#it goes hand in hand with their complex surrounding blame and taking responsibility when it’s not theirs to take

[impossible-rat-babies]

I just. love the funny intersection eyrie has between DRK and WAR it just tickles my fancy

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Jason Todd x gn! Reader - Like him a lot

A/n: I think I've officially decided that all these fics are linked so far, and I've decided that you met Jason as red hood first in this timeline, so that will probably be what the next fic for him will be about!

Request: I loved your fic with Jason! Can you do one with them in the beginning of their relationship where they are both so awkward

Warnings: Swearing, awkwardness, some anxious thoughts, second hand embarrassment omg (it's so bad,) cringy asf, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pronouns used: You/you] [Pov: 2nd person] [Pairings: (romantic!) Jason x reader]

"No mom, it's just a couple of dates I-" You sigh as your mother blabbers on and on over the phone about how you and Jason are destined to be together and everything else in between.

"Mom I don't know if he wants to be in a relationship right now, but just to appease your undying curiosity." You said "curiosity" with air quotes even if she couldn't see them. "I do like him." You go quiet for a second and your voice turns soft. "I like him a lot."

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jason coming through as he turned his head to find you and as his eyes landed on your figure he waved at you. Though he clearly looked happy to see you and his happiness just seemed infectious.

You liked Jason, you liked him a lot more than you should for someone you didn't know two months ago. You didn't want to screw this up, you really didn't.

"I have to go mom he's here! Love you, bye." You quickly hang up excitement clear in your voice. (But also so she couldn't go on one of her rants.)

Although Jason doesn't come over right away but he doesn't look away from you and you two are kinda just in some weird smiling contest.

Gesturing your hands to motion him over to you he blinks a couple of times before scurrying over to you, neck a little red.

"Sorry I just didn't know-"

You cut his gruff embarrassed response off with a giggle and a shake of your head.

"It's fine I probably wasn't helping."

The coffee date goes pretty well as you two talk about some books, and this new tv show that came out not to long ago. At some point you guys had decided to ditch the coffee place and start heading out as it was getting dark. While you walked the long (really it was the biggest detour ever) to get to your apartment complex you looked down at his hand.

You felt those stupid butterflies in your stomach and you fidgeted with your own hands. Why were you so nervous about holding hands, why did he make you feel like everything you did was incredible? But what if he thought holding hands was for someone who was in a relationship? What if your hands were sweaty and he thought that was weird?

Yet that feeling of being on cloud nine wouldn't leave you, and you wanted to hold his hand despite the nervousness to do so. So without thinking further on it you just jumped right in.

Like an idiot.

You grabbed his hand like you were a frat boy snatching a can of beer, plus you didn't know where to put your fingers. It was a nightmare.

But Jason judge you or give you a strange look, instead he laughed and brought your other hand in his and spun you around.

Eventually you got to your apartment, hands held, and now you were standing at the door of it, just staring at each other trying to figure out what to do now.

You go to open your mouth but a person comes from behind you knocking you forward right into his arms.

"Oh, my god!" You gasped, and quickly backed away from Jason. "I am so sorry!"

The person swiftly leaves to try an avoid whatever the hell was happening between you and Jason. You almost wanted to cry at the prick to take you with them because of all the embarrassment flowing through your veins.

"Not your fault, that person was just being a dick." He shrugs his shoulders, not even blaming you for not paying attention to your surroundings.

You weren't sure if it was possible to like a person so much when you haven't even known them for half a year! But Jason's leather jackets, cool guy persona, while being the biggest softie you had ever met had won you over. You knew you were in complete and utter infatuation with this man.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to come in." You whispered gazing at him with almost wide eyes. "But I know you're busy and you'll have to leave soon."

Jason presses his lips together before nodding sadly and letting his head fall open to the sky.

"Can I kiss you?" He mumbles nearly offhandedly and his eyes widen immediately after he asked you indicating that he really hadn't meant to say that.

"Not that you have to or anything!" He chuckles nervously. "Obviously! And this is only a date-"

You shut him up with your lips and yes it's pretty fucking awkward at first because you did just launch yourself at him. Yet you two get the hang of it and suddenly it's the best thing you've ever experienced and you want more.

Somehow you ended up making out with Jason Todd in front of your apartment complex without thinking about who could just walk by and see.

When you pull away your body is right up against his and you hands were cupping his cheeks to deepen the kiss and his on your waist.

He gazes at you through half-lidded eyes and in that moment you don't care if anyone could see you, you wanted to kiss him again.

So you did, you kissed him again, and again, and again, although it probably looked like you were a pair of horny teenagers to any passerby you didn't care. You loved that he brought out that part of you that didn't need others opinion's on things when they aren't needed for.

When you pull away for real this time your foreheads are touching as you both try and catch your breaths.

"I have to go." He mutters.

You sigh and take a step back. "I know, see you..." You trail off having no idea when you'll see him next.

"Tomorrow, same time if that works for you?"

You grin as you nod and slowly open the door to your apartment.

"See you Jay!"

When you close the door you can't help but lay your head back on it and laugh in joy.

Ya, you like him a lot.

Words 1039

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Dc taglist: No one yet

[redwhale]

Quick Yellowjackets thoughts so I can clear my head – once I watched the final episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, it’s going to be hard to shift mental gears back!

SPOILERS:

Spoilers! Spoilers! Spoilers!

Like a lot of folks, I spent the episode in the present timeline narrowing down who was going to die – and was heartbroken when I realized all the evidence towards Nat kept building. There was an instant around the campfire when I realized Nat had no one in that moment. Shauna had Jeff and Callie there for her, Misty had Walter, Van had Tai, and Lottie had her people and her belief. In the next scene, Lottie in the past gave over the leadership to a shocked Natalie, and I heartbrokenly realized it was done. Oh, Nat, my darling. I think I'm still processing.

I’m absolutely shattered for the loss Adult Nat and Juliette Lewis, but I adore from a narrative structure and perspective to see a character’s arc coming to a close in the present day as the younger version of the same character begins the next step in their arc. I love that that I know where Natalie as a character begins and ends, but I’m still missing the in-between. As Yellowjackets as proved many times this season, one of its great strengths are plot revelations that completely recontextualize existing scenes.

I was holding it together well with Nat dying, until Adult Nat began to cry on the plane. It was such a raw performance from Juliette Lewis that I had an involuntary little sob with her. Lewis will be dearly, dearly missed.

Whether you prefer the supernatural or the rational reading of the show, how heartbreaking that Natalie was back on the goddamn plane in the moments before her death. And whether ‘It’ is real or not, seeing Natalie's final moments accepting ‘It’ before her death and letting it in was hard. I so wish she’d been free from that.

I know a lot of people had predicted Natalie saving Lisa and dying in the process, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing to have been correct, as it means the focus of Natalie’s arc was solid. Nat, you were the best of them.

It was riveting watching Young Nat’s transition from shock and discomfort to giddiness and joy at become the leader.

It was also fascinating seeing Young Misty be the one to give Lottie hardcore cannibalism survival pep-talks: the group needs to do this and believe this to survive. Pep talking the messiah, as you do, though Lottie passed on her crown quickly.

There were so many great theories after 2.08 that the one who survived the hunt became the next Antler Queen, but now that Lottie has passed the leadership torch to Nat, I presume she becomes the Antler Queen in a static role. She also now has a fascinating foil in Coach Ben, who was surrounded by antler imagery all season. Is he an antagonistic foil to Nat, or a potential sacrifice?

Coach Ben, I still hope you live on to this day. I’m so intrigued where that leaves his character now, with his intention to kill the girls by burning the cabin. Does he still live on in the cave? Will we still follow his POV in the past? Does Nat figure it out what happened and the group goes hunting for Ben in vengeance?

Van continues to be a walking bundle of complex ambiguity. In the present, I think part of her was genuine in wanting to take responsibility over Lottie, but she also wanted another chance at life and her cancer going into remission. The weight in the final look between Adult Lottie and Adult Van sure was something.

I loved seeing Shauna in the past wanting to be the leader, and not being chosen, and how that entangled into her blaming Jackie for feeling invisible, but realizing that feeling didn’t end with Jackie’s death.

I’m fascinated to see how Nat dying affects Misty, especially by Misty’s accidental own hand. Misty is the main character we have the least amount backstory for, so I’m curious if next season Misty coping with Nat’s death might reveal more about her past.  (I'll also always carry a torch for Misty/Nat.)

I wonder if there will be a bit of a timeskip in the present day next season, eg. Simone and Sammy, Van’s cancer, Shauna/Jeff/Callie trying to go back to normal lives, Lottie recovering, everything surrounding Kevyn, Misty dealing with the loss of Nat. Tai is the only character for me it would be a little jarring to do a time skip with, but I feel like it would benefit the rest of the cast.

There were two spoiler-y behind the scenes pictures for two potentially different storylines that didn’t get used this season. I won’t spoil here, but very curious if they were filmed and will be used later, or were cut entirely.

Both the younger and the adult casts were absolute powerhouses all season. Can everyone win an Emmy?

It’s hard to beat S1 because it’s so brilliant conceptually and in execution, but I thought S2 was a very enjoyable (and stressful) follow up. Ep.9 was a solid end of the season for me, with enough resolved to feel satisfied for now, but with plenty of questions to still be answered. My big hope was that the Adam Martin storyline would fully come to a close. I know we saw Walter tying up as much of that subplot as he could, but we still have the question of why had Martin made all those paintings of Shauna…. so I’m still wary whether that storyline has been fully resolved yet. It may be intended by the showrunners that he painted them all in the time he knew Shauna… but given his Yellowjackets yellow-blue keys, the time some paints can take to dry-? Hopefully some post-finale interviews give clarity there. I’d be happy to be done with the subplot, though.

Off to catch up on other people’s thoughts and watch the final episode of Mrs. Maisel. From cannibalism to comedy!

[linkspooky]

Yuta vs Yuji

(They are both Good Boys ™ and that’s the Problem ™ )

As this week the boys are still fighting, I thought it would be interesting to take a more in depth look at both of their characters and how they compare and contrast with each other. Yuta and Yuji are both protagonists who have protagonistic motivations. Their central conflict, Itadori’s struggle to find a good death surrounded by people he loves, and Yuta’s struggle to be surrounded by people he loves and protects them, relates to protecting the people they love and the world around them. However, that’s also what drives them into conflict with each other. They both view themselves as “the hero” even in conflicts such as the fight against each other, where there is really no good guy. 

1. I want to live / I want to die

Yuta and Yuji are opposites in their stated motivation. Yuta’s goal is to find a way to live a happy life, surrounded by the people he loves. Yuji’s goal is to find a way to die surrounded by people he’s helped in life. 

Not only are their stated motivations opposites however, on the outside they are both the opposite in several ways. Yuji is someone who is known for his strength whereas Yuta is immediately remarked upon as the type to get bullied.  Yuji is immediately remarked upon for his cheerful disposition, whereas everyone who knows Yuta picks on him at first and notices how gloomy he is. 

Yuji is someone who seems to make friends and connect with people almost immediately, whereas Yuta is someone who it probably took him a long time to start getting along with Maki and Inumaki based on what we see in the prequel. Maki challenges him at first, and Yuta doesn’t understand Inumaki at first. 

Yuta is passive, and Yuji is active. Yuji is known for running after people to save them. Yuta’s actually not as motivated to save random strangers as Yuji is, he’s simply going along with becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer because that will help his goals, 1) to make new friends and find a reason to live 2) to release Rika.

The difference between them even manifests in the way they became cursed. Yuji actively chose to swallow a curse, because he wanted to help Megumi and needed the power to do so. It was a decision he made. Yuta was the one who cursed Rika yes, but not only was it a jujutsu technique he used unconsciously, he also forgot about it and blamed Rika for cursing him instead.  

Which is also something that reflects in the central flaws of both characters. Yuta is someone with a victim complex. He tends to avoid taking direct responsibility for his actions and blaming it on someone else. He acts passive in almost every situation, and doesn’t accept that it may be his fault. Which is why he misremembered what happened to Rika. Yuta could not accept the idea that he was to blame for cursing Rika, so he blamed Rika in his memories instead for cursing him.

It’s been outlined by Maki before Yuta’s victim complex, but basically he reads as a nice person on the surface by pretending to be innocent when he’s not. Which is why she says his goodness feels fake, and he himself feels gross. Yuta kind of just, represses and ignores the bad parts of his personality, to seem like a hapless victim. Of course Yuta is not good or bad, he’s just a dude. But, Maki even goes further to point out Yuta himself doesn’t even seem to know who he wants to be. 

Yuta’s central character flaw is that he never accepts responsibility for his own actions. He has no self confidence and because of that he has a really tough time standing up as an individual. 

When he can learn to control his power, and stand on his own two feet rather than just avoiding responsibility and acting like a victim with no control over his situation. Yuta begins to change, but I think he also elevates his friends far beyond himself. 

He aspires to be like his friends, but he also feels like they’re already better than him and he’s unworthy. Which is why he’s constantly insecure about the relationship and needs to protect them. Yuta believes himself to be weak, he sees himself as a weak person, and so in every situation he tends to assume he’s the weak one or a weak victim which makes it hard for him to see what he’s responsible in those situation. 

On the other hand Yuji takes almost too much repsonsibility. Rather than trying to depend on others, Yuji is always, running ahead on his own and that’s where he makes his mistakes.

He thought he was strong enough to take down Choso on his own. He wasn’t. He thought he was strong enough mentally to prevent Sukuna from rampaging, he wasn’t. Yuji’s mistakes always come from taking on more responsibility than he can handle, and then letting things fall out of his control. 

Yuta’s irresponsible because he sees himself as a victim and doesn’t understand how strong he is, Yuji’s irresponsible because he constantly overestimates what he himself can handle.

If you take the scene after Yuji dies the first time into account. Sukuna outlines several facts. One, that Yuji is not actually strong enough to suppress him. Two, that he rampaged against Megumi specifically because Yuji got cocky and tried to use his power without using a binding vow and think it through. Three, that Yuji overestimates himself and his capability to keep Sukuna down and because of it, he agrees to a simple terms of “If I defeat you inside my own body you revive me with no conditions” and then just immediately dies. 

All of this of course being foreshadowing for what happens after the Choso fight. Once again, Yuji overestimates himself and how he can win the fight fighting alone. Halfway through Yuji gets overwhelmed and Sukuna surfaces. When Sukuna surfaces he rampages, because Yuji did not even think of the possibility that Sukuna might rampage if he died or lost consciousness, and therefore there was no binding vow in place to stop him. It’s not because Yuji is a bad kid, but because he is a kid, and doesn’t know better. He acts like any fifteen year old would dealing with a 1000 year old spirit that’s much smarter than him. But it’s also a case of Yuji thinking everything comes down to strength and he can beat Sukuna just by being stronger, when Yuji actually solves none of his problems by fighting alone, and all of his major victories come from fighting together with others. 

Yuji and Yuta are even opposites in regards to their curses. Rika loves Yuta and wants to protect him. He loses control of her because he’s too scared to face her, and has no idea how to begin controlling his power, which is once again this flaw that Yuta’s fear is a fear of taking responsibility. Yuji on the other hand his curse Sukuna loathes his guts, and is constantly trying to undermine him. Yuji’s problem is again and again he’s proven to underestimate Sukuna, he’s not afraid enough of Sukuna because Yuji himself considers himself a strong person and overestimates what he can be responsible for. Rika is an ally outside of Yuta, and Sukuna is an enemy within Yuji. 

However, after going to such length to establish them as opposites they have one central similiarity. Both of them are incredibly lonely people. They can’t really make friends or connections normally. 

Yuta has this fear of living alone, and Yuji this fear of dying alone. 

They both only form relationships on the basis that they’re needed. Which is why Yuta goes so insane about protecting his friends. Which is why Yuji keeps focusing on death above all else, because that’s their true “purpose” that underlies their stated motivations. They’re both doing this because they are afraid of being alone.

However, they both need to prove that they are “worthy” of love. In order to do that, they need to be good, useful people. Thus they are heroes, thus they are good guys, thus they are protagonists. 

Yuji becomes so insanely motivated to fight after Sukuna’s rampage, because if he doesn’t help someone, if he doesn’t justify his decision to keep on living somehow they’re just a murderer. Both Yuta and Yuji don’t really care about the world or circumstances around them, they just want to be validated by the people around them.

Yuta is a deeply selfish person, because he just wants other people around him to tell him it’s okay to live. However, he’s also just a suicidal fifteen year old kid in the first place, any kid his age would feel that way, would need that support and he shouldn’t need to earn it. That’s what he misunderstands. However, Yuji and Yuta keep trying to seek external validation. They keep trying to earn love rather than having it given to them.

It’s what Yuta completely fails to internalize after his fight with Geto. The lesson he needed to learn was that there was more to the world around him than just protecting the people he loved, but it seems coming back to both of those people he loved being hurt has caused him to double down on “protecting the ones he loved” vs “thinking about what is justice”.Yuta’s still stuck in this mode where he has to earn love, and that becomes his first priority in everything.

The problem with making the decision to ignore justice is that you can end up at the wrong side of the equation. Yuji is Yuta. He’s another victim who allowed a curse to rampage because he was cursed as a teenager and could not control his own power and people ended up dying for it. 

However, because Yuta only understands that his friends have been hurt, and refuses to understand Yuji as both a victim and a person outside of himself he accepts his role of executioner.

Yuta was the person who was going to be executed a year ago. The only reason he didn’t was because Gojo gave him a chance and extended a helping hand. However we’re now seeing Yuta take the opposite path. he’s made the decision to become executioner, to not save when he himself was saved. Which is just sad because Yuta and Yuji are character foils.

 A conflict against Yuji, the other main character, is really just Yuta fighting himself. Yuta cannot forgive himself for the crime of being weak, and therefore he blames Yuji for being like he was a year ago. Yuta still doesn’t know how to stand strong on his own, to accept that his friends love him for who he is, so he’s still trying to earn love by avenging them and acting overprotective against Yuji, when we know Inumaki was friends with Yuji and probably would not want him to be hunted down and killed. 

Yuta and Yuji are both seemingly completely selfless people who can come off as rather self centered when you examine their deeper motivations (they do what they do, because they want to be loved and needed) but it doesn’t come from a place of ego, it’s just that they’re lonely. They can’t feel accepted for who they are so they both try to be heroes instead. 

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 002. a mother’s nightmare

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. (Will be mentioned once posted because I don’t want spoilers huehue)

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: ongoing. | series masterlist

↩ the unexpected | a mother’s nightmare | no other choice  ↪

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?"

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?"

"I can't believe you're here," 

You raise an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him, the soft chatter and calming music in the cafe flowed through the atmosphere, "Well, you said you wanted to catch up."

"Well, yeah..." He trails off sheepishly, "I just really hadn't expected it. Our last meeting only made it seem you were avoiding such conversation."

"You're right. I was, I kind of still am." You answer truthfully, "You have my friend to thank. Something about facing my demons one by one. It has been six years." 

He nods, a small smile on his lips as he spoke. "I suppose I should thank your friend then. Why don't we order something before anything else?"

Osamu stares sadly at the recent text you had sent to him, declining his offer to meet up once again, claiming that you were busy throughout the following week. He didn't want to doubt or push you, it didn't seem like you were pushing him away or anything either, but he still wanted to spend time with you. Only because the last time the two of you had met to catch up with each other, something was bothering him. He didn't know what, but the conversation the two of you shared in the cafe seemed as if you were being cautious with the information you shared. He couldn't blame you. It was going to take awhile before you could open up to him.

He enters the apartment complex that he was directed to by the address given to him, not bothering to scan his surroundings. He didn't know why he was here in the first place. Well, it wasn't as if he had anything better to do in the meantime anyway with his shop still under construction. He had officially made the decision to open his business up in the heart of Kanagawa just weeks ago, he wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but his encounter with you had prompted such a decision. Hence, he had been quite busy himself.

Stepping out of the elevator, he walks down the path towards his destination, stopping at a door with a golden plate with the numbers '210' engraved on it simply, nailed to its wooden structure. He brings a hand up and presses his knuckles against the wooden door before knocking on it gently at least three times to signal the owner of his arrival.

However, as the door swung open, he hadn't expected the person standing before him. His eyes widen slightly as he feels his shoulders grow tense at the abrupt appearance. "What are you doing here in Kanagawa?" 

"Aw," the person before him chuckles, a soft grin playing on his lips as he steps back to pull the door wider, "I miss you too, brother."

Osamu rolls his eyes as he steps inside, "No, seriously. What are you doing here?" 

Atsumu closes the door behind him before following his brother into the vast apartment, Bokuto coming into their line of sight who was sprawled comfortably on one of the couches in the living room, eyes focused on the show being projected from the flat screen television across the room, "We're using the Sports Complex here for our training the next couple of months, I figured it would be better for me to stay here instead of going back and forth between Hyōgo and here, plus coach's apartment is closer to the complex anyway." 

"And you didn't bother to share this information before you invited me over?" Osamu questions Bokuto directly who waves him off with a laugh as he says, "He said he wanted it to be a surprise." 

Osamu lets out a grunt of displeasure at Bokuto's response before plopping himself down next to him, his brows arched in curiosity as he looks around, "And what about the squirt and Sakusa? Will they be staying here with you guys? This place looks pretty big."

"Shoyo's coming over tomorrow," Bokuto shrugs his shoulders, picking up a piece of chip with his fingers from the bag of potato chips in his grasp, "Oomi on the other hand refuses to stay with us because of Atsumu's ‘unhygienic habits’, so he had decided to book a hotel room a few blocks from here." 

Atsumu huffs, running his fingers through his hair as he juts his lower lip into a pout, "I'm clean!" 

"Sakusa probably detest the fact you leave your dirty clothes everywhere," Osamu lets out a laugh, "So how've you been, Bo? I know you've been here the last couple of weeks."

Atsumu huffs, "I'm pretty upset you hadn't met with Bo when I told you, we would have met sooner." 

"I've been busy," Osamu shrugs before he snaps his full attention on his brother at the realization of what his twin was implying, "Wait, you've been here since then?"

"Yeah I have," Atsumu snorts, "Been staying over here with Bokuto, doing some extra training. He actually introduced me to these amazing kids! Reminds me of us, 'Samu when we were younger."

His brother tilts his head to the side, "Kids? You? That's cool, I guess. How do you guys have time to train some little kids while you have your own training?" 

Bokuto nods, "I mean it can be like extra training. I wouldn't want to disappoint them, really. Apparently, I'm the Great Uncle Bo who's the best in volleyball."

Atsumu watches his teammate plaster on a little grin and he couldn't help but let his own smile form at his friend's enthusiasm. "Well, it's only because you bribe them with food. Little Hiro is slowly warming up to me, just you wait, he'll adore me more." He teases.

Bokuto only rolls his eyes at him before glancing over to the wall clock nailed above the television, his eyes widening before scampering around the apartment to grab the things he needed, silently beating himself up for forgetting as the other two watched with amused curiosity. "I'll see you guys later!" 

The twins could only watch their friend move frantically around the room, "Why are you in such a hurry?" 

"I forgot I'm picking up the kids today for training." He huffs, a soft grumble leaving his lips after, "I'll see you guys later." 

"Oi! I should join you picking them up then! Why would Shizuma even ask you?" Atsumu protests, stalking after Bokuto, "This isn't fair. You just want to continue being the favorite uncle." 

Before Atsumu could tackle Bokuto to the ground to stop him, he slams the front door shut right in Atsumu's face. Osamu chuckles at the sight, "Who would have thought you would like kids? What's so important that you have to get those kids to like you anyway?" 

Atsumu walks back into the living room with a pout, "They told me Bo was cooler! It isn't fair, I've been so much cooler to them than he has." 

"Seriously, are my ears deceiving me or are you implying that these kids were enough to crush your pride?" Osamu teases, a small grin playing on his lips. "But really, tell me the truth. I know you. Why are you staying in Kanagawa?" He watches Atsumu shrug, keeping his gaze away from his, "Ah, let me guess? Yumi then? You're avoiding her?" 

Atsumu lets out a groan, "Lately she's been just so clingy and suffocating. It's not like we made things official or anything. I told her myself that I wasn't interested in that kind of relationship."

"I told you not to get involved with her," he chastised, "A few of my friends said she was toxic and yet what did you do?" 

Atsumu can only scoff, "Whatever, she'll go away eventually."

The two brothers continued to converse with each other as if they haven't seen the other in months when it had only been a few weeks since Osamu ventured to Kanagawa for his business scouting purposes. Eventually, Atsumu claimed it was probably time for him to head over to the Sports Complex since Bokuto was probably on the way from picking up the kids he shared to Osamu that he had grown fond of. 

Osamu watches his brother head towards the front door with his gym bag, a million thoughts swimming through his head. You. Should he come clean to Atsumu about reconnecting with you? 

He wasn't dumb, he knew how his brother had come to the conclusion of his true feelings for you ever since you decided to disappear, not that his brother would admit it to anyone, he did know his brother better, probably knew of it before his idiot brother came to realize. He knew what his brother felt since you disappeared. Anger. Regret. He knows that once you had disappeared that his brother had been beating himself up but at the same time he had learned to resent you for leaving him behind, not that Osamu would tell his brother off that if he were to be angry with anyone, it should be at himself for being so blind to your feelings for him. He didn't want to pour more salt to freshly exposed wounds at the time.

Despite you walking out on his brother had caused a drastic change in how Atsumu lived his life, he knows that somehow, deep down, Atsumu will always hold you dear to his heart, not that he would also admit to such, only spewing his distaste for you ever since you had left. He knew otherwise. Of course, a part of him wants to come clean to his brother, but a part of him also wanted to earn your trust first. He remembers how as much as the two of you shared memories created the past six years, you had avoided any formed conversation regarding his twin brother. He was torn.

"Hey 'Tsumu," Osamu calls out just as his brother was about to leave the apartment. Atsumu glances over his shoulders to look at his brother in curiosity. Osamu sighs with a shake of his head, "Ah..."

The last two weeks felt emotional, yet weird for you. The twins started their training with their new favorite Uncle Bokuto, as they so put it much to Asuma and Reiji's dismay. You, as much as the rest of your friends, including Bokuto, were just as shocked when the twins had started calling him 'the great Uncle Bo', of course, you were quick to protest to the twins that Bokuto probably didn't want them to call him such, but with a grinning Bokuto, he quickly claims he didn't mind, repeating the name the twins call him as if it were a term of endearment. You had questioned the twins what had brought on the idea of calling Bokuto their 'great Uncle Bo' and Hiro simply responded with a "because Uncles are cool and he's the coolest so far!". Needless to say, since then, a competition for the Best Uncle title between Uncles had commenced.

The past two weeks since their training had started, the twins seemed to wake up earlier than usual, it was as if they had more energy than they usually had, often barging into your room to wake you up and pestered you to make breakfast before their Uncle Shizuma, who had volunteered to join their training to watch over them, picks them up half an hour early for their training with Uncle Bo and his friend who Bokuto promises to introduce once everyone's schedules were flexible.

However, as the holiday season for Galaxy Standard was fast approaching its end, you were far too busy to accompany their training sessions or even agree to a get together with any of the boys. Luckily, you had an assistant manager to help you around. It was finally a brand new season for the boys to go on tour, and setting up everything was a handful. You barely had any time for yourself.

Before your busy schedule had taken over your life, you were able to reconnect with Osamu at least once like Asuma had suggested. It was a brief meeting, but you enjoyed yourself nevertheless. Of course, you still refused to come clean over your little secret, you just figured it wasn't the right time nor was it something that should be discussed since it was the first time reconnecting with Osamu. Somehow, it wasn't the time to do so with your busy schedule, you were exhausted enough taking care of little pranksters that you call sons, that the drama that might ensue from a bomb confession like that would probably be the cause of your downfall. Dramatic as it sounds, you couldn't afford being mentally exhausted during the hectic upcoming weeks. 

You were grateful that Osamu kept his distance respectfully, not pestering you to be in his company, no matter how eager he had seemed. The two of you texted back and forth, him wanting to set up another arrangement to meet, while you—declining, well you were busy, it wasn't as if you were avoiding him, it was the truth. 

"Uncle Shizuma is taking too long!" Atsuhiko whines from the living room, staring at the front door with a pout, his arms folded across his chest, "Uncle Bo is waiting for us!" 

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle not being used to the twins addressing Bokuto, whom they had just met recently, as their Uncle, as you placed your work tablet on the coffee table, plopping yourself down on the couch that Atsuhiro occupied reading his little storybook about dinosaurs. Your arms instantly wrap around the little boy's body, pulling him closer to you. You nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, receiving a giggle from his lips as he protests, trying to pry himself out of your grasp. "What? You don't like mommy's cuddles anymore? Are you a big boy now?" 

"No mommy," he shakes his head as he puts the storybook away, only to wrap his short arms around your neck to hug you closer, "I love mommy's cuddles even when I get big. Just tickles." 

The doorbell echoes throughout the room and before you could muster any form of response, Atsuhiko jumps from the couch claiming that he'll answer it. You could only protest with a yell, extracting your arms away from Atsuhiro to follow him in case it was a stranger. 

"Atsuhik—" 

"Uncle Bo! You're here!"

You halt in your footsteps as you blink a couple of times, wondering if you were hallucinating. Why was he here? How did he even know where you lived? 

"Uncle Bo!" Atsuhiro cries out, jumping out of his seat and rushing over after slinging one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder, his other hand gripping onto his brother's own backpack to hand it over. You were confused at Bokuto's presence, however, your boys showed no sign of surprise but more on the side of excitement, practically giddy that their Uncle Bo had picked them up for training this time. 

Bokuto seemed to sense your confusion and gave you a sheepish smile, "I'm assuming Shizuma didn't inform you. Ah—anyway, he had plans today and said I should pick up the boys instead and take them to training, so he gave me your address. I'm sorry, it didn't cross my mind to contact you first. Is this okay? If not, we can cance—" 

You listen as the man rambles on, the boys waiting (Atsuhiko in particular) impatiently by the door, tugging on Bokuto's hands to grab the man's attention. You cut Bokuto's rambling with a wave of your hand, shooting him an appreciative smile, "No, Bo. It's okay. I'm sure the boys would be upset if you had to cancel training. I trust you enough," you trail off before teasing him with a grin, "You are after all, the great Uncle Bo." 

Your teasing sends warmth to the tips of his ears but he couldn't help but let his mouth widen up to a smile, "I suppose I am. I'll bring them back in one piece, promise." 

"You better!" You let out a laugh, ruffling the hair of your twin boys before bending down to press kisses on their respective foreheads, "Be good to your Uncle Bo, okay? Don't be too hard on him. Have fun!"

They nod their heads and left without another word, you watch them walk away with a smile on your face as they begin chattering with their, just as energetic, Uncle Bo. A part of you was bothered at the fact that your two boys didn't even bother to look back like they used to but, however, that quickly faded when the twins turned around once they neared the apartment complex's elevator, waving at you simultaneously, each yelling out how they will miss you and it instantly warms your heart. They were indeed growing up.

While you returned inside your apartment to continue with preparations for Galaxy Standard's upcoming tour, the trio left the apartment complex and got in Bokuto's car, the man making sure to secure the twins comfortably in the backseat. Hiko whined, practically begging Bokuto to let him sit in front like the big boy that he was, unfortunately, his pleas had fallen on deaf ears as Bokuto drove off. 

As the trio traveled, there wasn't any dull moment within the confinements of the four wheeled vehicle, not even a moment of silence with the twins rambling on about their favorite things to do and adventures they went on, while Bokuto, equally excited to share his own stories.

"Hey Uncle Bo?" Hiko calls out, stopping Bokuto from his own rambling about how he was during his own childhood years. He hums in response as he briefly glances at the rear-view mirror to acknowledge the little boy. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Bokuto eyes widens at the question, spluttering incoherent sentences that made the twins look at him weirdly. He grips onto the steering wheel as he lets out an awkward chuckle, "Why are you asking?"

Hiro shakes his head at his brother, playfully smacking him on the head which causes Hiko to flinch and yelp out, rubbing his head with his palm to soothe the brief pain. "I just wanna know if Uncle Bo has a girlfriend!"

The man chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road as his grip on the steering wheel loosens up a bit, "Nah, no girl."

"Oh good," Hiko starts, a small mischievous smile forming on his lips, "Will you date our mommy then? She needs a boyfriend, you know."

Once again, Bokuto returns to his sputtering state while Hiro lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms against his chest as he gives his twin a look. "I'm telling mommy." 

"You want me to da—date your m—mom?" Bokuto stutters, bewildered. 

Hiko ignores his brother's glares and shrugs his shoulders, "It was Uncle Rei's idea! Mommy was yelling at him the other day and after mommy pinched Uncle Rei's ear, I heard him grumble how mommy needs to ‘loosen up’ and get a boyfriend!"

Bokuto lets out a laugh in amusement, "Well, why not ask your Uncle Rei to date your mom then? Or Uncle Shizuma."

"Uncle Shizuma has a girlfriend," Hiro claims.

Hiko adds, "Uncle Rei said mommy might end up killing him."

Bokuto chuckles, "then, why me?"

Hiko looks at him weirdly, "What do you mean? You're cool!"

"Do you not want mommy as your girlfriend?" Hiro asks, folding his arms across his chest as if to judge his supposed favorite Uncle, the little boy waiting for the correct answer or else he would have to decide that he would no longer call this man his favorite uncle like he had claimed, "She's very pretty. Do you not think she's pretty?"

"I—"

Hiko interrupts Bokuto with a loud huff, "You better think mommy's pretty or else I'm telling Uncle Asuma on you!"

Bokuto lets out a sigh, feeling warmth spread in his cheeks. He didn't know why, despite them being kids, the conversation itself was embarrassing enough, he wonders if the boys would end up telling you the conversation, or worse, Asuma or Reiji, the teasing would be endless. However, not wanting to upset them both, who are looking extremely impatient and upset waiting, he answers, "Yes, yes. Your mother is really pretty."

Hiko nods happily before looking at his brother with a wide smile. Hiro, satisfied with his answer for the time being, tilts his head as he asks, "So will you date her?"

“Nice receive, Hiko!” Bokuto praises with a huge grin while Hiko throws his fists in the air at his achievement, he looks over to the side with a wide smile, “Hiro! ‘Sumsum! Did you see that?” 

Hiro nods his head in response, giving his brother a thumbs up while the man next to Hiro lets out a happy cheer, “Way to go, Hiko! You’re going to be better than your Uncle Bo in no time, even better than me, your Uncle Atsumu.” 

The little boy that stood next to the bleached blonde man, tilts his head back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow, “You’re not our uncle.” 

Bokuto lets out a laugh, Hiko on the other hand, not really understanding what was so funny, decided to mimic his actions anyway. Apparently, acting like Bokuto would make him look as cool. On the other side of the court, Atsumu juts out his lower lip into a pout at being teased, by a kid no less, “Hey, a guy can dream okay. You two will soon call me Uncle too, and you’ll understand that I’m way better than Bo here.” 

“I can’t believe you’re jealous, ‘Tsumu.” Bokuto teases with a grin, tossing the volleyball over to Hiko who receives the ball with ease due to weeks of practice. “You did it again, Hiko! I’m so happy! I can’t wait to tell your uncles and your mom the progress the two of you made.” 

“I’m not jealous,” Atsumu retorts, scrunching up his features in annoyance, “I just can’t believe these kids think you’re better than me when I’m clearly superior.” 

“But Uncle Bo is so cool!” Atsuhiko exclaims defensively, pointing at Atsumu accusingly with his index finger as if to scold the man for disrespecting his favorite Uncle Bo. He adds, “He’s going to date our mommy, you know.” 

Atsumu wiggles his eyebrows at his friend, “Oh?” 

“What? It—It’s not like that!” 

Hiko stomps his feet and drops the volleyball in his grasp, sending a glare at Bokuto. “Why not?” Bokuto just lets out a nervous laugh, receiving a huff from Hiko who then turns his attention over to Atsumu, “Well, do you have a girlfriend?” 

Before Atsumu can respond, Hiro throws his hands in the air and shakes his head at his brother. “You can’t just ask everyone if they have a girlfriend or not so they can date mommy.” 

Sensing the twins about to start arguing, Bokuto rests his hands on Atsuhiko’s shoulders to avert his attention while Atsumu did the same with Atsuhiro. “Let’s go back to practice, okay?” 

“Hey ‘Sumsum?” Hiro calls out after moving away from the man’s grip on his shoulders to grab a volleyball, “Can you teach me how to serve properly?” 

Atsumu nods, walking to the edge of the court with Hiro trailing behind him, picking up an extra volleyball along the way, “Come on then.” 

However before the two of them could walk further to their destination, Atsuhiro tugs on Atsumu’s jersey weakly, a frown etching on his features. He mumbles underneath his breath, his grip on the volleyball weakening, “’Sumsum...I don’t feel so good.” 

Before Atsumu can comprehend what was happening, he catches a glimpse of Atsuhiro collapsing onto the floor behind him. 

“Hiro!” 

[kketilin]

Three Pieces — Chapter 1

Three different hearts, all missing a piece.

This is the story of how three different people fumble through love, all the while they try to fix and connect the pieces of their hearts.

[Chapter 1 of 5]

Collab Together with @pikashadow​! Cheating and Heavy angst warning !!

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32867374/chapters/81562753

Pairing(s): Miyuki Kazuya x Sawamura Eijun | Narumiya Mei x Sawamura Eijun

Tags: Angst / Angst and Hurt/Comfort / Unhealthy relationships / Cheating / Eventual Happy Ending / Introspection / Multiple Endings

SAWAMURA EIJUN

Eijun was loved. 

 Eijun grew up in a loving family, one that cherished him like he was the most precious gem in existence

 he was surrounded by supportive friends that believed in him and helped push him to achieve greater heights

 he was sociable and was often told that he was as bright as the sun, people loved him 

 Never had he felt lonely  yet... 

 Eijun felt empty.  

 He didn't really understand the feeling either

 It wasn't the empty like he didn't receive enough attention from the ones he loved

 He felt a void in his heart that remained wide open no matter how much he was showered with affection and care 

 But it was the empty that felt like something was just missing.

 A part of him felt incomplete, like it needs something more

 He eventually discovered baseball after playing Pawapuro when he was hanging out at Nobu's place.

 The game was very... complex, but he felt an odd feeling of satisfaction when he watched his character pitch from the mound

 (He can't help but be curious, would pitching be that satisfying in real life?)

 It was on his 10th birthday when his family had gifted him with a pitcher's mitt, starting his dream of making it to Koshien and become the best pitcher there is

 Every single pitch he threw was just so satisfying and he felt felt a feeling of contentment after every single ball

 The joy of standing on the mound gave him a feeling of fullness he never felt before

 It was after the first strike he threw towards Nobu's mitt that he knew

 He knew he fell in love with baseball

 But... 

 He failed to realize, rather, he chose to ignore it...

 ..The still empty void in his heart remaining in his heart

 A gap that not even baseball could fulfill

---

“Ne, Harucchi” Eijun asked as he took a sip from his bottle, wiping the sweat off his face during the process “What is love?” 

 “L-Love?! Why are you suddenly asking something like that?” The petite teen stuttered in embarrassment, his entire face tinted pink that matched his hair. 

 Eijun only gave a smile in response before turning back to face the field, his gaze immediately falling on a certain bespectacled catcher crouched behind the home plate wearing his trademark wide annoying grin  

 “Because I don’t know if this is love” he whispered underneath his breath 

 He’d seen it in his Shoujo mangas before

 How a person’s significant other came into their life and completed the empty pieces in their hearts

 How the protagonist's heart always goes doki doki whenever the other's person is around

 How they felt as if their dull life became full of colors the moment their partner came 

 They called it love. 

 It was different from the love he felt for baseball

 (Even he won't kiss a baseball to show affection, that's just gross)

 And while he found it cheesy at first, he couldn't help but wonder

  Was this love he was feeling?

 He was slightly stupid (just slightly) but even he knew it wasn't normal

 Ever since the day Miyuki Kazuya told him that the best pitches are works of art produced by a battery working as one

 Ever since the day he called him ‘partner’ 

 He felt complete. 

 His heart would always start beating like crazy whenever the catcher slung his arm around his neck

 He felt like there were butterflies in his stomach every time the catcher would praise him and his pitches

 He would feel his face reddening as blood rush up to it whenever the catcher teased him with that grin he found so oddly endearing 

 And while he thought (or he was trying to convince himself) that it was solely due to his admiration and respect for the bespectacled catcher, Eijun knew it was something more than that 

 Eijun loved baseball more than anything else, every single ball he pitched slowly filled up the emptiness in him

 It's no exaggeration to say his world revolved around baseball and he left no room for anything else 

 Yet Miyuki Kazuya came and filled the empty gap he thought he had closed

 Miyuki Kazuya completed baseball for him. 

 Was this love?  

  Was he in love with Miyuki Kazuya?  

---

It was the night after he had just been promoted to the first string and most players have already retreated to their beds or practicing inside, leaving him and Miyuki alone in the bullpen 

 He windup and threw his pitch, the ball landing in Miyuki’s mitt with a satisfying smack.

 The older teen stood up and threw the ball back, calling out “that was a nice ball! Last one then we’re done” with a charming boyish grin that made his heart skip a beat 

 He can't help but think it should be illegal to be that handsome

 Eijun watched him crouch back down and he felt his face burning up

 (Thank god it was dark or else Miyuki Kazuya would make fun of his red face right now)

 “Miyuki-senpai” his lips opened without thinking and the words he’d been keeping hidden deep inside slipped off his lips “I think I love you—” 

 Ah crap— he didn't mean to—

 “Alright” 

 Eijun blinked, caught off guard.

 Did he just... accept his confession?

 While he didn’t mean to confess especially when he should be focusing on training even more now that he made it the first string, he was expecting to be turned down or worse, ignored. 

 Never did he expect his confession to be accepted,

 Or for his feelings to even be mutual for that matter

 (Miyuki Kazuya never really showed any signs of interest towards him and he thought the catcher only saw him as a obnoxiously loud kouhai so can you really blame him for being surprised?)

 “H-huh?” 

 “Let’s go out.” 

 Everything that happened afterwards left Eijun in a daze

 Without a moment's notice the older teen was already standing in front of him and he audibly gulped when catcher had closed the distance between the two of them, invading his personal space

 He felt a hand lift his chin and his breath hitched the moment he realized the catcher's lips was only a hair's breadth away 

 (His mind immediately registered how it looked so soft and so kissable)

 Miyuki Kazuya leaned in forward and it didn't take long before he felt warm, soft lips against his own

 Eijun gave up his first kiss that night

  Eijun was happy.

 Really happy.

 He still couldn't believe Miyuki Kazuya agreed to go out with him.

 And honestly?

 He felt like pinching himself or slapping his cheeks, hoping this wasn't a dream.

 (He actually did pinch himself one time during a game, causing his teammates to give him weird looks. But he somehow managed to laugh it off, giving them a bright smile and reassuring them he was alright. Thankfully, they didn't seem to think much of it, calling him an idiot before watching the game again.)

 Even right now...

 He and Miyuki Kazuya (or Miyuki-senpai as he had started calling him (much to his amusement)) sat on top of his bed, talking to each other.

 They weren't doing anything but talking, but he felt so happy.

  So complete.

 He suddenly felt the urge to tell him how happy he was.

 He looked at him, feeling his heart race as he (once again) realized how good-looking he was. And that he was his boyfriend. "Miyuki-senpa—"

 "Kazuya."

 He blinked a few times. "Eh?"

 Why did Miyuki-senpai just say his given name?

 He wasn't that stupid.

 He knew his boyfriend's given name.

 "Call me Kazuya, Eijun." Miyuki-senpai gave him an unreadable look.

 It certainly wasn't the first time, but he couldn't help but wonder what Miyuki-senpai was thinking. It was difficult to tell a lot of the time, especially with his poker face.

 But Miyuki-senpai was his boyfriend.

 And he wanted him to call him by his given name.

 Was it possible to feel happy, excited, and nervous at the same time?

 (Even he didn't know why he felt nervous. It could be because his boyfriend was his senpai. Or maybe it was because he knew (or at least hoped) their relationship will change once he started calling him by his given name.)

 For some reason, his hands felt sweaty. "A-alright K-kazuya-senpai."

 "Pfft. You always say my full name, but you're having trouble saying my given name? Drop the senpai." Kazuya-senpai... Kazuya snickered, giving him an amused grin.

 He wasn't sure whether to feel irritated or relieved. "R-right."

 "Say it, Ei~jun~" Kazuya reached out, pulling him close, causing him to gasp once he realized only a few centimeters separated their lips. He cupped his chin, fingers rubbing his chin, causing him to almost shiver at feeling those fingers so close to his lips.

 Being this close to him was so distracting.

 All he wanted was to lean in and kiss him.

 "K-Kazuya..." He somehow managed not to look at those tempting lips, meeting Kazuya's eyes instead.

 (Would Kazuya even let him if he gave in to the temptation?)

 Kazuya gave him a smug grin. "Louder~ I can't hear you."

 It was obvious Kazuya was enjoying this.

 ... If he were honest, though, a part of him was enjoying it, too.

 (Not the teasing part. But he was definitely enjoying getting to call him by his given name.)

 And he didn't know why.

 Maybe it was because of the teasing.

 Or maybe it was because Kazuya wanted him to say his given name louder.

 But he found himself saying his name much louder than he had intended to. "KAZUYA!"

  "Eijun-kun! it's time for lunch!" Haruichi walked in to their classroom with Furuya and Toujo in tow.

 Eijun put his hands together and bowed down apologetically "Harucchi! Gomen! I'm eating with Kazuya today!"

As much as he wanted to eat lunch with his best friend, he had already promised to eat with Kazuya

 And of course his boyfriend took priority.

 He liked Harucchi, the pink haired batter had always supported him since the beginning,

 But Harucchi can't give him the same kind of joy Kazuya can,

 He can't make him feel so complete,

  So full,

 It was something only his boyfriend could do.

 "Kazuya? You mean Miyuki-senpai?"

 "Since when were you on a first-name basis with Miyuki-senpai, Bakamura?"

 Oh. right.

 They haven't told anyone about their relationship yet,

 Both of them have agreed on keeping quiet for now,

 Kazuya was the starting catcher for the team after all.

 (It was really hard to hold back from yelling to the team during breakfast the day after his confession that they were dating though, he had to pinch his arms in order to not say anything causing him to receive concerned looks from Haruichi and Furuya but he just laughed it off saying he was just still sleepy)

 "I-I uhhh..." he managed to stutter out.

 Eijun wasn't exactly the best with keeping secrets,

 (It's really a surprised no one still found out they were dating after all this time)

 And he didn't really like to keep them.

 Especially from Harucchi of all people.

 But he can't betray Kazuya's trust on him..

 The thought of Kazuya being upset at him made his heart clench.

  He loves Kazuya far too much and he doesn't think he'll be able to handle it.

 Should he just lie instead?

  Lie to Harucchi and his friends?

 That doesn't seem to sit right with Eijun either.

 "Eijun!" a familiar voice called out, interrupting Eijun's thoughts

 A voice that made his chest feel warm,

 He turned to see Kazuya waiting for him out in the hall.

 His heart immediately skips a beat.

 "Ah! Hold on!" Eijun called back, a felt his lips curl into a soft smile reserved only for his boyfriend.

 He turned back to his friends and put his hands together again, repeating his actions from earlier "Sorry guys, I have to go"

  Eijun was so happy.

 Sure, he didn't like having to hide his relationship with Kazuya from his teammates, especially his friends like Harucchi.

 (And he understood why they had to hide it, of course.)

 But other than that, he felt so happy with how his relationship with Kazuya was going.

 "What are you thinking about?"

 Eijun blinked a few times, Kazuya's voice bringing him out of his thoughts, causing him to look over at him.

 To his surprise, Kazuya was... a lot closer than he had been before, causing him to flush.

 They weren't doing anything besides cuddling in his bed, but with the covers over them and how close they were...

 Someone could easily get the wrong idea (or the right idea).

 Remembering belatedly that Kazuya had asked him something, he furrowed his eyebrows. "Sorry. I wasn't listening. What were you saying?"

 "Oh, really?" Kazuya drawled, causing him to blink at the almost... dark look in his eyes.

 (It was probably just his imagination, right?)

 Before he could even think of responding to that, though, Kazuya moved on top of him, hovering above him, causing him to gasp despite himself.

 "And what were you thinking about when I'm here with you?" Kazuya narrowed his eyes.

 Eijun almost gulped.

 Somehow, he had made him... angry?

 Eijun felt tempted to touch Kazuya, but he didn't know if he would let him, especially if Kazuya was angry with him. "I... I was thinking about you, Kazuya."

 Kazuya blinked a few times, his familiar (but also irritatingly good-looking) smirk returning to his face, almost causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Oh? And what about me?"

 "I was..." Eijun took a deep breath before reaching out and touching Kazuya's cheek with one hand. "I was thinking about how happy I am with you. You make me so happy, Kazuya."

 To his relief (and delight), Kazuya allowed his touch. He even seemed to... enjoy it, briefly touching his hand and leaning into it. "You're so sappy," he teased.

 Eijun flushed, shooting him a dirty look when he snickered. "Shut up. It's the truth."

 Kazuya snickered one more time before looking at him with almost... soft eyes, taking his breath away. "I'm happy to hear that. Really, Eijun."

 Eijun wasn't imagining things, right?

 Was that almost... soft look just for him?

 He tried to keep his attention on Kazuya's eyes, not wanting to look away from those almost soft eyes.

 (Really, he did.)

 But Kazuya being this close to him was so distracting.

 His eyes had a mind of their own, looking at Kazuya's lips.

 He cleared his throat, looking up at Kazuya's eyes again. But from the knowing smirk on his face, he knew Kazuya had noticed his reaction. "Kazuya, I..."

 "I know."

 He blinked a few times. "Eh?"

 "I know." Kazuya gave him a grin before leaning in and kissing him, causing his eyes to widen.

 Did Kazuya know him that well?

 Deciding to think about it later, Eijun wrapped his arms around him, responding eagerly to the kiss.

 Kazuya grinned into the kiss, obviously finding his reaction funny, almost causing him to huff.

 But any thoughts of huffing or Kazuya finding his reaction funny disappeared at Kazuya licking his lower lip, causing him to let out a surprised sound despite himself.

 When Kazuya did it again, he parted his lips, allowing his tongue inside his mouth.

 Kazuya's tongue darted forward into his mouth, exploring it for a couple of moments before touching his tongue, causing him to moan.

 Kazuya obviously liked his reaction, as he touched his tongue again, tightening his grip around him when he moaned louder.

 Someone could walk in at any moment and find them kissing.

 But Eijun didn't care.

 He didn't want Kazuya to stop kissing him.

 All he could concentrate on were his soft lips and the warm body above his own.

 And of course, the feeling of being so complete.

 He enjoyed it so much that when Kazuya pulled away a few moments later, he pulled him back in, almost grinning at Kazuya's surprised sound as their lips met again.

 He tightened his grip around him, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip.

 Much to his disappointment, Kazuya didn't let him in, causing him to whine.

 Eijun whined again, licking his lower lip again, belatedly registering a familiar sound.

 Not that the sound was as important as kissing Kazuya.

 And he probably would've ignored it and continued kissing him.

 If it weren't for a familiar voice.

 "What the hell?"

 They froze, Kazuya quickly pulling away and looking in the direction where the voice came from.

 To Eijun's horror, Kuramochi-senpai stood next to his bed, his eyes narrowed.

 "K-Kuramochi-senpai, this is..."

 Kazuya grinned at Kuramochi-senpai, not looking worried. Or maybe his poker face was hiding it? "Kuramochi, I didn't hear you come in. I was too busy giving Eijun here attention." He leaned in, kissing Eijun's cheek while keeping his eyes on Kuramochi, causing Eijun's cheeks to flush. "He missed me a lot today."

 Kuramochi-senpai clicked his tongue, looking irritated. "Seriously, Miyuki? You were kissing him while the door was unlocked? What if someone else had come in?"

 "But that's what makes it fun." Kazuya's grin widened. He laughed as Kuramochi-senpai glowered at him. "You're right, of course. We'll do better next time." He looked at Eijun, a teasing grin on his face. "Won't we, Eijun?"

 Eijun's cheeks turned pinker. "N-Next time?"

 Was Kazuya not worried at all about Kuramochi-senpai finding out about them?

 Kuramochi-senpai huffed, still glowering at Kazuya. "There won't be a next time if I have any say about it."

 Kazuya laughed again, kissing Eijun's cheek one more time before moving off him and out of bed. "So scary. I didn't know you cared this much," he teased.

 "Shut up!"

 Kazuya shook his head, looking amused before looking at Eijun. "Well, since Kuramochi's back, I'll get going. Good night." He winked at Eijun and at Kuramochi-senpai, causing Kuramochi-senpai to click his tongue again.

 And then, Kazuya left, closing the door behind him with one last wink.

 Eijun sat up on his bed, looking nervously at Kuramochi-senpai.

 What was he supposed to do now?

 "Are you sure about this?"

 Eijun blinked a few times. "Eh?"

 To his surprise, Kuramochi-senpai... didn't look angry with him.

 "Are you sure about this relationship with Miyuki, Sawamura?" Kuramochi-senpai gave him a serious look.

 He furrowed his eyebrows. "Do you mean because he's the main catcher?"

 Kuramochi-senpai rolled his eyes. "That's not what I mean. I just..." He huffed. "You know as well as I do what kind of person Miyuki can be. I just want to make sure you've thought this through."

 ... Not only was Kuramochi-senpai not angry with him, but he... was also looking out for him?

 Was something wrong with him?

 But even if something wasn't wrong with him, he...

 Eijun felt warmth in his chest at the thought of Kuramochi-senpai looking out for him. "I'm sure, Kuramochi-senpai." He gave him a bright smile. "I love Kazuya, and I'm willing to do anything for him."

 Kuramochi-senpai stared at him, as if he were trying to see how serious he was.

 He hoped Kuramochi-senpai could tell he was serious about this.

 Serious about Kazuya.

 "I see. Then that's alright."

 Eijun blinked a few times before beaming. "Eh? It is? You're... alright with us being together?"

 "I wouldn't say I'm entirely pleased you two are together." Kuramochi-senpai huffed before sighing. "But you seem serious about this." He clicked his tongue. "About him."

 Eijun nodded, feeling relieved. "I am! Thank you very much, Kuramochi-senpai!"

 "But..." Kuramochi-senpai glowered at him, causing him to almost gulp. "Don't do anything on my bed. Or you and Miyuki will regret it."

 He nodded a few times. "We won't, senpai, I promise!"

 Kuramochi-senpai huffed again before turning around and walking to his desk, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

 Kuramochi-senpai was so scary sometimes.

 But he felt relieved Kuramochi-senpai realized how serious he was about Kazuya and their relationship.

 (Did that mean Kuramochi-senpai wouldn't tell anyone about their relationship?)

 He furrowed his eyebrows.

 What did Kuramochi-senpai mean when he wanted to know if he had thought this relationship with Kazuya through?

 Well, he supposed Kuramochi-senpai had a point, especially if he remembered how love could affect people in his shoujo manga.

 But he would be alright.

 He loved Kazuya.

 And he was willing to do anything for him.

 As long as it meant they were still together.

  He's been dating Kazuya for several weeks now and every moment of it was pure bliss

 He was in euphoria and was savoring the feeling of completeness

 The fullness Kazuya makes him feel

 But it somehow felt wrong. 

 He didn't know when it started to feel this way

 Eijun gave and gave everything and anything to Kazuya but Kazuya never gave anything in return

 No.. Kazuya did give back, but it always felt like it wasn't for him

 It felt like Kazuya's heart belonged to someone else

 Even when he was settled on his bed with his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his waist as he gets peppered with light kisses, it just felt so wrong

 So different 

 It felt like it was meant for someone else

 Someone who wasn’t him. 

 Of course, he just shrugged it off

 After all, he was Kazuya's boyfriend

 He was the one who Kazuya was dating

 Kazuya did accept his confession that night

 (It felt like a dream and even now Eijun still can't believe his accidental confession was accepted)

 Thinking about that night made Eijun's blood rush to his face

 “Kazuya,” Eijun turned his face to look at the catcher 

 “Hm?”  

 “I love you” 

 “...Yeah, thanks” Was all the catcher replied before returning his lips to his neck

 Come to think of it... Kazuya has never told him he likes him in return, has he?

 Even when he confessed, Kazuya never said he liked him back did he?

 Does Kazuya really feel the same way?

 Of course he does,

 They were dating after all.

 Kazuya does love him

 His boyfriend just needs... time before he could be honest

 Kazuya was a very private person after all

 He's just being ridiculously insecure  

  ...Right?

---

From: Kazuya💕✨

Subject: I can't make it

Sorry Eijun, something came up again and I can't make it. I'll make it up to you next time

 Eijun reread the message displayed on his phone screen again and sighed for the nth time in a row.  

 Kazuya couldn't make it to their date, again.

 It was already the third time he had seen the exact same mail from his boyfriend,

 And it's always "something came up" so he can't make it.

 Which was weird, really weird, considering how much of a planner Kazuya is.

 What could possibly happen for him to lay off his plans?

   Their plans? 

  Not that he was doubting Kazuya, of course. 

  Maybe a team member really just needed his help, or starting catcher duties, 

  Or it might even be family matters. 

  But he'd been really looking forward to this date with Kazuya. 

  While they do see each other on a daily basis in practice, lately Eijun could feel like there was... something in between them,

  Something he can't quite put a finger on.

  (Their relationship hasn't changed at all though, Eijun knew he was just probably being uselessly paranoid) 

  So, he had hoped this date would clear whatever was between them, or, at least, rid of his unfounded insecurities.

  But it looks like that wasn't possible now.

  Unconsciously, he let out another sigh. 

  "Seriously, can you stop sighing already?" A voice he barely registered familiar grumbled from his side. 

  Eijun turned his head and his eyes immediately widened at seeing familiar platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes staring right back at him.  

  "N-NARUMYA MEI!" He pointed a finger at the said ace pitcher as his jaw dropped, stuttering in surprised. 

  "You're that brat from Seidou, and it's Narumiya-senpai to you." He paused for a moment and looked at Eijun as if he were... studying him?  

 Narumiya was studying him? Why? 

  "So? What are you doing here?" The blonde gave him an awfully familiar unreadable look "Waiting for a date?" 

  "No, I'm just about to lea— why the hell do you even care?!?" 

  Seriously, what was with this guy? Prying into someone else's business like that...

 And technically he was about to leave, seeing his date couldn't make it

  He turned away, about to leave when Narumiya opened his lips again, about to speak

  "Hmm” He hummed and placed a finger on his chin as if trying to assess the situation “Kazuya bailed on your date, didn’t he?" 

  Eijun whipped his head towards the blonde and immediately tried to defend his boyfriend by reflex "Something just came up! He didn't bail on anything!" 

  How did Narumiya even know it was Kazuya he was waiting for? 

  Even his own teammates (save for Kuramochi-senpai) and friends didn't even know 

  So how did an outsider of all people know— 

  "So It is Kazuya you were waiting for!"  

 For a split second he thought saw Narumiya scowl at him before it was quickly replaced by a triumphant smirk 

 Was he seeing things...? 

 He scanned the blonde’s face again, seeing no signs of a scowl on the latter’s face 

 He was sure he saw Narumiya scowl 

 Why would he though? 

 (He was sure he didn’t say anything rude or unusual (not that he was planning to though, he’s just aware he has a history of doing so) to receive such a thing) 

 Eijun decided to shrug it off, thinking it was just his eyes playing tricks on him and returned his attention back to what Narumiya was saying 

 “You guys are dating, aren’t you?” 

 “N-No! I mean—” He immediately tried to defend again 

 Wait— Narumiya didn't know?

 But he just said—

  Oh.

 The blonde had tricked him into admitting it.

 He can’t believe he fell for that and gave it away 

 Mentally scolding himself, he tried to come up with some sort of excuse but the blonde waved a finger, eyes glinting mischievously “No use making excuses, You're a terrible liar.”  

 Eijun reluctantly nodded with a sigh to which Narumiya grinned triumphantly, eyeing him once again

 “You’re free now though, right?”  

 “Huh? Well yeah I guess... wait why are you even—” 

 Eijun raised a brow at the question 

 Why was he asking? 

 It’s none of his business anyways whether or not he was free 

 “Let’s go on a date then! ♡” the blonde grinned 

 He looked at Narumiya in disbelief “Excuse me?” 

 Was he... serious? 

 A date? 

 With him, an enemy?

 Even after he just found out he was dating Kazuya? 

 What was this guy thinking? 

 “I said, let’s go on a date right now” Narumiya repeated, pronouncing each syllable slowly “If you still didn't understand that then there must be something wrong with your ears” 

 No, he heard that, alright.

 (His ears are perfectly fine, thank you very much.)

 But a date?

 He remained staring at the blonde agape

 He suddenly felt his arm getting tugged and looked down to see Narumiya's arm curled around his, trying to pull him  

 “Well, you’re paying for your own food though!” 

 “Haah?! I didn’t even say yes—” 

 “Kidding! C’mon I’ll pay for your food!” 

 The blonde suddenly pulled him with so much force that Eijun nearly lost balance and fall but Narumiya proceeded to tug on his arm and pull him wherever

 “Hold on!” 

 Despite his protests the blonde didn’t listen but weirdly enough, he found himself letting Narumiya drag him around 

 Well, a single ‘date’ wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

 There's nothing between them anyways,

 Just a friendly date

---

Eijun didn't know how he got into these situations.

 ... Okay, so he knew a little bit.

 As he wouldn't be out here in the first place if Kazuya didn't promise to go out on a date with him.

 But Kazuya texted him, letting him know he couldn't make it.

 And that something came up.

 (That had been happening a lot lately.)

 But hanging out with Narumiya Mei (of all people) just because Kazuya couldn't make it?

 Narumiya was the enemy.

 Was he that starved for attention?

 (He didn't think he was, but he was hanging out with him. And if he were honest, the last time they had a... 'date', it wasn't that unpleasant.)

 They were at the same café Narumiya had taken him to for their last 'date'.

 It seemed Narumiya was a regular here.

 Narumiya had joked it was a perfect spot for dates, and he had even winked at him.

 Which he didn't understand.

 Was Narumiya saying he should take Kazuya here?

 Or was he saying something else?

 (And why did he wink at him? Was something wrong with him?)

 "What do you like about Kazuya, Ei-chan?"

 Eijun almost choked on his drink, although he wasn't sure if it was because of the question about Kazuya or the nickname. "Eh?"

 Narumiya gave him an amused look. "What do you like about Kazuya?"

 "No... I heard that." Eijun furrowed his eyebrows, causing Narumiya to raise an eyebrow. "Why are you calling me 'Ei-chan'?"

 Narumiya grinned cheekily at him. "It's a cute nickname, isn't it?"

 "That's not the point! We're not that close!"

 Narumiya sipped his drink. "It's just a nickname." He smirked. "Unless you'd rather me call you 'Eijun'? Does Kazuya do that?"

 Eijun huffed. "Fine, whatever! You can keep calling me 'Ei-chan'! It's a nickname I'm used to anyway!"

 "I'm happy to hear that, Ei-chan. It's really the perfect nickname for a cute guy like you." Narumiya winked at him.

 (Again with the winking. Seriously, was something wrong with him?)

 Eijun resisted the urge to huff again. "Why are you asking me about my relationship with Kazuya?"

 Narumiya gave him an unreadable look, causing him to stare as it resembled the one Kazuya gave him sometimes. "I'm just curious." He shrugged, sipping his drink again. "You must really like him to put up with his treatment of you. That or you're just stupid."

 "What did you say? Don't call me stupid!"

 Narumiya gave him a scrutinizing look. "Do you really like Kazuya that much? He didn't even show up to you guys' date."

 He wasn't sure why, but he almost gulped at the way Narumiya looked at him, as if Narumiya was trying to figure out all his secrets. "I... I told you! Something came up! Who are you to judge my relationship—"

 "I'm not judging you or your relationship with Kazuya." Narumiya rolled his eyes at his huff. "And I am older than you. You should treat me with more respect."

 Narumiya was so annoying sometimes.

 And yet, sometimes, he reminded him of Kazuya.

 Eijun didn't know what it was exactly.

 But both enjoyed teasing him.

 And both had amazing poker faces at times.

 And while Kazuya had stopped annoying him about showing him respect ever since they started dating (at least in private), the way Narumiya tried to get him to show him respect was just like what Kazuya used to do.

 Eijun scowled, tempted to cross his arms in front of his chest. "My relationship with Kazuya has nothing to do with you! I'm happy with him!"

 "You are, huh?" Narumiya's eyebrows furrowed. "Why do you stay with him when you could be with someone who will treat you better?" He winked again, gesturing to himself.

 Why did Narumiya gesture toward himself?

 It wasn't as if he were ignoring him.

 Narumiya didn't need to tell him to look at him while they were talking.

 This guy was so weird sometimes.

 Eijun's scowl remained on his face. "You wouldn't understand."

 "Oh, really?" Narumiya drawled, leaning in closer and raising an eyebrow, causing him to stare as he remembered multiple times when Kazuya had done the same exact thing. "Try me."

 Eijun tried to speak.

 (Really, he did.)

 But for some reason, he found it difficult to speak with those dark blue eyes watching him, an almost dangerous gleam in them.

 He cleared his throat, tempted to look away. "I..." He looked down at his cup, his eyes softening, missing the way those dark blue eyes seemed to darken even more. "I love him." He looked up at him, smiling softly. "Kazuya may have let me down a lot, but I know something important must have come up."

 "And you're going to forgive him? Just like that?" Narumiya scoffed.

 He furrowed his eyebrows. "Kazuya can't help it if something important came up. He's busy."

 Narumiya clicked his tongue. "Busy enough not to meet up with you? You're his boyfriend!"

 ... It hurt.

 Narumiya's words hurt him.

 Not because Narumiya was insulting Kazuya, although that was part of the reason.

 But because... it was the truth.

 What could be more important than one of their dates?

 And yet, Kazuya was the main catcher.

 Or maybe something happened with his family?

 "I don't like it either. But I can't be selfish if he's busy." Eijun smiled softly again, causing Narumiya to make a face. "I'm willing to do anything for him. I love him."

 Narumiya pursed his lips, scowling for some reason. "He really doesn't deserve you." When Eijun glared at him, he grinned cheekily, gesturing toward himself. "I could probably treat you better than Kazuya ever could."

 Eijun blinked a few times. "But I'm not dating you. I'm dating Kazuya."

 Why would Narumiya even say something like that?

 Sure, Kazuya wasn't the best boyfriend.

 But he still loved him.

 They were making their relationship work.

 And he... was happy.

 Narumiya pouted for some reason before giving him another cheeky grin. "Maybe I should give you my number in case this kind of thing happens again."

 "It won't. And I wouldn't call you even if you did give me your number." Eijun huffed.

 Narumiya's grin remained on his face. "You know you want to see me again, Ei-chan." He puffed his chest out. "Especially someone as handsome as me."

 Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. "What does that have to do with anything? You're still the enemy."

 "But we can become friends." Narumiya leaned closer, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Or more."

 Eijun snorted, picking up his drink. "You becoming one of my best friends? Like that will ever happen."

 Narumiya leaned back in his seat, pouting.

 He could've sworn he had seen a frustrated look on his face at one point.

 But that was probably just his imagination.

 He didn't know Narumiya that well.

 And why would Narumiya feel frustrated?

 It made no sense.

---

Eijun tried not to think about any negative thoughts when he was with Kazuya.

 He was enjoying his relationship with him so much.

 He didn't want to let those thoughts overshadow his relationship with him.

 The only thing he wanted was to enjoy his current relationship with him.

 He wasn't good when it came to thinking deeply about something anyway.

 So what if Kazuya hadn't told him his feelings for him yet?

 So what if it felt wrong somehow?

 He loved Kazuya, and he was willing to wait for him.

 Kazuya was still dating him after all.

 He could be patient.

 And maybe he was being selfish, but he wanted... more with Kazuya.

 So he leaned in, kissing Kazuya on the lips, Kazuya responding a moment later.

 He kissed him with his lips for a few moments before licking his lower lip, almost grinning when Kazuya parted his lips.

 His tongue darted into his mouth, Kazuya moaning and tightening his grip around him when their tongues touched.

 They pulled away several moments later, breathing heavily.

 Not wanting to stop, Eijun pulled him back in, letting out a pleased sound as Kazuya pulled him closer.

 This time, Kazuya's tongue darted into his mouth, Eijun moaning and tightening his grip around him when their tongues touched.

 Eijun pulled away a few moments later, peppering Kazuya's face with kisses, causing Kazuya to laugh.

 "I want to see you." Kazuya tugged on the bottom of his shirt, as if letting him know what he was trying to say.

 Eijun flushed, but he pulled away, taking his shirt off, not missing the way Kazuya's eyes lit up.

 Was that reaction really for him?

 He mentally shook his head, pushing that thought away.

 Of course it was for him.

 What was he thinking?

 Kazuya didn't touch him again, studying his bare chest and stomach, as if he had never seen it before.

 It wasn't... bad.

 The way Kazuya was staring at him.

 (Maybe even liking what he saw?)

 Kazuya wrapped his arms around his waist again, his warm fingers touching his bare skin almost making him gasp.

 "You look good. Really good."

 Before he could reply, Kazuya leaned in, kissing his neck, causing him to gasp despite himself.

 He moaned as Kazuya started placing kisses up and down his neck, Kazuya's laugh against his skin making goosebumps form.

 He gasped again as Kazuya touched his nipples, moaning when Kazuya started pinching it. "Kazuya!"

 "Does that feel good?" Kazuya pulled away, his eyes darkened with lust.

 Eijun didn't want to admit that it did feel good.

 And that he didn't want Kazuya to stop.

 So instead of admitting it, he leaned in, kissing him, almost grinning when Kazuya responded eagerly to it.

 Eijun pulled away a few moments later, grinning at Kazuya's protesting sound before leaning back in, giving him such a long and hard kiss that it made Kazuya moan.

 This time, Kazuya pulled away a few moments later, letting go of him to take his shirt off.

 It certainly wasn't his first time seeing Kazuya shirtless.

 But usually, other people were around.

 And they were usually bathing or changing clothes.

 Having a shirtless Kazuya this close to him in his room without any other people around...

 It made him want more.

 Eijun leaned in, kissing his neck, causing Kazuya to hum and tilt his head, giving him better access.

 He grinned against his neck, loving how Kazuya was letting him do this, placing kisses up and down his neck.

 Kazuya moaned when he touched his nipples, tightening his grip around him.

 Eijun pinched his nipples, starting to place gentle kisses up and down his chest, gasping when Kazuya pulled him on top of him.

 He pulled away enough to look him in the eyes, grinning devilishly. "Does that feel good, Kazuya?" Keeping his eyes on him, he leaned back in, nipping his ear, causing Kazuya to cry out.

 "Hiro!"

 Eijun froze, feeling Kazuya tense under him, causing him to pull away and look at him.

 He looked at Kazuya for an explanation, but Kazuya wasn't looking at him. "'Hiro'? Who's that?"

 Because he wasn't that stupid.

 He knew this 'Hiro-san' had to be a person.

 Why did Kazuya call their name out?

 (Instead of his.)

 Kazuya finally looked back at him several moments later, giving him an almost... apologetic look. "I didn't mean to..."

 Kazuya was dating him.

 He should be calling out his name.

 Not this 'Hiro-san'.

 Eijun remembered what he had been thinking about earlier.

 How he had felt like Kazuya's touches were for someone else.

 How... it had felt wrong.

 "Kazuya, who's that?" His heart raced as he waited for Kazuya's answer.

 What was he supposed to do if Kazuya told him he was going to break up with him for this 'Hiro-san'?

 He didn't want that!

 This feeling of being complete...

 It would go away if Kazuya broke up with him.

 Kazuya's almost apologetic look disappeared, leaving a cool one in its place. "That's none of your business."

 Eijun almost winced at his cool look.

 Maybe he shouldn't have asked?

 But he didn't care about that.

 He wanted to make sure Kazuya wouldn't break up with him.

 That came first.

 "Then I don't have to know."

 Kazuya blinked a few times, clearly not expecting that. "What do you...?"

 "You can think of me as this 'Hiro-san'." Eijun tried to smile at him, hoping Kazuya couldn't tell how scared he was.

 But instead of looking reassured, Kazuya furrowed his eyebrows. "But you..."

 Eijun smiled, and this time it was more genuine. "I really don't mind. You can think of me as your 'Hiro-san'."

 Kazuya gave him an unreadable look. "Are you sure? Because we can end this—"

 "No!"

 Kazuya winced at his loud voice, furrowing his eyebrows again. "No?"

 "We don't have to break up." Eijun tried not to sound scared or desperate. "It's alright with me. As long as..." He took a deep breath. "As long as I'm yours."

 Kazuya gave him another unreadable look. "And you're alright with this?" he asked slowly.

 Eijun nodded a few times. "I'm happy with our current relationship. So you can..." He tried to smile again. "You can think of me as your 'Hiro-san'."

 "I see. Then if you're alright with it, I guess we don't have to break up."

 Eijun almost breathed a sigh of relief.

 They weren't going to break up.

 Kazuya would still be his.

 He'll still be able to feel complete.

 Sure, he wanted Kazuya to look at him and only him.

 But he couldn't force Kazuya to return his feelings.

 (Especially when Kazuya was thinking of someone else.)

 And he was still dating Kazuya.

 As long as Kazuya was his, that was enough.

 That was enough for him.

 Because he didn't want to think about Kazuya leaving him and having to feel so incomplete.

---

It was wrong. 

 Eijun knew it was all so wrong.  

 Agreeing to let his boyfriend think of him as someone else, 

 As this “Hiro-san’, and not as him, Sawamura Eijun, his lover  

 It was wrong. 

 He knew he shouldn’t be doing this; He was Kazuya’s boyfriend, his lover, his partner.  

 He wanted Kazuya to look only at him,  

 To think only about him 

 But the moment he heard Kazuya call out someone else’s name, he felt his entire world get shaken up 

 All this time... Kazuya had loved someone else 

 Someone who isn’t him.  

 Kazuya’s heart didn’t belong to him 

 It was never his. 

 Why did Kazuya even accept his confession? Agree to go out with him? 

 Did Kazuya ever truly... like him? 

 Was this why not once he had told Eijun those three words he’d been dying to hear? 

 What about the times when he teased Eijun with those tempting lips? 

 Those soft, loving looks he would give Eijun from time to time? 

 The times he told Eijun he was really glad to hear Eijun admit he made him happy? 

 Was all of those a lie...? 

 (Deep inside he had hoped those were truly for him and him only even when he knew it was all for someone else) 

 Maybe this was why he had been feeling there was something different between their relationship, 

 Why he had felt that all those kisses were not for him 

 Because it really wasn’t, 

 It was all for this ‘Hiro-san’ Kazuya had called out. 

 It was wrong but... 

 The feeling of completeness... 

 He didn’t want to lose it; he didn’t want it to go away. 

 And he loved Kazuya, 

 He was willing to do anything and everything just for him. 

 Even when his boyfriend breathily whispered “Hiro” in between their kisses, 

 Even when he would watch how his boyfriend closed his eyes as he kissed down his neck, softly moaning “Hiro” over and over again, 

 It was fine, 

 Eijun was just fine.  

 (Sure, he spent several sleepless nights at first but he eventually got over it and learned to accept reality) 

 They were still dating, and the feeling of being so complete was still there, 

 Kazuya was still his, 

 And that was enough for him 

 He suddenly felt warm lips against his own, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

 He immediately responded to the kiss yet all his doubts were still lingering at the back of his mind. 

 “What’s got you distracted?” Kazuya breathed out once their lips separated 

 Eijun shook his head in response “It’s nothing, sorry.” 

 Eijun didn’t want to lie to Kazuya, 

 But he can’t tell him either that he was thinking about how wrong it all is,  

 How unfair it feels. 

 But he was the one who suggested it in the first place, he had no right to complain. 

 Kazuya stared at him for what felt like hours and Eijun thought he’d try to get him tell the truth, which, thankfully, he didn’t and proceeded to connect their lips together once again 

 The catcher licked his bottom lip, asking for access which Eijun granted. He felt Kazuya’s tongue explore the inside of his mouth for a while before it touched his own, making him moan. 

 Their tongues danced with other and while Eijun would normally give in to pleasure, 

 He couldn’t. 

 Not when thoughts of how Kazuya called out someone else’s name instead of his flooded his mind 

 Was this how ‘Hiro-san’ would kiss him? 

 Was this how ‘Hiro-san’ would act? 

 Was he doing it right? 

 Being ‘Hiro-san’ for Kazuya... 

  Was he doing it all right? 

---

From: Narumiya Mei

Subject: Let’s go on another date!

Are you free tomorrow, Ei-chan? Let’s go on another date if you are! ♡

  To: Narumiya Mei

Subject: Sure

Sure, it’s our off day tomorrow. What time?

  From: Narumiya Mei

Subject: Are you serious?

Eh? Wait really?

  To: Narumiya Mei

Subject: None

Do you want to go or not?

  From: Narumiya Mei

Subject: Let’s go!

I do I do!!! I was just surprised you agreed so easily. 10:30 at the bus stop near Seidou.

 He didn’t know what he was thinking when he found himself agreeing when Narumiya had asked if they could go on another one of their ‘dates’ again 

 Narumiya was their enemy   

 And he really shouldn’t be hanging out with him especially right before the start of the summer tournament 

 (If Kazuya had showed up to their dates in the first place, he wouldn’t have been dragged into 'dates’ by the blonde more than twice and wouldn’t have even exchanged contacts with the ace pitcher) 

 But even so... if he was being honest, hanging out with Narumiya had been fun 

 And really, it served as a good distraction, especially with all that’s going on with Kazuya... 

 Sure, he was too arrogant and haughty, 

 He kept asking Eijun about his relationship with Kazuya which he found irritating, 

  He'd often gesture to himself and try to touch him, or his hand at least, which was really weird, 

 (And there was all that random winking. Seriously, were his eyelids alright ?) 

 And there were moments where he’d remind Eijun of Kazuya, 

 But after spending a bit more time with him ever since their first ‘date’ 

 He found Narumiya... slightly likable, just slightly. 

 There would be moments were Narumiya was actually... sweet 

 Caring even. 

 Which, weirded him out every time, 

 He never expected that the Narumiya Mei had such a soft side to him, especially with how much he declares himself as the king. 

 “Ei-chan!”  

 He turned to see Narumiya making his way to him. The blonde was wearing a black top over a black and red gingham shirt paired with ripped denim jeans and maroon red sneakers. 

  "Sorry, were you waiting long?" He panted, trying to catch his breath after rushing all the way to him 

  Did Narumiya just... apologize?  

  He didn't even think the word 'sorry' existed in the blonde's dictionary 

  And why was he even in a rush? He's exactly right on time. 

  Was this even the real Narumiya Mei?  

  Maybe it's just an imposter trying to trick him... 

  The Mei he knows, or at least, have heard about was not someone who would not apologize at all 

   (Maybe even say he should be grateful he gave some of his precious time to him) 

  Eijun suddenly realized he'd been lost in thought and hadn't answered when he noticed the concerned look Narumiya had 

  "It's fine, I just got here myself" he smiled. 

  For some reason Narumiya turned away and Eijun noticed his ears were red, probably from all the running 

 “A-anyways!”Narumiya turned back to him again, clearing his throat in the process, “There’s this new café not too far from here! Let’s go!” 

 “A new café?” He tilted his head slightly as he asked 

 “Mhm” Narumiya hummed agreeingly “I heard it has a great romantic atmosphere as well” He turned his head to wink at him 

 A romantic atmosphere? 

 Why did Narumiya tell him that? 

 (And there’s that wink again! Why does he keep doing that?) 

 They made their way to the café, holding small talk along the way 

 At some point Narumiya had even joked about how “There’s other guys who can treat you much better than Kazuya does!! Just look around you!” as he gestured to himself for some weird reason he doesn’t know 

 Seriously, what was Narumiya even trying to say? 

 He doesn’t get it. 

 Before he knew it, they’d already arrive at the café. It wasn’t that far from Seidou and was only a few minutes' walk from the bus stop. 

 Narumiya eagerly walked ahead him, opening the door first only to freeze on the spot. 

 ...What happened to him? 

 Why did he suddenly stop? 

 Curiously, he glanced over the blonde’s shoulder, following Narumiya’s eyes to the counter where an eerily familiar bespectacled brunette had his lips interlocked with the barista over the counter 

 That hair... that pair of glasses... 

 Eijun felt his heart stop as realization hit him 

 Was... was that Kazuya...? 

 Narumiya turned to him, eyes widened with emotions he couldn’t understand “Isn’t that Kazuya...?” 

 “Oh.” he stared blanky “It is Kazuya.” 

 His eyes drifted downwards to the barista’s chest, his nametag hanging from the straps of his apron 

 ‘Nakamura Hiro’ 

  Ah.  

 So that’s it, 

 He’s ‘Hiro-san’. 

 The guy who Kazuya loves. 

 The guy his boyfriend loves. 

 He turned around, about to leave when a hand suddenly grabbed his arm 

 “You’re just going to leave?!” Narumiya hissed; his blue eyes frighteningly dark “Your boyfriend is literally kissing someone else and you’re just going to leave?” 

 Why was Narumiya so upset...? 

 Sure, to others, it might be pretty alarming. 

 But it’s Kazuya and his ‘Hiro-san’ 

 He had no right to interfere. 

 He placed his hand on top of the blonde’s, trying to calm him down, and gave him a reassuring smile “Yeah? It’s fine y’know.”  

 “Fine?! How is that fine?!” 

 “...Because it is, Kazuya loves ‘Hiro-san’, I knew that already.” Eijun hoped Narumiya wouldn’t notice how his voice slightly trembled  

 Narumiya gaped at him for a moment as he tried to process what he had just said “You knew Kazuya liked someone else and you’re still dating him?!?” He suddenly felt the grip around his arm tightening and for a moment Eijun thought it might leave a bruise “How are you fine with that?!?” 

 “Because I love him.” 

 It wasn’t a lie. 

 It hurt, but it wasn’t a lie. 

 He loved Kazuya. 

 As long as they’re together then he’s fine, 

 He’s fine even if Kazuya loved someone else. 

 “I love him so it’s fine—”     

Narumiya suddenly pulled his arm causing Eijun to yelp in surprise, and proceeded to drag them somewhere more private, away from the café. 

 “Stop lying to yourself!” Narumiya roared making him wince at the sudden volume “You’re not fine! There’s no way you’re just fine!”  

 “I’m not—” He felt something wet dripping down his cheek. 

 Was these... tears?  

 “See?” Narumiya’s voice sounded so pained and so full of pity “You’re not okay...” 

 In a blink of an eye, he felt strong, slender hands around him, hugging him comfortingly. His vision blurred with tears. 

 He felt his throat tighten as tears streamed down his face but even so, Eijun still tried to convince himself with the same lie over and over again,

  That he was just fine.

 “Leave him.” Narumiya suddenly spoke in a demanding tone “Leave him already.” 

 Eijun immediately pushed the blonde way “NO!” 

 “Why?! You’re just hurting yourself!”     

Narumiya’s dark eyes darkened even more 

 “Because it’ll hurt more if Kazuya leaves me” 

 The feeling of completeness, 

 It’ll be gone if Kazuya leaves him. 

 And never did Eijun want to feel empty ever again. 

 It was wrong, 

 But he was fine with that. 

 It was like a rose with thorns, 

 Loving Kazuya was beautiful... 

 ...Even if it hurts. 

 “As long as Kazuya’s still mine, it’s fine.” Eijun answered sharply 

---

Eijun... wasn't doing well.

 The summer tournament finals loss was a bitter pill to swallow.

 Especially when he knew it was his fault they lost.

 No one outwardly blamed him or even looked at him as if they did, but he could tell they did.

 It was in the way everyone made pointed comments about the loss, especially around him...

 Especially the comments about how they had gotten so close...

 And they had.

 They were one out away from Koushien.

 One out away from getting their revenge against Inashiro.

 And he had blown it.

 None of his senpai had scolded him, but they also didn't tell him it wasn't his fault.

 And while that was a bitter pill to swallow, he had accepted that it was his fault they lost.

 And felt determined to learn from it.

 (As far as he was concerned, everyone blaming him for the loss was a good thing. They easily could've tried to reassure him and tell him it wasn't his fault. That he was only a first year and couldn't help it. And that would've made him feel worse. Like... they didn't trust him enough.)

 His pitching wasn't the best after the summer tournament finals, but he could still pitch.

 And that was the most important thing.

 Unlike now.

 He had the yips.

 He understood everyone wanted to get stronger and join the first string.

 He really did.

 But his baseball career could be ending, and it seemed like none of them... cared.

 His teammates hadn't approached him.

 Or said any kind words.

 As if they were... enjoying his rare silence.

 (Was he really that annoying?)

 It was at times like this when he felt grateful for his relationship with Kazuya.

 Sure, it still wasn't the most ideal relationship.

 (The image of Kazuya kissing Hiro-san never seemed to leave his mind no matter how many times he tried not to think about it.)

 But they were still together.

 And even if Kazuya didn't love him back, he still cared about him.

 Of course, he didn't know how much Kazuya cared about him.

 But at least they were still together.

 That was what was important.

 ... Or so he thought.

 Even since he had gotten the yips, he started doubting everything.

 His worth as a pitcher.

 (Which wasn't much right now. He was painfully aware of that.)

 His standing on the team.

 If he could pitch again.

 If he could pitch to the inside again.

 And... his relationship with Kazuya.

 He didn't mean to, of course.

 He loved that Kazuya was still his.

 Loved that they were still together even though Kazuya loved someone else.

 He still felt complete.

 But lately, he couldn't help but wonder why Kazuya was with him.

 Baseball was important to both of them.

 But he hadn't pitched in a while.

 Kazuya hadn't caught his pitches in a while.

 And he understood Kazuya was busy with his captain and main catcher duties.

 But he was an useless pitcher.

 Before, he could somewhat pitch.

 But now...

 Why was Kazuya still with him?

 Was Kazuya still dating him because he... felt sorry for him?

 He shook his head.

 He was the one who told Kazuya that he could think of him as Hiro-san.

 That wasn't Kazuya feeling sorry for him.

 But that was before he had the yips.

 He didn't know what Hiro-san was like.

 (Even though he had been trying to act like him whenever they were together.)

 But he didn't think Hiro-san was this... gloomy.

 This quiet.

 He had tried to apologize to Kazuya, but Kazuya (for some reason) told him it was alright.

 If this were before he had learned Kazuya loved someone else, he might've felt relieved.

 And his chest would've felt warm.

 But that soft look Kazuya gave him...

 That was for Hiro-san.

 Not him.

 Why was Kazuya still with him when he wasn't acting like Hiro-san anymore?

 He hated the thought of it, but...

 Why hadn't Kazuya dumped him for Hiro-san yet?

 (He never wanted Kazuya to dump him. He loved feeling complete. But...)

 Hiro-san seemed to feel the same as him.

 So why?

 Of course, he felt relieved and happy Kazuya hadn't dumped him for Hiro-san yet.

 But moments like this made him wonder.

 He sighed, clenching his fists.

 "What's wrong?"

 He gasped, eyes widening.

 He had completely forgotten he was currently with Kazuya, hanging out with him in his room.

 They had been cuddling on his bed.

 But from the way Kazuya sat up, frowning at him, he didn't think Kazuya wanted to cuddle anymore.

 (Again, it was his fault. Hiro-san would never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with Kazuya.)

 Eijun sat up, looking down at his hands.

 He wasn't sure what to say.

 (Something that had been occurring more often ever since he had gotten the yips.)

 "I..." He clenched his fists before relaxing his grip. He looked up at Kazuya, noticing his furrowed eyebrows. "It's... nothing. Sorry."

 Kazuya narrowed his eyes. "Don't lie to me. I know something's wrong. Tell me."

 "Why do you care?" he blurted.

 He froze, eyes widening as he belatedly realized what he said, noticing as Kazuya's eyes widened.

 What...?

 Why had he said that for?

 Before he could say anything, though, Kazuya furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you...? Of course I care."

 And it should've been alright after that.

 Maybe he could've gotten away with it by coming up with an excuse.

 If it weren't for him and his big mouth.

 "Why? I'm an useless pitcher."

 Kazuya gave him a warning look, but he didn't try to reassure him or protest it wasn't true.

 Eijun got up, standing next to his bed and looking down at Kazuya. "I haven't pitched in days. And you don't even care."

 "That's not true, and you know it," Kazuya protested. "I know it's frustrating not being able to pitch, but you should listen to Kantoku."

 Again.

 He had lost track of how many times he had tried to bring up his fears, doubts, and worries to Kazuya.

 And Kazuya... didn't even seem to listen.

 As if his fears, doubts, and worries... weren't important to Kazuya.

 He had thought Kazuya cared for him.

 (Even a little bit would be alright. He was still dating him after all.)

 But did Kazuya care at all?

 He clenched his fists. "I know I'm not Hiro-san even though I said you can think of me as him."

 Kazuya gave him that warning look from earlier.

 "And I'm alright with that. But I'm still your teammate." Eijun hated the way his voice sounded soft and hurt.

 Kazuya got up, standing next to him and raising his eyebrows. "What, so you think I don't care about you at all?"

 "It's the truth, isn't it?" Eijun clenched his fists even tighter. "You don't listen to me at all, and you don't seem to care whether I pitch again."

 Kazuya narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. "That's not true, and you know it. I—"

 "Then why won't you listen to me?" He closed his eyes briefly before giving him a pained look. "Would you listen to me if I were Hiro-san?"

 Kazuya glared at him. "Stop bringing up Hiro. That's none of your business."

 Eijun gave him another pained look. "Kazuya, I'm happy we're still together. But there's more to a relationship than kissing."

 "What do you...?"

 Kazuya wasn't the type to talk about his feelings.

 But Kazuya knew what kind of person he was.

 And he had hoped he could share his feelings with Kazuya.

 But Kazuya didn't care.

 Kazuya only cared about touching him and talking to him about baseball.

 (And Kazuya had barely talked to him about baseball ever since he had gotten the yips.)

 He sighed. "Feelings, Kazuya. You don't care about my feelings at all."

 "But you said you're alright with our relationship."

 He almost sighed again. "I am happy with our relationship. But you never want to listen to my feelings. Is this what you do with Hiro-san?"

 Kazuya glowered at him. "I told you not to bring up Hiro."

 Eijun wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but he wasn't sure if Kazuya would let him. "I'm not asking you to share your feelings with me. Although I would like it if you did. But..." He struggled to keep eye contact, especially with the way Kazuya glowered at him. "Is something wrong with telling you my feelings? Why can't you just listen to me silently? Hiro-san—"

 "Shut up! Stop bringing up Hiro!"

 But Eijun found he... couldn't stop speaking. "Do you even love Hiro-san? You don't care about his feelings at all? Hiro-san—"

 "I said shut up!" Kazuya roared, causing him to flinch. "Stop talking about Hiro like you know him!"

 He hated that Kazuya was getting this angry.

 And... he hated how Kazuya wasn't listening.

 He took a deep breath before reaching out for Kazuya's hand. "Kazuya, I..."

 But Kazuya stepped away from him, eyes cold. "You're not him."

 He froze, hand still outstretched. "Eh?"

 What did he just...?

 "You're not him."

 His heart dropped.

 It couldn't be...?

 He stepped closer, almost flinching again as Kazuya's eyes darkened. "K-Kazu—"

 "Shut up! You're not him, and you'll never be him!" Kazuya roared, causing him to flinch.

 Eijun's eyes widened in horror.

 What... had he done?

 Sure, he didn't like it how Kazuya loved Hiro-san.

 And sure, he didn't like it how he pretended to be someone he wasn't.

 (All for Kazuya. He loved Kazuya.)

 But he was... alright with their relationship.

 Because it meant Kazuya was still his.

 Because it meant... he still felt complete.

 His tongue felt like it was glued to his mouth.

 He couldn't say anything.

 "Forget it. We should've done this a long time ago."

 His eyes widened even more (if it were possible).

  Oh no.

 That did not sound good.

 Eijun stepped closer, his heart clenching at the way Kazuya's eyes darkened. "Kazuya, wait. I... didn't mean it. I'm—"

 To his horror, Kazuya stepped around him, making his way toward his door. "No. Clearly, I was the stupid one for believing this would work." He shook his head, stopping in front of the door. "What was I thinking?"

 ... Why did he say that in past tense?

 It was as if...

 His heart dropped at the realization.

 "Kazuya, wait! I'm sorry!" If Kuramochi-senpai were in the room, his jaw would've dropped as he practically flew across the room, clinging to Kazuya's shirt sleeve. "We can... We can still make this work!"

 Kazuya turned his head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "How? You'd still be with someone who doesn't love you. And I'd still be with someone who isn't Hiro."

 His heart...

 His heart felt as if it were breaking.

 "I'll do better next time! I..." He hated the thought of it, but if it meant Kazuya wouldn't leave him... "Please, Kazuya! I'll... I'll be a better Hiro-san for you! Give me another chance!"

 But Kazuya shook his head, his eyes dark. "You're not him, and you'll never be him."

 Eijun felt tempted to grab the spot where his heart was. "Please, Kazuya! I—"

 "Shut up!" Kazuya roared, causing him to flinch and let go of him. "It's over! Why can't you realize that!"

 Kazuya opened the door, looking back at him. "I'll see you at practice, Sawamura."

 It was as if Kazuya had slapped him.

 Kazuya... Kazuya called him Sawamura...

 His family name...

 As if... they were back to the relationship they had before they started dating.

 "K-Kazu—"

 Kazuya glowered at him, and somehow, he looked angrier than before, causing him to shiver. "Don't call me Kazuya anymore! You have no right to call me that!" He gave him a warning look, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "And you better not call me that tomorrow at practice or if we somehow see each other at school."

 And then, Kazuya left, not looking behind him even once.

 Eijun quickly chased after him, but he found himself... freezing right outside his door.

 So that was it?

 Kazuya... broke up with him?

 (Did Kazuya think he was annoying, too?)

 He really hadn't meant to say any of that.

 Sure, he wasn't totally happy with his relationship with Kazuya.

 But at least they were still together.

 Unlike now.

 Why had he let his doubts, fears, and worries bubble up like that?

 Kazuya...

 Kazuya had broken up with him.

 (And for good reason. Maybe Kazuya had gotten tired of him.)

 He trudged away from his dorm room, feeling numb.

 It was strange.

 He thought if Kazuya ever broke up with him, he would feel indescribable pain.

 Thought his life would be over.

 Thought feeling empty would hurt more than this.

 But he wasn't even crying.

 Sure, his heart was screaming in pain.

 But he wasn't crying.

 Was something wrong with him?

 He made his way out of Seidou, trudging over to the bus stop, not even realizing where he was at first.

 Had... Had Kazuya cared about him at all?

 If someone else (like Furuya) had confessed to Kazuya, would Kazuya have accepted them as easily as he did him?

 Would... Would Kazuya have at least listened to their feelings?

 He blinked a few times, not sure if he were trying to stop himself from crying or because he finally realized where he was.

 This...

 This was the bus stop where he would wait for Kazuya.

 Where Kazuya had promised to meet him for their dates.

 Dates he never showed up to because he was too busy kissing Hiro-san, his traitorous mind whispered.

 He shook his head, sitting down despite himself.

 While it was true he and Narumiya had caught Kazuya kissing Hiro-san that one time, that didn't mean Kazuya had bailed on all their dates.

 ... Right?

 But if Kazuya had cared about him even a little bit, he would've shown up for their dates instead of bailing on him.

 Kazuya had tried kissing him and making him feel good, as if the pleasure could make up for what Kazuya had done.

 And while it did feel good, it had felt wrong.

 If Kazuya had cared about him, he would've apologized and actually showed up to their next date.

 But he hadn't.

 He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

 Of course he hadn't.

 Kazuya hadn't cared about him or his feelings.

 Eijun sniffed, not even realizing he was crying until he looked down at his lap and the bus stop bench, watching as his tears wet his pants and the bench.

 He wiped away the tears, sniffing again.

 Why was he crying now?

 Why didn't he cry earlier?

 (Something was wrong with him.)

 He didn't know why.

 It was as if all the pain he had been holding in just... bubbled up.

 Kazuya didn't care about him.

 Would never care about him.

 Kazuya only loved Hiro-san.

 He let out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around his legs.

 He had felt complete not too long ago.

 But he felt... empty now.

 As if... he had never met Kazuya.

 Or Kazuya had taken his other half with him.

 He sobbed, tightening his arms around his legs, knowing no one would come check on him.

 (Why would they? It wasn't as if anyone cared.)

 Tears coursed down his cheeks, the tears not stopping as he continued thinking about Kazuya.

 And how empty he felt

.

An hour ago...

 No, maybe even thirty minutes ago...

 He was still dating Kazuya.

 They were still together.

 But now...

 All their moments they shared together...

 They were starting to blur.

 And he didn't want that!

 Sure, his heart felt as if it had broke.

 But he would rather cry and feel this pain than forget about his memories with Kazuya.

 Kazuya...

 Kazuya probably didn't even care that he had broken his heart.

 That he was here by himself, crying his heart out.

 And that was what hurt the most.

 ---

NARUMIYA MEI

Mei didn’t know why, 

 But he felt a strong urge telling him that he had to go to the bus stop right now. 

 It was by chance, or should he say, a twist of fate, that he had run across Sawamura Eijun, or Ei-chan, on his way back to the campus 

 (...It was a pure coincidence, he swears, it's not like he had been waiting at the bus stop the moment he heard they were meeting up there for their date)

 And it was mainly curiosity that was fueled from the fact he was dating Kazuya that Mei had dragged him to his favorite café in the area 

 He found the fellow southpaw... interesting, and really cute. 

 Not the kind of person Kazuya deserves. 

 Which what led him to often visiting that very same bus stop on his off days to see if the brunette was there (In other words, to see if Kazuya had stupidly bailed on their date again) 

 He knew the reason why he felt such a strong urge to go there right now was probably because of Ei-chan 

 It probably wasn’t a good idea, especially when after the loss he had just experienced in Koshien,  

 But he felt... no, he knew he would regret it later if he didn’t listen to his instincts. 

 He suddenly recalled their last date before the summer tournament started 

 How he and Ei-chan had caught Kazuya cheating with someone else, 

 How Ei-chan‘s voice trembled as he told him how he knew Kazuya had loved someone else the entire time, 

 How Ei-chan painfully convinced his own self that it was fine. 

 He knew Ei-chan wasn’t fine, 

  It was terrible, 

 Seeing Ei-chan cry... seeing him hurt himself just for the sake of someone who didn’t even deserve it, 

 Seeing his usually lustrous golden orbs so pained and dark. 

 If he were Kazuya, he would have cherished him like no other, 

 He would have given him all his hours when he had the chance. 

 He would never let him cry.

 He rushed to the bus stop where he always finds Ei-chan as fast as possible.

 He knew he had to get there quick.

 He didn't really know why... He just knew.

 When he arrived, he noticed a figure sitting alone at the stop, curled up in a ball and... crying to himself.

 He stepped closer quietly to get a proper look and felt himself holding his breath as he recognized the mop of brown hair the person had

 “...Ei-chan?” Mei asked carefully, hoping it wasn't the brunette who was crying to himself

 It didn't take long before misty golden eyes looked back at him

 He lookes so lifeless, so... empty,

  So broken.

 "Ei-chan... what's wrong?" tried to ask carefully but it only led to the brunette crying even more, shaking his head as he did so.

 Mei was at lost, he didn't know what to do to help and the sight of Eijun crying tore his heart.

 He made his way beside the brunette quietly and gently placed his hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles to help and comfort him. "I'm right here. Just cry it all out, i won't leave your side" He whispered softly, surprised at how tender his own voice sounds

 Seconds became minutes and those minutes felt like hours as he stayed by Eijun's side, patiently rubbing his back as he tried to speak warm, reassuring words of comfort.

 Mei noticed how the sobbing stopped "are you alright now?"

 Ei-chan nodded weakly and Mei breathed in relief, glad the brunette was slightly better now. 

 Deciding it's better to ask sooner than later, he inhaled deeply as he opened his mouth to speak yet Eijun beat him to it.

 He turned to face Mei, eyes still foggy from confusion and pain, hesitantly, he spoke

 "Kazuya... He broke up with me.." 

[thesassenachswiftie]

Lover Chapter 7: “Afterglow”

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6

Summary: A chance meeting at a football game from Jamie's perspective, and what happens under the bleachers.

Notes: Thanks so much for reading and all your kind comments on the last chapter! I promise we're almost "Out of the Woods" as far as angst goes (for now).

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter 7: Afterglow

Jamie’s heart was still aching a month after Claire left him. However, his pride kept him from reaching out to her. The truth is, he’d forgiven everything she’d done and everything she could do long before that day. For him, that was no choice. That was falling in love. He threw himself into his work on the farm and his family. Helping Jenny with meals, driving the children to various practices and scout meetings, helping Ian with the unending harvest September brought.

On this particular Friday evening, Jamie found himself at his nephew Ian’s homecoming game. He tried to pay attention to the game, but he really couldn’t wrap his head around the complexities of American football. It was so stop-and-go--what exactly was a ‘down’? It reminded him of battle maps of the Rising he’d seen in a history textbook when he was in high school in Scotland. Naturally, his thoughts drifted to Claire. As the cold September air wrapped around him, he felt it was fitting. His heart had been cold, frozen without Claire’s light and love for the past month. He could have buttoned his jacket, but what was the point of feeling warm?

He didn’t even realize it was half time, until he heard the marching band start playing.  Everything around him was bright and alive, he felt like an island, detached from his surroundings, drifting in the waves. In truth he’d been living like an island all month. He decided to get some snacks to distract himself. He hadn’t sat like this without a distraction all month. At least with Kitty’s soccer games he could focus on the game. Here, where the game was an enigma to him, he needed a task to deter his restless mind.

           “I’m going to go get something to eat, anyone want anything?” he asked his family.  A barrage of orders came at him from his nieces and nephews, and he recited them back--intentionally messing up their orders (much to their amusement) before correcting himself and making his way up the bleachers.

           It was on his way back down that he spotted an unmistakable mop of curly brown hair and almost dropped the snacks he just shelled out twelve American dollars for. Sassenach. His heartbeat immediately picked up to match the beat of the marching band. God, she was beautiful, but she looked so fragile there, cold and alone, head down, wearing a muted blue grey jacket that seemed to match the air around her. He suddenly realized how stupid he’d been all month to ignore her. He’d punished her with silence. How many times had he typed a text to her only to erase it without pressing send? How many times had he pulled up her contact but couldn’t press the call button? Now seeing her like this, she looked so utterly broken. It was excruciating to see her so low. Had his own pride allowed him to do this to her? I blew things out of proportion now you’re blue. He wanted to wrap her up until he saw that beautiful spark light up her face again. He just wanted to lift her up and not let her go. Before he knew it he was beside her, “Claire?”

           “Hi Jamie, fancy seeing you here!” He had no idea how to reply, it was as if he had gone mute. He just stared into those whiskey eyes that looked so full of sorrow. He almost started to reach out to her, forgetting the concessions he was holding. Luckily, she offered to help him carry them and before he knew it they were headed down the bleachers together.

           When she agreed to sit with him his heart was soaring. If simply sitting next to her was all he could have for the rest of his life, it would be enough. I don’t wanna lose this with you. They were actually able to talk and even flirt a bit as she tried to watch the game, but his eyes couldn’t leave her. He felt so comfortable with her, they just seemed to fit together effortlessly. She was so close he could smell her shampoo, something herbal that he couldn’t quite pin down. It wasn’t fruity or overpoweringly floral like some women he had met in his life--it suited her. Having her there, inches from her made him feel bold. He formulated a plan in his head to get her alone, he needed to be closer to her, but not with his entire family right there.

           He had ended his bold, flirtatious exchange by winking to make it abundantly clear what he was asking her. She had seemed responsive. Her face lit up like it had so many times over the summer they shared. He was starting to sweat despite the chill in the air pacing underneath the away team’s bleachers as he waited for her. How long should he wait? What if she wasn’t coming? What if she saw this opportunity to leave again? It’s all me, Claire, just don’t go, please, come to me mo nighean donn.

           After what seemed like an eternity, she came to him. He heard her feet soft on the gravel, approaching him in the dark. He saw his opportunity, and met her, taking her in his arms as soon as he could, ready to take her mouth as he had imagined so many times in the past month.  How many times had he imagined kissing her again? How many times had he tried to recreate their last night together—conjuring the thought of pinning her hands behind her back and making love to her in the soft light of their hotel bed.  He wished he had committed every moment to memory, not knowing it could have been their last. None of that mattered now, his Sassenach had returned to his arms--but just like that, she was gone again running away--but he wouldn’t let her go this time. Don’t walk away. He pulled her back and set her straight. Poor, beautiful, broken, Claire collapsed before him. He sat with her, trying to calm and comfort her, when she could speak, she confessed she was afraid.  

           “Claire, there now, what are you scared of?”

           “I don’t wanna--I don’t wanna do this to you” she sobbed, choking out the words.

           “Claire, what are you talking about?” he could see the pain on her face and he needed to explain, needed to say his piece. “I’m to blame Claire, I see your pain, I should’ve come after you, I shouldn’t have let you leave.”

           “He, it’s all me, in my head. I’m the one who burned us down. I just tried to leave you again, but it’s not what I meant. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know if we can put this back together. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”

           “Is this it? Chemistry ‘til it blows up, ‘til there’s no us? Is that what you want?” He placed his thumb under her chin, lifting her head so their eyes could meet. She didn’t look away. “Claire, please just tell me what you want.” Tell me that I’m all you want.

           “I--I don’t know what I want. I thought I did, but now--” she paused. Jamie could tell she was thinking, and let her mind work as he stared into her beautiful amber eyes. Claire could see her pain reflected in his own eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him a month ago in the car, she knew now if she had she would have seen it then too.  He was just as broken as she was. Why’d I have to break what I love so much? Her tears started flowing freely again. “Oh Jamie, I put you in jail for something you didn’t do. I’m sorry that I hurt you. How can you ever forgive me? After all I’ve done--how can we be just fine, how can we be together?”

           “I forgive you, I’ve forgiven you. I swear to it, I wanted to text you, to call you. I let my pride get in the way. I just need to know, Claire, I need to know where your heart’s at now. Tell me that you’re still mine. I need to hear you say it.”  

           Claire realized in that moment that she was fighting with true love. It was like boxing with no gloves--futile, hopeless and most of all painful. She couldn’t keep herself from him no matter how hard she tried.  I thought I had reason to attack, but no. What did she want? She wanted him. She wanted him to be the one by her side, the one she told when she finally got into a residency program. The one to celebrate life’s victories big and small. The one to be there as she put her life together. She knew she couldn’t put it back together without him. He had bared himself to her, and she knew he wasn’t going to let her get away with silence. It was her turn to share her feelings. “Jamie, I want to be with you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. It terrifies me, but I can’t help it. I’m drawn to you; I can’t explain it”

           Jamie’s hand was still on her face, thumb stroking her cheek, as she spoke, he took her hand in his other hand, entwining their fingers together. Something about this moment told him this love was worth the fight. “Aye, Sassenach, I feel it too. I don’t ken what it is, but I think we’re meant to honor it.” Claire nodded in agreement. They had been drawing in closer to one another as apologies and declarations were made in the dark. Each moment they shared under the bleachers, their faces inched closer together. “Claire, I would very much like to kiss you” he whispered, “May I?”

           “Yes” came her breathless reply.

           Instantly, their mouths were joined. Slowly, tentatively they reacquainted their lips before opening to each other fully. Tongues finding their way back between open lips, teeth finding their way to lower lips. All the pent-up passion of the last month culminated into one enduring kiss.

           Claire finally managed to pull away, realizing where they were. For a moment, they basked in the afterglow of their reunion, meeting again after a painful month of separation, each living a half life. “Jamie,” she panted, slightly out of breath, “take me home.”

           “As ye wish, Sassenach.” he replied, rising to help her to her feet and slipping his arm firmly around her and kissing the side of her head as he led her to the car.

End Notes: This chapter actually has two complete iterations. I orginally wrote it as "Me!" and it worked pretty well, I was actually pretty proud of myself for using such a catchy pop song for such an emotionally weighty chapter. However, as I started to write Chapter 8, I realized "Afterglow" didn't fit after they'd already hashed everything else out. The title really threw me, because we're "meeting in the Afterglow" in the future, but the lyrics hold the emotional weight. I think I'll post the "Me!" chapter as an outtake in case anyone wants to read it, since I am pretty proud of it. Stay tuned for that later.

Thanks again for reading!

[makovu]

— leona & malleus.

this post is going to sound like it’s through a shippy lens, which... sure, it is. but i think that’s also always going to be the baseline complexity of leona’s issues with malleus and how they toe that line, even in timelines where it goes nowhere.

malleus is an integral part of leona’s current existence and how he views himself — i don’t think he realizes it, really, but the way he views malleus as a threat, as everything he isn’t and everything he deserves to be, means he’s framing himself and his very being against malleus’. i don’t think it’s a coincidence that leona began failing and behind held in his third year when malleus began attending night raven college; looking at the issues leona has with him, i think that’s too convenient of a timeline to not be related. leona has a very high opinion of himself, or he at least projects one. most people at this school are easily beneath him, in intellect or athletic prowess or both. but three years ago malleus came to this school and shattered that standing by being an actual threat to leona.

in response, leona has developed a big complex surrounding malleus, and it’s visible to practically everyone ( he doesn’t have to speak up about how glad he is when malleus doesn’t show up to something, but he does every time, without fail ). a lot of it is projecting and twisting his complex in regards to his brother and his own status as second prince onto malleus: malleus is obviously what he could be if he’d been afforded the same things malleus and his brother both were as the first prince and heir of their respective lines. of course, that isn’t true, and some part of leona knows that. but some part of him has to blame others for his own shortcomings, and malleus is a palpable target for that blame.

this is why he’s almost all talk when it comes to taking down malleus, because he needs malleus. if he doesn’t have malleus, he has no one to direct his anger at himself towards. the plot in episode two managed to skirt around this because it wasn’t him enacting things himself; the fact that ruggie was going to be the perpetrator meant it was okay in leona’s eyes. ( that said, i think he would have quickly realized some things about himself had he even thought he’d succeeded for a few minutes too many. ) but he could never do anything like that with his own hands, because even if given the chance i think he’d realize there’s too much to unpack between them even if just in himself. he doesn’t hate malleus; he hates what malleus represents to him, and killing malleus wouldn’t get rid of that but it would get rid of a target he can take that hatred out on.

[i-demand-a-hug]

Here’s chapter 7 of my shuake fic where Ren’s a shapeshifting cryptid mermaid and Goro’s something else entirely. This chapter’s posted both here and on AO3!

-

How many times had he thought, "I could stay here forever," while sitting in a hot bath? Now, as the hours trickle past, the idea feels horribly unbearable. Goro is flushed red like a cooked lobster, scowling down at his reflection in the water. The fact that Goro has no one to blame but himself only sours his mood further.

How stupid. Why didn't he just finish his homework like a normal teenager?

Thankfully, Goro doesn't have to contemplate whether he'll die from staying in the bath too long—though wouldn't that be rich, after everything he's done—because it’s then the mermaid decides to enter the room. Whether it's from relief or simply the heat making him delirious, Goro's smile feels genuine for once.

This time, Goro takes the opportunity to observe the mermaid, who sinks into the water at the other end of the bath. He seems plain, almost meek; most humans would barely look at him. But there's something more to the still waters of his face, an inscrutable depth that could be hiding anything. This mermaid could be nothing but a harmless slug—or he's the alluring light that would lead Goro straight into the maw of an angler fish. It's an exciting, dizzying thought, and Goro has to wrestle his grin into a more harmless shape.

Goro clears his throat. The way the mermaid's frizzy hair covers his eyes as he looks up is just a little irritating—hasn't this boy heard of a haircut?

"Good evening," Goro says with a polite smile. "It's quiet tonight, isn't it?"

The mermaid goes rigid for a moment, then turns his head away. Goro might as well have spoken to the wall. How rude.

Goro tries not to let his irritation show on his face.

"You look familiar..." Goro says, making a show of pondering and humming, then clapping his hands together as if a puzzle piece slid into place. "That's it! I saw you here last night, didn't I?"

"Mm," is the mermaid's only response.

“My name is Goro Akechi. And you are...?”

The mermaid actually mumbles something this time, a barely audible “...Amamiya.”

"Bumping into you two days in a row is quite a coincidence, huh? Perhaps it's fate."

Had he the chance to truly express himself, Goro would have sneered at his own saccharine voice.

It's all so repulsively fake.

The mermaid is unresponsive once again, and Goro nearly grits his teeth. The worthless adults who surround Shido ignore Goro, too, unless they need something from him. It's a matter of superiority, acting like they're better than him.

And yes, he's furious that the mermaid would act as though Goro's beneath him, and yes, he's taking it as a personal insult. And no, this has nothing to do with being starved of positive interactions with people his own age. It’s just curiosity. That's all. That's all!

He rises from the bath, an oddly empty feeling in his chest.

As he steps out of the water, however, an odd sensation hits him. It's as if someone turned his bones to jelly. He tries to wonder why, but his mind is slowly filling with cotton. He sways, and then the floor leaps up to attack him as his vision cuts to black.

His face is squished against the wet tiles when his senses return. A frigid hand grabs his shoulder—Goro relies on instinct and snarls something incomprehensible yet threatening.

Just as his eyes fall on the startled mermaid, who is crouched beside him, Goro remembers where he is. He also remembers that yelling at someone typically has consequences. While Goro collects the scraps of his composure, the mermaid speaks.

"You… You collapsed.” 

Goro can’t say he remembers fainting, but it would certainly explain why he’s on the floor. He meets the mermaid’s anxious eyes with a cobbled-together smile.

“Oh! I suppose I was in the bath a little too long.” An understatement. “I’m sorry for making you worry. Tell me, how long was I unconscious for?"

The mermaid twists a lock of his hair. "Um. 20 seconds?"

That’s not too bad, Goro thinks. The fact his towel stayed on is also a plus. However, the idea of fainting due to his own stupidity is infuriating, not to mention embarrassing. What if he’d hurt himself? What if he’d been alone? More importantly, what if his feathers appeared, even for a second?

Goro shivers, then remembers he’s naked and soaked and really needs his clothes.

“I should get dressed,” says Goro, trying to stand, but the static hasn’t quite left his limbs and he nearly falls again. The mermaid, however, steadies him, cold hands on Goro’s shoulders. Goddammit. Apparently the universe really wants to humiliate him tonight.

“Are you okay?” the mermaid asks softly, but the question feels like an insult. “I know a doctor… I could—”

“Oh, there’s no need!” says Goro in his best ‘good boy’ voice. His smile is tight against his skin. “I’ll be fine, but thank you for your concern. I just need to rest, cool down a bit.”

He peels the remaining glue from his brain and forces his legs to move. 

As Goro puts his clothes back on, he glances at the mermaid, who is turned away at the opposite end of the changing room. The mermaid was unresponsive up until Goro fainted. Does he now think Goro is some pathetic, unthreatening worm? Or is he simply a bleeding heart who hates to see someone in trouble? A mermaid with a hero complex is a strange thought: Goro breathes a laugh, then grimaces. 

He has to wonder if he should quit being a detective, because he's clearly an idiot. Was Goro really so eager to escape his role of shattering people’s minds that he let himself pass out? Maybe he should save himself the trouble next time and ram his head against a wall. 

“Here.”

Goro blinks away his thoughts. The mermaid is standing next to him (when did that happen?) and holding out a can of soda (where did he get that?).

“You might be dehydrated,” the mermaid says when Goro makes a bewildered face. And still it takes another five seconds for Goro to realise that, yes, this is genuine kindness. Something about the tiny gesture makes him feel a little better. He takes the soda can.

“It was, ah, Amamiya-kun, right?” says Goro.

Amamiya has fallen silent again, but he at least offers a nod. 

“I…” Goro is dangerously close to saying something sentimental. “I should be getting home. I have school in the morning, unfortunately.”

“Wait,” Amamiya says, suddenly. “Will you be okay? You won’t collapse again?”

The pity in Amamiya’s voice is a slap to the face. Goro sips at the drink to hide his failing smile.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I… I could walk you to the train station, at least.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t take up your time like that. It’s getting quite late; you should hurry home before your family worries.”

Amamiya stiffens, a detail Goro files away for later, but he still seems ready to argue.

“How about this, then?” says Goro, as though the idea only just hit him. “Why don’t we exchange contact information. I can let you know when I’ve safely made it home or if I run into trouble. Will that put your mind at ease?”

He sees Amamiya relent at this, albeit reluctantly. Goro’s plan to satiate his mermaid-related curiosity was a disaster, but a phone number is useful. Next time, he won’t have to rely on chance—now he can simply message Amamiya, and the buds of further conversation should sprout from there. 

Once Amamiya’s details are safely stored in his phone, Goro smiles with unfeigned cheer. He tells the mermaid goodbye, see you later, and begins his walk down the street. 

It’s when Goro turns at a corner that he tries to release his feathers and fly home. He can’t, however. A strange chill traps his wings beneath his skin, and Goro nearly shivers. 

Changing from one form to another is a difficult feat—Goro’s found he struggles to release his feathers unless protected by obscurity. Darkness helps, as well as enclosed spaces, but the most important factor is that no eyes can be on him. Goro twists around; the streets are empty. And yet, his feathers still won’t appear. 

...The train it is, then. Goro grits his teeth and marches down the road. Though the sensation of being watched leaves fairly quickly, the phrase, “curiosity killed the cat,” echoes in his mind. He doesn’t let himself relax until he’s behind his apartment door. 

[fabllama02]

That Superhero AU

Dagur the Deranged dives into Jackson’s path during the hazy dusk of a weekday. Jackson’s been patrolling for hours now; he suited up straight after school, webbing his backpack full of civvies and calculus homework to the underside of an apartment building’s AC unit before taking to the sky. He’s chasing a couple of thugs who’s held up a local 7/11 when Dagur makes a grab for him.

Jackson flips safely out of the way. Dagur cackles, and chases after him, mouth full of wet, pointed teeth.

“Get a hobby, you maniac!” Jackson calls over his shoulder. Dagur forces him to duck and roll to the left. Those thugs and their bundles of cash must be long gone by now.

“You’re my hobby,” Dagur says.

“Yeah?” Jackson yells back. “You want me to come with you to the craft store? Help you pick out some wool, some watercolors; maybe we could pick up a model airplane to build together-”

Dagur snags his arm. He’s intimidatingly larger than Jackson. His hand wraps entirely around Jack’s bone thin wrist, almost obscuring his entire hand beneath that meaty fist.

“Uh oh,” Jackson says, right before Dagur throws him through the air and into the side of a building. Cement cracks under the force. “Ow.”

Dagur chases it with a punch. Jackson back-flips out of the way, crouching low on the pavement. The street is bustling with people rushing home from work, all of them skittering backward with fright.

“Come on, Dagster, can’t we talk this out like the rational people we aren’t?” Jack offers.

Dagur rises back up on his feet and- yup, oh yeah, he is definitely stupidly taller than Jack. He’d be getting a complex if he wasn’t too busy dodging deadly, swiping hits and ignoring the screeching whine of his spider-sense.

Dagur bares his teeth. It’s not a smile. “I don’t want to talk, little Angel. I want to see what your insides look like.”

“Thank but my insides prefer to be on the inside-”

Dagur grabs Jackson again, nails digging into the soft skin of his throat, and bodily throws him. Jackson doesn’t just crack the side of a building; this time, with a hitch in his breath and a scream of his spider-sense, Jackson goes careening through the storefront window, glass shattering and customers inside shrieking, and then straight through the solid far wall. Jackson’s been thrown through walls before. It never stops being so painful, so disorienting, like a boulder has been smashes over his head.

“Ugh,” Jackson says. He lies in the nest of fractures cement and shards of glass and wonders if numb, tingling limbs is a blessing or a very, very bad sign. Probably the latter. “Ughhhhhh.”

“My boss is going to kill me!” The middle-aged manager in a polo shirt stands behind the broken wall. The glare he wears is anything but sympathetic. Geez, a guy can’t even get thrown through a window and a wall without upsetting someone in this city.

“My super-villains are going to kill me,” Jackson snipes back.

“Look what you’ve done,” hisses an older customer, tiny, glinting glass shards in her hair. She’s not hurt, though, thank god. “I just bough this shirt! Are you going to pay for it?”

Jackson hauls himself out of the Jack Frost shaped hole, stumbling over shaking feet. “When the deranged guy comes back, I’ll probably be paying for something. With my blood.” The manager and the customers go back to cursing him out. The sharp, accusatory bite to their words sounds vaguely venomous. “Are none of you concerned about the guy that was just chucked through a solid wall? And has a giant, murderous super-villain on his tail? No?”

“I should sue you for-” says the manager. He’s several inches taller than Jack and uses his height to bare down on him, arms crossed.

“Why is it that everyone who hates me is tall?” Jackson wonders. “You, Dagur’s ugly butt. And people wonder why short people all have tempers and complexes-”

“I like your height,” Dagur says, clambering into the broken electronics store. Looks like Jackson’s lunch break is over, then.

The manager and the other customers shriek and rush for the exits. The deranged man ignores them, all his attention focused keenly on Jack- hooray for him!- as he shifts, grins, continues, “You’re conveniently small. So easy to throw. To manipulate.”

“Well, hey,” Jackson says, “at least one of us appreciates my height.”

Dagur snatches Jackson’s hand; he’s too off kilter from being ditched through a store to dodge or shake him off but Dagur doesn’t throw him again. His fist tightens, and Jackson’s spider-sense drags a warning up his spine, and then he snaps Jackson’s fingers backward.

Jackson howls and throws himself backward. Dagur is too strong- Jackson dangles from his grip, four fingers of his left hand broken crookedly, panting against his mask.

“See?” Dagur remarks as Jack gasps through the pain. “So fragile and small.”

“Go jump into the Hudson,” Jackson says.

Dagur leans in, shark-like teeth brushing against the vulnerable, hidden curve of Jackson’s ear. “I’m going to kill you next week,” Dagur promises. It’s low, not a whisper, but a quiet exchange passed only between them. “You’re going to come to come, and I’m going to pull you apart until you’re gasping, and bleeding, and dead.”

“I would never go to you,“ Jackson spits. Dagur readjusts his hold on Jackson’s hand, and yanks again. His glove twists, and his skin burns- his wrists isn’t sprained, but it’s a near thing, accompanied by stinging, heated pain.

“You will,” Dagur says like the condescending asshole that he is. He drops Jackson, and the teenager skitters away from his hold.

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, then I guess I’ll just have to come to you. Do you think the news channel would be horrified by a man being ripped open on a public street, or do you think, in lieu of an obituary, they’ll publish an article blaming you for dirtying public property?” That smile- it’s going to crawl it’s way through Jack’s nightmares like the haunting, damning thing he knows it for. “I doubt anyone would even mourn.”

Jackson’s breath is hitched, his wrecked hand cradled to his heaving chest. Dagur laughs once more, a victorious sound, before taking off into the darkening city, leaving Jackson to the approaching sound of police sirens, the judging eyes of surrounding civilians, and a growing, cancerous dread.

The injury in his hands had vanished quickly, but Dagur’s promise stayed with Jackson. He tried to ignore it, but there was something unsettling about Dagur, more so than any bullies, or criminals, or even super-villains that Jackson faced before. The deranged man is a different breed of villain. He rattles Jackson; it doesn’t matter how hard Jackson tries to ignore it, the man always manages to crawl under his skin.

But, over a week later, when Jackson flips past Oswald Tower and his spider-sense blares to life, Jackson doesn’t think about Dagur. His senses direct him downward, into a hatched window on the lower floor. His hearing picks up begging, someone crying, and then a choked off scream- and Jackson’s running before he thinks about where he is.

Jackson just wants to help. It’s all he’s ever wanted to do.

It’s uncomfortable to search out a crime like this. His spider-sense naturally urges Jackson’s body away from danger. To rush against it like this, sprinting further into the winding hallways, having it build louder and louder in his head, makes him uneasy. It’s like the world’s worst game of hotter/colder. Jackson’s colors slowly melts into his surroundings; making him invisible.

It’s late, and Jackson thinks nothing of the hallways being almost entirely abandoned, only a few interns shrieking at the sudden sight of him crawling along their ceiling like something out of a horror movie. He shushes them and points towards the nearest exit that isn’t blocked. They nodded in thanks before rushing past him and he turns invisible once more.

His spider-sense takes him to a closed set of doors. Jackson crawls in the room through the vents. He found two men inside. One is knelt as though in prayer, drenched in blood and shaking visibly. The other- impeccably dressed, all sharp angles and too seeing eyes- smiles before looking up. At his direction. His grin only grows, his head cocks, and when he takes one testing step forward, Jackson’s spider-sense flinches up his neck like a panicked animal and his invisibility falls off.

“Always a surprise,” the man remarks. “Always exceeding my expectations of man’s ability for blind, foolhardy heroism.” The man’s visage flickers before it completely falls and reveals-

“Dagur.” Jackson says through gritted teeth.

“Permafrost!” The man on the ground tries to reach for Jackson. “Help-”

“Oh, shut up.” Dagur bends down and slams the man’s bleeding head into the floor. Jackson’s spider-sense is a haunting, distracting thing, urging him to run.

“Get away from him,” Jackson says.

The deranged man looks down at the slumped, unmoving man. “Whatever you say, little Angel,” he says, taking a pointed step away, towards Jackson. “He’s just a scientist that out grew his usefulness, anyway.”

“I’m more heroic each time; you’re more vague and creepy each time. We’re a match made in heaven.” Jackson doesn’t leave. He knows Dagur would only take it out on the helpless man on the floor. From the glint of teeth, Jackson guesses Dagur is well aware of the responsibility Jackson has to the unconscious man, too.

“I didn’t even have to enact the second part of my plan. You came straight to me, sought me out through the twisting burrows of my Tower. A dog returning to his master.”

“That’s not very nice,” Jackson says through the building fear. “And after all the effort I made to come visit you…”

The deranged man wearing Oswald’s skin smiles. The click of the reinforced door behind him and the spray of gas shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. The villain straps a gas mask over his smile.

Jackson rushes Dagur. He doesn’t make it to the man before chocking on his breath and collapsing into a pile of weak, useless limbs. Jackson passes out there, goes lax in the bowels of Oswald Tower, spread out at Dagur’s feet.

Jackson comes to with a weight against his throat and heavy limbs. His legs feel like they’ve been dipped in tar, a sticky, moving wetness on his legs and arms. His spider-sense is still with him, screaming incoherently at the base of Jackson’s skull. It gives a rough indicator for just how screwed exactly Jackson is.

He tugs against the wet slime. It shifts, pins him down. He tries again, but the thing doesn’t move and his palm is clenched firmly closed inside it so he can’t frost his way out of this either. It’s like being held down by chains made of molasses.

“Sssssstay,” the Venom-like thing gurgles. His spider-sense shudders down his spine at the sound. Of course, this is why his senses had freaked out; not only was someone in trouble, but a symbiote is involved. They always set Jackson’s spider-sense off, too loud, almost painfully so.

And whatever Dagur’s planning must have been a factor, too. Maybe his spider-sense wasn’t hightlighting the pain the scientist was suffering. Maybe it had sniffed out Dagur’s plan and lit up like a Christmas tree in fright.

“You walked into this one, Jack,” Jackson croaks around the dryness in his throat (how long was he out?). “You idiot.”

“With an IQ so high, you’d think you’d see a trap before you walked blindly into it.” Jackson’s head tips against the tiles to see Dagur, stood above the lain out teenager, looming like a skyscraper over pedestrians. “Hello, Jackson.”

Jackson freezes. Splutters, “I’m- I’m not-”

Dagur holds up his red mask. Jackson realizes, stomach dropping, that his face is bare.

“I’ve known for a while, Jackson,” Dagur says. “A long while.”

“You weren’t good for this city. You’re good for me.”

“Yeah, well,” Jackson says around his panic, “you’re not very good for me. I want to take this relationship back to the shop and get a full refund. The receipt is still in my other tights-”

“Your incessant babbling isn’t as sharp when you’re this panicked. And here I thought you’d be slinging clever puns until the sun burnt out.” Dagur crouches down next to Jackson’s pinned form, grin as slippery as the symbiote holding Jackson in place. He thumbs at a square piece of metal held in one hand. “Maybe I can make you shut up for once. Let’s see, shall we?”

Jackson opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, the weight around his throat tightens, buts off his air and his words, before it pulses electric shocks down his nerves. This is different from the familiar sting of the police’s tazer shots aimed at him- this burns. It scorches. Jackson doesn’t have enough air to scream.

Jackson feels floaty. Distant. When he come back to himself, his chest is heaving. Fingers card through his sweat damp hair.

“You shouldn’t wear that mask,” Dagur admonishes. “It’s too nice, seeing your face. Do you have any idea what you look like when I do this?” He presses at the remote and Jackson is lost beneath another wave of encompassing, red hot pain.

“Bet- bet I still don’t look as ugly as you,” Jackson pants when the sensation ebbs. Dagur’s right- his jokes aren’t as good.

Dagur ignores that. “I’ll tell you; you’re pale. Your eyes roll back in your head, leaving only bloodshot white, and your mouth slips open.” The fingers drift from his hair to trace Jackson’s cracked lips, pressing in. Jackson tastes his fingers on his tongue. He tries to bite him, but Dagur retracts his hand too quickly. “Your whole body convulses…”

“If that hand drifts any lower, Dagur, I really will bite it off.”

Dagur laughs and plucks his hand from Jackson’s clavicle. “You’re lovely, like this.”

“Gross,” Jackson says. “You’re so, so-”

Dagur presses down on the remote. Jackson throws his head back with all his strength. His cranium bangs loudly against the hard floor. But he barely notices the tingling pain or the blood pooling there. He won’t notice the concussion until later.

It continues like that. Dagur leans in, brushes his fingertips over Jackson’s panting, sweating face, looming over the wreck of a teenager and grinning like he wants to devour him whole. The remote is twisted, the collar tightens in warning and then-

Jackson tries fighting, but he feels like he’s underwater. The symbiote holds him down. So, too, does the shocking, sporadic pain and the piercing weight of Dagur’s eyes.

“I made you this way,” Dagur whispers as Jackson gasps for air, shaking violently under the billionaire’s hand. “I made you what you are. I own the spider serum, I own you; my collar belongs around your throat.” The symbiote gurgles. It moves, crawls like a seaworm, like it’s fidgeting. Dagur laughs at the sight, “Your brother is jealous of my affection, Jack, you should be grateful.”

It’s not Dagur’s sugary words that make the half-formed symbiote anxious. It’s the collar. Each flick o Dagur’s thumb on the trigger makes the symbiote skitter along Jackson. He didn’t pick it up in the beginning, too blinded by the waves of pain that swept over him, but after a while, after even Dagur has grown impatient with this method of torture, Jackson is numb enough to recognize the symbiote’s fear. It stays away from where his nerves are the thickest- his feet, his fingertips, the inner curve of his thighs (places that, unfortunately, Dagur is not afraid of touching).

Jackson remembers; Venom had been frightened of pulsing waves of sound, like Church bells. Electricity- this one doesn’t like electricity.

Jackson upper body surges like he’s going to attack Dagur, and the villain reacts instinctively, thumbs slamming down on the collar’s remote trigger. It tightens in warning, leaving him breathless, and Jackson twists on his side. Rather than going lax, surrendering to the inevitable rush of pain, he curls and presses his lips to the writhing, black mass pinning down his arms. When the bundles of nerves beneath his skin flood with electricity, the symbiote screams with Jackson.

It’s just enough. The symbiote flinches off of him and Jack rolls, shuddering with the aftershocks, and punches the shock off of Dagur’s face. As the two monsters recover, Jackson skitters across the lab floor. His free hand reaches up and freezes the collar before crushing it. The bulky metal cracks and energy crackles inside the ice but didn’t fully reach Jackson. It hurts, burns like spitting oil, but it’s nothing like before.

Dagur roars behind his teeth, one hand pressed against his broken nose, spurting blood against his fingers. Jackson smiles victoriously, feeling a little feral.

Take that, Dagster. Jack, 1. Dagur…probably more than 1, come to think of it-

The symbiote is still squirming, but makes no move towards Jackson, skittering away from it’s master’s hands.

I kissed the symbiote, Jack thinks, staring at it. I kissed Venom’s less developed cousin.

And Dagur, Dagur- his eyes are dark and wild. He runs at Jackson and he sees a flash of metal, a loud warning from his spider-sense, before the much taller man barrels into him.

They tumble to the ground, Jackson beneath Dagur. He’s burnt out and exhausted, his collar still spitting toned-down shocks of electricity through his fried nerves at random intervals. Dagur’s teeth are red. His blood drips from his nose and wets Jackson’s maskless face.

He hasn’t don his villain’s suit yet, but he’s still the very picture of Jackson’s nightmares.

Dagur’s elbow digs into Jackson’s chest. It hurts. It pins him. Jackson makes a grab for it, but his spider-sense screams, and Dagur shoves a knife between Jackson’s ribs.

“There it is,” Dagur pants, his blood splashing onto Jackson’s wet cheeks. Some of it gets into the teenager’s open, screaming mouth. It doesn’t taste coppery; all Jackson can taste is pain. “That open, lovely expression. I don’t even need this.” He fiddles with the collar, but snatches his hand back when it splutters and chocks both him and Jackson.

Jackson grapples with Dagur, knife still embedded in his side. Dagur blocks easily enough. Jackson’s strong, but clumsy with pain. The deranged man is still not wearing his gears, but coherent and running on the high of victory.

Dagur grabs his hand and twists. Jackson feels something crack, and Dagur drinks in Jackson’s scrunched expression and breathy cry of pain.

“This wasn’t the type of father-son bonding I was picturing,” Jackson says through his teeth, because he has to, because the other opinion is to scream or cry, giving Dagur what he wants. “I thought- I thought we were going to go fishing, maybe watch some baseball, play catch out the front-”

Dagur punches him across the face, fist closed. Jackson knows how to take a punch.

“You need to watch more American family films, dude, because this? This is not how adults interact with teenagers. There’s a severe lack of baseball mitts and nicknames like ‘sport’ and ‘sonny’-” Dagur hits him again, harder. His lip splits open, and Jack swallows a mouthful of blood and spit. He slants a glare up at his villain. “You’re kind of an asshole, I ever tell you that, Dag-fart? Ha- oh my god, Dag-fart the Deranged, that’s my new name for-!”

Broad hands wrap around Jackson’s neck, ignoring the metal collar and squeezing. Jackson squirms against the chokehold, he tugs at Dagur’s hands and promptly spread frosts along his forearms but strangely enough, he didn’t budge. Even as skin seems to darken in blue at the beginning of a frostbite, Dagur’s sharp-nailed fingers dig into the soft column of his throat. He splutters up at Dagur’s face- purpled in rage, eyes wild, grin as manic as ever- and tries to form words.

“I prefer you quiet,” Dagur tells him. His grip tightens. Jackson’s fingers scramble at the tiles, at Dagur’s hands, desperate for air. “Ah, I think I like this face even more than the last one. You’re so beautiful, desperate. Dying under my hands…”

Dag-fart, Jackson thinks through the airless haze. Dag-fart.

Dagur relaxes his grip enough for Jackson to take in rattling, shallow gasps. His lungs burn. Dagur’s hands go soft, his spread fingers rubbing circles along Jackson’s shaking throat. This deceptive gentleness is sickening.

Their faces are inches apart. Less than. They’re breathing in each other’s air, and Dagur can feel the violent trembling of Jackson’s body, can feel how warm the blood beginning to seep from his stab wound is. That, after everything that has happened today, is what pushes Jackson over the edge.

His legs snap out and he kicks Dagur off of him with all the strength of a bucking, enraged horse. The billionaire’s ribs crack with the force. Jackson yanks the knife out. He resists the urge to curl around the injury or spend any more precious seconds tearing at the collar that keeps spitting electricity. With adrenaline thrumming through his blood, he clambers up and makes for the door. Dagur is still curled on the floor on the other side of the room. The symbiote lays still, as harmless as spilled out, spoiled milk.

Jackson hastily activates his invisibility and limps out of the door and down the long, dark corridors as fast as he can with a bleeding side and a malfunctioning collar.

Dagur isn’t down for long; Jackson can hear the man’s chocked off shouts of rage through the walls. He limps faster, puffing little breathy gasps with each jarring step.

His torso feels soaked through with the blood even as he iced his bleeding side. Wall crawling may be faster and give him the rare higher ground on his too-tall enemy, but it’d paint a path to Jackson. Dagur would just have to follow the dripping, bloodied handprints along the wall to find him.

No. Walk-limping would have to do.

“JACKSON!” He hears the shout muffled through the wall. Dag-fart sounds pained. Good.

Jackson’s been hurt as Jack Frost before. Concussions, jarred fingers and sprained ankles, bullet wounds to the thigh, even a stab wound or two. But there’s something different about this- something that’s visceral and real. Too raw, too much. This, limping through evacuated, empty halls, nerves burnt out and a head wound beginning to make itself known, a concussion pressing nauseous into his throat and blurring the edges of his vision, frostbite beginning to take place on his badly bleeding side, the echo of Dagur’s manic voice ringing through the walls-

It’s too much. Jackson clenches his mouth shut, teeth trapping any noise he might make, and breathes raggedly through his nose. He won’t succumb to the jagged whimpers he can feel in his throat, won’t cry, won’t let panic attack pressing against his ribs take him down.

He has to get out of here.

Dagur is a distinct point; Jackson can just hear his rough pants and the slick-slide sound of his button down and slacks against the villain gears he wears as Dagur the Deranged. Jackson just has to… stay out of his grasp. And find help.

An adult, his mother would say often, driven by worry that her tiny, fresh in his teens, son would think he had to deal with anything awful by himself. She knew he was too selfless. Too stupid to draw attention to his problems. You tell an adult if something bad happens, okay? Promise me, Jackson.

 Jackson, tiny and trusting and sick of these too familiar lectures, had nodded his promise. Had sworn it.

Jackson hates the idea that he’s not enough as he is. He hates being told he’s too weak or not capable or should be protected cause he’s 15 years old and still impatiently waiting for a growth spurt. He’s a superhero. His fists are small, but they pack a mighty punch.

But even stupid, stubborn Jackson has to admit that he’s in a bad position here. Fingers clenched tight to his iced stab wound, Jackson relents; his mother was right.

Jackson needs an adult.

He finds the phone in an empty lab a few levels down. Dagur had taken him to the basement levels, floors hidden beneath the concrete ground of the city, buried in the soil. The man assumed that, after escaping, Jackson would’ve limped up. Tried to find his way out into the sunlight.

But Jackson’s seen enough animal documentaries. He knows about the feral, sharp toothed predators that wounded their prey and then stalk it down, waiting for it to slow, to eventually succumb to their injuries, before capturing and devouring it. He’s not going to crawl and get inches from safety, only to have Dagur snatch him back up.

So Jackson winds his way down to even lower levels. It buys him time.

The scientists usually manning these labs must have been told to abandon them in a hurry. Bags are still left at workstations. There’s no one here to stop him from rifling through their belongings until he finds a phone without a passcode to crack.

With shaking, wet fingers, Jackson dials the closest hero. The one that had- after snapping at him for going out, young and untrained- reluctantly handed over a phone number. Not a name, not an address; a phone number. For emergencies.

It’s one of the few numbers Jackson has memorized, outside of his mother, and his little sister, and a few other dozen friends, and-

“This is Matt Murdock’s phone!”

 “Um,” Jackson says. The voice doesn’t sound like Daredevil; it’s too chirpy. “I’m looking for Daredevil…?”

The man on the other end of the line sighs. “Of course you are.”

“Is this the wrong number? Are you, like, his secretary?”

“Sometimes I feel like it.” Jackson has no idea what that means. “How did you get this number?”

 “Daredevil gave it to me. We’re…we’re colleagues.”

“Winkwink, nudgenudge colleagues?”

 Jackson stares blankly at the lab wall. He’s starting to feel floaty again. Out of body. Like nothing, not even a phone in his hands, not even the warm voice in his ear, is quite real. “I’m a superhero, I’m not sleeping with him or anything. That’s gross.”

“No, no, I got that-” Something shifts in the background. The man murmurs gently, urging someone back to sleep. When he returns, he asks, hushed, “What do you want? Daredevil isn’t available tonight.”

 “He needs to be available,” Jackson says through his haze, heart thumping like a frightened animal. His collar shocks him every ten minutes or so, sending out a weak, painful pulse of electricity that makes him jump and lose his train of thought. “I-I need his help. I’m in tr-”

“Foggy?” Someone in the background says, words badly slurred. “Who’s on the phone?”

 “No one, buddy!” says this Foggy, this man who acts as Daredevil’s secretary, this man who’s keeping help from Jackson. “Go back to sleep, you’re still too injured. It’s just a prank call.”

 “Is that him?” Jackson begs. “I need to- I need-”

“I’m sorry, kid, but running around in spandex can wait. You’re going to have to be patient for a few nights.”

 “Wait-” Jackson begins, but Foggy has already hung up. Jackson tries to call again, but the phone rings out. Foggy must’ve turned it off. Figures.

“Okay, Jackson,” Jackson tells himself around the chattering of his teeth (either blood loss or fear, the jury is still out). His lungs feel tight, like they’re stuffed full of cotton wool and there’s no room for his sharp, shallow inhales. “Don’t panic. So Daredevil hired an asshole secretary who won’t take your calls, you’ve faced stuff like this before. Who else do you know? Who else?”

There’s a group. A group, in their gleaming building with their famous name, who Jackson’s been snapchatting and texting, who’s number his scrambled, fried brain remembers.

He lowers himself to the ground, one hand around his bleeding middle, the other dialing quickly. E. Aster Bunnymund answers with a gruff, “Hello?”

 “Bunny? It’s-it’s Jack Frost,” Jackson whispers. His mouth is wet and dripping; there’s too much salvia in his mouth like he’s about to throw up.

Bunny laughs on the other end of the line. “Frosty? Is this another prank call? Because, I tell ya, I ain’t gonna fall for it a second time around-”

 “Bunny,” Jackson says, “listen, I need the Four’s help with something. Now.”

“Come on, Frostbite. You don’t call, you don’t write- I feel neglected-”

 “Bunny!”Jackson’s voice pitches too high, gone crackling with panic. On the other end, Bunny audibly winces. “Sorry. Sorry. I just… I really need your help. Please.”

“Sorry, Jack, but the Four and I are off-world. We’re actually on our way out ta deal with another spacial anomaly thingy. Ye just caught us; we’re going to fly out of the range of Earth’s satellites soon.”

 “Talk about a long distance call,” Jackson says idly, almost distantly, as though his heart isn’t trying to fight it’s way past his ribcage. The too wet feeling in his mouth worsens. Maybe he really will throw up, this time. Would that attract Dagur? A loud, retching sign of weakness- blood in the water, calling out to the hungry, hungry sharks.

“Good thing ya didn’t call on yer cell,” Bunny agrees. He laughs again. Jackson doesn’t laugh with him. “It’d be phone bill out of this world.”

 “Do you know a phone number that will get me into contact with the other Guardians?” Bunny hums, doubtful, and Jackson begs, “Does North know? Does he have Ombric’s phone number? Someone else, even- any unknown vigilante currently living in this city?”

“No and no to da last two, I think.” Bunny leaves the call briefly. Jackson can hear him talking to the others briefly. There’s a click over the line and the telltale crackle as Jackson is put on speaker phone.

“Jack Frost!” North greets joviantly. “What’s the problem? Is it something we can advise you on? If it’s a strategic battle I could walk you through-”

 ”No, no.” Jackson chokes on the words, around the congested, panicked feeling building in his chest. “I need actual physical help. I need the cavalry, North.”

“We’re pretty far from being able to help, Frostbite.” Bunny’s voice is light, on the edge of a joke. It makes Jackson feel like crying.

“Do you know how I can contact the other Guardians? Or a- a superhero helpline, maybe?”

“I’m sorry, Jack, but my superhero contacts are all saved in the Workshop servers on Earth. There’s nothing I can give you-” North says.

“Nothing?” Jackson asks. Beneath his mask, tears drip down his nose. He didn’t cry when Dagur loomed over him and made him shake and whispered awful, awful promises, but this? Knowing how well and truly alone he is? It’s choking. A hysterical, knife-edged sob crawls it’s way out of Jackson’s throat without his consent.

“Frosty?!” Bunny’s voice is back. Jackson bites at his bottom lip, and curls up tighter around his knees, and presses the phone closer, like he can climb into the screen if he tries hard enough. “Are you- are you crying?”

 “Jack, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” That’s Toothiana. Her voice is hard with worry.

“Blyat,” North says, panicked. Jackson is growing numb and distant and cloudy, the way he does when a panic attack is really brewing, thick and heavy, in his chest. “Is he-”

 “I’m on my own, then,” Jackson cuts North off. His words are shaky and strained; concussions are awful things, especially when coupled with blood loss. Jackson swallows thickly. “It’s- alright. It’s alright.”

“Frosty!” Bunny says. “Snowflake, wait a second-”

 Jackson hangs up.

The phone rings almost immediately. He silences it by denying the call, but it rings again moments later. It doesn’t even occur to Jackson to turn the thing off. He picks it up and crushes it between shaking fingers. It doesn’t ring after that, scattered as it is in warped, useless parts.

“It’s going to be alright,” Jackson says, just once more, and gets to his feet.

Jackson realizes, belatedly, that he should have used that phone to call his mother and little sister. He really may not make it out of this, not if Dagur catches him. A phone call to apologize and say goodbye would have been nice. Then again, the sound of both of their voices may have made him break down for real, and Jackson can’t afford that right now.

The pain is distracting, but the accompanying immovability is what makes Jackson grit his teeth. His whole body feels stiff. He can’t limp away from this. He can’t jump from a window and flips his way to freedom.

The collar goes off again. Jackson freezes the damn thing again and ignores it. He doesn’t have the time or coherency to pull the thing apart.

The blood running thick and slippery over his shaking fingers is alarming. Like a red flag, it shouts Jackson’s own stupidity back at him. He shouldn’t have gotten caught. He should have fought harder. Been faster. Shouldn’t have even gotten out of bed that morning-

Dagur is back.

A door opens and shuts a few hallways over. Dagur’s wearing an expensive grey suit, but beneath it, hidden from prying eyes, is the synthetic gears of his villain outfit. The same way Jackson’s suit is usually tucked away beneath hoodies and t-shirts.

Daredevil’s secretary may have denied him, but Jackson’s still grateful for the hours the older man had spent helping Jackson hone his advanced senses. He can hear the slick-slide of the deranged man’s suit against slacks as loud as a warning bell.

Daredevil may not know it, but he just saved Jackson’s life. Even if it may not matter, in the end.

Jackson immediately activates his invisibility again and wedges himself into a maintenance closet, and holds his breath, and silently begs Dagur doesn’t find him.

He doesn’t- the slick-slide of fabric passes Jackson’s hiding place and disappears further down the corridor. Jackson hasn’t stopped to hide yet, so Dagur has no reason to check all the rooms. He knows that will change the longer he evades the older man. Soon, Dagur’s going to stumble over him, and Jackson’s going to be in no condition to run or fight him off.

But, for now, Jackson shuffles further against the wall, curls into an impossibly small ball, and , with hands smothering his loud breaths, lets his looming panic attack finally crash over him.

The slick-side sound returns. Jackson is exhausted in the aftermath of a panic attack, the vinyl beneath him a sticky red, showing off his blood loss. There’s no air vents in the closet, no hidden nooks for him to disappear into. When Dagur inevitably finds him, he’ll-

“I don’t care how many laws it breaks, scan the corridor. Find whatever experiment Dagur is doing down here.” The voice isn’t Dagur. It’s warmer, a part of him thinks. It doesn’t send shivers down Jackson’s spine. “Who cares about lead lined walls? What are you, Superman? Oh, come on, Fishlegs, you’ve trained better than that-”

An intruder, Jackson thinks. Dagur’s enemy. An ally, in a nearby corridor, starting to wander away from Jackson and his hiding place.

Jackson clambers to his feet and stumbles into the hallway before he can stop himself. His spider-sense has been active since he first burst into the building, and it’s still simmering on low. A reminder that something is coming, that danger looms on Jackson’s horizon. But it doesn’t raise it’s warnings when Jackson started towards the voice,

“Wait!” Jackson blurts. The slick-slide sound fades out. For the first time today, Jackson desperately wants it to come closer.

Jackson hobbles after the voice. The stiffness in his legs is worse after sitting still for so long. His torso flares with old, inhibiting pain with every hurried step. His head lolls, too heavy. Jackson’s fighting through mud, not air, limping after the one person who might actually be able to help him.

The ache in his legs finally, finally gets to him; Jackson stumbles and falls. Shaking tremors work up his body, so violent Jackson has to lean against the wall to keep himself upright. He can’t stand. He should at least be able to sit. The cream wall behind him is smeared with red handprints, where his messy hands struggled to keep him upright.

“Wait. That’s- that’s not right.” The voice, that deep nasally voice- Jackson chokes on the hot lump in his throat. “There shouldn’t be any heat signatures. All the workers were evacuated from this part of the building, and it’s too small and bright to be a fully grown-”

The slick-slide of fabric. Fat, brisk steps. The faint whir of a machine working overtime. A tall young man rounds the corner and freezes, eyes blown wide. He flinches violently back at the sight of bloodied spandex and folded limbs.

“Help,” Jackson slurs. He thought the shaking would abate if he found another ally, but it doesn’t. It worsens. He’s too overstimulated. The shock is like a dam, blocking any relief and putting hot, prickling tears in his eyes.

The man sprints the few meters between him and Jackson. The slick-slide sound is so loud- why does this stranger sound like Dagur? The intruder’s suit is somewhat bulky yet light. Maybe- maybe it’s another kind of undersuit? Something he wears under there like an armor? Or maybe-

“Hey,” The man says, and he sounds panicked. “Hey, can you hear me?” Jackson hums, yes. He tries to nod his head, but it flops, rolls to the side, and doesn’t co-operate. “What happened?”

“Dagur. Turns out, he was right.” An arm snakes around Jackson’s neck, and the taller man tugs him closer. Jackson’s wet, ruined face presses against the man’s suit jacket. “No- no- I’m too dirty-”

“I don’t care,” The man says. The taller man is vehement, oddly so. He presses gentle fingers over the bulky collar, with it’s warped pieces sitting snug against the base of Jackson’s throat, finger-shaped bruises blooming on skin beneath it. “Oh, my gods…”

Jackson’s ruined fingers latch onto the man’s shirt. He doesn’t feel safe yet, but the guy is warm. He’s not hurting him. He’s an anchor to Jackson, who’s been floating and lost all day.

“Did you come for me?” Jackson chokes. Maybe the Big Four had managed to call someone under the Guardians before being out of the Earth’s satellites. He didn’t think anyone was coming. He didn’t think he was allowed this kind of help.

The guy hesitates for a long moment. “No,” He admits, and Jackson swallows, “I’ve been suspicious of Dagur for a long time. I knew he was up to something, and I’d been in his servers, so when I got the report that he had his basement levels evacuated without reason, I snuck in.”

“Sorry. No big conspiracy. ‘s just me.” Jackson’s fingers slip from the man’s button up. He feels less like he’s going to hyperventilate again, less stressed, just this heavy, empty kind of tiredness. “I’m a pretty sucky Christmas present, I know. You wasted your time for nothing.”

The man doesn’t let Jackson go, though. He holds on, even as Jackson’s thoughts haze over, body going loose. “Stay with me,” The guy whispers against his bloody forehead. “I’m going to get you out of here if it’s the last thing I do.”

Concussions really do suck. Or maybe it’s the extended exposure to electric shocks; that cant be good for the human body. Or maybe it’s the knife wound, or blood loss, or good old fashioned shock that’s sending Jackson in and out of awareness, everything blurry and distant. He tries to grab hold of his surroundings and pull himself into coherency, but his body won’t co-operate. For the first time in a while, his spider-sense is quiet. His body takes that as a sign to shut off.

Jackson barely registers that he’s being carried. He barely hears the sound of a vehicle door opening before he’s slid onto leather seats.

Someone sucks in a sharp gasp. “Gods, what happened to him? Is that a collar?!”

Jackson’s head lolls. He squints up at a blonde young woman, peering over the front seat at him. “Dag-fart,” he informs her, seriously.

The man’s surprised bark of laughter is nice. The other woman smiles, but the edges are wrong; she’s too sad for it to be real. “Heroes are really all the same, huh?” she says.

“Yup,” The guy says with delight. “Dag-fart. Oh, that is too good. Remind me to change his name to that in absolutely everything.”

“I’m surprised Dagur let you leave, Hiccup-”

“He didn’t, Astrid. I had Fishlegs map us a path back up to you so that we avoided the snake. I’m not sure he would have let me leave with him, and I couldn’t risk fighting Dagur. Jack Frost needs help too badly.”

“How long did he have him?” Astrid asks. She doesn’t sound very happy, Jackson notes.

“I don’t know,” Hiccup says with a choked tone Jackson’s soupy, useless mind can’t quite understand. “I didn’t even know he was missing. He didn’t even call for help-”

“I did,” Jackson says. He’s half-guessing that they’re talking about him, but he needs them to know that he’s not this useless. He can tie his own shoes, fight his own baddies, and knows when to call for reinforcements when necessary. Even if he doesn’t have any reinforcements available to him just yet. The concept of real, dependable allies- outside the sudden, accidental appearance of this stranger, who’s assistance is born from moral responsibility rather than anything more tangible, like friendship- is still foreign. An unlockable feature Jackson hasn’t gotten to yet.

“Daredevil’s secretary is bad at his job,” Jackson slurs up at the man.

“Yeah, you’re definitely concussed there, Frost. Take it easy.”

Jackson squirms in his seat. “Thought I was- was going to die,” he admits, and then frowns. “Don’t let Dag-fart get my comic books, ‘kay?”

“Your comic books are safe,” Hiccup reassures. To the blonde young woman, he says, “Fly us home.”

“Got it,” says the woman, accompanied by the soft thrum of a powerful engine as they rocket away from Oswald Tower and the monster stalking it’s halls.

Hiccup lets Jackson go limp against him. His stab wound drips onto expensive leather, and he’s wetting the guy’s fancy suit, and he’s probably a bony, uncomfortable weight on the guy, their relationship not close enough for this easy contact, but the guy doesn’t push him off, just gathers him closer. And when fingers card through Jackson’s damp hair, he leans into the touch, relaxes, and doesn’t think about the monster hidden beneath Dagur’s skin.

[a-day-in-the-life-of-a-brotha]

5-1-21 Bills and retro thoughts.

4:00 a.m.- I hit the snooze button up until 4:45...then I straight up turned it off and went back to sleep.

5:18 a.m.- “Shit, I’m late”...well at this point I might as well take my time. On this morning I don’t have to stop to get cigarettes, nor do I HAVE to stop to get two egg and cheese biscuits...but I will. My Dani love sent me a message to get up at 4:10, but it’s her day off and I expect her to be sleep...to no avail.

5:30 a.m.-out of the shower taking my sweet ass time. Dani calls “Hey babe” she says “Yo” is what I say. She can sense a sense of urgency with me so she asked “Are you still in the house?” “Yep I reply.” Short quick answers and a YO is not how I normally engage her. She was going to give me space to get ready, but I denied that.

5:45 a.m.- At McDonald’s, on the phone with Dani, and a car in front me in line (it’s never usually a car there because I’m usually in line before 5:30 a.m.. “Two biscuits, with round eggs and cheese...a larger sleight iced sweet tea, and a Big Breakfast.” Now that Big Breakfast is for Mr.D, my 87 year old shop supervisor. He’s a good man, and he literally built the place that drains the lifeblood out of us, makes millions via government contracts, and probably doesn’t pay Mr.D the wealth that he is due. I called Mr.D, with my Dani still in my ear, to let him know that I was going to be late. I pushed like shit to work...I have the strong ethic, moral, work code and I don’t like to be late. Although it’s a straight plantation I’m rushing to, and it’s a slave mind that drives me not to be late that I’m coherent to...I still don’t like to be late.

6:05 a.m. I’m 5 mins late. “Aww right now” says Mr. D (His signature greeting in the Morning, Afternoon, Night, when ya walk by him, when ya need something, when ya don’t need nothing etc). I hand him his food, complain about the night crew not doing anything, then I scurry off to smoke a jack and eat. That get me to thinking about a narcissistic experience I had last Thursday...

Frustration #1 -Level 1000. This is just one example of how my co-parenting has been with my children’s mother for almost 15 years. Bbbbrrriinnngg (phone ringing) “Hello” I said “Hello what’s up” she said. “Look, when are you being the children back, they have a dentist appointment tomorrow at 5” she spews. “Uhh tomorrow, I can bring them back tomorrow” says I. “Well, that will be pushing it”, she’s referring to how long it will take me to get to her home and the dentist office because I work Friday-Tuesday and I get off at 2:30p.m.. Now, it takes about 45-1 hr to get to her place...I could act make it up there and get them to the dentist on time, shit, before 5...bringing them back on Friday is viable for me. “Well bring them back Monday, I can schedule the appointment for 3p.m.” “I’m not going to make by 3pm”...Now if SHE truly thinks that making it up to her by 5pm is “pushing it” why in the fuck would think i could make it by 3?? Ahhh...here it comes, the narcissism...I see it plain as day now. Just to fuck with me she’s starting something. I also know now that this behavior is rooted in a perverted insecurity to control EVERYTHING!! “Why can’t you make it on Monday? You know I don’t have a car!! Uggh...I’ll just do it myself like I always do, bring them back Sunday!” “Umm ok”. Her not having a car is not my responsibility, why blame me for that? She doesn’t always do things on her own, hell I’ve been there since before day one helping raise our children!! I’m not a deadbeat, she’s not a single mother with no help, she’s a mother whose single!! I have ALWAYS went all out for my children, financially, emotionally, physically, spiritually...you know...the things o deserve no accolade for...just regular Dad duties. This used to get me upset. Now I know where this behavior comes from. She’s a narcissist with me in particular. Men come and go, and I assume she wonders why. She needs healing, so do/did I. The latter part of this conversation was unnecessary...

10:44 a.m.- I’m at work...it’s the moment of now...tbc...

2:30 p.m.-I leave the plantation, full of energy and angst to get to this bbq spot that my online Call of Duty playing, homies own. I’ve known them for about 14 years now. We’ve hung out several times, we know each other’s families, they respect me...even though...well...even though. I’m just not from their hood is all.

2:50 p.m.- I’m on the phone with my Dani, per normal...I miss her being physically next to me, but for now our myriad of conversations will do. She’s different, I felt it when I virtually met her...she’ll be here for the rest of my life and I to hers...I know it. Nonetheless I’m about to purchase a plate of food I don’t eat, I’m a vegetarian. “Babe, why are you about to buy something you don’t eat?” “Because I want do some a review on them” I say. “ I know, but you should go somewhere, where you can eat” she says. It does make perfect sense to me...but I’m stubborn and my big headedness is dead set on patronizing this black owned business, plus, I’m an official food reviewer. I go in and order, o already scoped out the menu and I knew what I wanted...to pretty much give away. A crab cake, seafood Mac, lamb chops, and collards is what I order...$55 bucks. “Damn” I say in my head...shit I might have said it aloud. Dani is ever so quite in the background, still attached to my ear (I got a dated Bluetooth in my ear, but it serves its purpose...those Bluetooth’s that only niggas that wear pink or lime colored gators have...Them Uncle Father ass niggas). As I’m ordering...I see the youngin that was a baby at one point in life, whose the child of a brother I use to game with. “Young Kage!!” I exclaimed. “Is that Stryker?” “Yep, it’s me, what’s good...is anybody else back there?” Now when I said anybody else, I meant the brothers that I gamed with for 14 years...but he said “Nah, ain’t nobody here, and B just left.” It still was good to see the establishment and how these cats made some from nothing. I get my expensive ass meal that I’m not going to eat and head home...I made a stop a Chipotle for me and then excitedly proceeded to my sisters spot, who lives in the same complex as I. Dani, my love, went to dinner herself with Ari her daughter...she already was hip to send me a review on whatever they got...she pays me attention...one aspect of why I love her so. Tam, Somaia, and Jahi...LOVE the meal. I look at them eating it and I truly wanted to indulge. But nah...let me stay disciplined with my vegetarian regiment.

8:00 p.m.-I’m home...chillin...waiting for Dani to call. I fall asleep with her on the phone. This day was less frustrating via my interaction with less people. I still am always aware of my surroundings, who I am, and how I’m looked at. The worlds course outlook on is, never fades or goes away.

[imaginationcemetary]

Angst queen again. Omg your hcs are amazing. I found my new favorite Tumblr blog. Anyways, NM, Dream, Ink, and Error when (the kid is in their teens and can travel aus) runs away? Reactions is they find them both dead and alive? Thank you! And also have a boy 🦔

Awwwww thank you darling, high compliments! I’m glad you think I’m up to snuff, it really makes my day! *Snuggles the boy!* 🦔 What a cute spikey ball of doom. He can be the new conductor of the angst train. Choo choo~!

Sorry it took so long to get this one out, tumblr was having some issues and it ate the response I was working on so I had to start over. Hope this is worth the wait! (Got your other ask, don’t worry, I’m working on that one too)

Ink’s child runs away:

Ink isn’t worried, this isn’t the first time one of his kids have decided to take a joy ride through the au’s. He found the last one no problem after all. They probably just got bored and wanted to have a little fun. He takes a moment to think of all the most likely au’s his kid could have gone to first and then gets in contact with his allies to wrangle them into helping him look for them.

Best case scenario, he finds his kid in one of the tamer au’s, causing mischief and making friends. He’s have a talk with them about why they left, and proper dimension hopping safety procedures. He’ll make sure they talk to him before they decide to run off on an another adventure, and probably invite them out on more of his own so they don’t feel left out.

Worst case scenario? Ink heads to the place he found his last runaway kid…with Error. He gets there too late, just in time to find the poor kiddo already dusting. They regret running away and reach out for him, asking for help with their last words. This isn’t fun anymore, they think. Ink’s face goes blank as he’s overwhelmed with his failure to protect his kid, hand reaching out for theirs just as their dust starts to fall. One job. He has one job and he fucked it up. He leaves the pile of dust and starts hopping through au’s, hoping to find an au version of his kid to bring home with him.

Error’s child runs away:

I could think of a lot of reasons Error’s kiddo might run away. They could be fighting, the kid could feel neglected, maybe they just want the chance to see something great happen before their dad comes around to ruin it. What matters though, is that Error has that moment of pissed off concern that any parent that gave half a shit about their kid has when they can’t find them. He gives it a little bit of time, hoping they’ll come home on their own before he goes out looking for them.

Best case scenario, the kid comes home on their own, safe and sound. They’ll get grounded of course, but Error will be more relieved to see them than upset.

Worst case scenario? Error can’t find his kid while he’s out searching and they don’t come home on their own. In an anxiety induced rage he goes on a destructive rampage destroying au after au. He accidentally deletes the coding for the au his kid was hiding out in and never finds out where they went.

Dream’s kid runs away:

Dream would panic the moment he realized that his kid wasn’t anywhere to be found. But they’re a teenager right? They usually have their phone on them, so he calls them and texts them trying to get into contact with them, hoping they only forgot to tell him they were going out. No such luck, they don’t answer any of his attempts to reach out to them. He goes looking, first in the softer au’s, then the more dangerous ones. The kid probably ran away because they felt like Dream babied them too much.

Best case scenario, Dream finds his kid hanging out and taking shelter somewhere safe. They have a long talk about why the kid ran away and go home together. The kid is snuggled to death and Dream would try to stop babying them so much.

Worst case scenario? The kid wanted to help. They wanted to do what their dad does but he didn’t think they were old enough to do dangerous things like that. They snuck out and tried to play hero but it wound up biting them in the ass. Dream finds a pile of dust and their favorite coat after hours of searching. He’s absolutely heartbroken and the guardian of hope finds that he has none left. Tendrils of grief, despair, guilt, and self hatred plunge into his golden soul, corrupting it.

Nightmare’s kid runs away:

Nightmare is not the easiest guy to be around, he tries his best, but he’s just such an ass sometimes and little things tend to get out of hand with him. His kid might’ve run away because they were tired of having so many harsh and complex feelings without anyone to talk to them about. Nightmare would blame himself entirely and internalize this as just another reason why he’s the worst. He’s such a bad guy even his own kis wants nothing to do with him. He’ll spend a bit feeling sorry for himself before he guilty himself into getting off his ass to go look for his kid.

Best case scenario, he finds them with uncle Dream, talking about their problems in a way he couldn’t help them with. The kiddo is convinced to go home, but Dream offers to take the kid out once a week so they don’t feel like they have no one to talk to, and Nightmare tries to work on his communication skills.

Worst case scenario? The kid winds up in one of the seedier au’s and someone lures them away with the promise of a kind ear to listen with. Instead the kid gets kidnapped by the creep and murdered. Nightmare finds out when he’s passing through searching because the person was bragging about it to one of their buddies. Nightmare flies off the handle and spears them both through the gut with his tentacles, watching the life drain from their eyes. He doesn’t stop there though, he goes on an absolute rampage, spearing and ripping anyone in the vicinity apart until there’s no one left and he’s kneeling on a dirty street corner surrounded by dust and viscera crying his heart out.

[kuchee]

happy zutaraang valentines @cruria​!! ❤️💛💙 I hope you enjoy this post-canon, slice of life snippet🙂

Zuko takes a brief glance around the room at the numerous groups of people huddled around the communal fire before shifting closer to Aang. Not surprisingly, there isn’t much to do holed up in the Southern Water Tribe in the middle of winter – at least, for those unused to sub-freezing temperatures – especially when you’re approaching the third evening of festivals and meetings.

Even considering that, Aang seems particularly preoccupied, uncharacteristically sitting in a corner and bothering no one. Not even Momo’s inquisitive purrs on his shoulder are able to distract him. 

Zuko cranes his neck. “What are you doing?” he hisses, not wanting to draw the curiosity of anyone surrounding them. People here are much more relaxed around royalty than anyone ever is back in the Fire Nation, but Zuko still manages to draw his share of attention. On the far side of the great room, through the dancing embers of the fire in the middle, he can see Chief Hakoda and his family in a loose circle. Sokka says something with a sceptical expression, which makes Hakoda throw his head back in laughter, ruffling Katara’s hair next to him. Zuko hides a smile by aiming it at the ground. It’s odd that Aang isn’t sitting with them.

“Braiding,” Aang says, belatedly. He sticks his tongue out in frustration, eyes almost bulging to discern something in his lap in the dim light. His hands are working in sharp, repetitive movements. 

“What is that?” 

In response, Aang presents the palm of his hand, a thick strip of elaborately woven threads in the middle of it. “Hemp fibre,” he mutters, picking up another thread from a pouch next to him, before hanging it between his teeth to measure, a little cross-eyed. “From the Earth Kingdom, I got it from that agricultural village we went to last month.” He twists the stiff threads with quick precision. 

“You’re making a bracelet,” Zuko says. Watching Aang’s technique jogs his memory. “...Like the monks’ lucky bands you told me about.” 

Aang glances up with a grin, brief but dazzling. “Yeah. You remembered.” He hands the item to Zuko for inspection. Zuko takes it carefully, trying not to tangle the loose ends. He holds it up to the firelight. It’s impressive – he can spot several types of knots and twists with no clue of how they could be combined so elegantly. 

“Gran-Gran offered me seal-gut string which is smoother, but I don’t think the monks would have liked that.” 

Zuko laughs and hands it back. “For Katara?” He can guess easily enough from the sheepish way Aang looks at him, not to mention the rapt attention he gives the task. That’s why they aren’t sitting together. 

“Yeah. So it’s not really for luck, I guess, it’s just– a gift.”  

Zuko nods and continues observing Aang braid the threads in silence. 

The scraps of conversation around the circle merge into one hazy murmur as he watches. Zuko relishes the peace and quiet, the opportunity to simply watch. It’s a peculiar thing to observe an Air Nomad tradition, just as it’s peculiar to be invited to the Southern Water Tribe, and to be there willingly in the depth of winter. The strangest parts of his new life as Fire Lord are in the little details, not the big responsibilities. 

Aang scrunches up his eyebrows and curses lowly, undoing a knot he just made. Zuko smirks to himself. When he thinks of Aang in action, it’s the sheer prowess of the Avatar’s fighting skill that crosses his mind; or alternatively, his skill of mediating. He never really gave thought to Aang’s hobbies, though watching him now, it seems to entail the same eerie patience that Zuko finds equal parts frustrating and inspiring.

Zuko thinks he’s the opposite. Uncle would probably say he hasn’t had the privilege to think about mundane arts and crafts in years, but Zuko doesn’t think that’s true – he’s just not that kind of guy.

He remembers he used to like fire-writing when he was a kid, though he was never any good at it. The tsungi horn, too, was something he reluctantly came to enjoy, once he stopped having tantrums over being forced to learn it. 

Anything so frivolous disappeared forever with his banishment.  

Aang’s eyes reflect the low firelight as they flit across the threads.

“How long is it gonna take you?” Zuko asks, if only to distract himself from the sneaking ache that seeps into him, watching Aang in focus. How does someone go through all that he has – all they both have – and still get excited about making trinkets? 

“Pretty long... I’ve been working on it at almost every gathering this week,” Aang says. He adds meekly, “it’s a complex braid, but I want her to have the prettiest one so…” He laughs nervously, his expression morphing quickly as he thinks of something to change the subject. “Wait – let me show you something – hold this for a minute.” 

Zuko holds on to the bracelet again while Aang digs around in the pouch. It’s ludicrously simple and plain compared to the kind of jewellery he’s grown up around – everything here is. He imagines it tied around Katara’s skinny wrist; how suitable it would be. He imagines tying it around her wrist himself, a thought so abrupt and unjustified that he blames it on all the ceremonial hand-clasping they’ve been doing for the past few weeks – as pioneers of the new, restorative relationship between their homelands. Zuko had promised to see it done before the anniversary of the end of the war, gravely underestimating how many lengthy community discussions and presentations it would take. That’s why he’s here, six months later. He can’t say he minds. 

“This,” Aang says, carefully unspooling another thread, so delicate that Zuko’s eyes can only make out the thin lines when they catch the light of a wayward flame, “I got this from Toph– well, I got her to make it.”

Zuko might have judged prematurely about the plainness. It’s silver – probably pure silver, like the embroidery on the expensive robes worn in court parties. Glinting like sunlight trapped by the ocean. Zuko finds it hard to believe there’s even a trace of impurity in that, marvelling as ever at Toph’s abilities. “That’s gonna be the finishing touch,” Aang says.

Zuko nods approvingly. He wonders idly how Mai would have reacted to something like that. “It’s a really nice gift for your girlfriend.” 

Aang recoils slowly, shaking his head. “What–no. It’s not really for that, it’s just a nice thing to do. I mean, it’s special, obviously, but that’s not because we’re dating – I think we are, anyway – but that wouldn’t make sense since I’m making—” he stops short, “Uh.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Aang says, his voice rising an octave. He looks away from Zuko and straightens his posture, staring into the distance as if something foreboding just dawned on him. “Nevermind.” He scratches the back of his head before returning to Zuko with a strained smile.  

Zuko frowns. “Sure, okay. Whatever.” He doesn’t bother to even pretend to know what goes on in Aang’s head. “Do you want to go get something to eat?” 

_____

He finds the bracelet amongst his belongings weeks later, identical to the one he had found Aang braiding except for the line of spun gold weaving into each pattern. He’s a few hours away from the dock in the South Pole already. The unostentatious homeliness of the place is already vanishing dismally quickly, and with each minute, the severity and spectacle of the Fire Nation court looms closer. He smiles and puts it on. 

[strawberry-skies-xx]

you wingless thing

C H A P T E R    F O U R

tags: rape/non-con, dead dove: do not eat, geralt / jaskier, original female character, original male character, angst with a happy ending, angst, angst and feels, rape, past rape/non-con, implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced abuse, emotional hurt/comfort, psychological abuse, emotional abuse, emotionally repressed, fae jaskier, fae magic, hurt jaskier, torture, revenge, past torture, hurt/comfort, past abuse, jaskier whump, feral jaskier, creature jaskier, inhuman jaskier, eventual happy ending, love confessions, idiots in love, wing kink, homoerotic wing grooming

author’s note: and now it gets sad!

scheduled mondays, wednesdays, fridays.

main masterlist | story on ao3 | next chapter >>

It takes them three months before they come across a town large enough to have a mage powerful enough to undo the enchantments surrounding Jaskier’s dimeritium collar. By then, Jaskier and Geralt have settled into an easy rhythm of living, moving like water around each other, knowing exactly where the other will be. Jaskier stays at camp when Geralt goes into town, and more than once Geralt has returned to find Jaskier hiding the bodies of bandits - or, on one memorable occasion, the body of a drowner, covered all over in small dagger marks.

Jaskier can’t change from his sapphire doublet until he gets his collar off and can’t use a glamour to change clothes without having to cut slits for his wings, so Geralt tries to wash the outfit as best he can in nearby rivers and streams. It works for the most part - the monster blood leaves dark stains, though, and Geralt expects the fae to complain, but he never does. When Geralt asks, Jaskier says he’d be happy to let the whole outfit burn when he can.

Occasionally, Jaskier sings - though most of the time he talks about anything and everything, which… would be annoying, but Geralt finds he’s gotten used to it; but if anyone asked, he would deny to his final breath that he likes the familiar sound of Jaskier’s chatter. His singing is one of the only times that the fae’s trapped magic works against anything. It weaves itself into the air every time, making foreign emotions rise up in Geralt, images flash through his mind, and sensations dance across his skin from memories that aren’t his own as the fae’s lilting voice rises up into the trees.

Geralt saves enough coin for Jaskier’s own bedroll within a week, but more often than not he still finds the fae’s lithe body curled up against him, wings spread over the both of them and providing more warmth than any fire they could’ve built. He doesn’t really mind; at least he knows Jaskier is safe and warm when he’s curled against him than when he’s sleeping across from the fire. Geralt has never doubted his senses before, but he has never needed to protect anyone other than himself - which, he isn’t suicidal, but he has accepted the fact that death will come to him eventually on the Path. He doesn’t worry too much about himself if he doesn’t wake up in time, but just thinking about the idea of not waking up in time to save Jaskier makes a sort of panicked, protective energy rise in his chest.

One day out from the town, they’re sitting around their campfire with the stars shining above them and the moon rising high in the sky. Jaskier is oddly silent, tearing up a leaf between his fingers and humming a quiet tune under his breath. There’s a heavy silence over them both - they know that if the sorceress is powerful enough to undo the complex enchantments around Jaskier’s collar, and forge a key to unlock it, their lives will change. For Jaskier, it will be his magic; he will have gotten the other half of himself back; he’ll be whole again. And for Geralt… he’ll have to get used to being alone again. There’s no chance that the fae will still want to travel with him, once he’s free and able to do whatever he wants with his magic. Geralt… hasn’t exactly come to terms with this, so he tries not to think about it, and instead looks up at the fae where he sits across the fire.

“You’re quiet,” Geralt says. Jaskier stops humming and looks up, fingers stilling on the half-shredded dead leaf.

Geralt meets his eyes for a silent moment before Jaskier glances down first, shaking his head slightly. His hair falls over his face and Geralt has the absurd urge to run his fingers through it. “I know. It’s just…” He trails off with a soft laugh, lips curling in a small smile.

“It’s not guaranteed,” Geralt says quietly, because he knows the excited energy around Jaskier and he doesn’t want the fae to be hurt if the sorceress can’t get the collar off. Jaskier’s smile fades and he nods.

“I know,” he says softly, solemnly.

Geralt glances down, watching the fire dance and the embers rise into the air. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he says, pauses. “I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he adds, nearly a whisper, but Jaskier hears it anyway, continuing to shred the leaf in his hands. They don’t meet each other’s eyes.

“I won’t,” Jaskier replies, barely a breath and certainly not loud enough for any human to hear.

But Geralt isn’t human, and the two words reach his ears easily. They feel like a lie, and they both fall silent, considering what may or may not happen tomorrow.

Geralt stands up abruptly after a few moments and puts the fire out, laying on his bedroll and waiting for Jaskier to walk over and curl next to him in the quickly-chilling air, wings draping over them both.

Geralt doesn’t sleep that night, too focused on savoring his last night of having Jaskier’s familiar warmth next to him, and a soft, lilting voice breathing I won’t repeating in his head.

Geralt wakes Jaskier early, before even the sun has started to rise. He doesn’t want anyone to see his wings, so the earlier they get to the mage’s house and safely inside, the less chance there is that there will be some townsfolk outside. He only hopes that they will leave with Jaskier’s magic released and a glamour on, because the noble’s mansion the mage has occupied is in the center of town and there’s no back exit they can leave from.

Jaskier groans, still half-asleep, but they move through their routine as easily as ever, and Geralt allows himself to enjoy the way Jaskier’s dark hair is still tousled and his voice is fuzzy with sleep. Geralt wants to be able to see Jaskier like that every time he wakes up, to always have the fae next to him in the morning - but he won’t. He has to accept that Jaskier will leave him once he’s free, no matter how much it hurts him to do so.

They walk into the front room of the mansion, and the servant girl squeaks out a ‘yes, sir’ and rushes upstairs when they tell her what they’re here for. The mage comes down soon after, greeting them dressed in a sparkling black dress that sways gracefully around her ankles and kohl drawn delicately across her bright green eyes. She introduces herself as Nyla, and her glance flits between Geralt and Jaskier as they stand in the room, until it finally lands on Jaskier and idle curiosity fills her eyes as her lips curl up in a lazy smile.

“A fae and a Witcher,” she says slowly, leisurely. “That’s an odd combination to show up on my doorstep.”

Jaskier fidgets, the same kind of excited energy about him that Geralt had discouraged him from having. They’re not even sure whether this mage can take his collar off, but with his magic in almost arm’s reach, Geralt can’t blame the fae for getting his hopes up.

Geralt fixes Nyla with a steady glare. “We need his collar taken off. We’ll pay any price.”

She tilts her head, emerald eyes moving down Jaskier’s body slowly, considering. She steps forward, walking around Jaskier, and Geralt tenses as he watches the fae go perfectly still. He remembers another morning, before they had learned each other, and sleepy mumblings of Erynd’s name and pleas to stop. He feels the same panicked, protective energy rise in his chest again, and he has to force himself to keep still to prevent himself from attacking the mage, even as his fingers twitch and he focuses on the weight of his swords on his back.

Nyla’s long, thin fingers reach up as she walks behind Jaskier, and she smiles slowly, hands tracing along the edge of Jaskier’s wing. Jaskier’s eyes snap shut, his entire body falling unnaturally still, and Geralt hears his breath stutter before it evens out into a measured rhythm that speaks of forced calm against the clearly unwanted touch. Nyla digs her fingers beneath his feathers and Jaskier gasps softly, wings jerking away.

Geralt growls, anger surging through him suddenly, and Nyla only laughs, high and mocking. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt your little pet,” she purrs, causing fear to flood Jaskier’s scent and sting Geralt’s nose. He gives another low growl - how dare she insinuate that Jaskier is under anyone’s control. Geralt would sooner stab someone than let them control the fae again.

“He’s not my pet,” Geralt grits out - and the fear in Jaskier’s scent fades, though the tension doesn’t leave his body. It’s not hard to figure out why Geralt’s response was the one that made Jaskier less scared, and the Witcher wonders what in their month-long relationship ever made Jaskier think that Geralt expected that of him. He rescued him from Lord Erynd for a reason, and that was not to put him right back into captivity. Geralt laments the fact that he didn’t give Erynd a long, painful death, because Jaskier shouldn’t think that he’d be wanted as a pet before being wanted as a friend.

Nyla grins and shrugs, walking around Jaskier to the front to face him. “Fine. Then he can be mine. One month of the fae’s company alone, and I will take his collar off.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen, fear flooding right back into his scent. He freezes, blue eyes flicking to Geralt, and Nyla watches the two with that infuriating smirk on her face, eyes dancing with cruel amusement. Geralt wants to punch the expression off of her.

He’s fully prepared to say no, because he is not going to allow this entitled sorceress to take Jaskier and enslave him, again, but it’s not his decision to make. The heavy weight of Jaskier’s trapped magic drifts around him, as familiar as his own swords by now, and Geralt stays silent. He has no say in how Jaskier gets the other half of himself back, even if it’s in a way that goes against every protective fiber in his body, because he is not going to be like Lord Erynd and keep a creature as free and wild as Jaskier in captivity.

Jaskier shakes his head. “No,” he says, surprisingly confident despite the overwhelming, acrid scent of fear coming off of him in waves. “No. We can find another sorceress. You can find another to keep you company, but it won’t be me.”

Geralt watches as Jaskier turns around, raising his chin even as his fear increases. He takes a few steps forward, and Geralt is too focused on watching him leave to notice the deep frown on Nyla’s face and the harsh edge of anger in her scent before she lashes out, catching the edge of Jaskier’s wing and tugging hard.

Jaskier gasps sharply, turning around as Nyla lets go and leans back when Geralt’s sword presses dangerously against her throat. He’s extremely tempted to draw blood, but they’re already on the bad side of the sorceress and he’s not sure how that would increase their chances of leaving the mansion alive.

“Don’t touch him,” Geralt growls, his whole body tense with the anger and adrenaline rushing through him. Every sense is on high alert, hyper-aware of every small movement.

“He said no,” Geralt hisses. Nyla’s green eyes hold his, her magic drifting around the both of them, until Jaskier’s hand brushes lightly along Geralt’s arm.

“Geralt,” he says softly, almost pleading, and it’s only that which makes Geralt lower his blade and step back. Nyla glances between the two, slowly smirking as she redefines their relationship.

“It appears to be the other way around - the fae has made the Witcher his pet instead. Tell me, is it effective having a Witcher as a personal guard dog?” she asks.

Jaskier is silent, though Geralt can see the anger in every line of his body, and he’s mildly surprised at the sudden surge of sharp anger in the fae’s scent. It’s also the first moment since Geralt rescued Jaskier that his magic has responded to anything but his singing, and Geralt can smell the thunderstorm of magic stirring in the air around them, lashing out violently against the sorceress. Even if it doesn’t do anything, something warm fills Geralt at the proof of how quickly Jaskier would defend him - though, maybe the fae takes it as an insult to his honor rather than an insult to Geralt. He can never be sure, and it’s easier not to get his hopes up than be disappointed when Jaskier tells him he’ll leave him once he has his magic back.

“He’s my friend, not my pet,” Jaskier says, voice lethally soft and dripping with dark, dangerous promise.

Nyla shrugs, pretending to examine her nails. “Whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. There are no other mages powerful enough to undo those enchantments without having to travel hundreds of miles for it, and I’m sure you won’t be able to keep hidden for that long. Even three months has been a struggle, has it not?” she asks, tone knowing.

Jaskier’s anger doesn’t last long as she calls them out - because she’s right. Geralt barely got enough contracts for himself on a good week, and having to take care of a second person while hiding them? It was difficult, because the expenses that Geralt used to spend on inns were now spent on food for both of them, and ever since he earned his new title in Blaviken, coin has been running shorter than it’s ever been. Geralt finds himself hunting more often than not, and he thinks that by now, he knows the taste of dried jerky better than the taste of actual food.

His shoulders slump and his eyes flick to Geralt, wide and blue and apologetic. Geralt’s heart sinks as Jaskier looks back at the sorceress. “I accept, but Geralt has to stay. I will not cooperate without him.”

Nyla frowns, displeased emerald gaze darting between the two of them, before her expression smooths and she smiles, amusement replacing the displeasure in her eyes. It makes Geralt uneasy and even more wary than before, but they’re both at her mercy now and there’s not much he can do about it.

“Excellent!” she says brightly, and the last thing Geralt hears is the sound of her clap, and Jaskier’s surprised protest, before enchanted darkness takes him, quick and quiet.

next chapter >>

[devintrinidad]

Now a modern CAW au because why not.

1146 is a rich kid from a rich family of world famous doctors. He’s naturally expected to become a doctor himself one day and is a total nerd for biology. He has a very… Strong appreciation for white blood cells (for some reason he just really loves learning about them). He goes to a bording school and shares his firm room with 2001. Their dorm neighbors are 2626, 2048 and 4989. They’ve all known each other their whole lives and the others come from, not as wealthy, but still prestiges families.

2001 and 2048 are from Euroasia (and some made up country, shrugs) and the rumours are they come from a line of nobility. They neither confirm or deny it but they are gifted in various languages and are excellent in all areas of study. 2001 particularly excels in business math and law and 2048 in history and anthropology. They’re the smart ones and study nerds of the group. 1146, 2626 and 4989 aren’t dumb. But they are joked as being the dumb jocks of the group because they’d rather play sports then study in all areas besides what they like most. 1146 loves philosophy and molecular biology. 2626 likes programming and english. 4989 loves trigonometry and physics. 

But yeah outside those things those 3 have no ability to put in the effort beyond just barely passing in other homework assignments. They often plead to 2001 before big tests to please have mercy on their dumb inferior minds. 2201 always says they have themselves to blame. Then he caves and spends the whole night before the big test to help them prepare. It’s a vicious cycle that 2048 always escapes because he always finds excuses. At least initially. 2001 quickly gets fed up even though 1146 points out he’s never seen him sleep once despite always complaining about being tired. 2048 is the one who always riles the other 4 up to doing stupid stuff before any big test (after he’s done studying) so 2048 is the one who should be responsible for them. 

They’re also all part of a mixed martial arts after school club. No one else will join because they’re likely too scared since these boys are INTENSE. 

The boys are around 14 or something (do I know how bording schools work? No). 

The boys, 1146 in particular, get easily misunderstood. Most kids see then as violent nutcases because at the start of school they got into a huge bloody confrontation with the bullies (yep, human versions of viruses) that landed all of them in the hospital for a couple of weeks. Despite good intentions that event and the rumours surrounding the darker side of their families dealings get blown out of proportion. The boys are popular and seen as cool in a sense. But people keep their distance from them as assign exaggerated stereotypes to them. Girls from another bording school across the lake from them send valentine gifts to them and secret admirers like sending them notes. But no one wants to date or get to know them. Essentially besides some cool teachers, the 5 boys only have each other. They choose to not let it bother them (too much) and let their sense of justice drive them into battling the sneaky bullies who are honestly psychos who shouldn’t be allowed in society. But they are smart and never get caught so the boys can’t get caught challenging them or stopping their plots against the student body (see what I did there, puns). 

The killer T’s are the hall monitors and the boys are constantly either having alliances with them or sneaking past them for various reasons (stopping bullies or just goofing off). It’s a complicated relationship. 

Commander T is the president of the school council. 2001 and 2048 are members of the council and Killer T thinks that’s the only reason Commander T won’t let him bust that group for their obvious crimes against their authority (he’s mad 2626, 4989 and 2048 have pranked him in the past. Nothing personal, but he can’t stand 1146 being popular despite having just a scary reputation as he does). 

The lactic bacteria exist as dogs in this setting. Technically they’re owned by the philosophy teacher Basophil (the one teacher 1146 idolizes so much his friends worry it’s a mental disease. Eosinophil idolizes him too. But she’s in the other school and can only see him when she visits 1146. They’re 2nd cousins or something. Before the bording school, Basophil used to be their tutor when they were much younger) and run loose around the school. But they end up spending a lot of their time with 1146. He takes care of them a lot and they listen to him as much as they do Basophil (they’re either very Dumb dogs or very disobedient ones as. They go back and forth about not understanding the simplest commands to figuring out complex problems like opening doors or the refrigerator by themselves). 

The bording school has recently decided to have girls start attending (some fire happened and they want more students. Idk). Despite female students not offically attending  until a year later. One exception gets made.

Enter 10 year old 3803.

Both 3803’s parents were war medics who later became agents to a secretive defense group who track down foreign spies and take them out. They retired when they had 3803 and made a living as a cleaning service. One day 3803 gets kidnapped and her dad dies saving her. Her mom decides it’s too dangerous to be with her and makes the hard choice, for the time being, to give 3803 to a friend until she can hunt down her enemies (momma us Macrophage). 

3803 is given a new identity and sent to the bording school for her own protection. The friend who is taking care of her is 1146’s dad. He’s 1110 (their teacher from canon. That’s his number right?). He’s been in love with Macrophage ever since they met and fought in a war together. Unfortunately he was in a arranged marriage set up by his parents and she fell in love with someone else. His own marriage didn’t work out since his wife left him to pursue her own stuff. 1146 was left with abandonment issues from that and because his mom was always cold to him and didn’t hide the fact she never wanted him.

1110 is a very warm and affectionate father to 1146. Wanting to make up for lack of love he received from his mother. 1110 is very supportive and happy to let 1146 experience life in matters his own strict distant parents never allowed him. But he worries because 1146 likes to act like he’s fine but he’s very closed off. 1110 worries 1146 will never open up to anyone besides the select few he grew up with. 

To 3803, 1110 quickly sees her as the daughter he never had with Macrophage. He becomes very overprotective and nurturing of her. Wanting her to feel safe and hopeful her mother will someday come back alive. He also hopes beyond hope that his son will one day fall in love with her (when they’re much older) because he really wants her to be his daughter. Pretty much why he refuses to adopt her despite Macrophage saying it would be a good idea (he thinks it’s too much like giving up on Macrophage surviving her ordeal. He wants to believe Macrophage will live and come home to 3803 again. Ecspecially after everything she’s doing to protect her daughter). 1110 spends 3 months helping 3803 recover enough and explaining her new situation. He chats with 1146 over a secret line (yes 1146 was taught by his military dad how to have secret phone calls) about 3803 and her situation. He doesn’t expect anyone to come after her or figure out she’s there (he’s doing a lot of work on his end too) but he still wants his son to look after her and be her friend.

When 1146 sees her, he thinks she’s younger then she actually is. She’s dulled eyed and looks ready to jump out of her own skin. Which he can imagine why after everything she’s been through and now, for the year, being the only girl in a all male school (1110 in a sweet tone threatened to take down the entire school of she wasn’t properly cares for). When he approaches her, she immediately perks up and asks if he’s Mr 1110’s son. After that 1146 isn’t sure how he ended up walking her to his club while she chatters faster then a hummingbird hums and latching on to his hand and swinging it back and forth.

1146 updated his friends on her situation so they know they’ll most likely be seeing her a lot and to be extra nice to her. Because he’s self aware enough to know he’s going to be bad at it. He already made her almost burst into tears when he replied with a maybe after Killer T laid down the laws and threatened to throw anyone who breaks them into confinement. He also knows he can trust his friends with such a big secret

She’s really clingy with 1146 initially. It’s weird and a new thing. But he doesn’t dislike it.

1146 and 3803 first really bond (after a few awkward weeks) when they’re alone and he’s studying for his anatomy class. She keeps asking him what the pictures are about. He explains what each cell does and gets more and more excited to talk about the topic when she gets more and more amazed. His friends tease him about his fascination with cells and think he should have been one instead. 3803 is the first to genuinely be very interested in listening and sharing his desire to talk about them. Afterwards 3803 declares she loves red blood cells and is going to be like them. A mailwoman who gets her packaged delivered no matter what. It’s the first time both really smile at each other and he feels a connection with her. 

After that he realizes he misses her a lot when she’s gone and almost gets jealous when she starts clinging to his friends too.

3803 loves to clean because She used to help her parents clean all the time. The boys mixed martial arts club is a pig pen to say the least. Completely dirty and just about unsanitary. Never been washed or dusted. Trash of junk food is littered everywhere. Dirty clothes just left hanging around. 3803 almost can’t believe what she’s seeing. She spends the next 3 days cleaning the entire club by herself and she won’t even let 1146 and the others come in. When they finally can it’s like a whole new room. They didn’t even know they had white wood floors. From then on 3803 becomes the club’s little cleaning lady. When 1146 tries to help her or tell her it’s not nessecary. She replies he’s not good at it and she likes to clean because it reminds her of mama and papa.

3803 ends up being a kindred spirit to the boys, 1146 in particular. She doesn’t have a bad reputation like they do. But for some reason she’s one of those people you expect to have a million friends but can’t even make one. She’s sweet and tries her best. But she gets overlooked easily for not standing out and she can’t find a way to connect with anyone her age. Even if her follow students are nice to her, no one invites her into their group. She’s also really bad at academics. She has to work twice as hard to be just average. This causes her a lot of stress. When 1146 comes by to check up on her after her math test (she studied really hard and holed herself up in her room so much she forgot to eat). He sees her dull eyed and unhappy, like she’s too sad to cry. A mean kid makes a snide comment she’s just naturally too dumb to change herself. Before he can intervene, 3803 determinedly says she can and she will and runs off to the library to study more. 1146 pats the kid on the shoulder and says nothing. Just stares until the kid pales in recognition of one of the Beserkers and flees like his life friends on it. From then on 1146 drags 2626 and 4989 to the library to be her study partners. If she’s determined to be good at everything she can be (and she says herself she’s not good at anything) then they can work harder to improve themselves on areas they’re weak in too. 2048 and 2001 will join them too (and be far more helpful at helping 3803 study then they will be with the other 3). 

3803 ends up becoming the club’s mascot. 4989 and 2626 dresses her up in a kendo outfit (then take the bokun sword away when she accidently hits 1146 in a… Sensitive area.  They don’t explain to her why it was so painful for him). 

3803 gets a pen pal from the other school. It’s 5100 and the two quickly establish a close connection. 5100 often sends seperate letters addressed to the boys, outraged 3803 isn’t getting the girl stuff she needs. 5100 proclaims not only is she going to be visiting her but she’s decided to transfer to their school next year so they better have 3803 involved in stuff she would be doing if she had girl friends who liked the same stuff.

She sends them a list of things 3803 told her she missed doing with her momma and wished she had 5100 here with her already. They are a bunch of dumb boys who don’t know a thing about girls. They do the best thing they can. They youtube how to do everything on the list. 

(In this au 3803 has longer hair for this scene alone). 2626 takes over hair stuff. Her momma used to make her hair pretty and put it in all sorts of styles and decorations. He nearly has a heart attack when she says Ow when he brushes her now messy hair too hard. He’s not brave enough to trim her hair and layer it. So he gives himself a pat on the back when he can put her hair into a ponytail. His next goal is pigtails. 

2001 takes her to cutesy maid cafes where where they drink tea and eat cookies. 2001 gets fawned over by the maids because they think he’s hanging out with his cute sister, who they take pictures with and give free samples to. 2001 isn’t sure what to do when the maids want his phone number for a tip so he leaves a gwnedous amount of cash and walks away really fast while while 3803 skips along holding his hand and begging to go back there again (he thought he got the easy one. Liitle 2001 isn’t as cool headed as adult 2001).  

2048 takes her clothes shopping. He first ends up picking out clothes he likes. But when she gets mistaken for a boy a few times he decides to let her go solo. She picks a onsie cat suit for pajamas. Cute but not exactly the clothes he was told to get. Eventually they wander into girl sports area and a worker has mercy on him and helps him pick out cute sports shorts, shoes and shorts for girls her age. 3803 is very energetic so she likes them a lot.

Both 1146 and 4989 are in charge of baking sweets. The most they know is throw a ramen cup into the microwave after adding water so their first attempt is kind of bad. She has to stop them from adding olive oil instead of vegetable oil to a cake mix. They can’t remember if the mix used to be a vanilla or chocolate cake after baking it. They find their groove when 4989 discovers youtube channels about making awesome designer cakes. One about a cake shaped like a boat and layered with Kit Kats charms all three of them. After that 4989 become a baking fiend! Except his food is never good because he focuses more on creative design then taste. 3803 has to be there to remind him what actually tastes good.

All of them engage in axe throwing (Macrophage would definitely make axe throwing a mother daughter thing). 3803 actually has really good aim. But she sadly says mama could throw a perfect aim backwards (that is a thing. It’s awesome). All of them compete to see who can learn that maneuver first in order to teach 3803 (3803 says mama’s rule is 3803 can’t learn a axe move unless it’s from someone else who’s mastered it).

They all treat 3803 like a little sister. Except 1146. He sees her as a kindred spirit he can relate to and see as his equal. He’s the only one who notices when she’s sad and that she stays up late at night, staring out the window in endless starry darkness. It reminds him a lot back when he used to wonder what he did wrong to ruin his family (it took him a long time to believe he wasn’t the cause of his family falling apart). He knows 3803 is feeling the same thing. At first he just watched her secretly. Then he moved to sit next to her and silently sat there together until she was ready to move. Eventually they both opened up about how they want to feel like they can be better again. 

One day 3803 gave them all salty treats. She said she wanted to give them something good for this day and she knows they prefer salty and bitter over sweet stuff. Months later they realize that day was Valentine’s day and she received NOTHING from anyone. They panic and start cooking up a grand present to give her in both thanks and apology. 3803 didn’t mind and wasn’t expecting anything from them. She actually got a ton of heart shaped chocolates from 1110 and 5100 so she felt good that day. 

When next year comes so do the female students. Among them are 5100 who instantly starts mothering 3803 and going big sister/best friend mode. Eosinophil who joins the Mixed martial arts club and, with 5100, joins the hall monitors for the female part of the dorms. Alongside her is NK. Who quickly butts heads with Killer T and establishes she’s the top hall monitor now and her people (5100 and Eosinophil) will be smarter then his (they have a history. Their families thought about a arranged marriage for them. But all it took was one meeting to nope out of that) in catching bad behavior. 

3803 always looks to NK for safety or help as far as the two lead hall monitors go. Even if Killer T is right there. He tries not to feel irritated (he fails) or bad that that’s probably because she’s scared of his rough attitude. NK at least acts competent and only yells at people who insult her first (unless it’s Killer T). 

When the girls go to a overseas trip somewhere. 1146 isn’t panicked at all and us perfectly confident she’ll be fine in the older girls care. That is until she’s gone and he syarts reading news reports on abduction or lost tourists and he calls his dad to bring up the helicopter. His dad is like sure son I was on my way to do this on my own. Lets make following her around a father son thing. Sure dad thanks for being on the same page! They spend the whole break trailing her and making sure she has a great time and doesn’t get lost or mugged. 

For while now 3803 has been trying to gain the reputation as a reliable delivery person. She always offers to take things for teachers and students from the council to other places and people. She gets lost in such a big school. But she slowly gains the cred she is willing and able to be trusted with jobs. It gets to the point she will be sent outside of school to deliver or pick up packages and it becomes a official student job. She has her own bicycle.

1146 secretly picked up sewing and knitting to make 3803 a beret hat (the one she has in canon) after she complained about how bright the sun is. He spends a long time on it. But he’s able to give it to her own her birthday. He even made it shaped like a red blood cell so she can be inspired. She loves it and never takes it off. She even sleeps with it.

Near Christmas the rivalry between the bullies and the squad gets more and more intense. It reaches it’s boiling point when they start picking on 3803. They see how she cleans up after the squad and treats them to baked goodies. They offer her payment of not bothering her 8f she does the same for them. But she refuses because the squad hates them and she’s scared of them too. They retaliate by grabbing her from her bedroom at night and locking her in a shack on the woods. Unfortunately for her It’s both a deadly blizzard that night and she starts freaking out because the last time she was abducted her dad died. She’s very afraid whoever got her (she knows it was the bullies. But they wore masks and she has no physical proof of them doing it) will hurt her friends. She breaks out if the shack and tries to find her way back as she can still see the school. However that’s when the blizzard starts and the school goes on lockdown mode. 5100 checks in on 3803 but finds her bed empty. Soon enough everyone is trying to find her. 1146 remembers the bullies messing with her earlier and, screwing consequences, corners the leader and starts wailing on him with his fists. Demanding to know where 3803 is. He tells 4989 to alert the teachers and and heads out into the dangerous snow storm to find her. Luckily for him Basophils dogs saw and followed her and one of them stayed with her while the other found 1146 and lead him to her. She’s not responsive to his calls. Her tears are frozen and she’s vshowing no signs of life. He carries her back by following the dogs and seeing the search lights ahead of him. She’s sent to the infirmary for the night and then taken to the hospital first chance they get in the morning.

Needless to say everyone goes berserk and the two groups really go at it. The teachers can’t even break them up at first. When things die down a bit and Killer T’s hall monitors help the teachers break up the fight. Everyone is sent to the infirmary to recover. Days later, after 5100 tells them about 3803’s descriptions of the masks, NK and Eosinophil show up with the masks matching 3803’s descriptions and having found them in the bullies club room. The bullies get expelled and are forced to fave the law.

From that moment 1146 decides to not become a doctor. He knows his true calling is a cop and tells his dad right away when he shows up to visit them. 1110 right away starts telling him he’ll research whatever he needs to fullfil his dream. 2001, 2626, 2048 and 4989 also decide to follow 1146. They all want to know how to protect people better (hey look I’m sneaking in the famous cop and mailwoman au!). 

When 3803 finally comes back everyone is excited! Then the boys realize in the time she was gone they let the club become twice as dirty then it was when she first cleaned it. They spend the entire time trying to clean the club to perfevtion because they know she’ll insist on cleaning. Eosinophil is the biggest slob of them all so she works extra hard to annihilate her filth.��

1146 makes it a habit to check on her every night and every morning. One morning she’s gone and he freaks out and nearly knocks 5100 down when he runs into her and tells her 3803’s missing! She calmly leads him to NK’s room and opens the door to reveal a snoring NK with a 3803 curled up like a kitten in bed with her. 3803 had a nightmare and went to the girls room to spend the night with one of them. 

When everyone but 3803 graduates years later, she promises to keep the club going and find people who will join it because she’s the mascot. To everyone’s shock, 2001 is the one who gets teary eyed first. She has to tell the boys not to cry only to start crying herself. They’re all going to miss each other.

3803 rooms with 4201 and the two end up running for school council,and recruiting people into the mixed martial arts club. 3803 and 1146 stay pen pals as he works hard to become a accomplished cop. They manage to meet later when 3803 is a young woman who’s graduated and about to attend her first job at the postal services. 1146 does a double take because 3803 is a woman. 2626 dryly points out duh obviously. But 1146 really sees her in a new light.

Yeah that’s it. I kind of plopped whatever thought came into my,mind all day so maybe there’s more. This ends the school life and morphs into the popular cop and mailwoman au. 1146 gets flustered by this new dynamic where he’s falling hard for her. She’s trying to sort out her adult life. Cancer probably shows up and there’s a murder mystery. Maybe 3803’s mom shows up or 3803 is confronted with the fact she’s probably dead. 1110 is a doting papa wolf who’s totally his son’s wingman. Shrugs. 

[bkblaise]

The Abandoned Empress Ch. 180

Translation by Artemistled Under the cut.

Because of the foggy-white tears that obscured my vision, I could not read the last sentence. With gritted teeth, I rubbed the wettening corners eyes raw. I couldn’t cry, especially after I had read that wishful message left from my father. Don’t cry.

Yes... I won’t cry, father.

Mumbling to myself, I attempted to gently fold the silver envelope away- yet, a letter that I had neglected to read before flashed into the corner of my vision.

A hole-in-the-wall kind of secretive place.

As soon as I saw the note, it was as if I had suddenly remembered long-forgotten memories- without a moment’s hesitation to gather my thoughts, my hand jerked to the backside corner of a nearby tapestry. Then, something sounded as if it were unwinding, followed not long after by a door scraped in various places; upwardly concave craters alongside dozens of strings of letters.

“Tia? What is this….?”

“There’s something I need to confirm. Will you come with me, Ruve?”

“.... Would that be alright with you?”

“It’s fine. As I’ve said since long ago, may the Goddess’s blessings be with you.”

“If you put it that way, then… gladly.”

With a light knod; as his attention diverted, I recited those words I had been bequeathed from my father on the day of my succession.

‘Gloria Moniqua, (Moniqua’s Glory.)’

Creak.

The door opened.

* * *

“What’s this?”

The man who had formerly been silent since their descent into the mysterious room, had asked. While I had been sifting through nearly arranged piles, I paused at his words, turning to face him. The direction he had been pointing towards our family’s ancient Coat of Arms- an elegantly decorated jewelry box where four spear stands used to be.

“Ah, that’s what I’ve been looking for. Thank you, Ruve.”

Receiving the box from him, I peered at the welded corners. No different than it been when I had followed my father in this room so long ago, where the lock should’ve been were instead several cogs emblazoned with various phrases.

Of course, it was here, right?

The box would only open with the designated password- the weight of this fact lay heavier on my shoulders still. Here, there was only this chest, one which I knew not of the contents within, and not only this but how father had previously affirmed that he would inform me of its use when the time was right.

I lingered my gaze at this box, that was not very big in size, before carefully tinkering with its gears to unscramble its phrase.

‘Superbia teli, (The pride of the lance)’

The second the final word was emplaced, with a rattle, the lid opened. At the object carefully laid upon the navy-blue velvet, I tilted my head.

“What’s this…?”

Inside this crate was a wand made of red ore. About the right length to fit in one hand, with small text hurriedly engraved on it. On one tail end it had a silvery azure tuft; it was very beautiful.

Sluggishly, my hands outstretched toward it, only to be intercepted by the sudden descent of a particularly haggard piece of paper. In lieu of picking it up, I look to the side. It was the fault of the man at my side- the who had remained inexpressive- as he let out a halting moan.

“Ruve? Are you okay?”

At my question- my curious mien, he began his comment, a complexity developing in his eyes.

“This was the thing you wanted to find…?”

“Uhm, yes.”

“For what reason? Why would you need such an object…?”

“Huh? Do you know what this is, your Highness?”

I wanted to ask what this was- he was making such a face, only to be stopped by his thoughtful gaze- then words, spoken now with a sobered expression.

“You do not seem to know yet. On hindsight, you did mention that you did not, a while ago.”

“Yes, so, what is this?”

“Hmm… I could explain it to you, but it would be favorable if you read it yourself. Now, go on- read it.”

He personally bent down to pick the paper up, which then he handed it over to me. A little shocked, I expressed my gratitude, set the wand aside and unfolded it.

<The glorious Castina Empire’s 9th sovereign, Jim Abraxas Soul Shana Castina Monique is hereby exempt from punishment from any and all crimes, this is a creed set by the royal bloodline.

Imperial Dating System, Year 197,

Abraxas Soul Shana Castina.>

The hand that held the scroll trembled. My eyes widened impossibly, until the they could not spare to spread even a little further- only those venomous words would remain.

The right to receive pardoning from any and all misdeeds.

“Ah…”

An indescribable sound phased through pursed lips.

Immunity. A excusive permission slip for treason, even. Such a thing was belonged to the Monique name? One that was eight hundred years old, at that?

I finally understood our final exchange, his words, I realized what they meant. Why the Emperor’s visage crumpled so bizarrely in discomfort when I had found it.

If I were to have fallen into an inescapable abyss, this would be the only thing I would need for my salvation. Then, my father’s brooch seal and the various other things he’d given- even with that, he had saved for me even the ancient appeal of immunity, as well? For the security of a future returnee?

Internally, a fluttering feeling came to a boil- I bit down on my lips, and a flicker of a distant memory washed past me.

During the time I was but an annoyance to His Majesty, my father, when I had been denied a blood oath and become crestfallen- he said to me, then… that our heritage was not defined simply by an ichorous decree. For that, he told me, that even if the worst were to happen I would only need to mention it to him, he’d do anything, he’d figure it out.

I don’t recall what my reply to him was on that day, but if anything I solaced thereafter in the confidence of his words. It was probably this that my father was referring to.

That’s how it was. Unlike the fruitless aspiration I harbored, father seemed to have a capacity to reason. It was why Emperor Prior, despite how he wished for me he could not force it. If it were another noble family, they would never use such a precious fiat for the sake of a mere daughter, but I had a father who put his life at risk just for the hand of his wife. A man like that cast no doubt as to be one capable of such a thing. And that if it were to come to it, that I fail to achieve my goal, the only thing to arise would be the fall of our relationship.

Huh? Wait. Life? Did I just think about life?

The brisk thoughts of that prediction passed by, swaying me over as if to collapse. With hastened celerity, he caught me before I managed to careen over, and spoke to me with a worried tone.

“Are you alright, Tia?”

“...Ah, yes.”

I’d given him that simple response, but the aftershock, all driven by that ill omen, could not release its serpentine grip. As if I had been struck on the head, I was met with dizziness.

—”To quell a misunderstanding, Your Majesty, the Empress, I heard, had accidentally been pushed by the Emperor. That’s why it turned out this way, is that the truth?”

My father, who had not ever spoken or listened to anything that reprimanded the Empire or the royal family, had unexpectedly questioned so.

—”It was wrong of me to send you here, Your Majesty.”

A voice, that had been riddled by a sigh, met absolute disparity… it was when I heard news of Jieun’s pregnancy. And—

—”Please wait a little longer. Whence I return, I promise I will return you home.”

His speech, so empowered by resolve—!

“Haah…”

An emotion I could not pinpoint overflowed my chest. That conversation I had believed I’d forgotten, his face, and his succinct gaze were clear as if they were only yesterday. What meaning they’d held, and how he’d take me, already an Empress, back, phrases I couldn’t muster to decipher, and only his cold reverberation lingered in my ears.

Did you, father? Am I right in assuming this? At the time, were you also trying to use our amnesty to save me? Even after you’d been surrounded by unreasonable blame, you’d spare it to use it just for me? Or was it to plead for my life, to let it be the compensation for the loss of yours? Yes?

“Ahh….”

I let out a cry stricken with grief, as if a scream. The swirling amalgamation of thoughts, though I didn’t know whether they were truthful or baseless conjecture, at least proved that the love my father had given me was always as bountiful as the one of the present, that was certain. And how I had stayed none the wiser to it even up til my final moments.

When I had finished reading the letter, I was determined to forego crying. But after unveiling the truth after such a long time, it was enough to cause an upset, tearing through the dam that held my tears. Such a belated realization, and the profuse yearning to just be able to thank him- but being unable to, only spited by the bitter emptiness of his absence and the pounding against my chest that stung so. I cried endlessly.

How long had it been?

The unyielding waterfall of tears began to ease in its flow, and the quaking heave of my body subsided bit by bit. I’d realized I’d been in his arms, blubbering away in my full-bodied sobbing. The labored gasping of inhalation quieted as I smeared away the tears. He’d been standing there, wordlessly, stroking my back until his conciliation finally came.

“.....Are you feeling a bit better..?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty.”

“I’d thought you’d already known, for a long time, now… it goes to show how much of a loyal man the marquis was. Even if it is the law, so many things have happened, it’s hard to believe.”

“Huh? What do you mean, ‘law’?”

“Yes. This declaration’s existence was only to be known to the head of the Monique family and the reigning Emperor, that is our rule. I, as well, learned of this after I ascended to the throne.”

All the while speaking, he softly pet my back.

“When I was the crown prince, do you recall me telling you the story with the Marquess? The one where I was scolded heavily by her.”

“I do remember.”

His question spoke of old times, but the thought of our dialogue then remained pristine in my mind. My gratitude for the sorrow I hadn’t even imagined, and the sadness that he’d endured for my inability to heal, wasn’t something to be easily forgotten.

Back when Jieun had only recently arrived, when I was on the verge of being forced becoming his wife, and on top of the revelation of my mother’s heritage, I’d felt deflated. Instead of spilling on me the burden of sadness, he vyed instead to tell me that story about my mother. That my mother was a respectable woman, bright and warm, as well as a person brave enough to rebuke the crown prince. And why it was, the reason why he’d been reprimanded.

Ah? Then again?

At the curious inclination, I turned my head to meet him.

“So.. the thing you said you’d snuck out was…”

“Yes, it was this very thing. It’d been laid out among such mindless decorations, I had no clue it held such importance. After I learnt the truth, you wouldn’t know how surprised I was. Come to think of it, your father was also an amazing man. To store something like this so nonchalantly.”

“I guess he’d heard that the more important something is, to care of it that much more indifference. Maybe it was because of that. How surprised would he be, then, after he heard you almost took it yourself? That’s probably the reason.”

A small smile took over my mouth, and he nods in acknowledgement, developing complexity in his eyes once more.

“Then.. Tia, do you intend to keep it?”

“I don’t know. It is something of my clan, so it would be better to leave it here… but if I think about my father’s memory, I also think it would be better to take it…”

“To keep it safe, wouldn’t it be better for it to remain here? As I see it, only the head and the heir may enter this secret floor.”

“There’s that, I suppose. I’ll leave it here.”

With a lithe movement, I put the ruby-red staff and the document back into its box, closing the lid above it.

Like it had been prior, I jumble the words inscribed on the gears, placing the chest back where it originally stood. He extends his hand towards me, as if to say he had been waiting. Despite it seeming somewhat unnatural and suspicious, I intrust my grasp to him, squeezing out of the secret room with interlocked hands.

As I lowered the tapestry over the wall-guised door, the workshop returned to typicality as if no such entrance even existed. Checking intermittently for my father’s relic- left gently on his desk, I turn one last time to glance over the room before exiting, closing the door behind me.

The familiar hallway I walked brought souvenirs of my childhood, of my father. That room, smelling of the attic and peculiar titles, was where my father, would oftentimes greet me as I visited. With a hastened heartbeat, brewing tea as he read on. Then, when he would tell me that it had tasted great, I’d feel relieved and laugh. Such reminiscing filled my heart.

On nights I couldn’t sleep, there were those soothing, large hands, a soft goodnight kiss placed on my forehead. The touch that mussed through my hair, the genteel voice that came in tandem. Sometimes strictly, sometimes tenderly, rusty, golden eyes that held me dear… and his hold that stayed as an expansive, protective barrier around me.

To cry and laugh through suffering and happiness, now they were only faint recollections of the countless memories of my father. I bury them with sincerity in my heart as each step is taken in this wide hall. It’d been so long since his funeral, but it was only now I could send my father off with a calm of mind.

I wonder, are you happy? To be reunited with mother, who you missed so much, are you content? If you say so, that you are, it would cast away my sadness. I couldn’t send you with cheers and smiles as you’d hoped… and even with this unavailing longing just to see your face again... I’m set out to stop crying.

So… father, there’s no need to worry anymore. Please be happy, there, with mother. Until the day comes that we meet again, I, too, will strive to live in glee.

Walking stiffly, stuffy-hearted, by chance, I saw a glowing redness on the far side of the hall. The balcony windows were opened to display the muddled crimson sky, the redness spilling out into the mansion floor.

Standing parallel besides each other, we looked across the setting sun.

Slowly, the sky dyed into darkness. The sunset was piggybacked by the mansion’s black shadow, and the air felt depressed, a special trait that accompanied the falling of the sun.

At the glum silence, the sturdy fingers that held mine in place slipped away. The heat that traversed up my palm led me to turn my head towards him. At the sun’s light, I saw his reddened lips move slowly.

“Tia.”

“Yes, Ruve?”

“In truth, when you found that item back there… honestly, I was a bit perturbed.”

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I feared that perhaps I would see it again… if you ever found out what that thing was.”

“Ah…”

That’s why he always had that look on his face. We’d been bound together by the oath of blood, so there was no way- but for that small chance that I’d ever threaten to leave the Imperial Palace, he’d use it as his final trump card?

“Though, after so long it was rather refreshing. I had so many thoughts in such short moments.”

“Oh, what kind of thoughts?”

“When I’d first discovered that thing, we were fine… but since then, many things have happened. We’d hated and feared one another, we were walking a fine line. Because of our involuntary emotions, we’d been hurt countlessly, and to comfort our pained feelings spent many a’nights sleepless…. Now, I can talk about it as if cherished memories, but for you, it must have been a gruelling time. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes, it was.”

“I thank you, Tia. For staying with me through hardship and terror. Without you I would simply be an Emperor, but thanks to you I have lived life as a man. You have my gratitude for allowing me to live a life like a human being.”

The sudden wind sent his hair aflutter, the gradienting layers of the sky staining all things black. It was the same for me, as well, those words. For the me who always took steps backwards, because of the pain of the past, if you were not there to have steadied me, I wouldn’t have become the Artisia that was loved and cherished, like now... I would have remained the abandoned empress, Artisia.

In the darkly tinged garden, I envisioned the image of two children. A silver-haired little girl, smiling quite clearly, and a blue-haired boy who looked at that smile with a conflicted expression. While the exact events are blurry and if it had been long ago, I would’ve just made a melancholic face, but now it too was a memory aged well by remembrance.

Ah, and speaking of, I had once stood on this very spot, watching down at him, in the garden.

An exchange I had long ago with Sir Liz resurfaced in my mind, but with a light smile, smoothed away his suspicions. What use was it to learn of the answer now? He and I had already gone round and round to get to this point. We had shed those times of mutual hurting and now stood side-by-side, looking off at the same sky.

Putting more pressure at our intertwined fingers, I tilted my head up to look at him. His gaze had been transfixed to the horizon in front of him, but he slowly turned to meet me. In a sea of blacks and reds, the only shining color of blue- his eyes- held me in their sights.

“Tia, will you…”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“From now on and always, will you stay at my side?”

“...Yes, Ruve. You needn’t ask.”

“Truly?”

“Truly, always.”

Towards the embrace that had one day become my protective fencing, I smiled brightly for the man I loved.

The smoldering sunset, yet, illuminated us.

- fin. -

TRANSLATOR COMMENTARY [Dec. 19. 2019]

<---*SPOILER WARNING!*--->

Please stop reading the commentary if you do not wish to get spoiled. Despite this being the *NOT* the final chapter, (BUT IT REFLECTS THE ENDING!) not every plotpoint is discussed nor fully expanded on, and the later chapters are NOT translated yet, thus qualify for spoilers.

I feel many people would/do dislike the ending because of the way Ruve treated Artistia in the beginning, but... all you need to know is that Ruvelis has always loved Artistia. He only pretends to love Jieun (she didn’t exactly love him either) and only comes to terms with his feelings in the first incarnation after Artistia’s death. To be honest, I find it tragic. At least in the Webtoon (I’m up til the latest episode in raws, [Kakaopage; you need Korean currency to read] haven’t read most of the novel chapters except the books I own, which are 3 ,4 ,5, and 6 I believe)  Ruve is clearly distinguishing himself from the cold behaviour of the 1st world. (I actually think its cute that she kept publically rejecting him and him just being jealous that she seems to not care in the beginning) I did like the other two male leads but it was pretty clear who she would end up with, I thought?

*Spoiler End*

In any case, thank you for viewing my translation. Feel free to request any chapter, or a different book (as long as you have raws!) I do translations+cleaning+typesetting (whole package) for Japanese, (manga-only) and Korean (all), or Spanish ([retranslated]manga-only).