in his arms, putting your hands on top of his forearms as you unconsciously caressed his skin in a calming manner. All the while, Sangyeon was behind you, completely distracted from the movie in front of him.

Instead, his mind was fuzzy with how close you were to him at that very moment. This was something he never thought would happen back when he was still young.

But now that he was here with you, just cuddling at an outdoor movie theatre, he couldn’t help but want more of this. Sangyeon found himself smiling as he couldn’t help but give your sides a gentle squeeze, telling you that he was there with you and that he would never leave you.

Thankfully, you got the silent message.

Because right after he did that, you turned your head to look at him. His eyes held the galaxy. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes.

Both of you were silent but it wasn’t awkward. You didn’t know what came over you but a sense of confidence washes over you. With that being said, you carefully leaned forward to close the gap and soon pressed your lips on his.

To say he was taken aback slightly, is definitely an understatement.

But it took him less than 3 seconds to finally move his lips against yours in a smooth rhythm. You brought your right hand up to gently cup his face as you kissed him.

Sangyeon tightens his hold on you, pulling away from the kiss only to look into your eyes with such adoration. He wasn’t sure if now was the right time to express his feelings for you, but he thought, what was there to lose. So with that thinking, Sangyeon took a small breath before he uttered the 3 words he never thought he’d say to you but he did. And every single word he said at that moment, was as sincere as ever.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at him before you kissed him again in a longing kiss before pulling away and replying to him with the exact emotions you felt for him genuinely.

“I love you too, Sangyeon.”

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz sangyeon #lee sangyeon #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz x reader #sangyeon x reader #tbz sangyeon scenarios #the boyz sangyeon scenarios #tbz sangyeon fluff #tbz sangyeon angst

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rosemarycupcake42 · 4 years

Text

Hello hello everyone how are you?

My friends could tell this was coming a mile away-

So I got bored, I was angsty, so we have this beautiful piece of hurt comfort I believe?

Word count: 10k (otherwise known as 8k over the discord character limit)

Warnings: bad grammar, spelling errors, capitalization? Don’t know her, SADNESS, anxiety, talks of Rapunzel being a bitch to Varian

And no, we don’t like Rapunzel on this blog, not one bit

(Before we start, (Y/N) is your name, (N/N) is your nickname, and bold is memory Varian, italics are memory you

Coping Techniques

Varian 🧪 x reader

“Varian can’t calm his anxiety after getting back from getting kicked out of the castle, until he remembers something (Y/N) taught him, so he lets that memory guide him through calming himself.”

He was in pain. No, not physically, although it certainly felt like it, but emotionally. He felt like someone was tearing at his heart from the inside out, and he could do nothing to stop it. It hurt so bad, but he didn’t want to burden anyone else, so he just sat there, hugging himself, digging his nails into his arm, waiting for the pain he knew would never go away to leave him.

Deep down, under all of his blaming and hate towards Rapunzel, he thought it was his fault.

If he had just stopped messing with the rocks like his dad said…

He pulled his head up from between his knees and looked at his father, encased in honey colored amber, lifting his letter to the sky as if some other worldly being would reach down and take it from him.

His eyes tear up again, and he quickly hides his eyes behind his knees.

He doesn't want his father to see him crying, even if he is encased in amber.

He would be ashamed, And Varian can’t handle that thought.

He digs his nails further into his arms, and hisses when he feels them break skin and the blood seeps under his nails.

He vaguely remembers some calming techniques (Y/N) taught him for moments like these, and he struggles to remember one.

There was one that seemed to work well for him before, and so he decided to try that one.

He remembers your voice clearly, guiding him through the steps.

It’s okay Varian, just calm down, and take some deep breaths.

He takes a few calming breaths, following his memory of you.

Now Varian, tell me 5 things you can see in this room.

Don’t worry about what they are, just five things.

Do you want me to go first?

He subconsciously nods, just like he did back then.

He hears you giggle, and for a second, he’s already calm, before he glances at his father.

Well let me see..

I see a.. Current Varian starts counting. 1. Dust bunny in the corner over there.

2. Your spare set of goggles.

3. The book stack on the table.

4. Those vials with that green stuff in them. It's called Chromium (Y/N).. Yeah whatever nerd, let's just keep going!

5. And that plate with a half eaten ham sandwich on it.

Varian can hear the memory of you laugh again.

Wow Varian, i thought you were supposed to love ham sandwiches, you always just gobble them up!

(Y/N) stop it! I just wasn’t hungry.. Okay Grumpy pants, I was just joking with you!

Well.. what comes next? Huh? Oh yeah!

Varian slowly comes back to the real world, wishing you were with him right now to help him again.

He thinks about the other things you told him, and starts from the beginning

“F-five things i can see..” he stammers.

“One, my lamp. Two, that puddle by my table. Three, That beaker of silver. Four, my apron hanging off the hook over the door. Five, the spill of Orthovanadate that I never cleaned up.”

Good job Varian! The next one is four things you can feel around you.

Remind me again what we are doing this for again (Y/N)?

Well it's just in case i’m not there for you and you need to calm down!

You-

You are going to be there for me all the time right?

I’ll do my best darling.

P-Promise?

I can’t promise that Var, but i’ll do my absolute best!

Something really bad would have to happen for me to ever not be with you okay V?

Please don’t say that (N/N), that’s scary…

Sorry Var, but i'll do my best to be there whenever i can for you.

Thanks.

Anything for my little Alchemy boy.

Varian snaps back, flinching.

He chuckled, thinking about how ironic it was that he made you make so many promises back then, and yet the very reason he was remembering this was because of a promise.

Her promise.

His nails dig further into the already bleeding wounds, and he hisses.

He shakes his head rapidly, and begins counting things he can feel.

“O-one, My goggles on my head. Two, the wind blowing through the cracks in the house. Three, The melting snow in my boots and Four…”

He looks around, and hisses when the bruises on his wrists from the castle guards rubbing against the wall next to him.

“And four, these goddamn bruises from Rapunzel’s guards.”

(Y/N)?

Yeah Var?

Uhm..

Can I guess what comes next?

Hey that’s a good idea!

Okay.. so we did 5 things you can see..

4 things you can feel..

So I'm going to guess next is 3 things you can hear?

Haha! You got it right Var!

I knew you were smart, dummy.

HEY-

Where’s your sense of humor darling?

I- i uh-

Under the bed.

Oh really then?

WAIT NO I DIDN’T-

HAHAH!!

Okay okay let's get on with it.

Three things you can hear. It will probably help if you shut your eyes to focus on sounds.

Okay.

Varian laughs, and then takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

“One… Chemicals bubbling, Two.. The wind rattling the doors hinges, trying to get in.

Three, Ruddiger pacing the floor.”

At the mention of his name, the raccoon bounds over to Varian, right as he opens his eyes, just in time to see a gray and white furball come tumbling into his arms.

Varian looks down at him, and gently cradles him to his chest.

“Oh Ruddiger, What do I do?” Varian sighs, and then laughs when he thinks about you calling him a “crazy raccoon boy”.

Varian? Are you-

Are you talking to Ruddiger?!

I KNEW IT!

Knew what?

I knew that you locking yourself alone in the basement with only Ruddiger and alchemy to keep you company would drive you crazy, but not THIS crazy!

Oh but (N/N), werent you talking to Ruddiger last night?~

Who- who told you that?

Ruddiger did~

RUDDIGER I THOUGHT WE PROMISED TO KEEP THAT TO OURSELVES-

I’m kidding!

but were you really talking to Ruddiger??

You're more crazy than I am!

Whatever, my Crazy raccoon boy.

(Y/N)!-

Ruddiger looks up at Varian, who has a sad smile, and chitters.

Varian shakes his head, and continues the calming method.

Can the smart boy guess what comes next?

Two things I can taste?

BZZZRT- WRONG!

Two things you can smell, then..

One thing I can taste?

Correct!

He takes a deep breath, and sniffs the air.

“One, I can smell chemicals, specifically sulfur, and Two, I can smell the- the blood from my nail marks.” Varian can feel himself getting dizzy at the smell of the last one, but he smacks himself and tries to avoid looking at his arms.

One more Var, okay? Try to remember all these, you never know when you might need them!

Can we go outside after this?

(He can remember you gasping at his comment) Why Varian? Did YOU just suggest going OUTSIDE?

Who are you, and what did you do to Varian?

I-ITS NOTHING!

I just figured you'd like to go outside instead of stay cooped up in here with me all the time…

Aww, how sweet Varian, but if you aren't comfortable going outside with me, I'll gladly stay here with you!

He smiles at your past consideration, and concentrates.

“One thing i can taste..” His eyes fly open.

“Ham Sandwiches!”

He takes a deep breath, and it's finally done.

He silently thanks you for the method, and thanks the gods that it worked.

Now that he thinks about it, he hadn't heard from you since the blizzard..

He really hoped you were okay..

He knows the blizzard is really bad, he did come back from asking Rapunzel for help…

Rapunzel…

She refused to help..

It’s her fault!

He shakes his head, knowing (Y/N) would hate to hear him thinking like that.

Speaking of (Y/N)..

His head jerks up when he hears the door upstairs open and wind blowing heavily.

He listens closely, and he can hear you calling his name while you struggle to get the door closed.

He jumps up and runs up the stairs, practically dropping Ruddiger and face planting.

He looks up from the floor, and gasps.

There you are, decked out in heavy insulated fur coats, there was snow all over you, he could barely even see the beautiful color of your hair.

Your lips were turning blue-

He shakes his head, banging it on the floor a couple times, why was he even looking at your lips?!

You looked down, and gasped as well.

“Varian? Why are you on the floor dear?” He sighs happily when he hears your voice, and opens his mouth to answer.

“You know what, don't answer that, come on, i'll help you up.” You walk over to him, gently grabbing his arms, and he hisses when you grab right where the nail marks are, and your hands brush the bruises on his wrist.

You set him gently in front of the fireplace, and grab his arms.

“Did you cut yourself with your nails again? I told you that you need to cut them..” you sigh, going to grab the things you need to clean his wounds and help with the bruising.

“How did you get these bruises?!” you ask, gently holding his wrists.

He responds, “Well I tried to get help from Rapunzel about my dad, but she wouldn't listen, and the guards dragged me away. By the way, (Y/N), thank you for that 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 method.” He weakly smiles, hoping that would calm you down, being able to see you get visibly angry the more he said about Rapunzel and her guards.

You sigh heavily, telling yourself Varian needed you more than you needed to beat up those guards. “I'm glad it helped dear.”

You bandaged his little crescent shaped wounds, and gently grabbed his wrist.

He looks at you in confusion, and you falter, before going along with your plan, and pull his wrists to your lips, and give them a gentle kiss.

You give him a closed eyes smile and respond to his surprised look, “Doesn't everyone say a kiss makes things better?”

He blushes, and pulls you into him, both of you tumbling to the floor before stopping.

You snuggle into his chest, mumbling something.

He looks down, still blushing. “What was that (N/N)?”

You back your head enough to speak cleary, and repeat yourself. “I need to beat up those gaurds later.”

He snickers, nodding, and wraps his arms tighter around you, ignoring his embarrassment, and more importantly, ignoring his pain.

You also wrap your arms around Varian, and after a couple minutes, he’s snoring.

You look at him, and run your fingers through his hair.

“Ill always be there for you Varian, Rapunzel be damned.” you nod off, both of you calmly sleeping, and dreaming of ways to save his father, his dreams much more sinister than yours, but both never once leaving each other sides.

#Varian x reader #Varian #fanfiction #tangled x reader

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amindofstone · 3 years

Text

let me hold you for a bit

{

a/n: And here we have another scenario I made up in my head before going to sleep just to make myself sad over basically something none existing. GREATTTTT!!! Anyways, while writing this I honestly got hella mad over the word swordsman. I googled it and found out that this is a neutral word and can be used for the male but also female gender. It's just like the word mankind. Like the fck?! Why is language so patriarchal?! I'm going to have a looooooong discussion with my professor about that... Anyways have fun and enjoy this little work of mine. ;)

Genre: anime image?

Character(s): Eustass "captain" Kid × Serena (reader)

Words: 2295

Spoiler(s): none

Info: For better reading keep in mind that the words in italic are either Kid's or readers train of thoughts. It is both written in italic but it is understandable on who's thoughts it is (Hopefully).

Warning(s): a bit of cursing and swearing, I guess. But nothing to be worried of. (+ grammatical or spelling mistakes since English is my third language and I'm still improving in every aspect. (Please have mercy on that))

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner @nan50ku (on Twitter). !!!

}

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

One and a half year ago he send his first mate to recruite her as a swordsman although some of his mates weren't really fond of his choice for a long time. So he took it upon himself to convince them to agree to his word. He might be the captain but he cherished his crew a lot although he never said nor really showed it because he is not the type of man who likes to openly show emotions since he considered it as weak.

So after a few days of long arguments between the stubborn captain and his first mate he was able to make him and his crew accept his decision to make the female fencer a part if their life and goal. Although the captain was really fond of her being the crew still took her presence on board with a lot of scepticism and caution since they barely knew anything about her. Not only took it the entire crew but also the woman itself a lot if time and patience to get used to their new environment. Lucky for her she was not the only female on board. There seemed to be another woman who was recruited by the pirates long ago. She however had nothing against her and welcomed her with open arms just like the captain who unlike her had more than just one reason to accept her with joy.

Days passed and she slowly started to open up more and socialise with the people on board more and more. Weeks passed and she laughed and fought side by side with them. Months passed and she shared memories of her childhood with the people off the Kid pirates and heared a few of theirs. But it was after a year with them when the woman Eustass Kid took in his crew with pure joy, told the people she grew fond of that her father was a important person at the revolutionary army and that she therefore was also a part of them. She thought that they might throw her out and get mad at her secrecy but nothing happened. In fact they were glad she told them something important as this. But most of all they were happy to see that the woman that kept quiet for so long opened up to them to this extent.

While they all thought nothing else of it and kept going as if nothing happened one person in particular seemed to grow angrier day by day. He locked himself up in his cabin or his workshop and only came out when it was necessary which got the crew worried more and more.

It was well known for his mates that their captain was a naturally reckless man but never over nothing. He was going mad at the most unnecessary and simple things. When they docked on islands Kid would usually celebrate, drink more and more. He wouldn't give a damn about anyone and would have a great time. But since he became quite temperamental and gloomy for no reason in particular he kept staying in his cabin. He would always give all of his crew mates a list of supplies and get back in his workshop and ignore his first mates question if he doesn't want to come out for a while. Even when he slammed the door shut behind him his first mate who was also his best friend would keep telling him that it was not okay for him to stop talking to his people. After all it was them that worked for him and respected him. But the only thing the blond man would get was a annoyed and angry "Fuck off!".

Now one and a half year later, after he recruited the female bold fencer, the crew would find him knocking on the door of her bedroom at least twice a week. And when she wouldn't be in her bedroom when he came he would simply enter and just wait for her inside, no matter how long it took her to come back to her room. Just like now.

Kid took a quick glance at the clock at the wall over her desk that was occupied by probably a dozen books for her researches. A smile spread over his red lips that turned into a small chuckle when he remembered how happy she got when he came back yesterday with a bunch of new books. When he told her that Killer included some novels to the already enormous pile of books they came back with her face light up. How can someone like reading that much. It's a waste of time when it's not informative. Kid who was sitting on her bed stood up and walked up to her desk and took a look at her notes of the task he gave her. With a little too much of a proud smile he leaned back and took her notebook in his hands and went through it to kill some time. Not long after, the door to the room he was sitting in was opened by its owner.

"Oh I'm sorry did you wait long?", a woman with two swords attached to her small waist entered with a genuine smile on her plum lips with the colour of a deep pink. "Not at all. I was going through your notes and I'm am surprised how much informations you found out in such a short period. It really was a good idea to get you to be a part of my crew.", said the red haired man without looking up from the book in his hands. He was taking his time reading because he didn't wanted to leave so soon. He wanted to have a reason to stay in her room with her without anyone else. He wanted her to himself all alone. But he never dared and will never dare to say it out loud.

He came to her again just like any other time since months now with the hope of her coming and sitting on his lap on her own. He wanted her to hold his face in her small and tender hands while caressing his cheeks in the painful slow pace she always did. He wanted to bury his face on her neck and breath in her scent that got him addicted. He felt small, he felt weak, he felt stupid when she was around. Because he knew that he was helplessly in love with a woman that was to good for him and would probably leave as soon as the no. 2 of the revolutionary army would order her over. The thought of a man that could get her to any place in the world got him angrier than necessary.

Kid pushed everything aside. All of his emotions and the need to hold her just to lean on her desk and take a pen and paper and work on her notes. Focus and ignore her you fool. He told himself off and tried his best to bury his need to take a look at her in the deepest corner of his heart. So it came that he was now working on her notes while every now and than asking her what she meant with a specific note or if the information that was given to her is trustworthy or not. A hour passed and Serena took a shower and changed into a pair of shorts and an oversized sweater she recently purchased. She was sitting in her bed and read a novel when she let out a quiet yawn. She put her book on her nightstand and got under her blanket just to realise that she wasn't alone. Her green orbs fell upon her captain that was silently doing her work. When was the last time he had eight hours of sleep? Can't he relax for a bit? Every time I see him he is either in his workshop or on sea. "Kid? Aren't to going to sleep or at least rest for a bit?"

A soft and gentle voice replaced the calm silence and made the red haired man's heart race while his body turned warm. He felt like he had a fever and was about to collapse when he heard the bed behind him shift. He didn't move a bit or said anything until he felt her soft hands on his shoulders. "You should go to bed. Rest a bit. You need a healthy dose of sleep and resting otherwise you won't be able to fight properly, you know?"

Kid said nothing. He didn't reply to her or move. "Kid? You alright?", and again he didn't gave a answer but closed his eyes and turned around just to sit her down on his lap. "Stay. Stay like that for a while. I know that you want me to leave and I will do so but for now just stay like that and let me hold you for a bit."

The usually loud and aggressive captain was holding onto the female fencer like a child while his face was buried between her shoulder and neck. The feared captain was slowly breathing in her scent and letting out a hardly audible whimper. But Serena heard it what made her shiver slightly out of shook. She carefully placed her hands on his face and made him look in her eyes but the stubborn man refused to do so. He kept his eyes closed and his jaw clenched out of anger towards himself. What the actual fuck am I doing?! What is wrong with me? Why is my fucking heart racing?! GOD, stop it!! The captains cheeks were softly caressed by the woman he sat on his lap. While doing so she waited for him to hopefully open his eyes and allow her a look into his onyx black eyes. She didn't want to push him to something he didn't wanted so she kept quiet and gave him time to relax. While doing so she place her forehead against his and hummed a soft melody that seemed familiar to the captain of the worst generation but he couldn't quite get why it was so familiar and comforting.

Still not opening his eyes Kid spoke in a low and quiet voice "Would you mind me sleeping next to you for tonight?", a smile grew on Serenas lips and made a chuckle follow. "How come you are able to speak so nice and so.. I don’t know... gentleman like? No, thats not it. Let's just say it was really really nice and respectfully said.", said the green eyed woman while leading him to her bed and tugging him in. "Don't make me regret my word choice. I can go back to cursing and insulting you in any minute, woman."

The laughter of Serena filled the comforting silence that lingered in the room. A laughter that made the heart of the man laying at the right of the bed jump in joy. "And there we have our rude captain back. I kinda missed your rudeness around me. It's kinda entertaining and funny. I mostly like to see you and Killer fight with him always stating facts and you just yelling around a bunch of angry - No's- like a child.", with a smile upon her lips she made a little fun of the man she loved to have close to her. She liked spending time with him. She loved it when he came to her to complain about a failed plan of his or that of his first mate. She really appreciated when he searched for her whenever he needed to calm down and get away form his responsibilities as the captain. And everytime she would drop anything and anyone just to give him all of her attention as long as she could help. But everytime she did so the tall and muscular man wondered why she acted that way towards him because he knew that he wasn't someone easy-going.

"You're really annoying. Everytime I come to see you, you make me regret it.", Kid rolled his eyes to show his annoyance to support his point while still wearing a tiny friendly smile on. Serena laid down and pulled her blanket up to her shoulder right before she placed a hand under her pillow and her other hand lovingly on her captains cheek. Kid closed his eyes and did exactly what he asked her for. Sleeping and laying next to her with the hope of being able to suppress his need to hold her tightly in his arms and to calm his racing heart. But sadly she only knew about his wish of just being allowed to sleep next to her. Carefully she went through his hair to help him sleep when he took her wrist and held her back from making any other move. "Woman, your annoying. Let me sleep in peace."

Serena was hurt and felt her heart aching more than any other day but she said nothing else beside apologising and taking her hand back. "Good night cap."

She slowly turned around with now her back facing the sleepy big figure of the man beside her. Out of all the men around the world her heart chose to love him. A reckless and unpredictable man. A man that does not hesitate to kill and destroy when he wanted or needed to. She, a woman with a loving and sweet personality. A woman who probably could marry a king or a Prince ended up loving a pirate, a criminal hated and feared by any person with a sense of sanity. I should have stayed with my father and never accepted this mission Sabo gave me. A tear fell down her cheek when she heard the man, who owned her heart and soul without even knowing, lightly snore.

And just like that another night passes for the two lovesick pirates without them knowing that their feelings were actually returned.

#anime imagines #anime scenarios #op imagine #one piece imagine #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid imagine #kid pirates #captain trio #captain kid #one piece #anime x reader #eustass kid x you

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knockknockchicagopd · 4 years

Text

A SERIE WITH HANK VOIGHT. CHAPTER I.

❚❙ WORDS: about 1.3k

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted. — The parts of this writing in italic are situations in the past.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl .

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

“OFFICER SHOT! Repeat, we have an officer shot! I need an ambulance and backup in Hyde Park boulevard with Kenwood avenue!”

Your eyes are lost somewhere over the gleaming tiles, sitting on the floor with your back against the white wall and your legs curled to your chest. With your arms resting on your knees, you're putting away your shaky hands covered in your partner's blood from your view field. It has been almost forty five minutes since you arrived at the hospital, holding her hand from the ambulance to the inside of the surgery.

“Stay with me Lucy, please… Don't close your eyes… Look at me… Look at me, please”.

You couldn't barely breathe, pressing your hands over her chest, trying to stop the wound from bleeding. The bullet trespassed her vest, you didn't even see that guy coming. When you heard the shot, it was too late to push her away.

Three years patrolling the 21st District. Three years living together. Three years of memories that, now, are being played like an old black and white movie in front of your crystal eyes. You can't even think about catching her killer, trying to assimilate that you are not going to hear her voice anymore; nor to spend your free nights watching movies at home or drinking beers at Molly's, nor to complain about the senior cops who always ask you for coffee as if you were their secretaries.

“Lis—Listen… I will let you wear my red dress, okay? But you have to be strong… please… I can't lose you, Lucy. You are my family”.

She closed her eyes when your hand loose hers, coming into the surgery. Will stopped you at the entrance putting his hands on your shoulders.

“We'll do our best, I promise”.

But the bullet punctured an artery close to her heart and no one in the hospital could do anything for her life.

You don't even hear the heavy and fast strides coming closer to you. You only notice his presence, when he cups your wet cheeks between his palms. The contrast of his cold hands touching your warm skin makes you shudder, causing you to break into a bitter cry again uncontrollably. Hank embraces you tightly, helping you to stand up over the black military boots, guiding you to the closest bathroom.

Putting your hands under the tap as the water starts to run, he washes off the dry blood of Lucy, after pressing her chest until the sanitary came. Your eyelids are strongly closed, barely breathing and feeling your life escaping away from you with every tear shed. And you only open them again when he speaks.

“Look at me, sweetheart… We will find him, you hear me? And I, personally, will make him pay”.

His hands land on both sides of your neck, using his thumbs to lift up your face, urging you to look at him. You believe in his words. Of course you do. You do trust him with your life. Briefly nodding, Hank wraps your waist and your back with both arms, to hug you trying to comfort you somehow.

You have been sitting now in the locker room for almost thirty minutes, finding yourself anxiously breathing when you hear some knocks on the door. Cleaning your tears with the back of your trembling fingers, you take a deep breath still assimilating what has happened two hour ago. Licking your lips and withdrawing the salty taste of your tears impregnated on, you stand over your feet to grab your backpack and step outside. As soon as you reach the hall of the police station, everyone there becomes quiet. Every pair of eyes laid on you, leaving your badge and your service gun over the desk.

Platt doesn't know what to say, being aware that I'm sorry doesn't fix anything. She has decided to give you some days off to rest, but the real reason is that you aren't allowed to be part of this investigation.

“I know it's too soon, but do you think you can give us your testim—”.

“Not now!”

The hoarse and angry voice appearing from the stairs at your right earns all the attention. Voight is walking straight to you, taking your bag from your hand to place his free arm on your shoulder. If looks could kill, Platt would be already dead.

“Let's go for a ride, hm?”

Your eyes continue glued to your badge being grabbed by the inspector, to keep it under the desk. Your chin moves from the top down in a soft nod, letting him turn you around to come out from the police station to the private parking. His SUV is stationed close to the fence, opening the copilot seat door for you before going to the truck to keep your stuff, Hank hurry up on abandoning the place. You can't be there. You don't need it.

At first, he thinks about taking you to your house, but seeing you so broken he knows that you shouldn't be alone. Lucy was all your family, since your parents moved to Arizona; everything you had is your job and your friends. The man doesn't ask you, thinking that the best is to bring you to a quiet place. The loading bay. Where he goes after a hard day to clear his mind. Hank needs your testimony to catch the murder, but he needs you first to be focused, to be calmed.

Stepping out from the car, after turning off the engine, you follow him by inertia. Raising your eyes from your feet, the imposing city of Chicago stands in front of you. Red, blue and white small lights all around the jungle of buildings, captivating you instantly.

“(Y/N)...”

“I told her that I was hungry… I didn't take anything for lunch and we were close to Brandon's pizzeria… I… I made her stop… It was my fa—fault”.

The tears fill up again your reddened eyes. The anxiety is oppressing your throat. The lack of air is suffocating you. Hank doesn't let you blame yourself, welcoming into his arms without hesitating.

“I need to know how he looked to catch him”. After some second in silence, with your face hidden into the crock of his neck, he has to continue the talk.

Pulling yourself away, making the biggest effort of your whole life, you nod in the meantime that he cleans your cheek using his fingers.

“He came from… nowhere. I don't know… I don't know if he was… wa—waiting inside a shop, or… if he crossed the road. I don't know… He was wearing a black hoodie… and, uh… a pair of worn jeans. Blue… That kind of blue only Levis produces. And a… A pair of sneakers. Nike Air Force One. They were too clean, too white, too shiny to have more than… one month. Maybe a couple of weeks”.

You're trying to give him the most minimal detail, so it could help him to trap him sooner.

“His face was co—covered by a bandana. Black. But… But it had some white ornaments… I don't remember them. He was far away and they were too small… I'm so—I'm sorry, Hank… I don't remem—”.

“It's okay, it's okay, sweetheart. You have given me more than I could find myself”. His encouraging words make you feel somewhat better. “I will call Antonio to tell him, so they can start to work”.

You're sure that now he has your testimony, he will take you to your house. But you can't. You don't want to go. You don't want to be alone. Stopping him by grabbing his forearm covered by the leather jacket, you close your fingers tightly around it.

“I don't wanna go home”. You whisper with a fine thread of trembling voice.

Coming back on his tracks, Hank places his free hand on your nape to lean forward and press his lips on your forehead. Two long seconds that feels like an eternity.

“I got you, (Y/N)”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#hank voight x reader #hank voight imagine #hank voight #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #chicago pd #one chicago

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evandearest · 4 years

Text

The Garden of Eden | Part III: Hidden Darkness

Pairing: James March x reader (you) | ~Part: (3/4)~

Summary (Part Three): Sometimes, even when things seem to be at their best, hidden truths can seep through the cracks. Sometimes, it can ruin relationships, but other times, it can make them. What will happen when you and James find that everything is not what it seems? They say opposites attract, but how far can that really go? The truth is a magnet, but the question still remains: will it bring you together, or force you apart?

Warnings (in this part): drunk person (briefly), anxiety, twisted morals / religion bending, murder / blood, lying, sexual scenes (no real smut)

Word Count: 4,723 (OMG lol)

Notes: Can we just pretend I didn’t mess up the location of the backstory? I just have no idea how to change it in the story now. I didn’t remember that James was from New York until just recently as I’ve been re-watching Hotel. Let’s just say that for the sake of this story, James moved from New York to L.A. at a much younger age for some reason lol. I’m so sorry for messing that up, it bothers me so much! Ugh. In this part, I decided to give a peek into James’ point of view a little bit. :) Also, the sections in italics are flashbacks if you are ever confused. This one gets pretty twisted as far as morals go. lol. Also, this is the longest part so far... and I’m impatient to get this posted because I’m so excited, so I apologize if there are any errors. Without further a-do... let the show begin. :) Enjoy!

(p.s. let me know if you ever have any questions/comments about the story, I love feedback!)

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

Something had been going on with James. As much as it might not seem to some, you were smarter than you looked. You were attentive; you watched the people around you. You cared about those kinds of things. Some would call it trust issues, but you call it surviving. Through all you’d been through, being vigilant was the one thing that had seemed to keep you going.

It’d been the best month you’d ever had. Everything had seemed to fall into place; you and James’ relationship had been stronger than ever. Everyone had seemingly accepted it, too, which surprised you greatly. You had figured that many people would criticize you, but if there was one thing you had learned, it would be that people didn’t question James. You loved that. Not having to answer people’s critiques and being respected was a feeling you’d never known, and it was a feeling that you definitely got used to quickly. You didn’t even have to worry about people questioning you, because if they did, James was quick to take care of it. However, you had noticed an odd pattern: any person that said something rude to you seemed to vanish.

For example, today. You had been sitting at the bar, minding your own business while sipping a fruity cocktail, when a man with whiskey breath approached you. He was stumbling, slurring, spitting, and frankly you had quickly become uncomfortable. So you’d politely and discreetly moved seats in an attempt to get away from him, which ended up failing. Plan B had been to excuse yourself to the bathroom. When you returned merely five minutes later, the man had vanished. While it wasn’t strange for drunk men to wander off, it was strange for drunk men to get very far within a few minutes. You’d walked around the main hallways of the hotel in search for him, but he was nowhere to be found. And this hadn’t been the first time this had happened. You were beginning to get suspicious.

You wouldn’t have suspected him in the first place if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d caught him in some peculiar situations.

It was late. The clock on the side table read 2:00 A.M. when you heard the door to the room open and close. Even in your sleepy haze, you’d managed to catch sight of a black figure. You’d slipped out of bed not soon after, your silk robe dragging on the floor behind you as you made your way out of your room. You gently closed the door behind you, quietly padding down the hall. As you rounded the corner, you caught sight of a familiar suit-clad back at the end of the hall. Just as you were about to call out, you heard a faint moaning in pain, silencing you. You swerved around, on a mission to hide your body behind the corner so as to just observe, when that familiar voice called out to you.

“Y/N?”

You turned around slowly, smiling softly at James from across the hall. You yawned, furrowing your eyebrows together in confusion.

“James?” you asked, your voice cracking from having just woken up. He smiled, although you could read the nervousness all over him. What was he doing? He slowly crossed the hallway down to you, his hands reaching forward to grab both of yours.

“Why are you awake, darling? It’s nearing two,” he asked worriedly, reaching up to gently brush your cheek with his knuckles. You paused, staring at him in confusion.

“Just having some strange dreams,” you said, averting your eyes to look over his shoulder for a second. “Did you hear that noise?”

“W-what noise, dear?” he tried to recover from his stutter quickly, but you didn’t fail to notice it. You paused once again, studying his handsome features. He wasn’t lying to you, was he?

“Nothing...” you trailed off, lost in thought, before letting out a breathy laugh. “I must just be tired, darling. Are you alright?” James shoulders dropped visibly, a toothy grin forming on his face.

“Of course,” he said, before placing a kiss onto your forehead. “You need rest up, dear. We wouldn’t want anything happening to your pretty little head.” You genuinely smiled at that. He was very sweet; although you did have a strange feeling about his behavior. You couldn’t describe it, it was more intuitive than certain, but you just couldn’t deny or brush it off.

“What about you?” you asked him, reaching over to squeeze his hand in a loving manner. “Aren't you coming to bed?” James raised his eyebrows, quickly shaking his head.

“No, no, dear, I’m afraid not,” he sighed, smiling at you sadly. “I have quite a lot of paperwork to catch up on, and I’m afraid I won’t rest until it’s done.”

“Okay, just don’t overwork yourself darling,” you said and sighed while looking at him pointedly. You then leaned up to place a chaste kiss against his lips. “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight dearest,” he whispered, and you turned and made your way to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, turning to place your ear against the door for a moment. You swore that you could hear a faint groaning again. You shook your head at yourself, telling yourself it was all in your mind before settling back into bed.

Ever since that night, a week ago, you’d been suspicious. You just had an innate feeling that you certainly were not just hearing things that night. And based on the way James was acting, he knew you weren’t either. He’d been distant, staying up late every single night. He’d go to bed with you at first, only to get up and leave in the middle of the night at such unearthly hours you could hardly believe the clock. You tried to dismiss it the best you could, but it was getting harder to ignore.

So as soon as you had woken up today, you decided to talk with him about it. You’d thought a lot about just asking him, spouse to spouse. It was James, after all. You knew he wouldn’t get mad at you, by all means, but you just felt like he didn’t want to tell you for whatever reason. It was driving you mad.

-🤍-

“James?” your soft voice called out, startling James from his paperwork. He glanced up, his eyes landing on your frame as you stood in the doorway of his office. You were clad only in your silky robe and slippers, your hair still slightly disheveled from having just gotten out of bed. He was surprised, for it wasn’t often that he would see you in such a state. You would normally make yourself up before coming to see him in the mornings, as he generally got up earlier than you. It wasn’t a problem to him, though. In fact, he would never admit it, but he secretly adored you like this. You looked even more vulnerably pure than normal. That’s what James admired about you the most: your ability to remain such a source of light and hope; your maintaining of innocence when surrounded by darkness. No matter what you went through, you always seemed to find a way to come out shining. His beacon of hope.

He stared at your figure, taking a mental picture to forever remember this moment. He never wanted this to end. Even the thought that he was the only one that would ever get to see you in such a state excited him. Just the sight of you lit up his entire being in a way he didn’t even know was possible until he met you. He couldn’t help but think back to the time when he first realized how much you had impacted his life; how you’d made him fall apart in the best way imaginable. A particular day flooded his thoughts.

You stared at him with your doe eyes as he looked away from you. Even from his peripheral vision, he felt it. Just the thought of you sent a jolt to his heart. When he’d seen his father above you, he’d felt a rage so accumulative it felt as if he might implode on himself. But then all you’d asked him was a simple question, and yet he had no idea how to respond. How was he supposed to tell you that he thought his own abusive father was right? He couldn’t even swallow the fact that he agreed with his father, let alone tell you, the one who always managed to keep him from succumbing to the darkness. If it weren’t for you, he didn’t think he would have a real purpose to strive for.

He simply couldn’t tell you that everyone with whom you’d ever spoken to was probably using you for something other than a nice conversation. He’d met your family; and although they seemed picture-perfect, he knew their true intentions behind closed doors. He’d met the people of Los Angeles; he knew how they worked. It was all money and entitlement. They had planned to ship you off to a rich husband since you had been born.

He wanted to tear them apart. He wanted to do unspeakable things for the simple pleasure and satisfaction he’d get from it. You were the one who separated him from this unspeakably dark craving for blood that he felt. He’d known it even then; if you had somehow gotten taken from him, he wouldn’t stop himself any longer. He’d be lost in his darkness forever, and he would never find the light again.

“James?” you spoke again, and James snapped back to reality at the sound of your voice. He smiled at you, setting his pen down to give you his full attention.

“My my,” he said cheekily, “to what do I owe the pleasure?” You stood in your tracks for a moment, a slight pink coloring your cheeks as you pulled your robe tighter around you.

“I’ve come to ask you a question,” you said, deciding to just put it out there. James smile fell from his face at your serious demeanor, concerned curiosity clouding his features.

“Yes?” he asked, his accent drawing out the word in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You sighed, gathering your thoughts for a moment.

“Well, I’ve just been wondering recently,” you said, slowly making your way over to sit in the chair in front of his desk. “It’s not an extremely important thing, I just...” You trailed off, your words getting caught in your throat, lost in translation from your head as you stared at James.

“Darling, you can tell me anything,” James reassured, resting his hands together on the desk in front of him as he leaned forward slightly. You sighed once more, averting your eyes from his. You took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’d like to know where you’ve been going these last few nights, James,” you said, your voice filled with unintentional shakiness. You didn’t mean for all of your emotions to come out that way.

James faltered, the small smile on his face wiped away at your question. He didn’t know how to respond at first, his mind going through all of the possible excuses he could make. There was no way that he could ever tell you what he was actually doing. He feared your reaction too much.

“Darling,” James said, putting as much charm in his tone as he could. “I’ve already told you how behind I’ve been on paperwork.” You met his eyes once more, disbelief clear in your orbs. His own eyes widened slightly at your clear observance of his dishonesties. He didn’t anticipate that you wouldn’t believe him. Perhaps he’d underestimated your perceptive ability to catch liars.

He knew then that he’d have to tread carefully from here; he’d have to weigh his options. He couldn’t tell you the truth--for he feared the result. But genuinely lying to you? He knew, then, that that would only push you away. Lies were like bricks; they built and built and built until eventually a wedge formed. He didn’t want a wall with you. He didn’t want to ruin the only true connection he’d ever had.

It was ironic, how just moments before you’d asked, he’d been consumed with memories of the one other instance in which you forced him to answer to something he couldn’t. He never expected he’d be in this situation again. Yet here you were, once again, presenting to him a question in which he could not answer truthfully.

He didn’t want to take that look in your eyes away. He couldn’t. He couldn’t imagine what would happen to those eyes. Those eyes that had been his source of comfort for so long. He’d seen your shock when he killed your husband, but he’d gotten lucky. That was someone who had directly affected you; the man who had ruined your life. You had already wanted him gone. He didn’t want to imagine what you would think about him participating in a hobby in which taking life was the sport. He didn’t want to steal your light away by consuming you in his darkness. He feared the imbalance would destroy the life you’d just rebuilt together. What if he was too different now? What if his embrace of darkness repelled your light away?

“James,” you said softly, suddenly much closer to him. Your hands gently cupped his jaw as you stood directly in front of him. He blinked in confusion at his failure to notice your movement from one side of the desk to the other. He looked up at you questioningly.

James had been so lost in thought that it had frightened you slightly. You couldn’t help but notice how tired he looked. You shamed yourself for not thinking that he could just be stressed. James had a very hard job; he managed a new Los Angeles hotel that was constantly bustling with people of all kinds. You were obviously reading too much into it, and you realized that now. Sometimes you just couldn’t stop your anxieties caused by your last marriage, as much as you tried to. You cursed yourself for not thinking of him in all of this. You quickly enveloped the man into your arms, holding him in a comforting embrace.

“I understand,” you whispered softly. “I get that work can be overwhelming. I just wish you’d let me help rather than overworking yourself.” James sighed, his shoulders relaxing instantly. You smiled; your comfort was working.

“You are completely correct as always, darling,” James replied, pulling you to sit in his lap comfortably. “And I am terribly sorry for not spending the nights with you. My wish is not to make you feel lonely.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You laid your head on his shoulder, cuddling into him.

“It’s okay, James,” you said sweetly. “I know how hard you work. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” James gently brushed your hair away from your face.

“You truly are the most accommodating, dear,” James said lovingly. “What would I do without you?” Your grin felt splitting. Talking to James was the best decision you’d ever made.

You spent a few minutes just sitting there cuddled into James as he continued his work, basking in the warmth and love you felt from him. Your moment was interrupted when the door to his office opened abruptly.

“Mr. March,” a voice called, in which you recognized as Miss Evers. “Sorry to interrupt-” She paused when her eyes landed on you and James, her expression falling slightly. “I’m sorry, are you busy?” She asked, her eyes seeming to burn holes through you. You tightened your grip around James’ neck slightly. You didn’t like the way that she was looking at you.

“What does it look like?” James barked in response, visibly annoyed. Your eyes widened at his harsh tone as his hand gripped your waist tighter. Miss Evers grimaced.

“Well, you see,” she started hesitantly, “you have a delivery for floor seven.” James’ grip loosened at her words, his expression changing to one of understanding. You sat up, pulling away from James slightly.

“I see,” he said to her before looking to you. “Darling, I’m afraid that I have some business to attend to.” You nodded and stood from his lap, walking with him as you both made your way out of the room and to the elevator.

“Well, I am going to get freshened up,” you smiled at James, planting a kiss on his cheek before you got off onto your floor. He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it in return, smiling at you charmingly. You briefly glanced at Miss Evers again, your mood faltering once again at her steely glare. You didn’t understand why she was glaring at you, but it was beginning to worry you. You looked back at James, catching one last glance at his charming grin before the elevator doors closed.

-🤍-

Many hours had passed and you hadn’t seen James since the morning. It was half past five o’clock when you began to worry about his absence. You’d expected him to be kept busy with his work for most of the day, but it was unusual to have not heard from him by five P.M. It’s not that you were always worried about him, it’s just that you knew him. He was very adamant about your nightly dinners at six.

Usually he always sent Miss Evers to remind you around five, but you hadn’t heard a peep the entire day, aside from the morning. You had a sneaking suspicion that the woman held some type of grudge against you. She always spoke to you in curt language, and occasionally she’d give rudely blunt comments, but it was only when you were one on one. You had noticed how her behavior changed around James. It was like she was constantly trying to impress the man. It made sense, as he was her boss, but sometimes it really got under your skin in a way you didn’t like. You didn’t want to hold a grudge against the woman; truly, she seemed quite lovely. You just didn’t understand what she held against you to treat you in such a way.

So, needless to say, despite not hearing from the maid, you’d prepared yourself like normal anyway. You knew James wouldn’t forget dinner, it just wasn’t like him. After you made yourself up, you headed out to your normal dining room to meet James. You were surprised to arrive to an empty table, however. You had been wrong. James did forget. You were genuinely surprised. You stood in your tracks, wracking your brain to figure out where he may be. You decided the best place to start would probably be the most obvious place, his office.

Upon arriving at the floor, you immediately felt that something was off. The entire floor seemed vacant. You walked timidly down the dark hallway, your eyes scanning around you warily. It had seemed like a maze of dark passages, leading on and on in silence, until finally you heard a semblance of life. It sounded like a shuffling at first, until you were close enough to the door of his office that you could hear a noise that almost sounded like sawing. Your curiosity spiraled, and ultimately, it won over the wariness you felt.

When the door opened wide enough for you to see, your eyes first landed on James’ back, taking in his rapid movement. His arm pumped backward and forward, his body driving the force to drive a saw through bone. Dark red coated his shirt, as well as the floor and area surrounding, and at first glance you could’ve sworn that the carpet was just regularly that color. You only briefly got to watch his movement, because it was as if he sensed your presence unconsciously, even as quiet as you had been. James eyes met yours, and he seemed to have frozen in space and time. He simply stared for a few seconds, before he dropped the saw and faced you.

“Darling, I--,” he started, choking over his words in shock. Your eyes took in the scene once more, the bloody corpse hard to ignore. A few moments of silence passed between you.

“James,” you said breathily. Your feet shuffled forward until you were standing only a few feet in front of him. Your smaller hand grabbed his larger one, feeling his rough callouses against your soft palm. “Is this what you’ve been keeping from me?” His eyes met yours and you saw the answer in them. You were right.

It all made sense to you now. All that time he’d been gone, he’d been here. It was obvious to you now why he didn’t want to tell you what he had been doing.

“You’re not...” he trailed off for a moment, his eyebrows raised uncertainly. “Afraid of me?” he finished. Your mouth opened in shock at the fact that you hadn’t realized what he had presumed your reaction to this would be. He thought this would scare you off. He thought that you would see this as a negative thing. He thought you’d think he was a crazy murderer just like all other common people would.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

You stared at him in disbelief. He expected you to fear him, to run away from the violence simply for it being violence; to hide from real reason. Did he not think that you would see the truth behind this? The truth being that he’d built an empire from the ground off of ash and dust. He’d climbed up the chain of players until he was at the very top, crowned king. Not to mention that all while doing so, he’d profited majorly, but not only that... he’d became a true god.

You understood now. Being a god wasn’t about riches or the simple power of being respected... it was a service. A service of repenting sin in the truest way possible: punishment. James had been chosen; picked out from the crowd for his vision of truth, for his undying ability to see men for what they were: sinners. Men were first placed on Earth just for the simplest sin of knowledge--and any act after knowledge might as well be considered evil. From then the men of the world raised generation after generation of sinners: users, abusers, liars. You and James had been included in that crowd. You’d both been raised to sin, but you knew now that you were special, for you had been enlightened. You were not ignorant like the most. You saw the true darkness in the world, and understood that it needed to be handled. You were chosen.

You stared at James, a newfound admiration for him arising. He really was special, and yet he couldn’t even completely see it. You didn’t understand how anyone could be so blind so as to not see the utter power he withheld in the palm of his hands. His hands, in which were the epitome of jurisdiction. They were judge, jury, and executioner, and every life they took served a god’s purpose. They offered utter release of darkness for all those chosen by him, freeing them from their evil natures. Other people might see danger in James, but all you saw was glory. That, you thought, was the misconception of death. Many viewed it as a robbery, but it wasn’t that. It was a true freedom, a release of all sins, and those who did not see that were clouded by their selfish desires and greediness. It was an act of nature. An act of God.

You smiled at James, squeezing his hand, before leaning forward to place your forehead against his.

“No,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips. “No, I’m not afraid. There’s nothing to fear... murder isn’t always evil like most think, especially if it’s a service. James, you aren’t a sinner for releasing others from their sins... James, you are a god...”

James froze in his place, a shiver running up his spine. Usually, he resented religion. But the way you had explained it sparked something entirely different within him. He felt an electricity run through his entire body, igniting his veins in a way no drug ever could. His arms wrapped around you, quickly pulling you flush against him.

No one had ever said something so logical to him. He’d run into many people who preached religion and he despised every one of them. His thoughts were like yours: they were all sinners anyway, so how could they support a holy God? It was hypocritic, and James hated every one of them for it. It was the entire reason that he’d started his new project to mimic on the Bible’s Ten Commandments. However he’d never talked to you about religion, for he knew you’d grown up in a church and generally avoided the enraging subject. But you’d given him a new perspective with your words. He was a god. He held all the power that men reserved just for their one and only God in his hands. He could take any life if he wanted to, with nothing stopping him. He’d realized his power before, but he’d never thought of himself in that way. All those men praying to their god while at his knees might as well be praying to him. When he took a life, he released that person from evil. He held the true power.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. He and you had always seemed like polar opposites. That’s part of what he thought was so attractive about you. But it was much more than that. Of course it was. He and you were more similar than he’d ever thought. You completed his image, and he expanded off of yours. Your perspective put a whole new sense to the world that he’d never known. You were light, and he was dark, but together... you were something entirely different. He’d thought that he had had everything figured out perfectly, but oh how wrong he had been. You explained it in a way that he never could have thought of himself. His Y/N... you were so much more than he had ever really known. That mystery excited him undeniably.

His hands gripped your waist tightly as his lips crashed into yours. You gasped into the kiss, for you’d never, in all your time together, received such passion from James. He kissed you almost bruisingly, pouring every ounce of his being into it. His arms left your sides and before you knew it, he was hoisting you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. You clung to him tightly, kissing back just as fiercely as you felt the tension between the two of you build. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat as he carried you across the room, too caught up in him to see where you were going.

He set you down and pinned you against the wall, rattling the table next to you. His arms were like a cage around you. A loud shattering was the only thing to interrupt you, breaking your kiss as you both turned to see the vase that was on the table now on the floor. The glass was scattered everywhere, the white roses it withheld strewn out across the floor as the water spread. You both stood staring at the vase for a few moments before you wrapped your arms around James’ neck again.

“Leave it,” you whispered, pressing your fingers into his back as you tugged him close once more. Your lips met again, just as intense as before, before he began his journey to kissing your neck. You panted, a sheen of sweat already glistening on your skin and he’d barely done anything. “James,” you pleaded, “I need you.”

James pulled away smirking, his hands traveling down your sides slowly.

“Oh darling, you have a long night ahead of you.”

A long night it was indeed, eventually moved from that spot and into the bedroom, the vase and roses left broken but undisturbed.

---

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 5

Chapter: 5/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches. “If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.” “Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair. Note: The cake is a lie metaphor

It's my job to be cleaning up this mess And that's enough reason to go for me It's my job to be better than the rest And that makes a day for me

Janus awoke to the sensation of something poking the underside of his wrist and a deep conviction that it was going to be one of those days. Mild pain in his wrist aside (what was that?), a sticky sense of malaise clung to his skin like saltwater and pressed into him harder than his blankets ever could.

Janus opened his eyes. Remus had evidently tucked him in, because he was under his blankets with his arms crossed over his chest like a corpse. He was still wearing the onesie and his gloves, and his hat rested on the nightstand beside him. Janus examined his right wrist and found that Remus had slipped a folded piece of paper into his glove, the corner of which was poking Janus in the wrist.

Adjusting his pillows as he went, Janus sat up and pulled the paper out of the glove.

There once was a Snake with a fast wit

Who fell for a Side with dad habits

Poor Janus was sprung

And hoped Patton was hung

So they could make love like two rabbits

"I'm going to kill him," Janus said evenly. He kept his wits about him when disposing of this new poem, merely flicking his wrist and sending it up like flash paper. It disappeared in one satisfying flare of white.

Janus nodded once and hauled himself out of bed. He didn't like that he'd fallen asleep in the common room not once, but twice now. It wasn't his style. He was the puppetmaster, the Lord of the Lies, the doorkeeper who dressed like an 1870s oil baron and took his coffee black like his soul. He didn't fall asleep on the couch.

At least it had been Remus to take him to bed. Janus wasn't sure what he'd do if he woke up in Patton's arms.

It didn't matter. Janus could rehabilitate his reputation today while he lounged around until he felt better. First of all, he had to get this accursed parrot onesie off.

As much as it pained him, he changed right back into his usual outfit. The stiff starched cotton was never the most comfortable even on the best of days, but today it chafed irritably against his skin.

He would have preferred a nice set of fleece-lined pajamas, but his fragile pride simply wouldn't let him go out like that. Not when he had already displayed such weakness in front of the others.

He slunk out of his bedroom and down the hallway in stocking feet, walking toe-heel to muffle the sound of his footsteps.

Logan gave him a curt nod from the couch as he passed; Janus tipped his hat in reply.

He passed the dining room table and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He had been aiming for the coffee pot, but stopped short at the sight of Patton seated on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees. It was the same position he had been in the night Janus found him in front of his door, and it made Janus go hot with worry.

Janus stared. Patton's shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, slow and even. He wasn't crying, then. Janus coughed into his fist.

Patton looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Oh, hey, Janus," he said like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to curl up on the kitchen floor on the verge of tears.

"Good morning," Janus said, going for the coffee maker for the sake of having something to do with his hands. "Please try to convince me you aren't upset about anything."

"It's nothing," Patton said.

Janus was more than content to leave it at that, since he didn't care about Patton's feelings. He poured ground coffee into the filter and shoved it into place with a little more force than was strictly necessary. His eyes fell on Patton when he turned to fill the coffee pot at the sink. Patton, with his shining eyes and quivering lip.

Fuck.

Janus poured the water from the coffee pot into the reservoir, slid the coffee pot into place, gently pressed the button. He stared at the coffee maker until the first drops fell into the coffee pot, tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. It would be so easy to just turn around and go back to the living room. He could even drop a hint and send Logan in. So why couldn't Janus move?

Oh, he knew why.

He set his jaw and turned around, staring down at Patton. "I'm great at consoling people," he said in a voice that came out wrong, all accusatory and angry.

"You don't have to," Patton said, not meeting his gaze. "It's not your job."

"No, I-- That's not what--" Excellent. Janus just loved getting tongue-tied like some flustered adolescent would-be Romeo. Good thing he wasn't defined by his silver tongue. "Feel free to jump in here."

"I don't want to tell you," Patton said in a low voice. "I don't want to make it your problem."

"Like I won't get it out of you one way or another." Janus sat down and crossed his legs, the better to look Patton in the eye without looming over him. Behind him, the coffee maker hissed and gurgled.

"I miss Roman and Virgil, that's all. I'm worried about them."

"I'm sorry I asked."

It was meant to be a joke, but Patton only looked more anguished. "I'm sorry! It's not your job to-- I don't want to make you feel like I blame you for what happened…"

Janus braced himself. "But…?"

"But nothing," Patton said. "I'm sorry; I know I'm being silly."

Ugh. Janus remembered the stab of guilt that had struck him when he'd realized that he might have hurt Remus. How panicked he felt at the idea that Remus might be angry with him. The fear in knowing that Remus' anger would be justified. A nauseating wave of empathy hit Janus with the force of a speeding semi-truck striking a pixelated frog. "Patton, you don't blame yourself do you?"

"I don't know." Patton's voice nearly cracked. He swallowed hard and looked, beseeching, at Janus. "I'm the one who… You know." He waved a hand, presumably to indicate 'morphed into a giant frog-man and tried to kill Thomas and his friends.'

Janus stood at a crossroads. Telling Patton it wasn't his fault would be tantamount to admitting his own guilt.

And hadn't he pushed Patton to the breaking point? Hadn't he aligned the pieces on the chess board? Hadn't he-- His head spun and his stomach dropped. Hadn't he puppeted Roman on his makeshift stage and cast him aside when he was no longer needed? Hadn't he?

But then again. Hadn't it been worth it? Janus would take all the turmoil of the past few days a thousand times over if it meant Thomas would listen to him . Janus had done what he'd had to do, and it had been a net gain for him.

Janus stood at a crossroads, and he walked straight between them, kicking up dust and rocks beneath his feet.

"It was an accident," he said to Patton. "Sometimes, things just happen and it's nobody's fault."

"I guess," Patton said, though he didn't look all that convinced. "You're probably right. You're usually right. You're really smart, Janus."

Janus waited for the other shoe to drop: some insult about his character or choices, but nothing came. Patton tilted his head. "Thank you," Janus choked.

He stood and wheeled around to face the coffee maker but nearly lost his balance and had to clutch the countertop for support. He would keep it to one cup of coffee today and spend the rest of the day hydrating and, more importantly, not having hard emotional conversations with people who made him want to re-examine his entire moral compass.

Not that Patton made him-- Oh, who was Janus kidding? Janus would walk one thousand miles through the desert on his knees if Patton asked him to.

So long as he could complain about it the whole time.

"I'm waffle-y sorry for being such a downer," Patton said. "Want me to make you breakfast?"

Janus stared at the drip-drip of the coffee as it fell into the pot. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Cook. It seems like a lot of work when you could just…" Janus snapped his fingers.

Patton either chose not to point out Janus' hypocrisy in brewing coffee or, more likely, didn't think to mention it. "Well, honestly, I like the work," he said. "It feels personal and… Well, it feels like love ."

Janus swallowed hard. "Oh," was all he could think to say. He stared at his warped reflection in the half-filled coffee pot.

"So," Patton said. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Janus lurched forward, putting more of his weight into his hands where they connected with the edge of the counter, and let his head hang. What was wrong with him? Words circled his head in a whirlwind and evaded all his attempts to string them together into complete thoughts.

“Janus?” Patton prompted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine ,” Janus snapped, acting on pure instinct. He turned around and forced himself to look Patton in the eye. “Sorry.” The word felt foreign and uncomfortable in his dry mouth. “Yes, Patton. I would appreciate it very much if you made me breakfast.”

Patton took this behavioral change in stride, perhaps even with a knowing look in his eye. Janus realized with a creeping sense of unease that Virgil had probably been equally skittish when he’d made the move from Dark to Light. But Patton didn’t comment on Janus' disgusting predictability. He only smiled and said, “Great! Do you like blueberry pancakes?”

Janus didn’t, not really, nor was he particularly hungry. Janus said, “Yes” and forced himself to smile.

“Perfect." Patton half-turned away before turning back to Janus. “Oh, yeah! Logan said he had something he wanted to ask you.”

Janus manifested a coffee mug onto the counter (the same black and yellow ouroboros one that Patton had visualized for him) and reached for the coffee pot. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No!” Patton yelped. “I’d actually really like it if you stayed in here with me. Not that I can’t be alone with my thoughts! Because I can and I’m fine. But you’re still kind of an unknown and that scares me and I’d like to get to know you better-- Oh, gosh, um, not that you scare me! I don’t think you’re scary. Unless you want me to think you’re scary? I know Virgil kind of had a whole complex about that. N-not that I think you and Virgil are necessarily anything alike!”

Someday, Janus was going to let Patton keep going just to see how deep he would dig himself. But today was not that day. Today, Janus wanted to sit down and take care of this exhaustion before it turned into something worse. “Patton, relax.”

“I’m relaxed!” Patton said, his shoulders hiked up nearly to his ears.

“I was just teasing you.”

“I knew that.” Patton flushed and pushed his glasses up. “Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Already forgotten.” Janus smiled, actually smiled to reassure Patton that he wasn’t angry. Because he didn’t want Patton to be scared of him. Pain bored into the back of Janus’ skull like a railroad spike propelled by dynamite. Two aspirin jumped into his hand before he even realized he had summoned then. He swallowed them with a mouthful of piping hot coffee and only just managed not to cough.

“You okay?” Patton asked.

A thousand sarcastic misdirections died on Janus’ lips. “Just a headache.”

Patton nodded.

For a moment, they stared at each other with eyes locked. It was Janus who turned away, covering his face under the pretense of swiping his hair out of his eyes. “I’d better go see what Logan wants.”

He fled the warmth and earnestness of Patton’s presence and the trenchant blade of his own desire. When he reached the living room, he forced himself to calm down and took a seat in one of the recliners that stood perpendicular to the couch so he could face Logan. “You had a question for me?”

Logan vanished the book he was reading before Janus could get a good look at the cover. Damn, that could have provided useful insight into Logan's interests. “More of a request for information, to be perfectly clear," Logan said. "I’m interested in Remus.”

“Well,” Janus said, seizing the opportunity for a bit of fun, “I’m not so sure he feels the same way about you, but I suppose I could make an inquiry.”

Logan kept his face blank but Janus could tell from the way his irises twitched and his cheeks darkened that he had understood the joke and was choosing not to acknowledge it. “I’m sorry; I should have been more clear. What I meant is that I am interested to know more about Remus as an individual. A ‘person,’ if you will.”

“I will.” Logan raised an eyebrow and drew the corners of his mouth down in an expression of tense irritation. “You don’t like being teased,” Janus said out loud.

“I don’t find it conducive to productive conversation, no.”

“Well, far be it from me to want to impede scientific advancement.” Janus touched his fingertips to his chest. “Did you have any specific questions about Remus?”

“Yes.” Logan leaned in, a new spark in his eyes. “I was curious about his behavior last night. He was only interested in staying when he felt that he wasn’t wanted-- When he was considered ‘intrusive.”

“Yes.”

“Is that behavior inherent or learned?”

Janus thought for a moment. Logan didn’t like sarcasm. He didn’t want to be teased. So Janus steeled himself and told the truth. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”

Logan nodded, head bowed in disappointment. “I had feared you might say that. In that case, Janus, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Janus tried not to wince. He was tired. He really wasn’t in the mood to navigate the potential minefield of Remus as a topic of conversation. On the other hand, he could use all the favor he could get for the inevitable moment that Roman and Virgil emerged and protested his newfound position in the Light. Logan could be a strong ally in that conflict. “Oh? Let’s hear it.” He settled back in his chair and stared at Logan over the top of his coffee mug. At least the headache had receded a little, now only flaring up when he turned his head too fast.

“I am more than happy to speak to Remus directly. In fact, I would prefer it. However, last night demonstrated that Remus is unwilling to engage in social situations where his presence is desired. His rapport with you suggested that this may not always be the case. So I drew the tentative conclusion that you may be able to act as liaison between Remus and me until he feels comfortable conversing with me directly, assuming that time does come. If he really doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force the matter.”

Janus took what Logan had said and distilled it to its core: “You want me to arrange a meeting between you and Remus.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Anytime soon?”

“Logically speaking, there’s no hurry,” Logan said, his face neutral. Too neutral.

Janus considered this. “You’re excited,” he said, a smile growing on his face. Ugh, he was excited that Logan was excited. Since when did he care about Logan’s personal growth?

Logan swallowed hard, the line of his jaw sharp and tense. “...Yes,” he said finally. “I am excited. And I don’t wish to impose, but I would prefer you spoke to him sooner rather than later.”

Really, what Janus said next was selfish. “I’ll talk to him today.” It was selfish because it was for his own benefit. Really. If he was responsive to Logan’s desires then Logan would view him in a more favorable light and be more likely to defend him against Roman and Virgil when the time came. That was all. Janus didn’t care about the happiness of pawns and puppets.

Yet still his chest filled with inexplicable warmth and light when Logan smiled (yes, smiled) and said, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches.

“If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.”

“Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair.

Logan stared at him, eyes calculating. “You may do yourself harm if you hold that position for very long. Ergonomically speaking, the best position for optimal back health is reclining.”

“If you’re going to insist…” Janus scooted back up and pulled the handle, holding up his coffee so it didn’t spill as the chair shifted.

Logan tilted his head. “I wasn’t insisting. I gave you information so you could make an informed decision about how you wanted to sit.”

“...Thanks.” Janus took a long drink of coffee, thought for a moment, and manifested a book that he thought might catch Logan’s attention. He made a show of finding his place in it, and sure enough, Logan shifted like he wanted to say something. Janus looked at him over the top of the gilded hardback copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra; the most audacious thing he could think of in the moment. He had to balance it with one hand, as the other was still holding his coffee mug, and the spine dug painfully into his leg. He looked at Logan and raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Logan shook his head to indicate he had nothing to say. He summoned his own book, the one he had been reading earlier and, with a look of faux innocence that ill-suited him, turned the cover toward Janus just long enough for him to observe that it was an old chemistry textbook before laying it open on his lap.

Janus sniffed and turned the page in Thus Spoke Zarathustra , not at all embarrassed at having been caught out.

Breakfast meant facing Patton again, which meant dizzy butterflies in Janus' stomach. At least Logan was there, and his presence helped mitigate whatever sinister magic powers Patton had that made Janus go all warm and soft and giddy in his presence.

Janus cut his pancakes into smaller and smaller pieces and drank orange juice like his life depended on it while Patton and Logan revisited an old argument about whether Thomas should adopt a puppy (or several).

They left Janus out of it, which he appreciated for once. Today, he was more than happy to half-listen and dismember his pancakes. It was easier to eat when Patton wasn’t paying attention to him, anyway; the nervous nausea receded like the tide in the absence of the moon of Patton’s focus.

When Janus had downed his fourth glass of orange juice and realized he was bored, he forced himself to tune into Patton and Logan’s argument so he could find a place to strike and excuse himself. There were other, more aggressive ways to command attention, but he wasn’t in the mood to raise his voice or ‘accidentally’ drop his fork, so he waited with his hands folded in his lap.

And waited.

Finally, he abandoned propriety and interrupted. “Do you plan to finish anytime soon or do you intend to hold me hostage here all morning?”

“Oh, sorry, champ.” Patton turned to him, eyes wide and beseeching. “We usually all just talk over each other.”

"Oh, please do call me that again."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. Can't you tell?"

"Sorry, Janus." Patton smiled. "Don't worry, though! I'll find a nickname you like."

"Anything's better than 'reptilian rapscallion,' I guess," Janus muttered. "Anyway. I have business to attend to."

"Okay!" Patton said cheerily. "But one of these days it's gonna be your turn to wash the dishes!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out. They could have that argument another day.

He found Remus in the living room making a Jenga tower out of chicken bones.

"Business or pleasure?" Janus asked, trying not to sway into the coffee table. It was hard to tell with Remus.

"You drunk?" Remus asked, placing another chicken bone on the tower.

"Hammered," Janus said. He perched himself gingerly on the arm of the couch, though what he really wanted was to collapse with his head in Remus' lap. In any case, a little flattery was in order. "I got your limerick."

"And?"

"It was horrifying, thank you. I burned it."

Remus nodded his approval. "So did you miss me or what?"

"I need a favor."

"From me?" Remus puffed out his cheeks. "Who pissed you off? I haven't heard Roman's dulcet declarations from yonder curtain yet."

"I thought we'd moved past Shakespearean sonnets."

"Sorry, Snakespeare." Remus shrugged. "Some habits are hard to break."

"Mmph." Janus rested his elbow on his knee and his forehead in his palm. He just had to finish up here and then he could have the rest of the day off.

"Sooo who do I need to threaten and/or maim?" Remus asked.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut. "Actually, there's no violence involved. It's a real favor, Remus."

"Well, now you have my attention." Remus shifted on the couch, the beads of his shirt rattling. "Are you dying? You have to tell me if you're dying. And let me watch. And dissect your body. And use your skull as a goblet. Ooh, and--"

"I'm tired." Janus lifted his head and came nose-to-nose with Remus, who was peering at him with his eyes opened as wide as they could go. "And I need you to talk to Logan."

"Oh, yeah? Ol' Tight Ass getting on your nerves? Need me to scare him a little?"

Janus pressed his forehead into Remus'. "No."

"Ooh, you're warm."

Janus tugged at his collar. "It's not like I'm wearing layers or anything."

"So why do I have to hang out with All Time Lo?"

Janus usually cloaked his dealings with Remus in a few layers of reverse psychology and the occasional double entendre for good measure. Today, he just said, "Please."

Remus frowned and drew back. "You're sure you're not dying? Pope John Patton III isn't slowly poisoning you, is he?"

"He doesn't have the guts," Janus said. Remus' eyes lit up so he quickly added, "And I don't want to see yours."

"Aww."

"And if you really want to know… Logan wants to talk to you. As a person."

"And what does this have to do with you?"

Janus sighed and finally gave into his desire to flop over onto the couch. He ended up splayed over Remus' lap with his limbs twisted at uncomfortable angles, but couldn't be bothered to right himself. "Logan asked me to ask you because he rightfully guessed that you wouldn't respond to a direct invitation because you have a complex about showing up where you're not wanted unless I'm involved."

"And you said yes because …?"

"You're right, it's not like me at all to want to have something over someone else." No use showing his whole hand unless he absolutely had to.

"Do you like it over there?' Remus asked. "Is it better than…" He waved his hands.

If Janus owed any side honesty, it was Remus. So he sighed and made an effort to speak plainly; no filibusters about the subjective nature of 'better' and 'worse,' no cryptic half-answers. "I want it for you, Remus. It's tense and it's uncomfortable, but this half-acceptance feels more like home than you could ever conceive of from the shadows. It is better. But it won't be enough until you're there, too."

"Jesus, Janus." Remus fake-gagged a few times. "They're turning you into one softboiled snake." But he shifted and gently arranged Janus' head in his lap, placing Janus' hat on his own head. He ran his fingers through Janus' hair and smoothed his bangs out of his face. Like Janus, Remus preferred to disguise his intentions, usually with irony and shock value. They understood each other in that regard. But now, Remus spoke in calmer tones, and lowered his voice. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"If you really do have a thing for Patton--"

"I don't--"

"If you did. I really do hope it works out for you. And I know… There's a change involved with crossing over--"

"I won't--"

Remus placed his hand over Janus' mouth. "I just hope it works out for you, that's all. And I'll talk to Logan. Since you asked."

Janus knew better than to lick Remus' hand. Instead, he kissed it.

"Ew!" Remus yanked his hand back and made a show of wiping it off on his pants. "Save your love and affection for the Guilt Trip Tour Guide." He grabbed Janus by the shoulders and sat him up, placing his hat back on his head. "Now where's Logan?"

"You're doing it now?" Janus coated his disappointment in a veneer of skepticism; he could have easily fallen asleep in Remus' lap if Remus had held still for a few minutes longer.

"Might as well rip the Band-Aid off," Remus said. "And a few layers of skin, too. Did you know that your top layer of skin is called the horny layer?"

"Charming," Janus said.

"I aim to please," Remus said. He stood and did a little shimmy.

"Guaranteed to satisfy," Janus agreed.

Remus sank out, leaving Janus alone on the couch. He forced himself to get up before he fell asleep, and walked over to the curtain to listen for a few seconds. There was no sound of screaming, no sound of Remus cackling in fiendish delight, so Janus had to assume that everything was going smoothly.

He sank out and chose to manifest back in the Light Sides' living room. Now he could relax, because he certainly wasn't worried about how Remus' interaction with Logan would go.

"Hi, Janus!" Patton said, springing up from the floor.

If Janus had been startled by this, he would have jumped and gasped, but since he wasn't, he remained still. His heart rattled against his ribcage until he could feel it in his stomach. He took in a breath so deep it made his lungs ache and sat down on the couch. "Patton."

"What are you up to?"

"...Training for the Olympic canoe slalom."

Patton blinked. "So you have time to talk?"

"I suppose…" Janus said, trying to telegraph his irritation without making Patton think that Janus was mad at him. It was a delicate operation, and Janus must have erred too far on the side of caution, because Patton's smile never faltered for a moment. "Great."

He sat down next to Janus, and the inches between their bodies pierced Janus' heart like a deadly insult. But he knew better than anyone that it took more than desire to breach a gap. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Of course not!" Patton said. "I'm not-- I mean, I don't think I-- Oh. You're teasing."

"Good of you to notice."

"Um, anyway. I wanted to, um… I wanted…"

"Take your time. I've got all day." Though he played it off as such, the yawn that Janus stifled behind his hand wasn't fake.

"I want to talk about philosophy with you!" Patton said all in one breath.

"Oh," Janus said. He studied the back of one gloved hand. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We can start small."

"I take it you had something in mind?"

Patton nodded vigorously. "Ends and means."

Janus swallowed. "Well," he said, feeling for all the world like he had just walked into a trap. "By all means, start us off."

"Um," said Patton. "Well. Um." He cleared his throat. "Ah."

"Fascinating. Go on?"

"I'm trying to think of an example that doesn't involve," Patton dropped his voice to a whisper, "murder."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Okay, I don't know, let's say I had this really awesome recipe for strawberry shortcake. And, uh, Logan was trying to make one from scratch for Ro-- For your birthday."

"Mmhm." Janus raised the corners of his lips in what was supposed to be an encouraging smile while he feverishly tried to figure out where Patton was going with this. Preferably before Patton got there, so he could steer the conversation as needed.

"And say Logan was making a real mess of it, and I knew you would be disappointed to receive a not-so-good cake for your birthday. So I go into the kitchen and try to nicely hint that Logan should use my recipe, but he's not having it. Now, I really want you to have a nice birthday cake, so I finally snap and tell Logan that he's no good at baking and he needs to listen to me. And he gets upset and doesn't come to your birthday party, but I make you an awesome strawberry shortcake and you really enjoy it. And all the guests have a wonderful time, even though a few of them really miss Logan and wish he was there."

"Ah, yes," said Janus. "Rousseau's famous strawberry shortcake thought experiment." He rubbed his thumb across his temple a few times. The sooner he helped Patton get to his point, the sooner he could finally relax. "What's the question?"

"Since everybody at the party was happy, including you, the birthday boy, did the ends justify the means?"

Janus squinted, but Patton's face was the very picture of innocence. "It's Logan's fault," he said slowly, "for letting his emotions cloud the bigger picture. If he had just listened to you in the first place , no one would be upset."

"So the ends justified the means because the result was good?"

"Sure. You knew that your plan was the better one."

"So you could say that I was entitled to behave in a way that hurt Logan? Because I knew better than he did?"

"That's what I said," Janus snapped. He took a deep breath through his nose. Patton was behaving with picture-perfect decorum, so Janus had no need to lash out like a cornered animal. "I'm saying Logan shouldn't be hurt. He should think for 3 seconds and realize that he was standing in the way of the greater good."

"But he is hurt," Patton said. "I hurt him. There's no 'should' about it."

"What do you think, then?"

"Obviously I think I should apologize to Logan!" Patton said. "I had no right to hurt him like that."

"So you don't think there's any end result that would have justified those means."

"That's right," Patton said, nodding so hard that his glasses slid to the tip of his nose. "Being mean is a bad means. And maybe someone smarter than me has already said it in better words, but I don't think anyone has the right to hurt another person, no matter what the end goal is. Um, e-especially over something as small as cake."

Janus' first choice of response to this was a new thought experiment involving murder. But that felt a little mean-spirited, even for him and oh, the ends of winning a debate against Patton wouldn't have justified the means of playing dirty to do so. Janus buried his face in his hands. "What if you didn't care about Logan?" he murmured into his gloved palms. Pain pulsed through his head.

"What?" Patton said.

Janus moved his hands so only his mouth was uncovered. "What if you didn't care about Logan? What if you thought he was a pompous ass whose only relevance to you was as an obstacle between you and making a really awesome cake ?"

"My answer hasn't changed," Patton said. "And it's not going to."

"What if you explained yourself and Logan humiliated you in front of everyone ?" Janus used his fingertips to apply pressure to his browbone, but the pain only increased.

"His wrong wouldn't negate my wrong," Patton said gently. He rested his hand on Janus' knee.

Fireworks exploded behind Janus' eyelids. Why did it have to be Patton ? And why did Patton have to be right? He'd even gone to the trouble of presenting his point in Janus' preferred terms, even if his debate skills left something to be desired. "You can go ahead and give me the lecture if you want," Janus mumbled. Shame burned bright and hot inside him and flames danced along the seams of his clothing, pinpricks of irritation on his skin.

"Janus, look at me." Patton's thumb rubbed small circles on Janus' knee.

Janus dropped his hands. The light flashed into his eyes and made him flinch. "Go ahead."

"I don't want to lecture you," Patton said. "I mean, a part of me does. But I realize now that I can't just do that. The only authority I have over you is the authority you want to give me, and I have a feeling that's not much."

Janus scoffed. "You'd be surprised." He looked at Patton's hand and clenched his own into two fists. "I'll… I'll think about apologizing to Roman. I'm getting good at it, these days."

Patton jerked his head up and something seemed to click for him, an unasked question answered. "You apologized to Logan."

Janus nodded, but no happiness touched his heart at the look of approval in Patton's eyes. He just felt shaky and sick and very, very tired. "I didn't mean to, but…"

"You realized you'd hurt him?"

"It helps that he didn't mock me to my face." A particularly intense wave of pain flashed from the base of Janus' skull to his temples and he winced. On impulse, he dug his fingers into the side of his head just beneath the brim of his hat. It didn't help.

"Does your head still hurt?" Patton asked.

Janus nodded. No sense lying now, not about something as petty as this, and especially not now that Patton had a floodlight on him. If Janus was playing 4D chess, he was doing so on the 20 yard line of Patton's football field and he kept. getting. tackled. "It's getting worse."

"Do you usually get headaches like this?"

"No."

"Well," Patton patted Janus' knee and withdrew his hand. "It's been a stressful few days."

Janus blinked, staring at the spot where Patton's hand had been. His thoughts came slow and syrupy.

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

Janus struggled to keep his eyes open. The gentle honey-toned lights of the living room might as well have been high wattage LEDs beamed straight into his retinas. He blinked away tears. "I'm sorry." Patton gave him a sad smile. Janus continued, brushing away a tear that clung stubbornly to his upper lashes. "I pushed you to your breaking point on purpose. I used you. I-- I tried to push you down for the sake of pulling myself up." Pain flashed through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. "I don't even know if I'm doing this right," he admitted. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but… Hurting you got me what I wanted."

"Hey, kid-- Janus, I think you'd better call it a day," Patton said. There was a nervous edge to his voice that Janus didn't have the mental bandwidth to try to decipher. "Try to sleep off that headache, okay? We can talk about this later."

The pain was so all-consuming, so violent in its demands for Janus' full attention that he wasn't even capable of defending his pride. A vague, hollow shame made its home in his chest. He stood, joints protesting, but Patton stopped him before he could sink out.

"You don't have to go."

Janus nodded and sank back down onto the couch, slowly, so Patton had time to stand up and get out of his way. It made sense. It wasn't like Patton was going to stroke his hair and share his warmth just because Janus wanted it.

Even if he asked.

Patton said something that Janus didn't quite make out before he slipped into unawareness.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #patton sanders #janus sanders #spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: it's my job - jimmy buffett

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one-spidey-boii · 5 years

Text

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch. two

read chapter one here

masterlist

an; welcome back y’all. thank you to all who have read so far, even tho it’s only chapter two. i’d love to hear your feedback! enjoy!

**italics indicates flashback**

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), future smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 2.2k+

edie's pov

so that's spiderman? seems like a fun guy, i think as i walk through the dark alleyways so i don’t draw unwanted attention to myself. it's late and i'm navigating my way home, still thinking about my run-in with the red and blue clad boy. it's easy to tell he's young by the sound of his voice, leading me to believe he’s twenty at most. that doesn't bother me of course, as i too am considered young for a crime-fighting vigilante.

i turn the last corner before reaching my street and sigh with relief at the sight of my apartment building. the light in my window is off, aiding in the illusion that i'm asleep so my mom doesn't come in while i'm away on my semi-nightly adventures. just before i can touch the brick stones of my building as i pass by, a mechanical swoosh comes down and picks me up off the ground. i let out a small yelp and quickly find myself placed on the roof.

"hey, wolfie." mr. stark says as he walks out of his iron man suit. i let out the breath i was holding and turn around to face him. i offer him a small smile and take my hood down.

"mr. stark, hello, sir."

"school's almost out, right?" before i can answer, he keeps talking, "good. i'm gonna need your help with something."

i wipe away the beads of sweat running down my forehead as i bend down to pick up my throwing knives from the concrete ground. i steady myself and focus on the tattered piece of cardboard nailed to the wall that is my makeshift target. with a small grunt, i fling one towards the center of the red dot, hitting it dead on. i continue this activity until i run out of things to throw and my arms feel like jelly. i lost count of how many times i'd hit the center of the target in a row.

stepping back with a satisfied smirk, i collect my knives, shoving them back into their rightful place in my bag or around my waist and turn on my heel to head home. i manage to take two steps before a voice stops me in my tracks.

"hey, don't walk away now, kid, the next one would have been fifty." my eyes widen at the familiar voice that often appears on my living room television. i slowly move to face the man and gulp, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, not being able to say a word.

"come on, one more. show me what you got." says tony stark, with a loose smile on his face.

without a word, i force my trembling hands to grab my favorite knife from my right boot and brace myself for a throw. my breathing is shaky as i raise my right arm and inhale along with it. i can feel the sweat running down my back as i close my eyes for a moment. don't embarrass yourself, e, i think to myself. with that i snap my eyes open and silently chuck the knife towards the target.

i missed.

"oh for fuck's sake." i groan into my hands before i remember who i'm with and freeze. i keep my head in my hands, making sure to cover my face, only gathering enough courage to peek at tony stark through my fingers.

"well, that's awkward, i won't lie," he says, looking uncomfortable, "but i think i saw what i needed to see beforehand. i'm tony stark, or iron man if you wanna get fancy." he reaches a hand out in my direction.

"edie wolfe, hi." i reply with a defeated and lame handshake. to save both of us from looming silence, he pulls at my hoodie before continuing on, "okay, ms. wolfe." he pauses to inspect my attire, "what is this? leggings? and a hoodie? kid, if you're gonna be throwing knives, you gotta expect people to throw them back at you. this isn't going to cut it." he motions to the thin fabric covering my arms and chest.

i laugh at his words, "oh hey i see what you did there."

not catching on to his own pun, he moves on again, "what? actually never mind, we have a lot of talking to do, wolfie."

ever since that night, he took me under his wing- and a week later i got a package with a brand new suit in it. one that would protect me a whole lot more than what i was working with before.

"earth to wolfie, beep beep boop," mr. stark says as he pokes me in the forehead. i swat his hand away and give him my full attention. he continues on, "so you're in? a summer at the compound, being scary and keeping bad guys away?"

i raise an eyebrow at him, "what makes you think my family will be okay with that?" i ask. mr. stark simply rolls his eyes, "i already talked to your father, need i show you the proof?" i shake my head and he nods with satisfaction.

"okay, kid. see you in a few days." he says, preparing to get back into his suit, but before he can fly away i stop him, a question looming over my head, "am i doing this alone?"

"of course not. i wouldn't leave you alon- well actually i can't leave him alone so that's why you're gonna be there," he explains with a shake of his head.

"and who exactly is this person?" i ask with my arms crossed.

"how about one friendly neighborhood spiderman!" he yells and takes off before i can say anything back.

finally, the last day of school was upon us. it seems that the ending of every school year is bittersweet, and to be honest it hasn't quite hit me yet. senior year was way lamer than everyone played it off to be. you're told that you're officially ‘top dog', but let's be real- no real credit is given until you've graduated. but hey, here's to making it this far.

i'm sitting at my usual lunch table, surrounded by peter, ned, and mj. we pass jokes around the group and take in every moment we have left of our time together, yanno, since peter is leaving. but so am i. which is something i still have to share with everyone.

"uh, hey, guys. can i be a debby downer for a moment?" i ask, clearing my throat and disturbing the light mood of the afternoon. the table quiets down and all eyes are on me. "so you know how peter is leaving this summer?" i ruffle peter's hair in an attempt to not make that statement so sad.

"yeah, edie, we know." mj says with an eye roll as she picks at her cold french fries. i roll my eyes back at her and mock her voice. i can't help but notice peter's guilty face sitting next to me, little does he know i am going to make it a whole lot more weird up in here.

i take in a big breath and hold it to up the anticipation, "well it looks like i'll be gone too."

ned drops his chicken wrap and shakes his head furiously, "nuh uh, nope. no way. sorry, e, i can't allow that to happen," he says with a stern voice. peter chooses this moment to negatively highlight my new confession, "edie, how dare you! someone needs to be here to look after the kids."

i lower my head in shame, god this was so hard to do. faking a playful smile, i try to make light of the situation, "hey, c'mon, we all know mj is the mom friend of the group."

mj shakes her head violently and protests against my statement, "absolutely not. i veto that with all of my being, ned is the mom." she insists as she points to the pouting boy. we all laugh at that before falling into an uncomfortable silence. i glance in peter's direction and try to smile at him. doing this to him was the hardest, i tell him everything and knowing full well that i can't tell anyone about my stay at the compound, it just hurts my heart. we won't be able to communicate all summer.

"my mom signed me up to be a camp counselor...at, uh, a self-defense camp." i panic at the last second, realizing i never thought about what kind of camp i would fictitiously be a part of. the whole table bursts out into laughter.

through short breaths and a hearty laugh, ned pokes fun at me, "edie? teaching children how to kick someone's ass? look at you, you're like a soft pillowy little marshmallow." i stick my tongue out at him and cross my arms.

"hey, i wouldn't shut down the idea too fast, remember e's dad is like, an actual fbi agent. i'm sure he's taught her some stuff," peter chimes in, coming to my rescue. i nod along and hum a 'mhm', snickering inside at how much they don't know.

once i'm home, i pack my suitcase with all the things i think one would need to stay at a high tech superhero compound. i grab all of my knives and shove them into a utility pack, along with my suit.

my parents know where i'm going, and lucky for me they’re okay with it. well, at least my dad is.

my father, sam wolfe, works for a hidden branch of the fbi that trains government spies and the occasional assassin. thus being the reason i grew to be so good at combat. he would take me onto the roof of our building and have me shoot at targets and hit punching bags. we would practice for hours at a time, his booming voice critiquing my every move and decision as i worked. i've never been comfortable with a gun, so i stuck with knives and made that my craft.

i haven't seen my dad in a few months now. to 'protect' me and my family, we weren't allowed to know where my dad was going or why he had to leave in the first place. once mr. stark came into my life, he and my father became close, putting his trust in mr. stark to watch out for me whenever he was gone.

my mother on the other hand, she hates everything about it. she’s afraid of the world and all the things that lurk behind closed doors. when dad isn't around, we aren't allowed to talk about anything related to knives or fighting or tony stark. and for my nine-year-old brother's sake, i oblige.

pulling my bag onto my shoulder and lugging my suitcase through the hall, i meet my mother and brother in the living room. she meets my eyes with her cloudy ones and closes the distance between us with a strong hug. i chuckle at her before wrapping my arms around her plump frame.

"mom, it's okay-" i start, before she cuts me off, "shhh, edie. let me have this moment."

i shut up and continue to embrace my mom. i know this is hard for her, but she needs to understand that this is an amazing opportunity for me. i'm being put in charge of the avengers compound for the entire summer. i wish i could share this excitement with my dad, but i know he's happy for me, wherever he may be.

"edie, promise me you'll come home if you can't handle it. no one is going to judge you for that. you're only eighteen. i can't believe your father is letting you do this." my mother rambles as she pulls away from me. i smile at her and just nod my head.

my little brother looks over in our direction with a shy smile on his face. i ruffle his hair and pull him to me for a quick hug, "take care of mom for me, booger." i whisper into his ear. he gives me a simple nod and backs away.

my phone buzzes in my pocket. i pull it out to see a message from mr. stark.

'beep beep, i'm here'

i sigh and look up at my mom one last time, "that's my ride." she lets a single tear stroll down her cheek before wiping it away and shooing me out the door.

once out of the apartment, i lug my suitcase down the three flights of stairs and out onto the sidewalk. mr. stark is pulled up to the curb in his fancy black car. he rolls down the passenger side window and yells at me through it, "time to party, wolfie."

i stroll to the car and pull the back door open to throw my stuff down. then i hop into the front seat and look at mr. stark, "you know, you could have come in."

"yeah, well we all know your mother doesn't like me very much. i don't wanna poke the bear," he says as he pulls his sunglasses over his eyes and revs the engine, "let's get you to your new home for the next three months, shall we?"

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines

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chrysolina · 6 years

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Unprepared

Ask - Can you please write a chris evans imagine when the condom breaks, and the reader ends up pregnant. And she’s not happy while chris is over the moon about it. And they kinda get into an argument - anon

Thanks for the great ask anon, I’m so sorry I changed it up a little bit still, here it is!! Hope you enjoy ((:

Summary - You had always been so careful when having sex with Chris, the prospect of being a mom always scared you lifeless. So how will everything turn out when you forget to use contraception and fall pregnant with Chris’ baby?

Word count - 3k ish (flashbacks are in italics)

Warnings - SMUT at the beginning (again +18 readers pls), crying, anxiety mentioned, bad childhood mentioned, floof, heartwarming shiit (:

M A S T E R L I S T

A quiet and deep slumber had set around the neighbourhood that was settled deep in one of the boroughs of Boston. You didn't care to know about this tranquility outside as you slept peacefully in the strong arms of your boyfriend of four years, Chris Evans.

Face resting beside his chest and his arms warming you like a human blanket, nothing could wake you from your sleep - not even Chris could wake you from your dreamful slumber.

That, however, was just what he wanted to do. He took a quick glance at your alarm clock and sighed in defeat. Being awake at 3:45am with a raging boner from a hot and heavy dream he had wasn't ideal for Chris, nor was the fact that the subject of his dreams was attached to him like a magnet to a fridge.

Chris had to do something about this, his balls were screaming with release and needed to be freed from his boxers now. He thought good and hard about his decision, he could get up to go to the toilet to find his release but you were right there before him in one of his shirts, your pussy tantalisingly close to his boner and with nothing else on underneath - how could he deny himself of some earth shattering sex with the hottest woman around?

'Fuck it.' Chris decided on what to do and began to slowly rub his straining erection up and down the inside of your thigh.

Much to Chris' delight, your brows furrowed ever so slightly and you mewled at the friction on your leg. Truth, you were also having an increasingly hot and heavy dream with your one and only. You thought this was a joke; Chris rubbing his erection up against you as you two hugged and waited for a cab outside a restaurant in Boston was just ridiculous but when your eyes fluttered open to find his hips grinding on your own - you knew this was real.

"Chris.." you mumbled out with a slight moan when his erection touched your heat. "What are you doin—mmfh" lips were on suddenly yours, silencing you in a flash. You caved in and pulled him closer to you, his erection nestled under your dripping pussy. Without much thought, the covers were pulled away and Chris lazily rolled you on top of him, shimmied his boxers off in the process; allowing his heavy, pulsation dick to spring up and hit your lower stomach with a smack.

"This," Chris smirked devilishly and positioned his tip at your lips, his length tearing you open inch by inch.

———

You didn't know where this had all come from. Maybe you had eaten something bad at work? Or maybe you had a stomach bug after eating all those spring rolls from the Chinese the other night, yes that must've been it.

In your mind, there was no reason you should be throwing up the contents of your stomach every several hours..or become more fatigued than usual or be more hormonal than usual.

Before you could think of anything else, you locked the bathroom door and rummaged feverishly through the neat baskets in the cabinet behind the door.

Cumbersomely, you picked the pregnancy test box from its place and hatched it open, the contents of the box falling with a loud clatter on to the floor. In fear of waking Chris - who was just the other side of the door - you quickly picked up the contents and read through it.

"Three minutes..three minutes, got it." You mumbled to yourself, took to the toilet and began to pee on the plastic stick of doom.

You begged to whatever divine being in the skies you weren't pregnant, the thought of introducing up possible parental worries to your mix of a bad childhood, anxiety and tendency to fear the worst only made your stomach drop in terror.

You just did what you had to do, put the cap back on the stick, set the timer and left it on the sink basin.

Instead of pacing around the bathroom like most soon-to-be mothers would do, you just sat silent on the rim of your marble bath thinking rationally about the outcome.

So what if you were pregnant?

Would Chris be happy with the news?

Of course he would, he wouldn't have stopped in the Babies-R-Us section of Toys-R-Us to look at those cute baby grows last week for no good reason. Nor would he have fussed and cooed over your nephew as much as he did.

"Hey babe! Come have a look at these!" Chris caught your attention from the breastfeeding pump section and dragged you over to the baby clothes section. "Aren't they adorable?" He mused dreamily at the tiny pink frilly dresses, baby-grows and other accessories, an arm winding its way around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

"They are, yes but my brother had a boy, Chris. A boy. And besides," you rolled your eyes at the pout on his plush pink lips. "He's got loads of clothes." You laughed and pushed the trolley back to the various priced pumps, the sizes, different contraptions and names were starting to freak you out a little.

"Well what happens if one day, we could be buying some pink frilly dresses for our own little princess.." Chris mused again, this time more purposeful as he drew soft circles into your hips with his large warm hands. Like a switch, your back straightened tensely and made your mind do a double take.

"How about it Y/N?" Chris hummed into the crook of your neck as he kissed and sucked the area tentatively, hands still drawing circles on your hips - much to your displeasure.

"I would like it yes," You huffed with a slight sharpness. Chris' head rose from your neck and you could feel the smile radiate off him without looking. You didn't want to break that beautiful smile but god were you scared of parenthood.

"But I'm not quite ready yet Chris." You released yourself from his hold and went on with the baby-based shopping list for your little nephew, picking up the best sounding and looking pump and placing it in the trolley.

A unruly ringing noise sounded from your phone and broke you from your silent trance. You were rapidly quick to turn it off and then rushed straight to the sink to find out the answer on the stick.

'Breathe Y/N! Breathe! You have to breathe!’ You thought frantically to yourself as your eyelids slammed shut and you inched towards the stick, hands out in trepidation and fear.

It was at that moment that you knew that all your prayers, wishes and pleads had gone unanswered and that your life was going to change very drastically. Nobody prepared you for the moment your eyes peeled open and you saw the answer stating you dead back in the eyes, nobody told you the feeling of dread you'd feel once you saw those words displayed like a hazard sign.

It was undeniable. You were indeed three to four weeks pregnant with yours and Chris' child.

•=•=•=•=•=•=•

For what could've been hours, minutes or seconds, you sat at the base of yours and Chris' bed with the positive pregnancy stick in hand. Much to your relief, Chris wasn't in the room when you opened the door with tears rolling down your cold red cheeks.

He had gone out to get the two of you some breakfast and coffee and would be back in ten, so said his note that sat on the semi-made bed. That was twelve minutes ago, according to the time on your phone but like his ways, Chris was still on time and the sound of his car rumbling back into the driveway broke your trance on nothing particular.

The front door slamming shut, Dodger's gleefull bark and the sound of feet padding back up the stairs became more enhanced to your senses. Everything was dialled to ten and you hated it.

The bedroom door then creaked open - to your shock - and in slipped a lazy looking Chris dressed in black joggers and a beautifully tight cream white long sleeved t-shirt, his hair tussled here and there most probably due to his baseball cap he ditched downstairs.

You weren't meant to stare at him so blankly but judging by the worried look on his face once he saw you, you knew you'd probably lost your colour whilst you were waiting for him with the worrisome thoughts channeling through your brain.

"Y/N, talk to me. You're not looking too well, are you alright?" Suddenly Chris began to lightly shake your frame and broke you out of your deep trance, your eyes focusing immediately on his worried blue eyes right before you.

"I'm—I'm fine Chris. I—I just wanted to let you kn-" before you could almost tell him the news, Chris' eyes rolled down to the stick that sat limply in your hands and took immediate notice over it.

"Hey what's this?" Chris interjected and licked the stick from your hands quickly. It didn't take him more than a second or two to read the answer on the tiny screen and before you could register it, Chris had stood up and had his back to you and was cradling the stick like a newborn.

"Chris I—" You tried to backtrack on what was most probably going through his head by standing and reaching out to him, the most you could do was pull on his t-shirt feebly.

Without hesitation, Chris spun around and embraced you in a bone clenching hug that lifted you a few inches off the floor and choked you for air.

"You're...actually?" Chris mumbled after he put you down and stared you down with a face splitting smile that could beat any other soon-to-be father's smile out there.

You smiled pathetically, shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head with a grimace - how were you going to tell Chris? What were you going to tell him?

'Oh yeah I don't want your baby since I have a freakish fear of becoming a mom - no, that wouldn't go down well' you thought to yourself and watched Chris back away from you and fist bump the air in joy. As if he had heard your thoughts Chris stopped his celebrations immediately and turned back around to look at you, perplexed as to why you weren't as happy as he was.

"You are happy about this? Aren't you Y/N/N?" Chris inquired in such a false manner your blood boiled at his tone. Why would he be using such a tone on you? You didn't know why but he sounded selfish and unresponsive to your anxious disposition. "Tell me you are, please."

"I can't lie and say I really am, Chris." You shrugged off his stare with a straightforwardness you didn't think you'd have at such a time.

Like fire to oil, his eyebrows furrowed quicker than you could imagine and his hold on your forearms suddenly became loose as he backed away from you.

You didn't understand, what was Chris doing? One minute he was making you furious, the next weepy and guilty. You just couldn't stick it.

"And why not? Didn't you say you wanted a baby?" Chris snapped with a bitterness similar to your own on the inside. He was getting defensive, you could tell by the tight disposition of crosse arms and his clenched jaw - and judging by the tone of his voice, he wasn't going to be up for a heart-to-heart discussion right about now.

"Yes I did Chris but I'm just really—" your bottom lip trembled with a quiver you knew was soon to bring back tears. You couldn't keep looking at Chris, instead you took to looking at this inanimate object on the floor and allowed your arms to wrap around your torso protectively - a comforting habit learnt through time.

"You're just really what? If you're gonna start pegging blames on me then just fucking don't. Sure we had sex one night a while back without protection but I assumes you were on the pill so.." Chris mumbled the last part of his speech more to himself as he rubbed his beard in frustration, to what you couldn't understand.

He was getting so feisty all of a sudden, you just couldn't understand it; it didn't help anything at all and only made you feel more ashamed of your fears by the second.

"Why are you acting like this Chris?" Your voice broke out in a strangled heartbroken sob, your eyes clenched shut in an attempt to stop the tears, ever-so slightly.

Chris' heart broke at the sight of you before him, ghostly pale, a shaking and sobbing mess covered only by one of his large sweaters that reached about midway down your thigh.

If it wasn't for his ego, Chris would've just scooped you up into his arms there and then and kissed the tears and fears out of you. His ego, however, chose a different route. "Acting like what Y/N?" You have no clue how long I have waited for a family of my own! A happy family just like everyone else has, just for me!" Chris partially yelled at you as the tears of his own woes stung the corners of his eyes and burned them without second thought.

"I get that Chris! I'm just—I—I—I'm so so scared being a mom!" You similarly yelled at Chris but your yell was more heartbroken and honest than his was defensive and protective of his own wishes.

As if on cue, the anger within Chris bubbled down to a mere blip at the sight and belief that you were scared; he knew all about your anxiety and crappy childhood with crappy parents and he hated himself even more for not realising earlier.

Slowly, Chris reached out to you and made contact with a tender touch, a touch you only caved into and crashed into his arms without hesitation. The sobs just wouldn't stop coming out for a good while as you stood there in Chris' tender embrace, your tears stained and wet his shirt carelessly.

After a solid two or three minutes of having a good cry, your tears turned to sniffles and you poked your head up to look at your boyfriend with a small smile.

"What's the matter baby?" Chris cooed and rubbed your cheeks with both hands in an attempt to warm them up. "What are you scared of?" Chris inquired again, this time more gentle than the last as he lightly kissed your forehead in an attempt to coax the worries out.

"I'm just..scared I'll be a really bad mom, that's all." You huffed in a defeated and guilty tone.

It was all true, as much as you really wanted to be a mom to your own bundle of joy, you never had any real standard to prepare you for a possible motherhood role - your own mom passing away when you were twelve hours old and your not-so motherly aunt taking and your brother in from that point on.

"Really?" Chris' eyebrows flew up in surprise to your confession. "Considering how motherly you naturally are with children, I wouldn't say you'd need to be scared at all baby." Chris smiled at your embarrassingly flushed cheeks and kissed them as if they were pieces of fresh gold.

"You think?" You mumbled into his chest out of sheer embarrassment. You never let anyone catch on to your maternal ways or dreams, you thought you had been successfully that department but apparently, not so much.

Chris just laughed and agreed positively and wondered how you could be so scared of something you were so good at.

Even though Chris had never told you, he always seemed to catch your lingering gazes on passing pregnant women, baby clothes or babies in strollers walking down the street whilst you were with him. He never told you either that he somehow knew you were pining for a family either, but you didn't need to know that right now - so he thought.

“No honey, I know you’ll be the best mom ever.” Chris told you sincerely, his lips then meeting yours in a passionate yet tender kiss that could make you easily see stars. The two of you stayed in each other’s arms for what seemed like an eternity, Chris’ hands slowly working down your frame to the lowest part of your stomach and rubbed the soon-to-be domed area with a touch that only radiated love.

Only when air became absolutely necessary did you and Chris break away from each other and gazed into each other’s eyes, your hands finding their way on top of Chris at the bottom of your stomach and cupped them tenderly.

“I know I haven’t done anything romantic for this and I will make it up to you..” Chris began to ramble and took to looking away from your inquisitive stare on him. “But first, I need to know something...Y/N, will you marry me?” Chris smiled nervously down to you and watched your face shrink from its smile to a shocked smile.

“Are you sure—you you want me?” You blubbered out bewilderedly and stared at Chris like he was insane. “This isn’t because of the baby—is it?” Your voice quivered at the thought that he was just marrying you for convenience sake.

“No, no god no!” Chris stammered with a tone that you couldn’t understand. “Y/N, we’ve got nine months to be selfish with each other and do as we please before it’s the three of us. And..and as bad as it sounds, I wanna be so selfish and have you all to myself for these nine months.”

“And what about after the baby?” You teased and tickled his hairy jaw with your index finger.

“I’ll still want you to myself.” Chris smirked at your teasing tone and hooked his arms around your back and pulled you into him. “Sure the timing isn’t right but Y/N, you gotta understand I’m not doing this for the baby; I’m doing this for us.” Chris looked you dead in the eye as he spoke

“You’ve always been the one, the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with - children or no children. So what’d you say?” He smirked at you as if he already knew your answer and he was right, he did know your answer.

“A million times, yes.”

Tags - @patzammit

#steve rogers #chris evans #captain america #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #queued bby #chris evans headcanon #chris evans fluff #chris evans x pregnant!reader #chris evans imagine #imagine steve rogers #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut

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spicycreativity · 3 years

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Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Forgetting to eat, fainting Excerpt: "You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth." “I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him. Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

Speak easy on the grapevine Keep shufflin' in a shoe shine Old tin lizzy, do it 'til you're dizzy Give it all you got until you're put out of your misery

A gentle tapping on his door interrupted Janus' fitful attempt at sleep. It couldn't be morning already, could it?

He chalked it up to sleep deprivation when the sight of Patton's face in the doorway actually made him smile. After all, irritation flooded in soon after. Janus had been trying (and failing) to sleep .

"'Morning!" Patton said, his own smile a touch strained.

Janus hid a yawn behind his hand and blinked slowly at Patton until his higher reasoning kicked in. "Good morning, Patton. I assume you need something from me? Or have you developed a magnetic attraction to my door?"

"What?" Patton stopped leaning on the doorframe and stood up straight. "No, I-- I was just about to make breakfast and I thought I'd come see if you wanted to join me."

Janus could practically feel the steam coming out of ears as he tried to come up with a way to decline that wouldn't hurt Patton's feelings. "I don't usually eat first thing in the morning," he said, only just managing not to stammer.

"Coffee, then? Black coffee."

"Like my soul," Janus said automatically.

Unfortunately, Patton seemed to take this as an agreement to join him. "Great!"

His smile wavered a little and his eyes kept flickering to the top of Janus' head-- "Just a moment." Janus ducked back into his room, put his hat back on, and followed Patton down the hall, surveying himself with distaste. His outfit was wrinkled after a night of tossing and turning, and that simply wouldn't do. Janus focused and watched in satisfaction as the creases receded from his clothing.

Then he did some mental math.

Even now, there was no chance that Janus was Patton's first choice of companion, and Patton would have at least had the good sense to warn him if any hostile parties awaited them in the kitchen. At the moment, Logan, Virgil, and Roman all counted as 'hostile parties.' This being the “light” side, Remus didn’t factor in. Ergo, Janus and Patton must have been the only ones awake or willing to come out.

The eerie silence lent credence to that conclusion. The Light side was usually full of such spirited bickering that Janus and Remus could hear it on the other side of the curtain if they listened.

It was a bit odd that Virgil and Logan weren't showing their faces. Virgil in particular couldn't have known Janus was there unless Patton had told him, but Patton had given no indication last night that he was planning on speaking to anyone.

It was quite the mystery, and Janus was more than happy to let it lie until he was better-rested. Last night's headache had returned with a vengeance and exhaustion clawed at the corners of his mind. His capelet may as well have been wet denim, the way it weighed down his shoulders.

"Black coffee," Patton handed Janus last night's ouroboros mug, "espresso-ly for you!"

Janus shook himself. He hadn't even realized they'd arrived in the kitchen. "Thank you," he said, for once at a loss for something sarcastic to say. He thought about much smoother his day would go if he didn't have this budding migraine to contend with and quickly swallowed down the aspirin that appeared in his palm.

"You're sure you don't want breakfast?" Patton asked. "I could make something light. After all, you should know better than anyone not to skip breakfast, Professor Self Care."

"I'm not skipping anything," Janus said, trying to keep a lid on his irritation. He leaned back against the counter and forced himself to take another long swallow of bitter black coffee. "Just delaying it."

"Okaaay," Patton said, sing-song, "but you're gonna feel icky later."

Janus almost responded that he felt pretty 'icky’ now and the nagging wasn't helping, but managed to keep his mouth shut. It didn't help that Patton was technically correct.

Now there was an uncomfortable thought.

Janus leaned against the counter and let his mind wander, idly watching Patton crack eggs into a skillet.

Janus had work to do. Now that Thomas was prepared to listen, Janus' subtler methods of suggestion would serve him no longer. He had thought patterns to dismantle and others to build, not to mention that he wanted to see Remus and find some time to take a nap if possible. And of course, he would have to find time to eat breakfast. Just not now. Not with Patton.

However… Patton's aversion to being alone meant that Janus would have to wait until another side emerged so he could pass off the baton.

Speaking of…

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"I understand Roman's hesitancy to show his face--"

"Hey."

"--but surely Virgil or Logan aren't scared of me. I'm a bit surprised Virgil hasn't shown up to try to run me off."

Patton bit his lip, his brow creasing. Janus hadn't been trying to upset him, but Patton looked like he'd just been forced to give his favorite puppy up for adoption. "Probably not." A beat. "Every time I try to talk to Virgil, he just says he's 'going through it' and won't open the door."

Janus hurriedly raised his mug to his lips so Patton wouldn't see his smile. That certainly sounded like Virgil. "Surely Logan has been more forthcoming."

"I knocked on his door a few times, too, but he won't answer at all. I think he's upset with me."

Now that was an interesting development. And problematic, because that meant Janus was going to have to babysit Patton until something gave. "I thought Logan didn't get upset."

"You heard him yesterday. He said we didn't care about him!"

Janus studied the seams of his gloves, feigning disinterest. "Yes, I did think he was being a little melodramatic. Of course I didn't hurt him."

"He wasn't being dramatic!" Patton insisted. "If Logan feels like we don't care about him… It must have been going on for a while, and none of us noticed. We're supposed to be his friends!"

"I'm sure he'll get over it soon," Janus goaded.

"I don't know, Janus." Patton fixed him with a sorrowful look before turning back to the stove. "I've never known him to get this upset about anything. It feels like everything got really bad all at once and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know what to do."

Janus downed the rest of his coffee and immediately went for a refill. Of course Patton couldn't fix it; the Lights needed more than nagging and platitudes, more than just the Band-Aid solution of superficial apologies with no changed behavior. No, they needed someone to help them introspect, someone smart enough to see through their self-absorbed nonsense.

"Penny for your thoughts," Patton said.

Janus didn't jump like he'd been electrocuted. "My thoughts are worth far more than that," he said, recovering smoothly.

"Can I get a friends and family discount?" Patton asked. He switched off the stove and carefully levered the eggs he'd fried onto a bagel.

"I was thinking about all the work I have to do today," Janus said. It was never too early to start dropping hints.

"Don't forget about breakfast,” Patton said. Nagged. “I could bring you something later, if you want."

Something in Janus' head clicked. Roman and Logan both seemed like the type to get caught up in their work and forget to eat. Patton had probably grown used to babying them. "Don't worry, Patton. Unlike certain other Sides I can actually take care of myself."

"Oh?"

"Yes, it would make perfect sense for the embodiment of self-care to forget something as basic as eating ."

Patton circled around the counter and hopped onto one of the barstools. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be pushy."

He looked at Janus with an expression of earnest regret, his eyes sparkling in the overhead lights. Somewhere deep inside him, Janus' heart pounded. He set his coffee mug aside. Patton must have brewed it strong; it usually took at least three cups to get his heart racing like this and he hadn't even finished his second yet.

"Janus?" Patton looked at him over the tops of his glasses.

"Hm?"

"Did you hear me?"

"...Yes."

Patton smiled. "I asked if you wanted to work in the living room. You know, since, um. It's just gonna be the two of us."

"No," said Janus automatically.

"No?"

"Yes."

"Now I'm confused."

So am I, Janus nearly said. He schooled his expression behind the distraction of another sip of coffee. "I have business with Remus I need to attend to." Why was Patton's bereft expression so unbearably painful? "Maybe later we could," don't, "play cards again."

Patton's sun-bright smile was so dazzling that Janus nearly had to look away. "I'd love that!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out before he could sign himself up for any more bonding activities.

The Dark Side was pitch black. Janus stood very, very still. "Remus?" he called tentatively, not wanting to interrupt if Remus was focused on a project.

A spotlight clicked on, illuminating Remus standing in the center of a stage. "Oh!" he said, glancing in Janus' general direction. "Hi!"

Janus looked down with annoyance to find that his sensible black oxfords had been replaced with pointe shoes. He changed them back with a concentrated effort. "What's this?"

"I was working on a nightmare for Thomas." In a blink, Remus restored the living room. He flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table, revealing blood stains on the tips of his own pointe shoes. “Little early for day drinking, don’t you think?”

Janus realized he was still holding the coffee mug Patton had given him. He switched the contents out with water and took a long drink. The aspirin had barely touched his headache and the nagging, low-level pain invited in nausea and lightheadedness. Better to take care of that before it escalated into something worse.

He sat beside Remus on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, knocking his hat askew in the process. “You have no idea what it’s like over there.” He straightened his hat and squinted at Remus' shoes. “Wait. A nightmare about ballet?”

“You remember Black Swan?”

“Oh. Well. As much as I’d love to waste your time when you clearly have something better to do, I can always come back later.”

“No, no.” Remus changed his pointe shoes back into boots. “You look like shit. What did they do to you?”

“I do not!” Janus set his water down and summoned a hand mirror. He did look, perhaps, a little tired, but that was easily fixed with a small illusion. He sent the hand mirror back to his room and didn’t glare at Remus. “I do not.”

Remus’ smile shattered into a laugh. “Go on, what did they do to you? Wrap you up in a blanket and make you cookies? Wash your feet with scented oils?”

“Yes, right after the parade they held in my honor.”

"And then they all took turns sucking your--"

"Please put that image in my head."

Remus just gave an apologetic shrug and settled back into the couch cushions. "So what's really going on, hm? It hasn't even been a day and you're already running back to me to bitch about it. They’re not still fighting, are they?”

“Ugh, Remus.” Janus tilted his head back, pressing the back of his hand to his brow in an exaggerated swoon. Still, he was careful to keep his voice low in case anyone was listening. “They're all locked in their rooms pouting. Except for Patton, who keeps following me around like a lost little puppy. "It’s so…" A litany of words sprang to Janus' mind; to his horror 'endearing' was among them. "Ugh," he said, waving a hand vaguely.

“You like it.” Remus’ grin was positively demonic.

“Oh, yes, I do so enjoy having a nagging little tagalong,” Janus said, but it was too late. Remus had latched onto the idea like barnacles to a boat's hull.

"You like him !"

"Oh, yes, Remus, I've been planning out our wedding all day. I just love the sad little puppy dog look he gives me whenever I try to leave the room. It was love at first self-righteous lecture."

Remus' grin widened until it threatened to split his face (a very real possibility when he was involved). "The snakey doth protest too much, methinks."

" No, I--"

“What’s your plan?" Remus interrupted. "Going to seduce him? You going to write a love poem ?”

“Oh, definitely ," Janus sneered. "What rhymes with ‘exasperating’?”

“Masturbating? Kind of a slant rhyme, but I think you could sell it.”

“Charming.”

“Hey.” Remus shrugged. “You came to me for romantic advice.”

“Yes, that was why I came to see you. Not to complain about how The Great American Nag won’t stop following me around and sighing wistfully about how his friends are sad, boohoo.”

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “You do have a plan to deal with him.”

“One that doesn’t involve seduction via dirty love poetry, I’m afraid," Janus said, making an exaggerated pouty face with accompanying hand gestures.

“Boring," Remus replied.

“But you’ll listen anyway because you love me ever so?”

“Like flies love dookie.”

Janus held up a hand to stop Remus from actually summoning a cloud of flies. “If I can at least get Logan out of his room, then Patton will stop following me around and I can get back to--”

“Lusting over Daddy in the shadows?”

Janus took a long, measured breath. “I’m not lusting--”

“Face it, Snakehole."

"Ew."

"You can’t stand seeing Hot Daddicus Finch sad. You want to fix it for him. It’s funny, actually.” To illustrate his point, Remus gave a shrill, hyena cackle. "After all those nights complaining about his, what did you call it, 'saccharine simpering,' it turns out you --" he poked Janus in the chest-- "have a sweet tooth."

“I--” All of Janus' instincts were screaming at him: deny, deny, deny! But shock stilled his tongue and left him staring at Remus as a horrifying realization dawned on him.

Remus seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time. "Holy shit, was I right? I was just teasing!"

If Remus were any other side, Janus would have thrown an insult at him and made a tactical retreat. Instead, he stood, fussing with his cape so he wouldn’t have to look Remus in the eye. “I have to go speak with Logan.”

“That means I’m right, right?” Remus cackled again, longer this time. “Careful, Jay, you’re getting predictable.”

“No, this was all according to plan,” Janus said, already walking away. “You’re just a pawn in my vast chess game.”

“I prefer checkers,” Remus called after him. “Good luck! Don't forget to wear a condom!"

Janus chose to appear right outside Logan’s door, the better to avoid an accidental run-in with Patton. Despite Remus’ taunting, Janus really didn’t want Patton to know what he was up to, and not because he thought it might hurt Patton's feelings, and certainly not because he feared the effect that Patton’s starry-eyed gratitude might have on him. He just preferred to handle his dealings in the dark, that was all.

Strategy remained something of an afterthought. Remus' teasing had left Janus too flustered to focus, and now he was outside Logan's door.

Well.

First, he had to get in. Then he could draw the details out of Logan and improvise from there.

Janus knocked on the door with the back of his hand. “Logan? It’s Janus. I had a question for you, if you’re not too busy.”

It was gentle flattery, but flattery all the same: Janus humbling himself before Logan’s intellect. It was also an appeal to Logan’s natural curiosity; surely he would want to know what it was Janus needed help with.

Sure enough, Logan opened the door a crack. His eyes were blank behind his glasses, his mouth a straight line. “Did I hear you correctly? You want my help?”

“No.” Janus couldn't help but roll his eyes. “I was hoping to have an intellectual discussion with Roman. Isn’t his door blue?” His head throbbed and he realized with some irritation that he had forgotten to eat something before getting on with his business. Patton had been right after all.

Logan didn’t budge. “What’s your question?”

“Logan, I’m surprised at you. I'd think you would know better than to leave a guest standing in the hall.” “I'm sorry, but I don’t desire company at this time.”

“Well.” Janus straightened up. “Maybe I will ask Roman instead. For all the good it'll do me."

It was an obvious bluff: Janus weighing Logan’s jealousy against his anger.

The scales tipped.

Logan opened the door properly and stepped aside. “Come in.”

Janus fought to keep the smile out of his voice. “Thank you.”

Logan shut the door behind him and crossed to the opposite side of the room. He neither sat nor offered Janus a seat, only stared at him with cold expectation. “Your question, Deceit.”

“Janus.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Janus.”

“Very well.” Logan stared him down. “Your question, Janus.”

“What’s that? ” Janus had never been the best at eye contact whereas Logan insisted on it. Janus had flicked his eyes away from Logan’s icy gaze and caught sight of a line of sickly blue bruises on the side of Logan’s neck. An instinctive wave of guilt made his stomach clench.

“They are bruises,” Logan said matter-of-factly, though his facial expression displayed an intense desire to talk about something else. “Bruises form when capillaries, small blood vessels near the skin’s surface, are broken, usually due to an impact with something hard.” He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Something like a wooden shepherd’s crook, for example.”

Janus chose to avoid meeting Logan’s gaze; his capelet was sliding off his shoulder and he needed to adjust it. “You know as well as I do that injuries only affect us if we believe in them. Or have you forgotten Remus’ little throwing star lobotomy?”

“I’m aware,” Logan said stiffly.

Another dizzying wave of guilt threatened to knock Janus over. He took a half-step backwards to keep his footing. “Look. If it’s any consolation, Logan, I wouldn’t have done that if I had known it was going to hurt you.”

Logan’s face twitched with something that Janus recognized a split second later-- suppressed rage. “Janus,” he said, his voice somehow even. “I do not believe you.”

"Oh, yes," Janus spat, every word laced with venom, "You're right . I love causing unnecessary bodily harm to other Sides, that sounds exactly like me."

Logan gave a slight shake of his head. “You-- all of you --have made it abundantly clear that my presence is neither welcomed nor, in many cases, even tolerated. You would have done whatever it took to get me out of the way so you could pursue your agenda, and the others would likely not have stopped you even if they had known. Or rather, had they tried to stop you, it would have been in the service of doing just that: stopping you, rather than in service of assisting me ." Janus' defensive anger gave way to something very like concern, but Logan was still going: "They have given no indication they care about me; in fact, I believe they have grown to dislike me.” Logan broke off, breathing heavily. He didn’t seem to notice the way his fingers dug into his neck. "So, no, Janus. I do not believe you. Kindly ask your question and leave."

“I…” said Janus, for the sake of not making Logan feel judged while he came up with something of substance to respond. He hadn't been expecting that . “Didn’t Patton come check on you?”

“He left,” Logan said. “I waited, and he left.”

“You wanted him to apologize,” Janus guessed. “You wanted him to notice that he’d hurt you and apologize for it.”

Logan adjusted his tie. “I do not feel, and therefore I do not want.”

Janus didn’t even have to respond to that, only raise his eyebrows and look at the bruises that marred Logan’s skin (the bruises he had left).

“Janus, I do not understand what you stand to gain from this conversation,” Logan said. “I don't believe you would have come here just to watch me embarrass myself. Did you have a question, or was there something else you wanted from me?"

Janus ignored the question. He had just landed on his strategy. “Would you like to learn something, Logan?”

“Always.”

“Even though you might not like it?” “It is irrational to dislike knowledge.”

“So it doesn’t bother you that 85 is divisible by 17?”

For a moment, Logan looked like he might argue. Then he sighed, and might even have smiled a bit. “Go on.”

"You," Janus pointed at him, "have been derelict in your duty." He waited for Logan to look suitably offended before he continued, "Not as Logic, but as a friend."

Logan frowned, not offended, but puzzled. "I have?"

Janus thought it might be a bit too much to change Logan's room into a stage, but it was alright; he didn't need the physical change to feel the spotlight on him, to see Logan sitting, rapt, in the audience. “If you haven’t told the others how you feel, you have no right to expect them to just know . Patton and Roman especially have a difficult time intuiting how others are feeling unless you spoon-feed it to them. You cannot lock yourself away and expect them to come crawling on their knees, begging for your forgiveness. You need to communicate. You need to tell them how you feel .”

“How,” Logan said drily, “does one ‘spoon-feed’ emotions?”

“Please keep trying to deflect; you're so good at it."

“But you’re saying that I should explain to the others that my f…”

“ Go on.”

“Feelings are hurt.” Logan winced.

“Growth is often uncomfortable,” Janus said, adding a silent ‘ not that I would know’ for his own benefit.

“And you’re sure they’ll listen?” Logan, for the first time since Janus had known him, looked unsure. He adjusted his tie, which was already immaculate, and stared at Janus.

“One can only hope, since they claim to be your friends," Janus said to reassure him. "And you know, use ‘“I” statements’ instead of ‘“you” statements,’ you remember elementary school.”

A pause.

“Janus? Please elaborate on one thing for me."

"Yes?"

"Why are you helping me? Last time we were in proximity, you gave no indication whatsoever that you cared for me or my 'feelings,' nor for anyone else's. What changed?"

"It's complicated," Janus said, trying to evade the question.

"It's my job to handle 'complicated.' So tell me: Why are you helping me?"

Oh, Janus just loved feeling cornered. His eyes kept finding their way to the bruises on Logan's neck, tangible proof of all the pain Janus had caused. "Quid pro quo," he lied. "Patton misses you and I owe him a debt." His head swam and he forced himself to stand perfectly still to try to keep his balance. Blue bruises dominated his vision.

"Falsehood."

"Fine." Janus curled his lip. "Because I felt sorry for you--"

"Janus," Logan said in a tone of patient annoyance, like an irritated schoolteacher, "please."

Janus took a breath and tried to swallow down the sick guilt clawing at his chest. He wished Logan would have offered him a chair. Now was probably a bad time to ask. “It's because I’m sorry . I--” The room tilted sideways and he staggered in a bid to keep his balance, as there was nothing to steady himself against. “I’m sorry I did that.” He gestured at Logan's neck, fighting for breath. Every word seemed to require twice as much oxygen as usual. “It was wrong of me to silence you. And…” Deep breath. “Even though I thought it wouldn’t affect you--” Telling the truth didn’t usually hurt like this; he felt a little like he was going to be sick. What was going on? “It did, and I'm sorry."

#spicywrites #spicywrites soft-shoe shuffle #song featured: rag doll - aerosmith

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