#like maybe everyone gets nervous and sad and feels like it’s all pointless. what do i really expect to happen

[danny-doodles]

Steve’s Hobby

This is a short 2k blurb about one of my Steve hcs, I am only really good at critical analysis writing so I’m sorry if this is bad!! Creative writing isn’t my strong suit but I felt like I couldn’t really explain this hc in a drawing as well as writing it could.

Growing up Steve was often taught the importance of words from his father, thinking it would be useful for his son’s future in the business. Steve was never the best reader, letters jumping around the page made it too difficult, so instead he listened to everyone around him. Teachers, his parent’s coworkers, older kids, all of them taught him the importance of the meaning of words.

How certain words would make someone a town pariah yet others a god among men. Steve was a more quiet kid but as he grew up he also grew confident in his words. He could tear someone down with one sentence, ensuring they knew he was not to be messed with. That’s why he was so confused when he struggled in his english class, he knew the power of words and the many meanings, but his teacher never understood. Sure he made grammar errors, how no one else struggled with the dancing letters he didn’t get, but how could the teachers not understand his connections? Steve shouldn’t have to explain why the red of the handmaid’s cloaks represented the ripping of humanity from the women, it was so clear to him. Obviously the boar head could be comparable to the church, how could his teachers not make the connection?

Even Nancy didn’t understand, someone he considered smarter than him. He knew she was trying to be nice when she critiqued his college paper but it still left him in the fog. Basketball was war to him, a fight that was pointless with one but possible with many. A challenge that called for leadership and a strict order. Everyone had the roles, knew where and when to shoot, needed the ability to think quickly on their feet and not struggle under the pressure. Uniforms to not only separate from the enemy but to show they are a unit reaching for a common goal. It was so clear leaving no need to explain, especially to Nancy.

But she didn’t get it, no one got it.

Maybe he wasn’t as good with words as he thought.

Steve from then on fumbled his words when he got nervous, scared he would say something that made him sound dumb and point out his weakness with words. The concussions didn’t help either, making him take longer to grasp concepts. Reading felt nearly impossible, the headaches were unbearable. Not to mention the kids' comments, judgmental and brutal as if Steve didn’t have a reason to struggle in the first place.

Everyone around him loved to put him in a sudden spotlight and when he didn’t say the right line he was booed off stage and dealt with the looks of disappointment from his co stars for messing up. So Steve stuck to what he knew, his quick remarks. Were they bitchy? Yes, but not coated in malice like they used to be. Piggybacking off others points with sarcastic comments so the other person kept talking, anything to get the attention of him.

But Steve had a secret hobby that he shared with no one, not even with his platonic soulmate with a capital P Robin.

Steve wrote poetry.

Years of horrors that by law he couldn’t share that caused vicious nightmares and a clammy grasp on reality at times tended to keep Steve up. Another gift bestowed by his father though was a feeling of shame when sharing his emotions. Didn’t help that those emotions were typically down played or outright ignored by others. Therefore a bottle filled with his emotions rested in Steve’s chest, which after Vecna he really realized probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. So Steve took to writing them down, but he did it for himself.

No need to explain everything, he knew what he meant, he knew every context of every word. He wrote on his experiences, his emotions. He wrote when he was happy, he wrote when he was sad. Steve wrote and wrote and found his love for words again. And god did it feel good, it felt like taking back his voice from a world that underappreciated it. In a weird way it felt like revisiting a relative he had last seen as a child, that sense of freedom and the loss of expectation because in their eyes he was still that little kid. All they wanted was to see someone they loved and to Steve the words welcomed him back with a hug that rivaled his Nonna Maria’s.

Steve would ponder over lines at random intervals of the day, biting his pencil between his teeth during the quiet hours at work or simply jotting down a line right before picking the kids up. Steve wrote so often he kept his small little notebook on him at all times, usually accompanied by a pencil bound to it with a rubber band. (Turns out having hearing aids and glasses made it really difficult to put pencils behind one's ears). At this point everyone had seen his notebook, pale blue with some star stickers because he never had a shortage of them. Everyone assumed it was for something different. Some thought it was grocery lists, to-do lists, something productive. Others thought it was like a pocket calendar with all his plans listed so he didn’t forget. Dustin insisted it was meant to hold the definitions of anything D&D related so Steve never forgot, meanwhile Robin argued it was to hold all the wonderfully obscure movie recommendations she loved to give. All of them were wrong though and Steve kind of adored it that way. He didn’t have to explain himself that way, he could continue to hide under the blankets. Steve no longer held his tongue out of fear of others but because he had an outlet he much rather prefer.

Listening now felt less like a pop quiz, waiting for him to mess up his response, it felt like an actual conversation. Steve may not speak up as much as he would have before the Upside Down but he fell back in love with his own voice and maybe one day he would feel confident enough to share it with the Party, but for now it was all his.

No matter how much they wanted to prove who was right, the kids and older teenagers never touched the book when it was rarely separated from Steve. Well...after someone tried to grab it and they learned they really shouldn’t touch it.

While at the Harrington house the Party were preparing for a campaign session when the argument about the pale binded pages was brought up again. Steve had left it on the kitchen counter while he went to the bathroom, and Mike decided he was done with the bickering. He shot up and went to retrieve and open the book but before he could grab it the book flew through the air.

All the heads turned and landed on El holding it in her hand, “We are not Steve, this is his. It is rude to invade his privacy, would you like me to watch you without telling you,” everyone quietly shook their heads, “Then we do not watch Steve without him knowing.”

That’s exactly when Steve walked back in, it takes one look across the room at all the embarrassed faces and El holding his book with frustration painting her eyes to know what had occurred while he was gone. He walks up, kisses El on her head and softly thanks her while taking back his little literature.

After that incident no one dared touch the book or face the wrath of their favorite mage. They would find out when Steve was ready for them to.

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

That damn little book haunted Eddie’s thoughts. He knew Steve was not what he assumed him to be so anything was on the table, he had been wrong about the guy before who's to say he won’t be this time?

Of course Eddie wanted to respect Steve’s privacy because Eddie personally would be mortified if Steve had seen any of his notebooks, mainly because of the pages of lyrics that not so subtly hinted at an itsy bitsy affection for the badass babysitter. If that didn’t give Eddie away the random ‘Eddie Harrington’ and ‘Steve Munson’ with hearts all over would finish the job. So yeah, Eddie was not crazy to offer up any of his notebooks to venture into Steve’s book. He just had no idea the universe would present him with a much more favorable offer.

Steve and Eddie started hanging out a lot more after Vecna, no shocker considering they shared a hospital room, and soon the bat buddies would spend their time together outside of the hospital. That’s why it wasn’t surprising for Steve to let Eddie venture into Steve’s room while he went to pick up their lunch.

Eddie was somewhat of a curious cat, so when he spotted the notebook and some papers scattered on Steve’s desk he was like a moth to a flame. He softly glided his fingers over the blue cover and exhaled some breath in a soft laugh over the star stickers Steve oh so loved. It was the paper though that caught his eye when he finished observing the book. It looked like lyrics at first but then he realized some of the lines were too short to be lines, if anything they looked more like stanzas from a poem. Steve had poetry on his desk, did Steve read poetry? Thee Steve Harrignton likes poetry? God his whole doctrine was garbage huh. Eddie moved the paper towards him and started to read.

Watchful gaze

Setules on the glass.

Wishful gaze

Silent pleas of escaping rolling in the mouth

Fingertips slipping through the veil,

Grasping for warm hands,

Receiving lukewarm.

Hesitant to grab.

Dependency clasping the palms

Such a feverish feeling

Poking at the appendages,

A coldness that numbs.

Gently gripping for the heat,

The balmy yields.

Smoke and simmers,

Arms rushing to sides

Frozen.

Yearning for ardor,

Turn not yet given,

Waiting for the impossible,

Waiting for the unobtainable,

So understanding.

So relieving.

So desperate.

So alone.

Standing for the calling.

So patient.

So pathetic.

Empty Hands by Steve H.

Eddie was staring at the very last line on the paper, utterly flabbergasted. Steve wrote this? Steve writes poetry?! Is that what resides in the little book? Before Eddie could even find the power to turn to the book to look, Steve walked into his room. Again a quick look is all Steve needed to take before he knew what happened in his absence.

“Oh! Uh..I’m guessing you read it.”

Eddie slowly looked back up while caressing the paper, “Yeah, you..um..you really wrote this? Is that…uh..what’s in your notebook? Cause I will admit I never would have guessed that.”

Steve started scratching his neck, “I don’t blame you,” he huffs, “But yeah I write poetry, helps to let some of the thoughts out considering our lives y'know?”

“I totally get it dude! Lord knows my lyrics are infected with the whole spring break bullhonkey. So..totally cool if you don’t want to tell me but, why is this one out of the book? Were you gonna write it into the book?” Eddie picked up the paper to place it next to the notebook and turned to face Steve.

“Actually I copied it from the notebook, I’m gonna, okay wait, you can’t tell anyone this-”

“Even Robin?” Eddie exaggerated his smile to look wild.

“Even Robin.” Steve nodded with his eyes shut.

Eddie put his hands together and swayed while standing, “Wowww look at me, lil old Eddie Munson getting to learn the secrets of the mysterious writer Steve Harrignton.”

“Eddie, you want to know or not?” Steve sighed as he put his hands on his hips.

“Yes. Yes please,” Eddie eagerly replied, barely letting Steve finish his sentence.

“The last time I went to Indy with Robin to go shopping at their mall we went to a cafe. The bulletin board had a flier for a poetry night and I got curious I guess.”

“You gonna perform the poem there?”

“That’s the plan.”

Eddie could understand wanting a fresh slate when it came to having a reputation. “Craving anonymity? Must be tough considering you are Hawkin’s golden boy.”

Steve smiles brightly and Eddie sees his shoulders lose tension, tension Eddie didn’t even notice because he was so distracted by the fact that holy shit Steve is a poet. “Exactly.”

Honestly Eddie would give anything to hear more of Steve's hidden works, he grabs some of his hair and brings it to cover his mouth, “I know you don’t intend to tell the rest of the bunch, but uh..would you allow a humble bard to observe your lyrical performance?”

Eddie looks at Steve’s face for any hint of annoyance and finds none, instead he finds a look that he could hope to be correct in his guess is excitement.

“Really? You’d want to hear more, it's not confusing or stupid to you?” Steve softly smiled at Eddie, making him swoon inside.

“It's art! It doesn’t need to make sense, it just needs to make you feel good, who cares if others are confused. And for what its worth even if I’m not right on the money that poem made me feel Steve, I mean as the expert in self-expression it felt real and vulnerable, y’know.” Eddie had to shut himself up before he himself waxed poetry about just how much he is dying to hear more from Steve to learn more about him.

“Thanks Eddie.” Steve gazed at Eddie as if no one had ever told him that before. Which now that hes thinking about it that’s probably the truth. Guess Eddie needed to constantly remind him then.

Eddie smiled, mirroring Steves while bending at his waist, “Oh but of course my liege.”

“Oh my god okay Eddie cmon the food’s gonna get cold.”

Steve started to leave his room and Eddie rushed to follow him, “Now that I know what the book is filled with may I pretty please read it?” Rapidly blinking his eyelashes in an attempt to look innocent and pure but instead looking like a piece of dust got in his eyes.

“Nope.”

“Ugghhh c'mon Steve! Just imagine the look on the little hellions when they see me opening the book! God the jealousy! The feeling of betrayal when they see me reading Steve Harrigntons’s treasure trove of text and they are none the wiser to what is inside. And the best part, I have permission! The power I would hold Steve! The possibility, I could use them like little puppets to do my bidding while they crave information I alone hold!”

“Eddie that sounds like a headache for me waiting to happen, they’re just gonna badger me to tell them because they would claim it’s unfair you know and they don’t.”

“Eh, their egos could take a little hit don’t you think?” Eddie was now resting his head on Steve’s shoulder as the younger started to bring the food out of the carry out bag.

“Can I read your lyric notebook?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide as his brain proceeded to remind him of every lyric he had written around his devotion to Steve. Red in the face Eddie responded quickly, “Nope! Mmm you smell that Stevie I’m so hungry, aren’t you?”

“Subtle Munson.”

“Tis my middle name.”

Steve fondly rolled his eyes, “Sure.”

As they settled down on the couch Eddie tracked Steve grabbing the remote, “So I can really watch you?”

Steve turned and looked at Eddie with a calmness on his face. “Yeah Eddie.”

Eddie grabbed his hair as Steve stared at him, “Cool, cool, it’s a date.” Eddie froze about to panic silently as he tried to fix his slip up.

“Yeah, it's a date.” The two looked at each other, neither wanting to look away. After a minute or so Steve turned on the TV and if the two fell asleep together it was their business.

[keefwho]

February 19 - 2023

8:28 AM

I always pride myself for not listening to strangers’ negative opinions about me since they are never based on something meaningful. But on the flip side, I can’t enjoy positive opinions either for the same reason. Having a stranger tell me I’m valid as a person or something means absolutely nothing to me because they don’t know anything about me. This all feels like another thing that alienates me from other people. I don’t know if I’m supposed to care more about strangers’ opinions or if I’m fine where I’m at. 

I have this bacon to cook still but I’m nervous to. I wouldn’t be as nervous if it had been stored properly on the way here. The problem isn’t that it’s raw right now. Its that I’m not totally sure how cold it stayed on the way home. It should be fine because it felt quite cool when it got here. It also wasn’t out for terribly long in general. But if I’m going to handle challenging food like this, I want things to be near perfect. I don’t want to throw the bacon out because I think it’s severely unlikely anything is actually wrong with it. 

1:30 PM

Today I am lonely, bored, and sad. The perfect mix of things to foster anxiety about nothing, which I am also feeling. I’ve been thinking too much lately. Putting too much effort into trying to fix stuff like this. Sometimes I think it might be better to give up and not think about anything for a little bit. 

3:10 PM

Im just admitting this to myself. I fucking hate myself right now and it prevents me from having genuine interaction. I don’t know what to do aside from isolate myself until I feel better. It only seems responsible, but only if I do it right. Why do I have so much trouble loving myself? 

4:35 PM

I was starting to think I was the problem, then I remember I KNOW I’m the problem. I let one of my closest friendships die. Last night a friend was really depressed and I probably only made it worse. There’s a reason I can’t find people to hang out with on demand. No one wants to be around someone like me. Another friend is upset about something and my heart breaks if I had anything to do with it.

I’m afraid I am irreparably fucked up. Maybe I’m truly a bad person deep down. Maybe I don’t deserve friendship, companionship, or happiness in general. Maybe it’s all pointless. 

8:41 PM

I sure have enjoyed wasting my entire evening being depressed beyond comprehension. I should message my friends but I don’t have the will or energy to do anything tbh. Another reason I’m a piece of shit I guess. 

8:58 PM

On top of it all my tummy hurts. Im assuming it’s because of how I blew myself earlier but my temperature is also reading up to 99.1. Not a real fever by any means but I never read that high at this time while I’m chillin. Unlike last time my temperature read this high, I’m not really panicking. I’m slightly concerned but logic tells me that I can’t be “sick”. Where would I have gotten anything? Unless it was by extraordinary circumstances. I don’t have other symptoms either. My tummy is upset because of things physically moving through me in a way my body doesn’t like due to what I did earlier. The temperature is probably a fluke and all I can do is check it again in about an hour. 

9:41 PM

The best way I can describe how I feel in times like this is soulless and empty. There are times where I feel in touch with myself but they are not often. More often I feel like I’m living a very fragile life. I have trouble believing everything is okay and I frequently imagine everything that can go wrong until I believe it’s my future. Today has been like that. All I can see are the negatives. 

9:59 PM

I’m just MAD. At myself. Why am I so confused? I never used to be this confused about myself. Maybe I never knew who I was or wanted to be. Maybe thats why episodes of extreme sadness have been with me since high school. I know everyone gets sad but I get truly depressed. I have reached some very dark places and it’s all because something is wrong that has gone unsolved for so long. I feel like I’m in the middle of shattering everything I know about myself. I only hope it results in something better in the end. 

Maybe I’m experiencing a form of ego death. Lately I have much less grasp on the things like I like and how my relationships are. I used to base everything on and cling to recent memories and significant older ones but now I feel like I have no history. I don’t like it because I enjoy honoring past experiences but I haven’t been able to do that lately. I feel like everything in my life requires constant upkeep to hold onto it, partly because I can’t seem to believe some things will stick around simply because I put the time in. Everything feels brand new and like I have to make a good impression. 

10:34 PM

I tend to play by my own ruleset instead of feeling things out. Maybe I need to listen to my heart more. I suppress so much, even stuff that doesn’t matter. I’m always trying to do things “right” by my brain’s standard. I end up neglecting my true desires. But at the risk of sounding edgy, I feel like I’ve silenced my heart enough that it’s hard for it to speak up. I always have this problem. I don’t KNOW what I want. I feel no desire but it must be there. 

12:18 AM

I realized today that I would unknowingly draw smut as a way to vent. I say unknowingly because what I thought was just horny posting was actually me channeling my feelings of worthlessness into degenerate content. Sometimes when I feel like that, I do horny stuff to escape or degrade myself. It feels good. I don’t even think it’s unhealthy, its just something I realized I do. I don’t see anything wrong with it. 

[winter-soldier-vibes]

hi! request for one where reader struggles w depression a lot but hides it, tho it’s been getting worse recently and only bucky has noticed the small signs. then one night after no one seeing her the whole day or maybe something happened he went to check on her but she wasn’t in her room and he panics only to find her on the roof and just talks her down <3 all the love

Of course! I hope you're okay love❤❤❤. I saw another anon request something a lil similar in my ask box but I can't find it, maybe it got eaten, but I hope you like this!

Word count: 3,400 (ish)

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, depression, close to an attempt, Bucky talks about HYDRA, feelings of worthlessness.

A/N: This deals with very heavy subject matter, please do not read if you are in a dark place. I am here to talk if you want but I encourage you that if you feel this way in ANY way, no matter how severe, to reach out to someone. I also just wanted to say that the way someone talks someone down is never the same, some people may find a different approach more helpful or realistic. I wrote it this way because this is what I feel in my experience would have been helpful to hear. So please, if you don’t think it’s the way someone should talk someone down - please don’t come at me for it.

Overnight

People often don’t notice the small signs. The smiles that don’t reach the eyes, the dark circles from lack of sleep, the laughs that slowly become more forced. People don’t often pick up on those things right away. They happen slowly, as depression will often manifest. It’s rarely ever a flip of a switch shut down, happy one day and sad the net. Anxiety was like that, small things can trigger panic attacks. But with depression, it was this slow ache that grew in your chest, this dull cloud that made everything darker day by day.

These things rarely happen overnight.

You don’t know what caused this episode. You had struggled with depression and would go through some really low episodes before returning to baseline. It was never great, but it was...manageable. Most of the time. Some things could help you predict when you would go into another episode but you felt yourself slipping and you weren’t quite sure why.

You started withdrawing from the team. Subtly, not all at once. That would cause too much concern and the last thing you wanted was to be a burden. Especially with something like this, you didn’t even have an explanation.

It started slow, training on your own, missing team dinners, that sort of thing. If they were going out to celebrate or staying in for a movie you would slip away to your room where you didn’t have to worry about hiding it.

You didn’t want to be alone, you already felt so goddamn lonely. But somehow being lonely and surrounded by people who loved you hurt more.

The team chalked it up to you wanting to be alone, a bad day, being tired, etc. Whatever recycled excuse you gave them didn’t phase them. At least, not at first.

See, people who have experienced similar things will pick up in the small signs that others show. Someone who knows what anxiety is like will often be the first to pick up on nervous habits and tics. Often people notice when someone’s energy is coming from adrenaline and caffeine rather than sleep when they’ve done the same thing. Someone who knows what it’s like to feel hopeless and not want to reach out - they notice the small signs of withdrawing.

He noticed pretty early on the change in your demeanor. You had always been one to keep to yourself but this was different. You always seemed exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t ever fix. Your laugh wasn’t quite the way it used to be, now forced and short, not the usual bubbly laugh it was.

Most people are able to just live and go about daily functions - eating, sleeping - it just came naturally to them. Surviving was natural to them. But it seemed like you had to put thought and effort into surviving.

Which, you were.

Slowly it became hard to motivate yourself to do the basic things to take care of yourself. You would do the bare minimum because you had to, but even that was starting to take more effort than it should. You were eating less because you just weren’t that hungry, but you still did because you knew if you didn’t you’d get sick eventually. You spent as much time in your bed as possible, but not much of it was sleeping.

Bucky picked up on these things and came up to talk to you about them, but you’d smile and shake your head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired I guess.”

You weren’t lying, you were tired - emotionally more than physically.

Tired of more than what the day brought - tired of yourself, of your emotions. Tired of the way you felt so out of touch with yourself, out of control. Tired of how you wanted to get better but no matter what you did, it still came back. You were so tired of being exhausted all the time and there was nothing you could do about it.

You were tired of living this way.

You weren’t necessarily suicidal, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to live. You just didn’t want to live this life, not like this. You were so utterly exhausted day in and day out, every day was about getting to the end of it. Everything seemed pointless and you felt like you were watching life go by but you weren’t living it.

You were surviving. And you didn’t see much of a point to it anymore.

Your mask was cracking. And people were noticing.

Maybe it was when you were falling asleep during mission briefings, or nearly passing out in training because you had forgotten to eat. Maybe it was how no one saw you anywhere that wasn’t necessary. The team passed it off as a bad day or week, something you would get over because you were strong.

But apparently not the strong that you needed to be. You could fight off agents, assassins, you could run for miles. But you couldn’t stop your mind from telling you that life was pointless and you were a waste of space. But the team wrote it off as a bad week. But Bucky knew that this had been going on for much longer than a week.

These things rarely happen overnight.

Too many people were asking you if you were okay, and you weren’t, but you didn’t know how to say it. But you thought that if you had to choke out one more “I’m fine,” you would shatter. And you weren’t ready for everyone to see that.

You stopped coming out of your room unless it was for the bare necessities. You would come out at night for water and food, picking at it in your room so that no one would see you.

But that only made Bucky worry more.

The team, again, wrote it off as you needing some “Alone time” because maybe you just had a “bad day”. Of course they worried about you but they thought that if things were bad, or if there was something you needed help with, you would speak up. Because that’s what you did.

But Bucky was worried. He knew that when someone pushes people away, they may think being alone will help, but it only makes it worse. You may not want to talk to anyone, you may think being alone is what’s best. But it rarely is.

Being alone makes it harder to fight your demons. They can run rampant when given the chance. Being alone is the darkest and loneliest hell, and he knew that all too well.

He wasn’t going to leave you alone in that.

He came up to your room one night, wanting to check on you. He knocked on your door, being met with silence. He knocked again, calling your name, but was again met with silence. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked, opening the door to an empty room.

Where the hell were you?

You weren’t anywhere else in the tower, so where were you?

Bucky stood there for a moment, confused before he remembered the AI system. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.Where's y/n?”

“I believe that they were heading up to the rooftop about a half-hour ago.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he sprinted out the hallway and towards the stairs.

---

You looked out over the street, arms crossed over your shivering body. For now, you just looked down at the city below. You chuckled bitterly to yourself. There must have been thousands of people down there, thousands of lives, and you wondered how many people felt the way you did right now. So much hustle and bustle, things to do and places to be. You didn’t know a single person down there, it was just a blur of movement. Yet they all had their own personal stories and hells and blessings and shit that made them who they were.

You wondered how many of them pretended like they were fine.

You were standing closer to the edge than you should’ve been. You weren’t doing yourself any favors. You really shouldn’t be up here, but you didn’t know what else to do. Everything hurt all the time and it was just getting worse. You didn’t know whether or not you were gonna jump but here you were, teetering on the edge. Because no matter how much this hurt you still couldn’t bring yourself to fall forward.

You were scared.

You felt tears sting your eyes, angry, exhausted, everything - you couldn’t do anything right anymore, you felt no purpose, you were tired and scared all of the time. You felt so utterly done with everything, yet here you were with a way out and you were too scared of that too.

You were trapped in your body, trapped in your life, and while you didn’t want to die, you didn’t want it to hurt anymore. It wasn’t that you had nothing to live for. It wasn’t that you had nothing left. You knew you did, you knew the team was there for you. You had more support than you could ever need. But you didn’t know how to use them.

You didn’t even know how this happened. How did things get this bad? You remembered when you were happy, the person you used to be. The person everyone still seemed to think you were. Where did they go? What happened to them? And would you ever be able to be that person again?

Did it even matter? Would anyone even care or notice? They did a great job at ignoring what had been happening. Not that you wanted them to find out in the first place. It was so confusing, you wanted to scream for help, you wanted someone to just fucking notice or something. But didn’t you also answer every single “Are you okay?” with "Oh yeah I’m fine, just a little tired.”

So did you truly want them to know? Did you actually want them to notice or help?

You closed your eyes tightly, shaking your head a little to yourself. It was all so confusing, so frustrating. You didn’t know what to do. You felt completely trapped within yourself.

These things rarely happen overnight. And they never get better overnight either.

You took a breath as you looked down, toes slightly off of the ledge. One step or losing your balance would be all it would take. And then it would be over. Forever. It wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“Y/n?” you heard a calm, albeit nervous voice speak from behind you.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. As you squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you whispered to yourself.

“Y/n, can you come down from there?”

“Why are you here?” you asked, voice strained with pain.

“Because I’m worried about you,” he said, voice sounding closer.

“I don’t want you to be worried about me! I never wanted anyone to worry about me!” you exclaimed.

“And where did not talking about what was bothering you get you?”

“No one would ever have to worry about me again. Not anymore.”

“No one on the team would ever be able to stop thinking about you,” Bucky started, walking closer to you. He spoke gently, worried he would scare you or you would suddenly jump off. “About how we should’ve worried about you. Everyone would blame themselves and ask themselves if they could’ve helped you if they had seen you were hurting.”

You heard his footsteps stop.

“This isn’t going to solve anything.”

You took a shaky breath. “What else am I supposed to do, huh?” you turned around, back facing the streets below as Bucky stood a few feet in front of you. “Pretend like this is gonna get better? Because it isn’t. I’m so sick and tired of pretending like one day everything’s gonna be okay again. It never stops hurting, it never turns off, and I can’t do it anymore!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. You shook your head. “I know this won’t solve jack shit and it probably makes me weak, but I’m okay with that. Because I’m past the point of wanting to solve anything. I just want it to stop! Is that too much to ask?!”

“It is if your life is the price!” Bucky exclaimed. “We can’t lose you. You’re a part of this team - this family,” he said a little more calmly, trying to keep his own tears at bay. No one should go through feeling so hopeless, and you were one of the kindest people he knew.

But some of the most kind-hearted people are the meanest people to themselves.

“I’m not here to judge you or try to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. I’m not gonna tell you life is all beauty and grace because it isn’t. It’s okay to be in pain but this is not the way to fix it. I just wanna help you.”

You shook your head. “No one can help me.”

“At least let me try,” he said gently.

“You don’t understand okay? It never stops hurting,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “It always hurts and it's this ache in my chest and I feel like I’m suffocating. No one told me that life was going to hurt, no one fucking told me! They say life isn’t fair, or that life may sometimes bring you down, but they never said that existing would be torture. And I don’t want to keep living if it’s going to hurt this much.”

You saw Bucky’s face fall and you shook your head. “Please just go - You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’d rather see you at your worst than not see you at all,” he said. “You don’t have to do this yourself. I know it may seem like you do but you don’t. You never had to, and you never will have to. You have me, us, the team - we’re all here for you but we can’t if you don’t let us. But I’m not leaving you. You’ve been alone for too long already.”

You felt a new lump in your throat, feeling overwhelmed. Trapped between death and your worst nightmare. You never wanted to be vulnerable, you never wanted to hurt anyone with your own pain. But hearing Bucky’s words, seeing the panic in his eyes -

You had already hurt him. And he was right - killing yourself was only going to hurt the team more.

But it just hurt so much.

You had heard it so many times - “think about the impact you’ll have on those you love”, or how “suicide is selfish” and shit - made you feel like a horrible person. Because you did care about everyone, you cared too much. And it wasn’t that you didn’t care about hurting them with your decision - it was just that the pain of staying alive began outweighing the fear of hurting those you loved.

And it was torture.

You wanted to say everything that was on your mind - scream and cry and curse the universe, you wanted to break something, you wanted to be hugged, held, and told it would be okay - you wanted to get everything out.

You didn’t want to be alone anymore.

You’ve been alone for too long already.

You let out a broken sob, knees going weak as Bucky caught you and pulled you into his chest, away from the edge.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said between sobs.

“I know you don’t, I know,” Bucky said, holding you tightly as if he feared you would disappear if he let you go.

Sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt me was utter bullshit. Because the next words that came out of your mouth hurt Bucky more than anything HYDRA had done to him.

“Please just let me die. Why won’t you let me die? I just wanna die, please just let this be over.”

People didn’t realize what depression could do to a person. Someone who was full of life could end up like this. You don’t know what went wrong or when it happened, but you just felt absolutely broken inside. The kind of broken that can’t be fixed.

Bucky felt his heart shatter, tears falling down his own cheeks at how hopeless you had sounded. He had never been overly close with you, but you were always kind to everyone on the team. And the team had failed you by not noticing sooner.

“I’m gonna bring you inside okay?” Bucky said. You didn’t hear him, crying so hard that you couldn’t focus on anything else. He picked you up, carrying you back into the tower. Bucky brought you back to your room, sitting down on your bed with you. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, holding you tightly as he tried to help you calm down.

Exhaustion overtook you, your body becoming worn out from all of the crying and emotions. You never let your guard down like that in front of anyone, and shame began to overtake you.

“I - I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have seen that I’m so so sorry -”

“Don’t,” he started. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No one was supposed to know,” you whispered.

“Why not? What’s so bad about asking for help?”

You paused for a moment, unsure exactly why. “I don’t know - I just feel really weak sometimes?” you said, more of a question to yourself. “Like I know everyone needs help and shit but I didn’t have a reason to need it. It hurts but I don’t know why, I cry when I’m not sad, I just - I’m not in control of myself and I don’t know why and if I can’t explain it to myself then how am I supposed to talk to anyone about it?”

“That makes more sense than you think. All of us on the team, we all go through shit. We see so many horrible things, we’ve been through so many things. We all have something. You have this. It’s okay if you don’t know why you feel the way you do but hurting yourself isn’t going to help anything.”

“I know what it’s like, wanting a way out,” Bucky said and you immediately knew what he was talking about. “Days that I wished Pierce or Rumlolw or whoever would just finish me rather than punish me over and over. It wasn’t that I wanted to die, I just wanted it to stop.”

You looked at him. “I know. But what I didn’t know then was that it would end. I never thought it could ever end or that it would ever end, but it did. And if I had died back then I would’ve died only knowing that pain. I wouldn’t have known that it could get better or that it would. And I’m not saying everything is perfect now because it’s not. But it’s better than it was. Okay?”

You nodded, fresh tears spilling out of your eyes. You knew the torture that Bucky went through, everyone on the team did. It had taken him a long time to speak about it on his own and move through it. But he did.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you said.

“Talking about it, getting it out is a great start. Talking about it never hurt anyone.” When you seemed a little apprehensive, Bucky added, “I felt alone for so long. Battling these thoughts and memories in my head. They never stopped. But when I started talking about it with someone, and they helped me work through it - I don’t know. It helped me a lot. It wasn’t just me and my thoughts anymore. I wasn’t alone.”

I wasn’t alone

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not I’m gonna be right here with you

These things rarely get better overnight. But maybe with someone else, they could get better a little bit quicker.

You gave a small nod. “Okay.”

---

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[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

never learned to read your mind

season 1 AU | 1k words | general audiences | pre-MSR | AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic

i.

She leaves after their second-ever case together, after he ditches her at the motel in Idaho and gets his memories wiped at Ellens Air Base. He can't even blame her; he wonders if he hadn't gone off on his own, if she would have stayed. He isn't angry at her, tries not to be bitter, except that he is just a little bit. He'd thought Scully was different, laughing in the rain with him and listening, truly listening, when he confessed his past to her. She apologizes when she tells him, over and over again, and he lies and tells her there's nothing to forgive.

ii.

The next time he sees her is three days after Christmas, when she walks into the office with a knock and nervous look the way she had that first day six months ago. The basement feels emptier now than it had before she came and left. He's surprised to see her again.

"Anything I can help you with, Agent Scully?" He asks, maybe a little brusquely. He kicks himself for being unnecessarily snippy; she had no reason to stay, he can't hold her choosing to move on in her career against her.

She shuts the door behind her like she's telling a secret before she tells him that her father is dead, before she asks what he knows about visitations, before she lets him reach out and cup her cheek; it's a gesture that both asks for forgiveness and offers comfort. He doesn't know her well enough to know how to do either properly.

She says she needs to work, and there's something raw open in her eyes, and on a whim he invites her to South Carolina with him. She notes his skepticism towards Boggs with a hint of curiosity breaking through her sadness and tells him her father's funeral is today, she'll get a flight and see him tonight.

"I'm sorry about your father, Dana," he says, before leaving her in the office like she's meant to be there. He thinks he hears a filing cabinet open as he walks up the hall.

iis.

He's grateful to have her along; no matter how broken she might be right now, her doctor's instincts kick in the moment he goes down and the last thing he's conscious of before he blacks out is Scully's voice more steady than he's heard her all day promising he'll be okay. If he knows one single small thing about her, it's that she doesn't lie. He's a little surprised when she takes over working the case, a little more surprised and perturbed when her skepticism slips and she allows for the possibility of Boggs telling the truth; he remembers what she'd said about her father, about visitations, and snaps at her to be careful. He didn't drag her out here just to cause her more pain.

She sits on the edge of his hospital bed and they both watch the clock knowing that right now, Luther Lee Boggs is going to his execution. Mulder asks why she didn't attend, didn't go to find out what her father was going to tell her. "I already know," she says softly, with startling vulnerability and tears in her eyes. "He was my father."

iii.

She's his go-to pathologist, the only person he can trust with the mysteries neither of them can understand. He hovers over her shoulder in autopsy bays at Quantico and thinks that she's different than anyone he's ever known. He's never been around anyone quite like Scully, who catches him off guard every time she teases him because it's so genuine; he's used to being made fun of by others, not having fun with them. She argues with him, maintains both her decision to transfer and her skepticism, but she listens.

Once, in a fit of sheer frustration — not at her, but at their superiors, at Deep Throat, at everyone hiding everything and dragging them on wild goose chases and pointless road trips — he snaps at her, asks her why she's even here; they'd met covertly, trying to discover the truth behind a truck driver's tale, and he hadn't even asked her to come along. That old bitterness resurfaces that he'd first felt when he found out she was being assigned to him; it's a different one than when she'd left. She'd said he's the only one she trusts; he wants to trust her, but he can't make sense of her.

"I'm here for you, Mulder, not aliens or conspiracies," she says quietly, her voice steely. "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you."

He whips around and stares at her in shock. They aren't even partners, and she insists that's how it should be. But he sometimes wonders where they would be if she'd stuck around.

iv.

He gets her to tag along on another case, claiming he needs a scientific perspective and telling her it'll be a nice trip to the woods. When it all goes wrong, and they're trapped in a cabin in the dark and she's panicking, cracking open in a way he'd only seen after her father died, he starts to kick himself. She shouldn't be here; she'd chosen a transfer because she'd wanted to be safe, and here he is trying to drag her back into the x-files and pulling her into danger. At least she lets him also pull her into his arms, the only thing he can think to do to comfort her.

v.

She saves him. She breaks into a government facility, steals physical evidence of secrets she still can't believe, and she saves him. Mulder has never been more grateful for any person in his life. When the x-files are shut down, after all his arguing with Skinner can't change it, he admits that for all his frustration, he's glad she got out before it crashed and burned. He doesn't want to take her down with him.

She goes quiet for a while, sitting on a bench in the dark, before suggesting he transfer to Quantico. After all this, even after she'd chosen to leave, she still wants to work with him. He will never understand her.

He thinks that if she hadn't left, hadn't chosen to be a pathologist instead of haunting the basement, they would be best friends; he thinks they are anyway.

Sometimes, he also thinks that he wants to kiss her.

[mcheang]

In another’s eyes

Inspired by https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13849241/1/Signed-Gifts

Basically Adrien finds Marinette’s signature on his blue scarf and connects the dots.

Adrien is hurt that Marinette let him believe his father gave him the scarf. He understands why but it hurts worse after all this time thinking his father finally gave him something new. It’s having new hopes crushed

He visits Marinette and gently confronts her over it, chiding her to tell him the truth next time instead of letting him believe a lie.

Frantic, Marinette wildly points out that he lets their classmates believe in Lila’s wild promises. How is she any different from him?

Pause.

Adrien never really thought about it that way. He just wanted his classmates to be happy. But if he told them the truth, they would be sad and Lila would also be angry at him and probably akumatized.

If he kept the truth from them, then wasn’t he being a hypocrite?

Marinette worried she said something she could never take back. “Adrien...”

He held up a hand, needing to think.

What was the Chinese saying again? “Do not do unto others what you don’t want others do unto you.”-Confucius

Well, Adrien wasn’t one to deny an ancient philosopher’s wisdom.

Adrien: no, you’re right, Marinette. I’m a hypocrite for scolding you for something I’ve done as well

Marinette: you haven’t-

Adrien: but i have. Please don’t sugarcoat this, Marinette. Don’t try to spare my feelings when the truth is more important.

Marinette was nervous and predictably, she rambled. “Well, if you are planning to expose Lila, you would also be in trouble because while i constantly doubted her trip to Achu, you were aware of her playing truant.”

Adrien paused and took a breath. “I know. And I’ll accept my due punishment. But what matters is making things right. We need to tell everyone that Lila is a liar.”

Marinette: but how? They don’t believe me. And who knows if they’ll believe you!”

Adrien frowned, thinking again. “Don’t you have Jagged’s number?”

Marinette: Yup. I barely got him to cease suing Alya’s Ladyblog for Lila’s interview. He doesn’t really follow her anymore.

Adrien: do you think he’ll help us expose Lila?

Marinette: we can ask. But I think it’s a safe bet. The only reason he didn’t go after Lila herself was because she up and vanished after turning into Volpina.

Jagged was thrilled to sic Fang on Lila

Marinette: we said expose! Not kill

Jagged: I never feed Fang rotten food. He’ll just sit on her or chase her up a tree

Adrien: thank you. I’m just worried Lila will be akumatized again, though. The last time, Ladybug chewed her out for claiming to be BFFs; though after hearing Lila pronounce herself a better self-proclaimed heroine, it’s not that hard to see why Ladybug was angry (Adrien may have been upset with Ladybug but I imagine he would try to justify her behavior later. seriously, who wouldn’t be angry after hearing Lila insult her like that? He’s not very sensitive to others’ emotions)

Jagged: you can’t keep everybody happy. And sometimes you shouldn’t. Some people don’t deserve to be coddled. And besides, once the witch is exposed, who is to say the others won’t be akumatized?

Adrien paled. He didn’t consider that.

Marinette: well, we could try to keep an eye out for akumas. And maybe even get the heroes to stand guard?

Adrien: good idea. But how to contact them?

Marinette: leave it to me. I’ve seen the heroes jump on rooftops plenty from my balcony.

Jagged: just say the word and set the date, and your uncle Jagged will be there faster than you can say “Croc”

Marinette soon called Adrien and Jagged to tell them that Ladybug would be happy to stand by and even offer her own testimony that she is so not friends with Lila.

However, after hearing how Lila framed Marinette, Ladybug wanted Marinette absent in case Lila blamed her for Jagged exposing her.

Jagged: well, she’s not totally wrong.

Marinette: uncle Jagged!

Jagged: what, you did call me for this.

On the day of Lila’s downfall, school had just ended and students started heading home. Marinette was one of the first, having to work at the bakery. Chloé and Sabrina also left, not bothering to stay around and chat with the peasants.

To the lingering students’ surprise, a popular and familiar rock song began blasting into the air as a tour bus drove up to the school.

Jagged: hello Dupont College! Are you ready to rock!

Students crowded up and screamed.

Lila paled and could not escape the gravity of the crowd.

Jagged: now where’s my guitar? Fang, if you don’t mind?

Fang waddled up, guitar on his back.

Jagged: now Fang’s been with me since he hatched from an egg. And he’s the best pet a rocker could ask for.

Alya: what about your cat?

Jagged: cat? Since when did I own a cat?

Alya: but Lila said-

Jagged: who? Sorry miss, but I think you must have confused me with someone else.

A pause for the class as Jagged started playing a guitar riff.

While the crowd cheered, the class stared at Lila.

Lila: he doesn’t like his kitten to be brought up

Ivan: he doesn’t even know you

Lila: he does! Right, Adrien?

Lila glared at him meaningfully. But Adrien ignored her and just sang along. He promised to maintain a guise of friendship, but no more lies. Though if Lila was exposed, maybe their deal could be considered pointless now. Still...better not to antagonise her so openly.

Nino: you’re asking the wrong person. The only other people in class who can get close to Jagged are Chloé (same hotel) and...Marinette. That’s how she knew you were a liar!

Jagged: hey, what’s going on over there?

The student body turned to stare, annoyed at the interruption.

Aware of unwanted scrutiny, Alya quickly said, “oh, we were just having a priority one class meeting. Sorry! We’ll keep it down.”

The class dragged Lila off, and Ladybug secretly followed. Adrien reluctantly did so too.

Surrounded, Lila could not run away, so she burst into fake tears.

Lila: why are you being so mean?

Mylène: do you think her tears are real?

Kim snorted. “Doubtful. But I don’t think she’s worth bothering about anymore.”

Alya: what? She lied!

Kim: and we believed a con artist. But unless we lost a lot of money or whatever, what’s the point of doing this?

True. While Lila had promised favors, that didn’t mean the class had stop working hard on their own. And Alya’s credibility was also her fault for not checking her sources and getting more proof.

Alya huffed. “Fine! But she just gets away scot free?”

Max: unlikely. There is the matter of forging doctor’s letter and skipping school.

Lila: you can’t prove that!

Alya: I can just call your mother right now.

Lila: and tell her that you’re bullying me?

Alya: no, we are just going to ask her some questions. And if she was duped by you, too, I don’t think she can deny the truth if we walk up to her office and make a scene.

Adrien: is that really necessary?

Alya: Mrs Rossi must really believe her daughter. She may think us all bullies if we expose Lila but the presence of her colleagues will influence her. Besides, our questions are simple. Was Lila really sick? Was she at Achu?

The class dragged Lila to the embassy and made such a ruckus that Mrs Rossi came out, especially when she saw her daughter in the center of it all, yelling at them to be quiet.

Mrs Rossi was angry but answered their questions that Lila had never been sick or to Achu while Alya filmed her. But there was the akuma plague. At this, the class told her the truth and even her observing colleagues backed them up.

Lila was distraught. Where was the freaking akuma?

Ladybug was lounging on the roof, her yo-yo stuffed with butterflies. As long as she didn’t use her lucky charm, she was in no danger of detransforming.

When Adrien didn’t back Lila, she told everyone he knew she was a liar.

Adrien admits his faults and realized his lesson now. The class knew why Marinette kept the scarf secret so they could sort of understand why he wanted to keep everybody happy. He also was the one who got Marinette back into school, so they forgave him.

Lila was expelled once Damocles saw the footage and Mrs Rossi confirmed it.

Lila was sent to boarding school instead where everyone knew she was a compulsive liar. Nobody took her seriously there.

As for Adrien, he was always determined to hear the blunt truth, tired of being sheltered.

[geekwritersworld]

Wait for her

pairing:Henry cavill x Ginny 

warnings: teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff towards the end. mentions of mental abuse.(its not detailed)

summary: Henry fell for her, really hard. But there isn’t much he can do when she’s already in a relationship.

Requested by : @1960memories​ Hope you like it!

It never made sense to Henry why she defended the man she was with. Nobody understood what she saw in him, and everyone saw what she didn’t. Or rather what, she refused to acknowledge. The lies being covered with even more lies became more obvious by the day. 

Over the course of just a year, Ginny had become a shell of a woman she once used to be. Her once contagious laugh now resonated sadness. She didn’t speak much. The calls she once answered immediately , now remained unanswered. 

It hurt Henry to watch the woman he met at that bar 7 years ago, become someone he no longer recognized. 

He’d fallen for Ginny not too long after he met her, but he never said a word to her. The fear of of loosing her even as a friend held him back.

But her sitting here in their living room, wrapped in another man’s arms , made his heart drop. 

His brother had thrown a huge birthday get together for his wife, and he’d invited Ginny as well, because she’d become such a huge part of the Cavill family’s lives.

Ginny had introduced her sister to Charlie’s wife, and the two had become quite close friends. And despite her sister, Elena , being late to the party, Ginny didn’t even notice her absence.

Faking smiles and forcing laughter had kept her quite busy. Ginny wanted nothing more than to leave, she wanted to leave him, the party, the city; everything. She wanted to go somewhere and start fresh; Forget that the only man she loved didn’t feel the same about her; instead she was sitting on his brothers couch in the arms of a man she couldn’t stand.

But it was all mindless dreaming. Henry watched her smile falter, when Matthew leaned in and murmured something to her. Yet his arms remained tight around her torso. 

The party had only just begun and the seconds were already crawling. It wasn’t because he didn’t enjoy his sister-in-law’s birthday party, but because he couldn’t help but stare at Ginny from afar, with his drink in his hand. Every second passed with him wanting to go over and tell her he loved her, but every second brought him pain as well, knowing she wasn’t his.

It physically made him want to throw up. Henry found the man Ginny claimed she loved, to be physically repulsive. Henry knew of the mental and emotional scars and bruises she hid. They shouldn’t have even been there in the first place. 

It angered him, to see a woman be mistreated. He’d heard the words her boyfriend uttered to her, but Henry couldn’t intervene and defend her , because he wasn’t exactly supposed to be standing behind the large and neatly trimmed bushes when Matthew verbally abused her.

His stomach twisted, when he saw Matthew grab Ginny’s elbow, thinking no one was watching. 

“If you decided to hand his ass to him, I'm just saying, I’d side with you” Elena rest her elbows on the cold metal railing of the balcony, as the summer sky turned a soft shade of blue. 

“Can’t fucking stand the way he treats her” he despised the way Matthew held her , the way he talked to her and the way he’d manipulated her. “I truly don’t understand why she’s still with him” He sighed , turning around, he faced the ocean that the balcony overlooked. He wanted to be holding her in his arms right then, standing on the balcony with his arms wrapped around Ginny. 

But she was being held by another man, a man who did not hold her gently.

Ginny could feel Henry’s stare. She knew he was watching. Which was why, holding up her smile, was getting harder but all the more necessary. She was so close to breaking. She no longer wanted to be in this relationship, where she felt like it was a test of how long till she would completely break. 

The only reason she ever said yes to going out with Matthew, was because she had to get her mind of off Henry. She’d found herself falling in love with him, and each time she saw him with some girl, it hurt her. 

She thought she was saving herself from the heartbreak of losing Henry , but she didn’t realize she’d thrown herself into the arms of someone who made her lose herself.

And she’d tried to get out, but she also knew that Matthew wouldn’t let her go easy. She knew Matthew would harass her family and her friends the moment she tried to get away. She knew because he’d done it the last time she left.

“I'm going to go get some air” she pushed Matt’s arms off of her.

“Be fucking quick then” The tone of his voice frustrated her,  but the last thing she wanted to do was create scene at Heather’s birthday party.

Ginny didn’t head to the balcony. She knew Henry and her sister would try to start a conversation about Matt and she did not want to talk at the moment. 

So she rounded the corner of the room, pretending somebody called her, because she knew Matthew had his eyes on her. 

As soon as she knew he couldn’t see her anymore, she quickly went downstairs, through the first living rom and pushed the sliding glass door and walked out on to the portico, and sat down. The tears inevitably started rolling down her cheeks. Everything had become so messy, and she didn’t know what to do. 

The music from inside the house seemed muffled, and the sound of the ocean waves and the summer air, calmed her a little. 

But the calm didn’t last long.

*

Watching from the balcony, Elena watched Ginny sit down on the couch and break down. Her heart broke for her sister, but she knew that the only person who had the slightest chance of talking some sense into her little sister was Henry.

“Henry, talk to her, please” she nudged his arm, making him turn around and take his rage filled eyes off of Matt. He’d seen Ginny leave, but didn’t know where she was going.

“Wha-” he saw her small figure , on the couch. “fuck” he handed his drink to Elena and walked inside, through the small crowd of people.

As he walked past Matt; who had some random girl sitting on his lap, it took everything in him not to punch him.

He pushed open the door and stepped onto the portico.

It hurt him to see her looking so utterly defeated and broken. It made him angry, but most of all he felt helpless. His chest tightened when he heard Ginny sniffle.

And the moment she heard him walking, her shoulders tensed and she quickly wiped away her tears. She didn’t look up though.

“Matt I was jus-” she was quick to get on her feet ,“Oh Henry”  looked up and plastered a smile. If he didn’t know the woman in front of him as well as he did, he would’ve fallen for all the false smiles and laughter she’d learned to master over the course of the last few months.

But he knew her like the back of his hand, he noticed everything she did. He’d always been so smitten with her, and she didn’t even know it.

“Ginny” he whispered, taking slow steps towards her. 

“Yeah?” she raised her eyebrows, she tried to play it off, but both of them knew the effort was pointless now. 

Henry didn’t know how to proceed “why” the only thing he could get out. The only thing that made sense to ask.

“I don’t fucking know anymore, I don’t” It took him by genuine surprise when she’d openly said that. He expected himself to be shut out the moment he asked her why. That had been her immediate response to anyone who brought up her relationship with Matt. She’d shut them out and close herself off.

“I hate him. I hate him so much” she breathed out. She didn’t let out any tears, because now the long ignored anger was starting to get to her.

“then let us help, Me and Elena, we can help, Ginny.” He felt confused but relieved at the unpredictable outcome of their conversation.

“There’s nothing you can do, but I can. I’ve done it before-”

“wait, if you’ve got out before, why’d you get back with him?”

“i didn’t, he started harassing my family. threats and all that. I couldn’t let them get caught in the whirlwind of my issues.”

“no” 

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and turned towards the broad built man that stood next to her.

“no ?what do you mean?” 

“you can’t stay with him any longer. He’s fucked up and he’s ruining everything for you. Alright? We can all see it!” she let Henry’s words sink in,  looking down, but she didn’t expect to hear what she did next “he’s ruined it for me”

Ginny whipped her head in his direction “for you? what the fuck could he have possible ruined for you”

“nothing” she was obviously not supposed to hear that.

“No what the fuck is that supposed to mean Henry?” 

He was terrified now. There was nothing he could say to get out of this. Or maybe he didn’t want any other way ? After all these years and months of thinking of her in crowded rooms and watching her being held by someone else from afar, he knew there was no other woman he’d love like he loved her. He wanted no one but her in his arms. 

“I-Ginny, I may or may not have liked you for quite -uh-for quite sometime now ” he could not look her in the eyes, He wouldn’t. He knew she was going to turn around and leave. And he couldn’t watch. He couldn’t watch his world just leave.

Sweat sheened his palms, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“wait what?” The air seemed thicker, and she kept wondering if this was some cruel joke he thought was ok to play on her , “I- no you don’t. Fuck off. Stop fucking around with me”

he didn’t expect that “I'm not messing with you. I do , and if you don’t that's” he breathed out “ that's fine”

“Henry” she lifted his face to look her in the eyes “ Are you telling me the truth right now?” and that's when he saw it. For the first time in months, he saw some hope in her eyes. 

“I am”. 

He felt nervous, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this anxious or nervous, but he knew if he didn’t take a chance now, it would never come back around a second time. 

She was soft, as she always had been. Her lips were warm and tasted of the whiskey she’d just drank. But they molded with his perfectly. 

He was a big and burly man, but his hold was gentle and loving. He held her with absolute love, and his hands were warm as they slowly slid around her head. Both his hands held her head, his thumbs keeping her hair out of her face. She slid small hand around his warm neck, she stood on her tiptoes to reach him properly, but she held him like as if she was holding on for dear life, because she was. 

His presence brought with it a sense of tranquility , she’d forgotten the feeling of.

“What the fuck!” She let go. She didn’t want to, but she needed to.

“What the fuck are you doing!”  the anger that seethed in his words, made Ginny flinch. But she soon realized that this was her way out. She could finally get away from him. 

Before she she could respond, Matt lunged forward to grab Ginny by the arm , but she was quick and moved out of his reach. She knew him all too well.

“Do not touch me, You’re nothing but an asshole, and I will not take your shit anymore” she yelled. Ginny was thankful that the music inside the house was too loud for anyone to hear what was going on outside.

“You know you’ll come back , you fucking know it” The anger in his face made Ginny feel even more infuriated. He had no right to to be angry. He’d made her life miserable for months.

“No she won’t ”  Henry stepped in front of Ginny. Protecting her wasn’t the only thing on his mind. Matthew needed to understand that he didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as Ginny, leave alone go out with her. And Henry would make sure that, that point got across to the vile man in front of him.

He wouldn’t watch from the sidelines anymore. He wouldn’t watch Ginny get hurt anymore.

He glared at Matthew. His fists clenched, taking deep breaths. He had his left arm stretched outward slightly to keep Matthew away from Ginny.

“She’s fucking belongs me to Cavill!” Matthew screamed. 

“she’s not a fucking object!” He’d really pushed Henry too far. Henry hadn’t punched someone in the face before. It was never a  necessity. But he soon realized that there was no way matt would leave her alone if he didn’t let him know that he would be right there , ready to hand his ass back to him each time. “ and she does NOT belong to anyone”,  Matt lay on the floor. His nose bleeding. Henry was much bigger built than him, and Matthew knew he wouldn’t win a fight against Henry at any point.

“stay away from her” Henry clenched his teeth.

“are you alright” Ginny knew it would take her a while to actually be alright. It would take her a while to be herself again, it would take her a while to find herself , but she‘d find it. She’d find herself, as long as she had Henry’s support. she’d slowly find her way.

“I will be”, she smiled and held his left hand , and guided him back into the house.

She gave her sister a smile, a knowing one , as she passed by her, and opened the door to the bathroom. 

“Here” she held his hand under the cool water, under the tap. 

But Henry paid no attention to it. He just kept staring at her . Turning off the tap, he further ignored Ginny asking him why he turned the tap off, and kissed her. 

This was what home meant, he realized. She was the only thing he wanted, she was the only thing that mattered to him , besides Kal of course, She was who and what he needed. And she could absolutely destroy him, and he wouldn’t care, because he’s so smitten with her.

there were no words spoken , just the two of them holding each other. And when they had to break their kiss, she held her forehead to his. The two of them just looked into each others eyes, which didn’t last too long, because Henry attached their lips once again. They couldn’t help it. 

“I’ve wanted this for far too long” his warm breath hit her neck, sending small tingles down her spine. 

Ginny didn’t respond. She simply just hugged him tight, her arms around his neck, Henry’s big arms around her torso. Her eyes were teary when she gave a small chuckle.

“me too” 

“Fucking FINALLY!” Elena stood in the doorway, she dramatically rolled her eyes. But didn’t fight off the smile that graced her face at the sight of her sister being truly happy.

She shook her head and turned around to leave Henry and Ginny to themselves. 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Loki Series Thoughts—Glorious Purpose

Ok, I’m always nervous about posting my thoughts, but here we go. Spoilers ahead of course!!! (Disclaimer: Any gifs or images are not mine.)

Let’s start out with the episode’s name: Glorious Purpose. I know some people were a bit miffed about the emphasis put on the line, but I actually thought it worked well. It’s not so much that Loki actually believes in this “purpose,” but rather he is clinging to what he’s been told his purpose is. And by the end of the episode, he’s finally working through some of the things he’s been hurt by, abandoning what he’s been forced into and ready to be who he wants. Granted, it’s still going to take some time for him to come to grips with all that has happened, but I’m excited to see the journey.

The TVA. They undeniably suck. Whether or not it will be addressed directly, they are the (or one of the) antagonists in the show. What they are doing is, frankly, tyrannical. Three “time keepers” have taken it upon themselves to force countless versions of time and people into one single stream. And you know what? They can’t control that timeline. Not like they want to. As much as Loki’s line about “the weak” applies to himself, it applies to the TVA, too. It’s a facade of control that they cling to; if they truly had the right, the ability, to control time, everyone would follow their path. There would be no variants. Now, I could write a whole separate analysis on the MCU’s explanation of time travel. It’s convoluted and in a large way doesn’t make sense.

I’d like to talk about Loki’s characterization. I am, in a word, relieved. From the trailers, Tom seemed to be over-acting, something rather strange for someone so good at conveying deep emotions through nuanced actions. Now I believe any exaggerated lines from the trailers are just Loki trying to separate himself from who he’s been told he is, and trying to reinvent himself. I don’t think that’s a bad thing either; they’re not rewriting Loki, he’s just growing in a new way. And though this way is “new” I think it will be similar to what we’ve seen before. From what we’ve seen so far, there is good continuity, and they are addressing things about Loki that should be addressed in canon.

Loki projects. Most notably in the Avengers, but also a bit in Thor 1 and The Dark World, a lot of Loki’s lines can be applied to himself, though he is talking generally or towards another group. What comes to mind is actually something he touches upon again in the series. The illusion of freedom. And though it is not said that line in particular is him thinking of himself, it can be inferred based on his admission that the line in the gifs above apply to him. Also that little gesture when he says “weak” breaks me. He’s hurting so much.

Loki is not a villain. He may think he’s one because everyone else is telling him that, yet we’re already seeing it brought up that it’s not true. I can only hope that we’ll see Loki state this himself later in the series. He was largely forced to do what he did. It is not his fault, so how can he be a villain?

Loki cares. Tom’s acting is just *chef’s kiss* Seeing his mother’s death hurts so much. I love that his first response is denial. Loki is thrown into something he’s never known about before, being shown things that, to his knowledge, have never happened. But then when he’s had a few seconds to wander around the TVA on his own terms, he’s more come to grips with all that’s going on. So, when he’s by himself and see’s Frigga lying there, dead, it gets to him. Then seeing Odin still call him his son, he feels the slightest glimmer of hope, but also regret; he already knows in the back of his mind that he’s not actually going to get that. Loki’s living from second to second, trying to hold on. He probably thinks this ends with his death. (I do have issues with that Odin scene in context of Ragnarok but that’s more a tangential aside, so I’ll gloss over it for now.) Then seeing Thor and himself acting like brothers again is heartwarming. So just when he’s feeling uplifted, Thanos comes into the picture. He realizes how much control the titan still had over his life; he never really escaped. And in the end, Thanos made good on his promise. And that is terrifying! And he laughs at it. It’s a sad sort of laugh, one that’s slightly crazed. Loki feels that no matter what he does, it ends in pain. By the end of seeing all that, he is a man broken. Rather, more broken than he already was.

Loki is struggling. That’s nothing profound; it’s obvious. But where it really stands out to me is actually in a part I originally thought to be out of character. I am referring to “What if I was a robot and I didn’t know it.” Upon closer inspection, I realize it’s actually that his perception of himself has been so thrown that he really isn’t sure about his own chemical makeup anymore. Odin and Frigga keeping from him that he’s a frost giant made him so unsure of himself, he thought he might not even be a living being.

Nervous tics. Was I the only one noticing his leg bouncing when he talked to Mobius? And what about that scene when he’s sitting on the steps? He begins to pick at his hands. Note, that’s something he did in T1 after finding out he was a frost giant and while confessing to the Warriors Four about how he was the one who told the guard of their trip to Jotunheim. Just a little detail I really appreciated. (If anyone has gifs of any of these things, feel free to share :)

Mobius. I’ll be honest, I’m a bit undecided. I’m hesitant to say he’s evil. After all, we haven’t seen that much of him yet. However, I will say he is unscrupulous and manipulative. His questions weren’t to help Loki work through his trauma. Mobius was trying to goad him into helping, and likely was trying to gauge how much this Loki is like the variant he’s tracking. When Loki makes any admission of his feelings, it’s something he already knew, not a conclusion Mobius helped him reach. Mobius mocks him a bit and pushes his buttons because he sees Loki as a means to an end, and wants to know how easily he can get him to work with him. And what strikes me is how similar Mobius’s deal is to Thor’s deal in TDW. Thor doesn’t offer Loki freedom, he offers revenge. Mobius’s deal is just another variation of this. He can’t offer “salvation” but he can offer something “better”. Working for the TVA really isn’t better, though. So what does he mean? Well, I think he means a chance for Loki to prove he’s a hero. I hope as the show progresses it’s addressed that Loki doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. That’s what he’s been doing his whole life, but I want Loki to see for himself that he doesn’t have to.

Miss Minutes. Propaganda. Plain and simple, it’s propaganda. Besides the way it praises the “time keepers” as amazing saviors, necessary to keep the world in order, it’s essentially saying “don’t think for yourself.” The whole point of the video is “the time keepers are great. The TVA is flawless. Trust us to decide everything. You have no autonomy in the world we want, so surrender your free will. Submit to the system we’ve decided is perfect and everything will be just fine.” Of course, by “just fine” they mean the variant will be pruned and the timeline will keep going as the time keepers see fit. The animation style was great though! It really fit.

The infinity stones. I think their inclusion makes sense. If you remember from Endgame, the stones being in the right place in the right time keeps the timeline from branching, and thus prevents the multiverse from being created. Likely, the time keepers used the stones to make their “sacred timeline.” Naturally, any variant time stones would cause a problem. That’s why they have so many extras. But think about how pointless so much of what happened seems. Nat, Gamora, Vision, Tony, everyone who was snapped, everyone who was left. So, literally the entire universe was flipped upside down for paperweights. It really puts Thanos’s pursuit of the stones into perspective, doesn’t it?

The cloaked figure. I think there’s some misdirection going on here in one way or another. Mobius says he’s chasing a Loki variant, then immediately it cuts to a scene with the cloaked figure. Our minds are likely to assume that is the variant then. But they don’t actually say it’s Loki, so I’m inclined to believe it’s not. Though, I don’t have enough information to say who I do think it is, I could make a couple of educated guesses and say Mephisto (he certainly interacted with Loki in the comics, plus there’s the stained glass window) or Sylvie. Well, whoever Sophia Di Martino’s character is. I know she was previously listed as Sylvie on sources such as IMDb, but that has since disappeared. But why would you have a “young Sylvie” (Cailey Fleming) without an older version? There is speculation Di Martino’s character will be Lady Loki, but I hope this won’t happen. If they make Lady Loki her own character, I doubt we’ll see Variant Loki get to be fluid. Even if it’s confirmed on the record, it’d be nice to see actually happen beyond a piece of paper. And with twist villains being such a prominent force in modern media, I’m interested to see who our cloaked friend really is.

Time travel. Like I said earlier, this is a lot. But I can’t talk about the episode and not mention this aspect in at least a little more depth. I don’t like how the MCU deals with time travel. I think it’s an unnecessarily complicated mix of a number of different, already complicated theories. However, I think Loki will ultimately escape from the TVA and create a multiverse too difficult to prune (and maybe he’ll actually get to burn the place down too!) This will then tie directly into Doctor Strange 2. Do you guys know what that’s called? The Multiverse of Madness. Actually, in the Miss Minutes propaganda, they almost exactly say “will throw the multiverse into madness.” Will we get to (finally!) see a certain raven-haired god meeting Dr. Strange? And maybe even the Scarlet Witch herself? Well, I’m not sure, but right now I think it’s looking pretty good!

And some random things that didn’t really anywhere else:

Peggy is in the background?! My thought here is that Steve wasn’t supposed to stay with her. This made not only a Variant Steve, but also a Variant Peggy. We may not see Steve, but I bet he’s been taken care of too!! And who knows? Maybe there will be a cameo later. Otherwise, it might be something that was cut from the show, or just a fun easter egg of sorts.

The score was so good! It sets the mood perfectly.

Loki is a good fighter. Even if he’s overpowered, he finds a way.

Some of the humor didn’t land, but that might just be a personal thing.

So now my final thoughts. It’s their strongest pilot yet. So much emotion crammed into less than an hour. A lot of exposition, too, yet it didn’t feel tedious (Endgame I’m looking at you). And then we get to delve into Loki’s psyche, something that really appeals to me! Overall, 9/10. I hope the rest of the series is as good!

Did I miss anything? Was there something you were hoping I’d mention and didn’t? Or do you have something to add or (politely!) disagree with? I’d love to hear it all! Remember, fandom is a safe space to talk about, analyze, and debate about things you enjoy. My ask box is always open with anon on. Reblogs and comments are great too. Thanks!

Me after watching the episode:

[ivyyreid]

stars in your eyes

2 description: reader is tortured, spencer tries and save her.

category: definetly angst, maybe a teeny tiny bit of fluff?

tw: death, mentions of cuts, burns, kidnapping, words like ‘whore’, knives.

masterlist

spencer’s pov:

the team sits around the table, at the sacramento police department conference room. well, everyone but y/n. y/n is also the reason the team is in the conference room. 

while the team was tracking down an unsub, y/n was kidnapped, drugged, and taken to who knows where. 

at 27, she’s the youngest member of the team so everyone is protective of her. but it’s not just because of her age. it’s because she’s just herself. funny, sarcastic, bubbly, bold, gorgeous, and affectionate. even her flaws are lovable.

we all sit at the round table, discussing where she could be. the only thing we know, is that she was taken as leverage, or as a warning. all our other theories on where she could be are a bit too far-fetched.

our unsub is a woman named coleen robbins. she’s been kidnapping, torturing, and killing girls in their 20s who resemble the girl her boyfriend cheated on her with. y/n fit the description exactly. y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and freckles. we didn’t notice until it was too late.

garcia's been on facetime with us for the past two hours, helping us trace pointless leads, or trying her best to track coleen. none of our efforts are working though. y/n’s phone is off, and coleen hasn’t used her credit card or anything. we’re at a loss.

hotch is pacing back and forth by the whiteboard, rossi is staring out the window, emily and jj are looking at every other victim’s file together, derek has his head in his hands, and I’m just sitting here. This is one of the only times where my brain is of no use to the team. 

“hey guys?” Garcia’s voice is wobbly, somethings wrong. “i just got emailed a link. you’re gonna want to see this. i’m sending it to you now.” i’m racking my brain trying to think of what the link could be. i have nothing. that is, until a live feed pops up on the television. everyone gasps, and i feel all the blood rush from my face.

y/n is tied to a chair, in the middle of a dark room. there are burns, cuts and bruises all over her body. coleen stands behind her, twisting a knife in between her fingers. 

“oh my god,” hotch mutters, and everyone else just stares at the television in stunned silence. “go on, you little whore. say your goodbyes,” coleen’s icy voice slips through the speakers in the room, and I hold back the urge to punch the tv screen.

y/n looks up, her face illuminated by a single light bulb. she smiles weakly. she’s the only person I know who would focus on others feelings in a situation like this. 

“hey guys,” she says, her voice wobbling a bit. for some reason she’s smiling a bit. “i wish i could say bye in person, but this is the best i can do i guess,” she laughs weakly, and plays with her fingers; her nervous habit. 

“rossi,” she starts, and he looks up at the screen, his eyes brimming with tears. “oh my god I’m going to miss you so much. you’re the only person I know who brings instant pasta in their suitcase, and you can always make me smile. just, keep being yourself, don’t change.”

“hotch, you’re like the strict, loving father I never had” her voice breaks, and she laughs a bit. no one else does. “you were always there for me, for my first dead body, my first case, everything. you’re the reason that i didn’t quit after my first case. you helped me get through it, and you can always keep me on track. i’ll miss you so much.” hotch tries to maintain a normal, serious expression but I can see the pain in his eyes. 

“emily, you’re so funny and sarcastic and beautiful and amazing. i’m always wishing i knew more about you, you’re just so interesting! i still can’t tell if you were joking when you said you worked at a strip club or not,” a tear spills out of Emilys eye, and she mumbles something to the tv screen. “i love you endlessly, please please never change,” y/n says, and i see her blink away a tear or two through the screen. 

“penelope, you’re probably one of the most unique, amazing people i’ve ever met. i remember on my first day i was so scared and nervous, and you just gave me a huge hug when i walked in, and I knew everything would be fine. i love your hair, and your outfits, and the way you greet the phone. i love you so much, never ever change or I will rise from the dead and perform some satanistic ritual on you” I hear penelope cry through the facetime video.

“derek. you’re just so great, and it will always amaze me how you always have a girl on your arm. i loved every second of getting drunk with you, even when you would force me to do karaoke. please do me a favor and marry penelope.” derek puts his hand on his head, and stays silent. i can see the emotion on his face.

“and jj, I don’t know how to thank you for being my first real best friend. i never really had people i could trust, but then i met you and i knew, i knew we would be friends until the end. you’re so gorgeous, i’ve spent hours wishing i was you. i’ll miss our saturday girl’s breakfasts, and our movie nights, and even you calling me at four am to say we have a case. love you forever.”

jj sobs, but everyone else is too upset to comfort her. i know it’s my turn for the goodbyes. but i can’t do it. i want to run out of the room, punch a wall, i can’t do this. i can’t watch her say bye to me, while i think about everything i never said, everything i should have said. i should have said it when we sat on the roof and watched the stars. i should have said it when we sat in the car and ate ice cream and listened to 90s music. i should have said it everytime we sat in the cafe and drank coffee with way too much sugar. i should have said it. but i didn’t. and now it’s too late.

“spencer.” y/n’s voice comes in through the tv, and i bring myself to look up. she has a sad smile on her face, and she’s holding back tears. “spencer, my best friend. not even my best friend. best friend was just too generic, you were so much more than a best friend. we were the type of people who would look at the stars together, and talk about constellations, and the theory of the universe together. we were the type of people who would come over to each others apartments at three am and watch movies or lay in bed and stare at each other and just talk. we were the type of people who would sit in the parked car, eating ice cream and forcing each other to listen to nineties music or beethoven. we would sit together in the police department for hours, drinking coffee to keep us awake while we tried to solve a case. we would laugh at each others jokes that no one else understood, and compare our opinions on classic novels. i remember the first day i met you, when i spilled coffee all over you in the elevator, and you told me this crazy fact about how meeting someone for the first time when you’re embarrassed strengthens a relationship. and then i remember i took you out for coffee because i felt bad, and then you accidentally spilled it on me. i remember getting home and laughing for hours. we were the type of people who were happier when we were with each other. and whatever star I was born under, you were born under it too. we’re not best friends spencer, we’re soulmates. and...and....I love you.” her voice breaks, and she looks at the camera with a nostalgic face, like she’s already gone. 

i cry, i can’t help it. i just want to scream, ‘i love you too!’. i want her to hear me. but it’s too late. it will always be too late. 

-------------------------------------------

we’re all in the suvs. coleen gave us her location. i know i should be rejoicing, but it was what she said after she gave it. ‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’ I yell at morgan to go faster, even though deep down i know he’s doing everything he can.

‘now you’ll be able to watch her die.’

after what feels like an eternity, we pull up to a small shed. everyone jumps out of the van, vests on, guns and flashlights in their hands. morgan kicks down the door, and we all run in. i hear hotch yell that he has coleen, but i don’t care. i need to find y/n. i run from room to room, panicking, until I reach a small porch at the back of the house. and y/n’s there.

she always seemed so large in life, but now, nearing her death, she seems so small. like a little girl. i hold back tears, i have to be strong for her. she’s lightly breathing, and watching the sky. when I reach her, i sit down, and cradle her head in my lap. 

“i wanted to see the stars,” she whispered, and i nod, watching her face.

“remember that day…. that day in the park?” she says, tilting her head to look up at me. 

of course i do. we had just gotten back from a long case, and y/n had me come to the park with her, to watch the sunset. we laid down in the grass, and watched the sky. i was still struggling with the case, and i was telling her about how awful it was, when she grabbed my hand, and pointed at the sky. look at how beautiful the world is, she had said. without hard cases, and ugliness, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate this. we wouldn’t be able to appreciate the beauty of everything, she told me, and I remember I had just stayed silent, watching the angelic-looking girl.

“of course,” I say, and she smiles up at me, blood dripping down her face. 

“remember how pretty the sunset was? how beautiful everything was? you have to remember the beauty of that day, spencer. the sky was glowing, and trees were rustling, and birds were singing. the earth is beautiful. that was the day I knew i loved you. when I held your hand, and we just looked at the sky.” she brings a hand up, and touches my face gently. of course she’s the one who’s comforting me when she’s dying. i stay silent, cradling her head, and stroking her hair. she looks at me again, and i see pain in her eyes. “i don’t want to die, spencer” y/n whispers, her voice breaking a bit, “i don’t want to die like this. i don’t want to die, spence” a tear slips down her cheek, and i notice i’m crying a bit. “hey, hey, shhhhh” i comfort, wiping the tear off her face. she stares back at the stars. this is my chance to tell her. i know she’s going to die, and it’s completely pointless because she already knows, but I have to. 

“i love you, y/n. i love you so much. i’ve loved you, and i don’t want you to go”. the girl turns and looks at me, a sad smile on her face. “i know, spence. and i love you too. so much”. I stroke her hair, wishing I could kiss her but i can’t. she looks at my red eyes, and my tear stained cheeks, and starts humming. humming a song. our favorite song. my head fills the lyrics in. 

you’re a part time lover, and a full time friend.

the monkey on your back is the latest trend,

i don’t see what anyone can see, 

in anyone else.

i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,

i kiss you all starry eyed my bodies swayin’ from side to side

i don’t see what anyone can see,

in anyone else, but you.

here is the church, and here is the steeple, 

we sure are cute for two ugly people,

i don’t see what anyone can see, in anyone else.

suddenly, she stops and turns and looks at me, and suddenly i realize this is it. “i can see the stars in your eyes, spence” she whispers, and i watch as the breath leaves her body. the way she sadly smiled, before her eyes glazed over to look at the sky, the way her lips parted. and it’s kind of beautiful. but there was something sad and terrible about it too. because it was death. 

i can see the stars in your eyes, spencer.

[hisunya]

floch x his future s/o “my precious human.” an au, inspired by my headcanon & @bakachanx3 ‘s and @itwasreloading idea!

disclaimer; the au is written from the pov of they/them pronouns user. if yours are different, just think of yours while reading!

Floch wasn’t the type to be interested in anyone, especially during the mission. He was too focused on his own to care about others. This time was different. When he saw a person falling from the tree, he couldn’t care but run with his ODM gear. Floch wasn’t really thinking about the reason their equipment broke, but he knew that leaving it to themself is just a selfish move. So Floch left his formation, trying best to catch them. He fastly used his ODM gear, opening arms toward the person. They simply accepted his gesture, binding their arms on his neck.

They were almost home, it was a good thing. Floch tried to put her down on the ground slowly, to not cause any harm. He never actually saw them before, or maybe they just never catched his eyes. They were looking pretty, even he noticed that.

“Thank you… I mean, really thank you.” they said, after a few seconds of silence. Floch didn’t actually think of getting a credit for his action.

“Well, no hard feelings.” Floch answered, taking them from him. He just started to fix his ODM gear, ready to get back to formation.

Surprisingly, the person he just saved started to walk next to him, smiling brightly and thankfully. It was such a surprise, but Floch tried his best to not show his happiness toward it. He wasn’t the type of person to get easily excited outside, but inside of him he just got really happy. At first he was even ready to start a conversation, but finally decided to keep himself shut.

“Is there any way I could reward you your help?” they asked, breaking the minutes of silence. They were already high with ODM gear, but Floch heard them really good.

“I didn’t do anything to be rewarded.” he answered, keeping his face away from them.

“Still, you did great!” they shouted, but Floch left them behind.

For real he got really happy and felt appreciated. But he was the type to avoid someone praising him. Floch didn’t know why, he just felt embarrassed, so he left them behind. Those words were repeating in his head anyway. After they got back, it was dinner time. Or in other words, the worst time of Floch’s day. He was always sitting alone, and he never had a regular place to sit. Everyone had their group of friends, but he had none. That wasn’t messing him that much, but when he had a moment to think about his life, it was making him sad.

He entered as one of the last people around, stressfully looking for a free table to eat on. He found one, so he just sat with his dinner. Floch was thinking about the situation he just had before, glancing to see that person around. But he didn’t see them anywhere, he got pretty nervous. Not like he cared that much, but if they die anyway, him losing his time to save them was a pointless waste. Floch didn’t have a thing to think of anyway. Everyone was talking with someone, conversating about the mission they just had. But Floch didn’t have a soul to talk with, which was generally pretty sad.

Again, surprisingly, he felt someone sitting next to him, which made him realise who it was pretty fast. It was the person he saved before, smiling the same way, just sitting right next to him. Though, it was the first time someone ever sat with him at dinner, like intentionally.

“I noticed you’re sitting here alone. You didn’t deserve it, though.” they said, slowly blowing on their hot food.

“How can you know what I deserved? I mean, I just saved you. Probably anyone would do the same.” Floch answered, trying to hide his joy, he received within those words.

“I just know you are a good person. And sitting alone like a fool? Definitely not deserved.” they explained themself.

“Well, having no friend is a benefit sometimes. You probably have your group to sit with, why are you wasting your time with me?” Floch asked, trying to look carefree.

“Because you’re the one that saved me. My name is Y/N. What’s your?” they made a move first, trying to make friends with Floch.

Afterall it wasn’t that hard to gain some trust from him. Floch got pretty excited, just thinking about gaining a friend made him happy. But after a minute, he realised it may be just temporary. Maybe they just wanted to sit with him to reward his help? Tomorrow won’t be that happy. Y/N won’t be that devoted to him.

“Floch. Floch Forster.” he answered with a visible smirk on his face. They smiled back, but it was it for their conversation today.

Floch slowly opened the doors to the dining hall sleepily, getting everyone to know he didn’t sleep well last night. He did get some sleep, but it wasn’t enough to be energized for the day. Floch obviously spent some time wondering about Y/N he met yesterday. Actually they were on his mind for a long time, which made him sleep less. He knew that today he isn’t going to sit with them. It was just one time thing, of course he knew. But for some reason he was still kind of hyped by this situation. Like, he was thinking maybe they will sit with him? But at the same time he was almost sure he was expecting too much. Today he had to sit with some freshman soldiers, which were transported here a couple days ago. Even they had their group of friends. Floch had none, which made him sit next to them. He didn’t say anything, just started eating like he used to do every time sitting with unknowns. They were surprised at first, but then they decided to ignore Floch. Well, he wasn’t interested in making friends with them anyway, so the way the event turned was satisfying.

Then, he felt a warm heat on his shoulders, which made him fastly turn around. He saw them. The person he saved, looking at him with a smile on his face. He was really surprised, and also kind of amazed, but maybe not in the right way, because physical touch wasn’t something he experienced much.The warmth of their hands made him probably red on his face, because it was so unexpected. They sat next to him, placing their dinner on the table.

“Can I stay?” they asked, with a smirk on their face. “Are those your friends? I thought you’re sitting alone, that’s why I got here.” they added, looking at him.

“No, I sat on the first plate I noticed free. You really aren't going back to your friends?” Floch questioned, looking at them.

“You are my friend, aren’t you?” they smiled, leaving Floch with noticeable blush on his face. He didn’t really expect that answer. But it obviously wasn’t making him mad, or whatever. Forster was happy, because he finally gained a friend.

“I mean, if you think so. I’m not really a friendly type of person.” he tried to hide his excitement. Floch was like this always. He didn’t like it when people felt satisfaction, because of him. So he tries to act careless, which is not always working out.

“I think there is no problem with this. I mean everyone deserves a friend, they can always rely on. And you deserve it really much. I see a big problem with you sitting here alone.” they said, with a haughty voice. It sounded like something very important and serious.

“You can chill with no worries, I’m doing fine.” Floch cutted it off, maybe from some kind of excitement he got, when they were complimenting him that much. He wasn't a big attention seeker.

Or maybe he was, but it was deep inside him. Floch was actually scared to show how much attention he is interested in getting. He thought that showing this side of him will discourage people from him. Everyone that cared at least a bit took a big part of Floch’s heart. He was thankful to all people that even sometimes, showed some interest.

“I have a gift for you, or maybe just a return to your help yesterday.” they changed the topic, with a smirk on their face. Floch got really, really surprised. He absolutely didn’t expect anything, not even a thanks.

“Thank you, I mean… I didn’t save you to receive any gift or anything. I just think it’s a common thing to do. I saw you in trouble, so I had to help you get out of it.” he smiled, finishing his food. He should probably leave now, but he stayed. Stayed to talk with Y/N.

“Not everyone is so kind-hearted like you. Some people wouldn’t care to catch me, but you did. You deserve a solid thank you.” they explained themself, smiling. They were still eating their food, not like Floch who was already finished.

“It's impossible to call me a kind hearted person. I’ll probably do bad things in future, in particular to save people I love.” he said, making the situation seem more serious. Y/N got pretty interested in his words, but decided to not scrumb the topic. Probably it’s something deeper, so their question may trigger him.

“Well, we’re in scouts afterall. Each of us did bad things, but it does not ease you to be a good person. You are a good person to people you like. I can’t call you a bad person after things you did to me.” their explanations did well to impress Floch. He immediately started to discuss this topic in his head. Y/N seemed to be very intelligent and also not really straightforward. Talking to them made him feel really well.

“You have a point, but for me overall I’m not a good person. But thank you, anyway. You are such a good person, I mean… to me. Precious human, I’d say.” he confessed, leaning his head down due to embarrassment.

It was the first time he ever complimented someone like that. Those words were really big to him, and meant so much. Floch ever wouldn’t call someone like this, but it was an immediate thought. He just realised it is the right person to compliment deep from his heart. Not lie, be manipulative or whatever. Just be a good person. As they said.

Floch was already half-asleep, exactly the moment when he heard loud knocking on his doors. He was really surprised, but also annoyed at first. Who was interrupting his time, when he is supposed to rest? He somehow managed to put himself up again, only with his boxers, also. Floch wasn't aware of the way, the knocking person was Y/N. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a big plate, holded by Y/N. It was his favourite meal… Though, he couldn’t eat it for years. That’s because he left his mother's side to join the Survey Corps.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but isn’t it your favourite food?” they asked with a smirk on their face. Floch couldn’t help but just stand here with a confused face.

“How did you… Thank you.” he replied, without useless words. He was really happy but also surprised. Y/N was so dearly to him right now.

“That is an official thanks for your help that day. I finally did something to return your great action.” they explained themself, smiling.

“That was a while ago. Why are you still concerned?” Floch asked, opening the doors further, to make Y/N enter.

They sat down on the floor, because the table wasn’t big enough. But they didn’t mind. Y/N was slowly imposing the food. Floch was just looking, trying to hide his happiness.

“But for me it was a big thing. And I know you aren’t going to approve it anyway. You are just the type to keep yourself away from the merit.” it was surprisingly correct. Floch in fact was exactly like they explained.

“You are my precious human, so I will worry forever.” they said like it’s nothing smiling.

And that was the answer he wanted to hear.

[loveinterestcastiel]

The Same Stuff as Stars

I hope this works for you, for anon <3 spoilers for 15x18-20. No beta, sorry, we die like men 

Prompt: Person A: “Aren't you glad to see me?" B: "No, not really."

You can also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400460#main

He finds Cas in a green field just beyond where the edge of the forest breaks and turns to prairie. He’s just standing there, leaning his right shoulder up against a sprawling, gnarled old oak tree.

It looks like Dean is almost expected.

He pulls the Impala off the road and shuts it off. He’d turned off the music a little ways back, content to have just the sound of the wind whistle-roaring in his ears as he and Baby raced down the winding open road, but now his hands are shaking.

There are wildflowers and seeds scattered on the ground, honeybees and wild birds and all manner of life positively humming around them. It’s beautiful.

“Cas,” Dean calls, a nervous relief flooding through him.

Cas turns to look back at him, his face closed off, his mouth set in a twisted little line.

“Hello, Dean.”

He sounds sad, and turns away. Dean hurries across the last remaining stretch of gently waving grass and comes to a halt at his side.

He wants to tell him. He reaches out to take Cas by the arm, but there’s something on Cas’s face. While he’s been standing there like a statue and waiting for Dean to join him underneath the rustling canopy, a tear has made its way onto his left cheek, suspended there like a glittering little betrayal.

The confession he’d planned shrinks in Dean’s throat, tucking itself away into a hot, prickly ball of fear that settles in his heart.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” he asks instead, trying for some of his usual laissez-faire bravado and falling miserably short.  

“No, not really,” Cas says softly. He still won’t look at Dean, staring resolutely out over the field towards the horizon where the sun- or whatever celestial illusion passes for the sun in Heaven- has begun to set, casting pale red-gold tendrils spiraling out into the most perfect blue Dean’s ever seen. It reminds him of Cas. Of Cas’s eyes.

Another tear falls. Cas pays it no mind, but his lip trembles, just barely.  

I gotta know. "Why are you crying, Cas?" If he even knows. The question sticks in Dean’s throat and leaves a lump in its wake. He thinks he might be crying soon, too.

"I wish I could say it was because of a perfect ending,” Cas begins softly. “I know humans wish for that, that sort of an absolution, or resolution, tying up loose ends, everyone getting what they deserve. I wish I was happy to see you, I do. But I’m not, Dean- fuck,” he swears, shaking his head. Dean’s never heard him swear like that before, not even when Billie had them cornered- and was that already so long ago?

“I need you to know what you mean to me, what you’ve always-” Cas’s voice wavers and stops.

He pauses, watching the colors dancing in the distance, and takes a breath to steady himself. "Gabriel used to say that humans were built out of the same stuff as stars, and when I look at you, I know it's true. You burned so bright. You still do. I-  it aches just to be near you. But as long as I’ve known you, I have never wanted to be anywhere else. I don’t, I-” he turns and meets Dean’s gaze. His eyes take Dean’s breath and freeze it in his chest. The look on Cas’s face is staggering, the weight of his expression hitting Dean like a sledgehammer to the gut. “I know I can’t have you, but I can’t regret loving you," he whispers.

“Cas, I’m not asking you to.” Dean says, unsure and shifting his weight uneasily from foot to foot.

“No, I know you wouldn’t,” Cas says quickly. “But you deserved to live, Dean. Not to be here. Not yet.” He means it.

And that’s true. Dean knows that whatever his ending was- heroic, pointless, depressing, ridiculous- it was too soon. But what’s done is done.

“Maybe I did, Cas,” Dean admits, letting the last of his anger fall away from his heart and dissolve into the air. “But there’s no going back, and you were gone and- and I’ve never felt so alone, Cas. Now how could I want to be anywhere but here, with you?” Dean asks, taking Cas by the hand and drawing him closer before reaching up to cup his face in his hands.

Cas takes a shocked step to him and sobs out a sharp little breath when Dean’s hands touch his face, his thumbs stroking over Cas’s cheekbones and swiping away the last clinging tears. He holds onto Dean’s shoulders too tightly, his fingers tugging at the fabric, his eyes searching Dean’s in disbelief.

“Cas, I love you. Of course I love you,” Dean rushes out, his heart racing, his voice wrecked. “You can have it- you can have me.” He pulls Cas as close as can be, and he kisses him. Something in his soul seems to slot into place, a feeling of rightness taking root in a way that he has never felt before. With Cas’s lips on his, his hands in his wild hair, and Cas clutching him to his chest like a prayer, Dean feels like he’s finally home.

Somewhere nearby, there are birds singing.

[bevioletskies]

(i’m caught between) goodbye and i love you

summary: Sometimes, Klavier thinks a little too much about how he never knew the last time he saw Apollo was going to be the last time he saw Apollo. So, when Apollo finally returns home from Khura’in, Klavier finds himself stuck, unsure of when to finally tell Apollo how he feels - especially when it seems like Apollo isn’t quite ready to confess, either.

word count: 16.9k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day seven of seven (prompt: "catharsis"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

Mild spoiler warning for Spirit of Justice; warning for brief mentions of alcohol and one scene where a character has a panic attack. Fic title is from the song (I'm Caught Between) Goodbye And I Love You by the Carpenters.

“What do you think, Gavin, which do you - hey, Gavin? Are you listening?”

Klavier startled at the sound of Apollo’s voice, too lost in his own thoughts to realize someone had been talking to him. He looked over at Apollo, who was standing underneath one of the courthouse’s most prolific picture windows, practically glowing in the early afternoon sun. Klavier’s breath hitched at the sight. “Ah - my apologies, Herr Forehead, I didn’t catch that. What were you saying?”

“Ema said we should all do something that doesn’t involve murder for once.” Apollo looked up from his phone, wincing. “Er, that is, something that doesn’t involve solving a murder for once. She suggested drinks, though Kay apparently prefers laser tag. As if I don't get enough bumps and bruises from helping Trucy out on weekends.”

“Ah, the life of a magician’s brother,” Klavier teased, smiling easily. “But, wait - do you mean to say Fräulein Detective actually wants to hang out with me? Or are you inviting me? Either way, I find it hard to believe.”

“No one’s more surprised than me,” Apollo drawled. “But seriously, Ema says Kay is making her ask you through me, ‘cos that totally makes sense. Anyway, drinks or laser tag? Or, y’know, both? They’re thinking this weekend since they’re going to some forensics convention next weekend. Did not know those existed. Do you think they give out swag bags full of fingerprint powder?”

“I would advise against it if they did,” Klavier said, chuckling. He then slipped his hands into his pockets, shooting Apollo an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Forehead, you’ll have to have a good time without me. I have a dentist appointment, some meetings...you know how it is. Maybe next time, ja?”

“Sure, I’ll let you know whenever that is,” Apollo replied with a nonchalant shrug; he sent a quick text, presumably to Ema, then pocketed his phone. “Anyway, I should go find Mr. Wright and head back to the agency. So, uh...see you when I see you, I guess.”

“Auf Wiedersehen, baby,” Klavier said, winking. Apollo rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and striding away, waving Klavier off over his shoulder. “Don’t have too good a time without me, though, ja?” Apollo’s wave instantly turned into a middle finger.

Barely two weeks later, Klavier found himself replaying the rather mundane conversation in his head over and over again as he walked into his superior’s office, his hands shoved into his pockets to hide how hard they were shaking. “Willkommen zurück, Herr Edgeworth. How was your flight? Smooth, I hope.”

“Smoother than what conspired in Khura’in, to be sure,” Edgeworth replied, neatly setting his teacup down in its saucer. “Don’t worry, Prosecutor Gavin, I’m still getting everything in order. I doubt you’ll have much work to do today, bar any last-minute cases coming in.”

“Danke, sir, good to know.” Klavier glanced briefly in the direction of Edgeworth’s custom chessboard, his red knights and blue pawns, just so he wouldn’t have to look at its owner’s steely gaze. “So, er - ”

“Out with it, Prosecutor Gavin,” Edgeworth said, sighing wearily. “I can tell you have something on your mind. I’m afraid I can’t give you the exact details of what happened, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Ah - ja, I know, I - I was just wondering if…” Klavier hesitated. “...if everyone is...okay. Safe and sound, so to speak.”

Edgeworth’s face softened. “Yes, everyone’s perfectly fine. Wright, Ms. Fey, Ms. Cykes, and Trucy are all fine.”

Klavier blinked. “Wait, but - what about Herr Fore - Herr Justice? What...did he…”

“I should have known that was who you were really curious about,” Edgeworth said knowingly, looking at Klavier over the tops of his glasses. His expression, gentle, almost sympathetic, made Klavier’s stomach churn. “Mr. Justice decided to stay behind in Khura’in indefinitely. He’s looking to help rebuild their legal system from the ground up.”

Klavier felt as if his heart had dropped right through to the floor. “He’s...he’s not coming back?” He could barely hear the sound of his own voice over the rush of his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Eventually, perhaps, but not anytime soon,” Edgeworth replied. “My apologies, Prosecutor Gavin. I know you two were…”

“Close?” Klavier let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Nein, not at all. We were barely even friends.”

Edgeworth straightened up in his seat, and then, to Klavier’s astonishment, removed his glasses. It was unnerving to see such warmth in his superior’s eyes, especially when he knew Edgeworth didn’t think much of him in the first place. Not after what had happened all those years ago, even though it hadn’t really been him. “Let me amend my previous statement, then. I know you two had a...connection of sorts.”

“Ja, through...through someone I’d rather not talk about.” Klavier cleared his throat. “Danke for letting me know, Herr Edgeworth. It’s...good to see Herr Justice making something of himself.”

“He's definitely an admirable young man,” Edgeworth replied, nodding slowly. “I can see why Wright took a liking to him. I can see why you took a liking to him.”

“Ah, well,” Klavier said, coughing again. “Anyway, I should leave you to it, sir. Have a good rest of your day, ja? I’ll be in my office if anything comes up.”

“Of course.” Edgeworth neatly slid his glasses back on, then turned his attention to his work laptop. “Take care, Prosecutor Gavin.” Nodding at the dismissal, Klavier bowed his head and left Edgeworth’s office, his footsteps noticeably heavier than they’d been when he first entered it. He took a few heaving breaths, then shut himself in his own office and let out a small, silent sob.

_____

“I see you’re moping again, Gavin-dono. Must be a day that ends in ‘y’.”

“Bitte, Herr Blackquill, I’m perfectly fine,” Klavier said, clutching his mug of tea a little tighter than necessary. “My trial yesterday? Perfekt. The weather during my morning run earlier today? Perfekt. The leftovers I brought for lunch today? Perfekt, so long as Herr Payne doesn’t break the microwave again before I get there...I don’t know how he manages to do that on a weekly basis. Anyway, as you can see, I’ve never been better.”

“What a sad testament to your mental state if that were true.” Simon dropped into the seat opposite him, his hands resting on top of the breakroom table, his intense gaze focused on Klavier’s face. Klavier didn’t find him as intimidating as everyone else did, especially not after he’d witnessed Simon sing a drunken duet with Kay, entirely unprompted, at an office holiday party. No amount of threats or glares could get Klavier to delete the video evidence off his backup hard drive. “Luckily for you, it’s entirely false. You’ve been acting strangely for weeks now, and I know the reason why.”

“Do you really?” Klavier sipped his tea. “I thought you didn’t, quote-unquote, ‘care to stick your nose in my absurd affairs’. After all, I’m the silly one of the prosecutor’s office, am I not?” Simon cocked his head slightly, perplexed. “Ah, that Prosecutor Gavin, what an odd one he is. All style and no substance, always speaking in that accent that no one believes is real, always spouting nonsense and song lyrics and little else.”

“Self-hatred doesn’t suit you, so I suggest you cease this pitiful act at once,” Simon said, frowning. “You’re a confident man, Gavin-dono. I’d even say your confidence is fully justified, foppish nature aside. And yet, here you are, torn up over Justice-dono’s absence like a heartbroken teenager.”

“I am not torn up,” Klavier sniffed, setting his mug down with a sharp clunk. “I’m happy to hear that Herr Forehead has found his true calling. A far cry from the loud, nervous rookie he was when we first met. Now, he’s just loud.”

“...hmph. Yes, that piercing voice of his certainly rivals Taka’s,” Simon replied, taking a moment to scratch the underside of his bird’s chin. Klavier didn’t like the way Taka was eyeing his hair; he suspected Taka was fighting against his instincts to make a nest.

“Maybe still a little nervous.” Klavier paused. “I imagine seeing him stand in a Khura’inese court must be quite...something.”

“I didn’t sit here with the intention of listening to you dance around your romantic feelings towards Justice-dono, you know,” Simon informed him. “It’s exhausting and pointless, and a waste of my time.”

Klavier averted his eyes from Simon’s face, finding himself oddly fascinated with a water stain on the opposite wall, right beside the notice board. “Why did you sit here, then?”

“Because...I know a lonely person when I see one.” Simon let the silence linger for a moment; Klavier wasn’t sure which of them favored dramatic pauses more. “Even Athena told me you seemed...not yourself. Though you’ve been performing your prosecutorial duties just fine, she said you were distant...distracted. Is it the lack of companionship, perhaps?”

“You and Herr Edgeworth seem to be under the impression that Forehead and I were friends,” Klavier said evenly, his tone growing increasingly irritated. “The truth is, Herr Blackquill - since you seem unusually interested for someone who barely says two words to me most mornings - that Apollo was my friend, but I wasn’t his. Is that what you wanted to hear? Has your analysis of my psyche scratched your itch?”

Like Edgeworth, Simon’s face almost seemed to soften. “I had no desire to rile you up, but...I see that I’ve done it, anyway. I see that I’ve overstepped. Forgive me, Gavin-dono.” Klavier looked up at him, stunned. Simon merely stood, smoothing out the front of his coat. Even Taka’s expression seemed apologetic. “Find someone to talk to, if you haven’t already; it will do you a world of good. I heard many a story from my fellow prisoners by simply offering to lend an ear. I think you’d find the process of opening up to be quite...illuminating. Freeing, even.”

“I’m sure I would.” Klavier took another sip and said nothing else.

_____

“Mr. Gavin! I thought I saw you in the audience, but I couldn’t believe it!”

Laughing, Klavier held out the bouquet of red roses in his arms for her to take. “Alles Gute zum Geburtstag, fräulein, what a perfect way to celebrate your eighteenth. You were as magical as ever, though who would ever expect any less?”

Beaming, Trucy accepted his flowers, then practically launched herself right at him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He barely managed to catch her in time. “Thank you so much! Ah, these are so beautiful - and they smell great, too!” She stepped back, taking a generous whiff before exhaling happily. “Hey, do you wanna drop by my dressing room for a sec? I have to go sign autographs and stuff, but I’m sure Athena would love to say hi!”

“Sure,” Klavier agreed. “Lead the way.” He followed Trucy down the backstage corridor, coming to a stop in front of a door with a gold nameplate in the shape of a silk top hat. Klavier involuntarily shuddered; the Gramarye seal had always been a sore spot for him, no matter how many good memories outweighed the bad. Trucy opened the door, revealing that it wasn’t just Athena who was waiting inside, but a whole group of people - Athena, the two Fey women whose names Klavier vaguely remembered from Trucy’s stories, Detective Gumshoe, and an odd, almost sad-looking girl wearing a traditional costume. However, Klavier’s eyes went straight to the two people conversing by Trucy’s dressing table - Phoenix Wright and Vera Misham.

Phoenix turned at the sound of the door opening. His eyes widened slightly when he saw who it was. “This is becoming a real party now, hey, Truce?” he teased, lightly ruffling his daughter’s hair. Trucy stuck her tongue out at him, then went to carefully place Klavier’s flowers among the dozens of others by her costume rack. Phoenix’s expression tightened somewhat. “Prosecutor Gavin, it’s - it’s good to see you. Trucy swore she spotted you in the audience, but I guess my eyes were never as sharp as hers.”

“I know her party is tomorrow, but I wouldn’t dare pass up the chance to watch her birthday extravaganza,” Klavier said smoothly. He felt as if Vera’s eyes were burning holes in the side of his face.

“So you’re Prosecutor Gavin, huh?” The older Fey woman - Maya, if Klavier remembered correctly - sidled right up to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Trucy and Athena have told me all about you. I hear you’re different from the other prosecutors me and Nick had to deal with back in the day!”

The door opened behind Klavier. “Are you talking about us, Maya Fey?” He turned on his heel to see Edgeworth and Franziska von Karma standing in the doorway, both impeccably dressed as always, carrying identical bouquets of white lilies and blue delphinium in their arms.

“Auntie Franzy!” Trucy shrieked, barreling across the room to toss herself into Franziska’s arms, much like she had done to Klavier just moments ago. “Daddy said you weren’t gonna fly in until tomorrow!”

“And miss your performance? I would be a foolishly foolish fool if I did,” Franziska huffed, kissing Trucy on the cheek. “You will receive the rest of our presents tomorrow. I hear your fool of a father refuses to let you wear makeup despite the fact that you’d like to, and I am here to rectify that parenting mistake. You’re eighteen now, after all; you should be able to do as you please.”

“Within reason,” Edgeworth added, shooting Franziska a withering look. “Don’t encourage her too much, Franziska. I think we're all too familiar with Trucy’s...imagination.”

“Miles Edgeworth, how dare you question my - ”

Klavier quickly retreated into a corner of the dressing room as everyone’s voices grew louder and louder; clearly, his presence had been completely forgotten. He spotted the younger Fey woman, Pearl, conversing with the sad-looking girl - Jinxie, he heard her name was - while Maya and Detective Gumshoe chatted happily with Edgeworth and Franziska. Trucy had left to sign autographs for her fans, leaving Phoenix to turn back to Vera, who was still eyeing Klavier warily.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Klavier startled suddenly at the sound of Athena’s voice. He turned to see her perched on the vanity, legs swinging over the edge, smiling at him encouragingly. “You seem a little lost, Prosecutor Gavin. Everything okay?”

Sighing, Klavier leaned against the wall, glancing down at the toes of his Doc Martens. “Don’t tell me Herr Blackquill asked you to keep an eye on me.”

“Hardly!” Athena exclaimed; she almost seemed offended by his insinuation. “You just seem a little...quiet, that’s all.”

“Well…” Klavier looked back up, shooting her a stilted smile. “Everyone here is either someone I don’t know, someone I work with, or someone whose life I ruined. Forgive me for feeling a little...cornered.”

“C’mon, you didn’t ruin their lives,” Athena said, hopping down so she could lightly punch him in the arm. “I heard the whole story from Apollo ages ago, and he says it wasn’t you. He says you were just a…a schachfigur in someone else’s game.”

“A pawn, in other words.” Klavier chuckled despite himself. “Ja, if you want to be generous about it...or if you want to say that I’m easily swayed. Did Herr Forehead really say that?”

“He sure did! He talks about you all the time,” Athena added with an enthusiastic nod. “I mean, you annoy him - a lot - but he’s always mentioning how decent and honest you are. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think, well...nah, probably not.”

“Probably not,” Klavier echoed, trying his best to ignore his racing heart. The last thing he wanted to do was have hope. “Anyway, I don’t think I’ll be sticking around much longer. Don’t want to get in the way.”

“Huh? You’re not getting in the way of anything!” Athena protested. “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

Klavier shook his head, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up, smoothing out the creases in his hoodie. “Nein, I should make an early night of it. I have to meet my personal trainer bright and early, after all. But I’ll see you at Trucy’s party tomorrow, ja?”

Athena hesitated. “Ja, of course,” she chirped, plastering on an uncertain smile. “And hey, if you ever need a running partner, you have my number!”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Klavier promised, surprising himself by how true that was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone running with someone who wasn’t his personal trainer. “Gute Nacht, fräulein.”

“G’night,” Athena said, squeezing his shoulder before letting him go. Nodding, Klavier deftly weaved his way through the crowded dressing room and slipped out the door. A few heads turned his way, but no one seemed interested in saying their goodbyes, nor was he all that interested in offering his own, either. The moment he stepped into the corridor, he heard a startled gasp, a choked breath, that almost made him jump.

“Ach - my apologies, I didn’t mean to - Trucy?”

Leaning against the wall opposite her dressing room door was Trucy, her eyes wide and suspiciously wet. “Oh - Mr. Gavin, d-don’t tell me you’re leaving already!”

“I have a session with my - are you alright, fräulein?” Klavier asked, closing the door behind him, then approaching her slowly, carefully. “You look…”

“ - like I’ve been crying?” Trucy let out a wet laugh, pulling a tissue out of nowhere and hastily wiping her eyes. “Don’t you cry after a big performance, Mr. Gavin? You know, that rush of adrenaline, that boost of energy, that feeling of relief - it’s all a part of being a performer! Especially on a stage as big as this!”

“Natürlich, I’ve absolutely wept tears of joy after a gut show. But this?” Klavier gestured in her direction. “This...it’s something else, isn’t it?”

“I - it’s just…” Trucy sniffled. “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Klavier said softly. “Though maybe Herr Wright should hear this another time, too.”

“I don’t wanna bother Daddy,” Trucy said, shaking her head. “Besides, I...I don’t wanna make him feel bad!”

“Bad?” Klavier repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”

Trucy took a moment to blow her nose. Then, she managed a small smile in Klavier’s direction. “It’s stupid, but...when I was in there earlier, and I-I saw all of my friends and family together, I started thinking about...you know. The rest of my family. All of the Gramaryes, all gone.” She sniffled noisily again. “Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa, they - th-they never got to see me grow up. And Uncle Valant, he’s still in prison, a-and - so now it’s just me. Just me. I have to carry on the family legacy, but no one’s here to teach me how!”

Klavier’s eyes widened in shock. “Trucy…”

“But if I tell Daddy - Phoenix, I mean - that I’ve been thinking about Mommy and Daddy, he’s gonna...I just can’t,” Trucy continued, shaking her head vehemently. “If he finds out, he’s gonna feel like...like he failed me. And he didn’t, not one bit, but - when I first started living with him, he said he felt like that all the time. Like he was doing it all wrong.” She swallowed, but her throat seemed to be stuck. “And...I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about Apollo, too.”

“You were?” Klavier asked, his mouth twisting. “Why?”

“I know I’ve only known him for a few years, but...it feels like I’ve known him forever. Like we were always meant to be best friends, you know?” Trucy was now fiddling with the ends of her cape, avoiding Klavier’s eyes. “It’s my birthday, a-and he’s not here. He called yesterday to say he wouldn’t be able to talk today, so we had a little celebration together, just the two of us. It was nice, but it just...it wasn’t the same.”

“He’ll come back eventually, ja?” Klavier said gently. “You said that was part of his plan.”

“‘Eventually’ is looking further and further away,” Trucy said with a wry smile. “But I-I know I gotta be okay with it. He’s doing really important stuff in Khura’in, after all!” She then nudged him. “You should call him sometime - he’s talked about some really cool cases that I bet you’d be interested in.”

“I doubt he’d want to hear from me, of all people, especially if he’s as busy as he sounds,” Klavier chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Mr. Gavin,” Trucy teased, elbowing him again. “He only just told me yesterday that he misses you…‘in a weird way’. That’s practically a glowing review, coming from Polly!”

Klavier felt his heartbeat race once more. “Ah, well, then maybe I should consider it. How could I not, when I might get to hear such generous praise myself?” Trucy burst into laughter, her face finally relaxing for the first time since Klavier had approached her.

They lingered in companionable silence for a moment, hearing nothing but their own steadying breaths and the muffled sounds of what seemed like absolute chaos coming from inside Trucy’s dressing room. Klavier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why it sounded like Franziska was lecturing at least three different people at the same time. “Thanks for hearing me out, Mr. Gavin.”

“Bitte schön, though I’m not sure if I was any help at all,” Klavier admitted.

“Of course you were!” Trucy exclaimed, straightening up. “I feel better now, honest. Just talking about all that stuff really helped, even if I’m still not exactly sure what to do.”

“Hopefully you will soon, ja?” Klavier moved away from the wall, flashing her a genuine smile. “But if you ask me, you’re already doing a wunderschön job of upholding the Gramarye name, and I’m sure if you talk to Herr Wright about how you’re feeling, he’d say the same thing. Don’t be so hard on yourself, fräulein.”

Trucy hesitated. Then, she stepped forward to hug Klavier, holding him a little tighter than last time. He automatically held her closer, too. “See you tomorrow?” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“Of course,” Klavier promised. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_____

“How is he doing, that defense attorney of yours?”

Klavier looked up from the box he was packing. He found it almost too easy to get distracted in here, to feel a wave of nostalgia crash over him as he packed away the books and toys that once filled his childhood playroom. There were already paint swatches on the wall, a collection of wood stain samples sitting by his feet, but he wasn’t quite ready to see it transformed into something else, for the room to belong to someone other than him. “He’s not mine, Mama, he’s just a friend. And he’s fine, if a little stressed. Er, make that a lot stressed.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Even just hearing it secondhand, I can tell that boy needs a break.”

“I’ve told him as much,” Klavier said dryly. “We talk most days, you know. He’s just stubborn, won’t listen to anyone - least of all me.”

“If you talk most days, then he must listen to you to some degree, yes?” she pointed out, momentarily crossing the room so she could crack open a window. “How long has he been away now?”

“Almost seven months, I think,” Klavier replied, turning back to what he was doing. “Though we’ve been talking for...around three at this point. If it wasn’t for Trucy, I...I don’t think I would have ever tried. Even now, I feel like I take up too much of his time when he could be going to bed early or doing something more productive.”

“Ah, Klavier.” He looked back up to see his mother had returned to his side; her hand went to the top of his head, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Why is it so hard for you to understand when people care about you, hm? Aside from the screaming fans, I mean.”

“Mama,” Klavier complained, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Achtung, it’s nothing like that. All I’m saying is, we were never close to begin with. I’m sure he’d rather talk to Trucy or get his advice from Herr Wright.”

Frowning, she withdrew her hand from Klavier’s hair. “I don’t know what I would say to that man if I were to ever meet him. Where would I even begin?”

“I...ah…” Klavier busied himself with the collection of picture books he’d been rifling through earlier, smiling faintly at the sight of his name scrawled on the inside covers in barely legible chicken scratch. “...I have that same thought, and I see him all the time. I suppose an apology is in order, but...I don’t know if he would even want to hear it.”

“To think Kris ruined far more lives than just the ones he’d taken,” she whispered, slowly sinking down to sit beside him. “To think he’d taken any lives at all, I - ”

“Mama, bitte - ”

“What did we do, Klavier?” she said forlornly, her voice thick with emotion. “Where did we go wrong? What could we have - ”

“Mama, Mama, breathe,” Klavier murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. “It wasn’t your fault, ja? Not yours, not Papa’s. Just his, and...a little bit of mine.”

“Hardly,” she insisted. She then cupped his face in her hands, looking up at him with watery eyes and a bittersweet smile. “Don’t let anyone blame you for what he did, darling, especially not yourself. Promise?”

“Ich verspreche,” Klavier said obediently, tilting his chin down so she could kiss his forehead. She then released him with a satisfied nod, turning back the box she’d been working on earlier; in doing so, she missed the way Klavier’s face fell. He cleared his throat. “So...a crafting room, ja? What kind of projects did you have in mind?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, humming. “I want to try a few things - cross-stitching, beadwork, paper crafting...we’ll have to see what sticks. If any of them stick.”

“You’re not retired yet, Mama,” Klavier reminded her. “I’m exhausted just listening to you and Papa talk about what you’ve been up to - I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re exhausted? I’m exhausted just listening to what you’ve been up to,” she teased. “You’re not the only prosecutor in the district, baby, so why do you work like you are? Go out, live a little. Or stay in, I suppose, whatever you prefer.”

“I like being busy,” Klavier said defensively. “And I enjoy my work, you know that.”

“I just wish you enjoyed more than just working, that’s all,” she said, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “You know what they say - don’t turn your hobbies into a career. But you went ahead and did that anyway, and now you don’t have any hobbies left!”

“I have plenty of hobbies, danke very much,” Klavier chuckled. “Cooking, working out...and I’m not exactly in the music business anymore, so I’d say that’s back to being a hobby, ja?”

“How about friends?” she suggested. “All I hear about is the people who work for you or the people who work with you.”

“That’s just how it goes,” Klavier said with a rueful grimace. “Making friends as an adult...it’s hard. But I mean it, mir geht's gut. You have nothing to worry about, not with me.”

“I know.” She squeezed his shoulder. “But I’m going to worry, anyway.” She then stood, smoothing out the front of her shirt. “We should probably get going with lunch before your papa gets home, yes? We’ll continue with this later.”

“Ja, Mama, natürlich,” Klavier replied, also getting to his feet. He cast one last lingering glance in the direction of the picture books - for it wasn’t just his messy, childish handwriting inside, but Kristoph’s neat cursive as well - before following her out into the hallway.

_____

Time, Klavier mused to himself every so often, never really made sense to him. He liked being on time, of course, he liked the precision of it, especially when it came to music. He was proud of his natural affinity for rhythm, for keeping time. It was why he excelled at piano and guitar lessons at an early age, why the numerous vocal coaches he’d had in his life found him particularly easy to work with. But it always caught him off-guard whenever things seemed to speed up or slow down or even come to a complete standstill whenever they pleased. Twenty-four years of his life, changed, when he learned about his brother’s true nature. Seven years of his band, gone, when his best friend turned out to be a criminal as well. And now, an entire year that felt like five, all because Apollo wasn’t here.

“You should just ask him out already,” Ema had said to him one evening, over drinks. “I know his name is misleading, but he’s just a person, not a god. What’re you so scared of?”

“I’m not fond of wasps or small spaces,” Klavier had drawled, smirking at Ema’s infuriated scowl as he took a sip of his beer. Still, he knew she had a point. As blunt as Apollo could be, Klavier doubted he would be cruel about turning someone down. It also didn’t help that these days, he was starting to get his hopes up, now that he and Apollo talked on a daily basis. He still wasn’t sure how it had happened, aside from Trucy’s encouragement and his own impulses, but he couldn’t be more thrilled that it had.

“Two more months until I’m out of here...I think,” Apollo amended, yawning, his face filling up Klavier’s entire laptop screen. He looked good, Klavier though, even better than usual - during his time in Khura’in, Apollo had gotten more sun; his skin was a few shades darker, his freckles especially more prominent across the bridge of his nose. His hair was longer, too, mostly in the back, and his wardrobe had slowly evolved into an aesthetically pleasing mix of American street style and Khura’inese casualwear. Apollo had also mentioned a few times that he had built up some muscle, especially in his calves and shoulders, now that he had to walk everywhere and carry his fully-loaded bag wherever he went. Klavier tried not to think about how much he was looking forward to seeing it for himself in person.

“You’re sure now?” Klavier asked. “You’ve said that before.”

“Pretty sure,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Nahyuta even bought me a plane ticket, like he can’t wait for me to leave.”

“I’m sure he’ll miss you all the same,” Klavier replied. “And he’s used to flying back and forth, so I doubt you’ll be apart for long.”

“I think I’m gonna miss him, too,” Apollo admitted, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie. It always gave Klavier a little thrill whenever he saw Apollo wearing it - after all, it was once his, having sent it to Apollo via a care package that Trucy had put together a while ago. Though their upper bodies were comparable in width, Apollo was significantly shorter, which meant the hoodie seemed to completely swallow him up. “It’s weird, looking back on it. How different we were when we were kids - like, both as people and as brothers - and yet...some things never changed. I don’t even know how to explain it, I just...I just know.”

“Something only the two of you can understand, I’m sure,” Klavier said diplomatically. He’d heard many stories about Apollo and Nahyuta’s childhood by now, sometimes accompanied by the occasional mention of Dhurke. Even now, he found it hard to picture; he wasn’t too familiar with Nahyuta, but the thought of him and Apollo chasing each other across mountainous hills or searching for frogs along the riverbanks seemed unlikely, yet it happened all the same. “You have a good relationship with him by now, I take it?”

“Definitely,” Apollo nodded. He then leaned in close to the camera, his voice dropping to an exaggerated whisper. “I’ve even grown on Rayfa, and though she'll never admit it, I think she kinda misses Mr. Wright.”

Klavier laughed. “Charmed her, have you? I’m not surprised. You can be...persuasive when you want to be.”

“You make me sound like a conman,” Apollo snorted, leaning back in his seat. “Give me a little credit, will you?”

“Ja, ja, fair enough,” Klavier said, holding his hands up in surrender. “After all, you did have a client ask you out once. Clearly, you have some natural appeal.”

“It’s happened twice, actually,” Apollo said, shuddering. “I don’t know what I did to make either of ‘em think I was remotely interested, but I shut them down fast.”

“You saved their lives,” Klavier pointed out. “It might be their...misguided way of showing their gratitude. Besides, you’re not half-bad. Some might even say you’re...attractive.”

“And the compliments just keep on rolling in.” Apollo got up from his seat, momentarily blocking the camera as he unplugged his laptop from its charger and carried it over to his bed. He sat cross-legged by his pillows, yawning and stretching luxuriously. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Gavin.”

“If you’re fishing for praise, Forehead, you only have to ask,” Klavier teased. “Let’s see, should we talk about the impressive way that your voice cracks every so often when you shout, which is all the time? What about the fact that you only seem to own one tie in the most outlandish shade of blue I’ve ever seen? Or how, every single time, without fail, you always push on the courthouse entrance doors despite the fact that they’re clearly marked ‘pull’ - ”

“You are such a dick,” Apollo sighed, shaking his head.

“ - you managed to get food poisoning at two different events for the prosecutor’s office,” Klavier continued; if he wasn’t enjoying himself earlier, he certainly was now. “Ah, remember that time you ripped your pants at a crime scene? Good thing it was a thrift store, ja? But if you ask me, corduroy bell bottoms don’t quite suit you. You don’t have the height for flared hems.”

“...I think you’ve gone just a little off-track here,” Apollo drawled. “Take it back now, Gavin, you were s’posed to be saying nice stuff, remember? Like, tell me I’m good at my job or something.”

“You make the perfekt lawyer,” Klavier said in the most serious tone he could muster, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing. “After all, you just love to pick a fight.”

“Don’t think I won’t hang up on you,” Apollo said, yawning again as he half-flopped over onto his side, pillowing his hands beneath his cheek. For what felt like the thousandth time, Klavier found himself wishing he was in Khura’in, too.

“You say that every time, and you’ve never followed through,” Klavier reminded him. “Fine, you want a real compliment, Forehead?”

“That’s what I was asking for,” Apollo mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled.

“I think…” Klavier hesitated. “I think you might be one of my favorite people in the whole world.”

Apollo’s eyes flew open. “Huh? You...y-you really think so?”

“Would I be talking to you all the time if you weren’t?” Klavier chuckled. “How much free time do you think I have on my hands, hm?”

“Yeah, but - b-but still,” Apollo protested weakly. Klavier delighted in the way Apollo’s cheeks reddened, the way his nose scrunched up, the way his brows furrowed in an attempt to look irritated instead of embarrassed. “We only really became friends, like, uh...eight-ish months ago, so…”

“So nichts,” Klavier said derisively. “I say what I mean and I mean what I say, ja?”

Apollo shot him a drowsy smile. “Thanks, Gavin. It’s...actually kinda flattering.” He yawned yet again, curling up on top of his pillows. “Hey, I just remembered - you had your evaluation with Mr. Edgeworth just now, right? How’d that go, did you get three gold stars and an extra cookie to go with your juicebox like you wanted?”

“Call the prosecutor’s office a preschool just one time, all because Herr Debeste decided to bring Ritz crackers to the office potluck, and now you can’t let it go...and move on,” Klavier added, smirking; Apollo lifted a hand to flip him off. “It’s the usual with Herr Edgeworth, really - ‘excellent work, Prosecutor Gavin, nothing new to report’. Whenever I ask him if there’s anything more I can do, any way in which I can improve...I get nothing. It’s like he wants me out of his office as soon as possible.”

“I doubt it,” Apollo said quietly. “I know you keep saying over and over again that he blames you for what happened to Mr. Wright - but he doesn’t. Even if he did at one point, no one does anymore, alright? We know what happened, we know who it was, a-and it wasn’t you.” He propped himself up on his elbow, looking Klavier right in the eye. “Mr. Edgeworth doesn’t have suggestions for you ‘cos...you’re good at what you do. Somehow, you, Mister Euro-Rocker, are the most normal person at the prosecutor’s office. All anyone can accuse you of is, like, self-promotion, grandstanding, and wall slamming. Why do you do that, anyway?”

“I had a kickboxing phase,” Klavier said, laughing wetly. “That was surprisingly touching, Forehead, danke. Don’t we all aspire to be ‘the most normal person’ in any situation, achtung.”

“So you’re saying in some alternate universe, you would leg slam the prosecutor’s bench instead?” Apollo said dryly. “What would that even look like?”

“Gott if I know,” Klavier replied, continuing to laugh. “Anyway, should I let you go now? You look like you’re going to fall asleep at any second.”

“I’m fine.” Apollo slumped back down against his pillows, then let out an exaggerated exhale. “Though I wouldn’t, uh. I wouldn’t complain if you sang me to sleep, either.”

Klavier straightened up in his seat, surprised. “Again? I didn’t think you actually meant it last time, until it worked.”

“Your voice is, y’know...decent,” Apollo said, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “I have to listen to it for, like, two hours a day, after all. Going on and on about ‘ah, Herr Forehead, my bike didn’t start again’, or ‘I got a free drink at the courthouse café because the cute barista recognized me, can you believe it’ - oh, and we can’t forget the classic ‘you wouldn’t believe how terrible my hair looks today, I don’t know if I should turn my camera on’ - ”

“I take offense to that last one,” Klavier protested. “You’ve done the exact same thing to me! Remember when there was a thunderstorm - ”

“A Khura’inese thunderstorm, one of the worst the country’s ever seen, versus you having a, quote-unquote, ‘bad hair day’ ‘cos you woke up on the wrong side of the silk pillowcase. Very comparable,” Apollo drawled. “Go on, then, Gavin, give me a lullaby.”

Klavier steeled himself, taking a deep breath. Then, in the throatiest, most operatic voice he could muster, he began to sing. “Guten abend, gut nacht, mit rosen bedacht - ”

“Screw off, you - ” Apollo was doubled over, clutching at his stomach; the sound of his laugh, as cliché as it was, was music to Klavier’s ears. “Shit, I-I can’t even be mad at that one, that was on me. Okay, let’s not do a lullaby, just give me, like...something slow.”

Klavier hummed thoughtfully as he watched Apollo settle back down, drawing his duvet up over his shoulders. “Moon river, wider than a mile, I'm crossing you in style someday...dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way…” It didn’t take long for Apollo to fall asleep, his breath slowly evening out as he did. He looked peaceful in a way that he never did when he was awake. Smiling to himself, Klavier went to end the call. “Gute Nacht, liebe.”

_____

“For the love of everything, can you please stop bouncing your leg like that?”

“Ah - ” Klavier clamped his hand down onto his thigh, offering her a nervous smile. “My apologies, fräulein, I didn’t realize it was so cold in here. Does Herr Wright have a habit of leaving the air conditioning on? I didn’t think this office even had air conditioning, to be honest.”

Ema side-eyed him derisively; the effect was slightly ruined by the huge bouquet of roses she had sitting in her lap. They were practically tickling her chin. “...cold, right. That’s what’s going on, not the fact that we’re here to surprise Apollo on his way back from the airport.”

Klavier was very tempted to glare back. He liked to think he was an amiable person, but Ema challenged that notion every time they spoke. “Why did you decide to return early, anyway? Was Herr Sahdmadhi getting on your nerves?”

“Oh, please,” Ema snorted. “Sorry, Gavin, you’re still the problem child of the prosecutor’s office to me. No, I left early ‘cos...well, because I could. Besides, I missed this one over here.” She lightly elbowed the person on her other side, who giggled sweetly in response.

“Long-distance suuucks,” Kay agreed, dropping her head onto Ema’s shoulder and shooting her an affectionate grin. “Now that Em’s back for good, we can finally look into getting a place together!”

“Have you started yet?” Klavier asked, curious. “Because my area has a few - ”

“Um, I-I think a taxi just pulled up outside!” Klavier turned to squint through the darkness in the direction of the front window, where Juniper, Vera, and the Fey women were hidden, lifting their heads every so often to peek through the blinds. Thankfully, Vera seemed less nervous around him these days; he hated the thought of making her uncomfortable, especially when there was nothing he could do about it but wait. He’d tried approaching her on the rare occasions they were in the same room together, but more often than not, they both ended up tongue-tied. “I see Thena, and Apollo, and Trucy...oh, there’s Mr. Wright! I think Trucy made him tip the driver extra, heh.”

Klavier’s heart seemed to be in his throat as he, Ema, and Kay crouched down behind Apollo’s desk, while the others went to duck behind Phoenix’s and Athena’s desks as well. It had been so long, so long that he’d nearly forgotten some of the little things that just didn’t quite translate via phone call or video chat - how tall Apollo really was, how loud he could truly be; the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed, or how he absent-mindedly played with his bracelet more often than Klavier suspected he realized himself. He had to stop himself from letting out a hysterical laugh when he remembered how, the last time he saw Apollo in person, he’d flipped Klavier off. How appropriate, Klavier thought somewhat dazedly, shaking his head. And now -

“...huh, so I really did leave my jacket here. Guess it doesn’t matter since I never wore it, anyway. I’m more of a suit vest kinda guy, you know? So, what are we - ” The light flickered on. All at once, the agency seemed to explode with noise as everyone jumped out from behind the desks.

“SURPRISE!” Several party poppers, courtesy of Maya and Kay, went off simultaneously, which only added to the chaos.

“ - argh - what the - ?!”

“Wh-whoa, Polly, watch your head! You almost knocked over Mr. Charley!”

“Forget Charley, I-I almost twisted my ankle just now, shit - ” Apollo managed to find his footing again, half-leaning against the back of the couch to keep himself propped up while he caught his breath, his hand clasped over his presumably racing heart. Klavier could only stare at him, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging open. Ema was side-eyeing him again, but by now, he really didn’t care.

Of course, Klavier had known for a few weeks now that today was the day, but to see Apollo standing - well, somewhat collapsing - in front of him was something else entirely. Clearly, Apollo’s laptop webcam and spotty internet connection hadn’t done him justice, not the healthy glow of his skin, nor the shine of his hair. He was wearing a Khura’inese tunic and joggers with both the sleeves and pant hems rolled up, revealing just how muscular he’d become. However, what intrigued Klavier most of all was the familiar-looking hoodie in Apollo’s arms.

“Hey, stranger,” Ema said, lightly punching Apollo in the shoulder, then unceremoniously shoving the bouquet of roses into his arms despite the fact he was still holding the handle of his rolling luggage bag. He nearly dropped it on his own foot in an attempt to grab the flowers in time. “It’s weird, right? I’m still getting used to, like, mega-grocery stores and smog all over again.”

“Considering I’ve only been inside an airport, a taxi, and the agency so far, I can’t say I’ve had time to adjust, no,” Apollo said dryly. He then frowned. “Er, Ms. Fey, a-are you filming all this?”

Maya grinned almost manically over the top of her phone. “Yup! Blame Trucy and Athena - they wanted to get your reaction on camera, and ooh, you did not disappoint.”

Apollo deflated even further. “...glad I could entertain you all.” He then straightened up, approaching Juniper and Vera first to chat with them amicably while the others fell back to talk amongst themselves. Trucy sidled up next to Klavier with the brightest grin she’d had in months.

“I still can’t believe he’s finally here,” Trucy admitted. “It was starting to feel like he was never coming back, you know?”

“He looks...surprisingly refreshed for someone who’s been sitting on a plane for Gott knows how long,” Klavier chuckled, smoothing out the creases in the front of his shirt. He then shot Trucy a soft smile. “You must be thrilled.”

“Ecstatic!” Trucy chirped, nodding enthusiastically. “There are some tricks Athena just refuses to help with, but I bet Apollo wouldn’t mind if I volunteered him for the job!”

“That’s not the only reason you missed him and you know it,” Klavier said gently.

Trucy’s cheeks reddened; she shot him a sheepish smile. “...I-I may have cried at the airport. It was a total mess, ‘cos me and Athena were crying, and then Apollo started crying, and there was tears and snot everywhere, a-and Daddy got it all on tape, too. He said it was like we were trying to set the record for world’s longest hug!”

“That’s very sweet, fräulein,” Klavier murmured. “I’m sure it was quite the scene.”

“What was quite the scene?” They startled at the sound of a new voice, turning to see Apollo standing before them. The first thing Klavier couldn’t help but think, stupidly enough, was that Apollo looked taller somehow - he seemed to be holding his head higher, his chest prouder, though it also helped that he was wearing a heavy pair of brown leather boots with a thick sole. Klavier’s heart thumped pathetically in his chest at the sight of Apollo’s warm, curious eyes, now fixed on his face in confusion.

“Your reunion, or so I hear,” Klavier said smoothly, taking a few steps closer. His eyes flickered down to Apollo’s arms, half-folded in front of his torso; he was still holding onto the hoodie. “And I see I’ve done a good job of keeping you warm while you were away, Herr Forehead.” He sensed Trucy, Ema, and Kay exchanging bewildered glances behind him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I got some pretty nice handmade blankets in Khura’in,” Apollo chuckled, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his unstyled hair. Klavier was more used to seeing it without gel than with it at this point, given how most of their video calls had taken place during Apollo’s evenings. “But, uh...thanks. You sure you don’t want it back?”

“Ah, nein, it’s all yours now,” Klavier replied. “But if you’re in need of more clothes that aren’t from the children’s section, I’d be more than happy to provide.”

Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “You’re such a dick.” Then, to just about everyone’s surprise, he took the last few steps to close the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Klavier, burying his face against Klavier’s shoulder with a contented sigh. “...it’s good to see you, Gavin.”

Klavier stood still for a moment, stunned, before returning the hug, holding him tighter than either of them expected, resting his chin on top of Apollo’s head. He smelled faintly of fruit and dirt and sweat, though Klavier didn’t mind one bit. “Ich habe dich vermisst,” he mumbled into Apollo’s hair, letting out a relieved exhale. “I’m glad you’re back.”

A little over an hour later, their rather large group of people - made even larger with the addition of Edgeworth and Simon, who had been held up in a work incident that, from the sound of it, was entirely Payne’s fault - found themselves at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant, arguing over whether to order more salmon or more unagi while they drank beer, or in Trucy and Pearl’s case, soda. Their table was crowded, to be sure, and it was definitely the loudest in the entire restaurant, but with Edgeworth footing the bill, insisting no expense be spared, their servers didn’t seem to mind too much.

“God, you’re obvious.” Klavier turned to see Ema pointing her chopsticks at him rather threateningly. “Y’know, if you wanted to sit with Apollo, you should’ve just said so instead of sitting here and staring at him like a pining Austen heroine.”

“You really should be careful with those,” Klavier commented, gently pushing her hand away. “And it’s fine, he obviously wants to sit with Trucy and Athena. We have time to chat later, ja?”

Sighing, Ema turned back to her plate, stuffing a piece of tamago into her mouth in the most irritated manner Klavier had ever seen someone eat. “I don’t even know why I’m bothering,” she said, taking a generous gulp of her beer. “Look, Gavin, I - you know I was there, on the other end of things. I saw how...how happy he looked after your phone calls, whenever you sent him a text...all I’m saying is, sitting around and doing nothing like you did before? You really think that’s gonna work?”

“The last thing he needs is for me to bother him while he’s still settling in,” Klavier said diplomatically. “Like I said, we’ll have time to talk...later. Let him breathe, bitte. He literally just got here.”

Ema’s mouth twisted. “I really don’t get you sometimes.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to Klavier now. “Like, I’m trying to imagine some world in which I don’t tell Kay how I feel about her, and...I can’t do it. It’s physically, emotionally, scientifically impossible. My entire life would be different, you know?”

“With you and Kay, you knew the feeling was mutual from the start, ja?” Klavier glanced across the table, where Apollo was cracking up over some joke Athena had just told. “As for me...I still can’t be sure. Even with what you just said, it’s no guarantee. And I think, for the time being, we’re...we’re glücklich this way. We’re friends. Close friends, even.”

“He talked to you more than everyone else combined,” Ema reminded him. “I only managed to talk to Kay maybe twice a week if we were lucky.” Kay leaned around Ema to nod affirmatively in Klavier’s direction, a stray udon noodle hanging from her mouth. “But whatever, I’m really only telling you for Apollo’s sake. If this was just about you, I guarantee I wouldn’t care.”

“Sure, fräulein, whatever you say,” Klavier chuckled. “So, you were saying something earlier about apartments - ”

“Hey, Gavin.” Once again, Klavier nearly gave himself whiplash at the sound of Apollo’s voice; he wasn’t sure when Apollo had gotten out of his seat and come to their side of the table, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. “Sorry to interrupt, it’s just - can I talk to you for a sec? Outside, maybe?”

“Er - ja, sure.” Klavier shot Ema an apologetic smile, though she’d already gone back to stealing pieces of ginger off of Kay’s plate. He then followed Apollo through the restaurant and out the front door, the two of them coming to a stop on the sidewalk. “What’s this all about, then?”

“Nothing, I just - I needed some air,” Apollo admitted, taking a generous deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong, I-I’m glad to see everyone again, but it’s a little...crowded back there. And loud.”

“Very true,” Klavier agreed, leaning against the exterior wall. “So...I’m surprised you’re still standing. Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Ridiculously so,” Apollo chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll crash in like, a few hours. Mr. Wright’s couch could be a literal rock, and I’ll still be out cold for the next...I dunno, week? Month?”

“You mentioned something about getting an apartment in your old building, ja?” Klavier mused. “When’s that happening?”

“I move in next week...if I’m awake by then, that is,” Apollo added dryly. He then smirked. “You offering to help, Gavin?”

Klavier leaned in close, his own teasing smile playing on his lips. “If you want me, just let me know, Herr Forehead.” He couldn’t help but feel a little thrill go through him when Apollo’s pupils darkened considerably in response.

“I’ll, uh...I’ll keep that in mind,” Apollo replied, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. Klavier found himself momentarily distracted by the motion. “Hey, uh - what were you and Ema talking about before I cut in?”

Klavier paused for a little longer than he would've liked. “I...was asking her about her plans to find a new place with Kay. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s only happening now. They’ve been together for years, after all.”

“True, but...if it works for them, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “Did you guys ever get around to playing laser tag?”

Klavier blinked. “Entschuldigung?”

“Before we left, remember?” Apollo said, biting back a laugh. “Ema told me to ask you if you wanted to do drinks or laser tag, so did you and Kay...y’know, hang out without us? Or have you been waiting for us to get back?”

“Ah, that,” Klavier said, laughing as well. “Nein, we never did get around to it, though we’ve had the occasional drink together. Remember that story I told you a few months ago, the one where she - ”

“ - where she got kicked out of the bar ‘cos she accidentally gave them a fake ID she’d been holding onto as evidence, yeah,” Apollo snorted, shaking his head. “Sounds like something that could literally happen to any of us.” He straightened up, taking a couple of steps back so he could clear his throat. “Anyway, we should hang out after I recover from my inevitable jetlag. Like, the four of us, I mean.”

“Er - right, ja, the four of us,” Klavier nodded, faltering slightly. Apollo looked at him questioningly but didn’t say anything, instead turning his gaze towards the street for a moment, watching the cars and the occasional motorcycle go by. Klavier supposed he was still getting used to all the noise again, or rather, the different kinds of noise. He’d heard the evening sounds of Khura’in through the phone many times, especially when Apollo went for a late-night walk and “brought” Klavier with him for company. It had been relatively peaceful, serene, in a way that California was decidedly not. “Apollo, I...do you want to…maybe we could...”

“Yeah?” Apollo looked up at him, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Klavier coughed. “...never mind. Maybe another time, when you’re not so tired, ja?”

“Oh.” Apollo frowned slightly. “Uh, sure.” He then brightened, gently nudging Klavier’s arm. “Hey, but maybe we can make a thing out of my move-in day, make it a casual housewarming hangout or whatever. You interested?”

“Always,” Klavier said softly, nudging him back. Grinning, Apollo wordlessly beckoned for Klavier to follow him back inside, back to their table. He didn’t need to glance in Ema’s direction to know she looked as disappointed in him as he felt.

_____

“Ach, Klavier. You’re pouting more than your cousin Ingrid, and she’s barely seven years old.”

Klavier looked up from his glass to shoot his father an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Papa. It’s just - the timing is unfortunate, you know? Er, not that I don’t want to be here. Anja and her new bride look wunderschön, and it’s been so long since we’ve had a wedding in the family - ”

“Now you sound like your Uncle Oskar,” his father chuckled, clapping Klavier good-naturedly on the shoulder. The two of them were standing in what looked and felt like a fairytale, in a sea of blossoming flowers and sparkling lights on a beautiful, crisp Saturday morning. In the distance, Klavier could see his cousin - or was she a second cousin, or a cousin once removed, he could never remember - and her wife posing for their wedding photographer by the park gazebo, while everyone else not-so-patiently waited to be called over for group photographs. All of the younger ones were especially moody, especially the aforementioned Ingrid, who had fallen and scraped her knee mere minutes before the ceremony. The poor girl had refused to let anyone put a bandaid on her, electing to sulk in silent solitude on a park bench instead. “I know you wanted to be with your friends today, but...there will be other days, yes?”

“Ja, ja, ich weiß,” Klavier replied. “Today is Apollo’s little housewarming get-together, it would've been nice to be there. But still, I wouldn’t miss Anja’s wedding for the world.” He then swallowed, glancing down at his feet. “That is, that’s how I felt before we got here. But achtung, now I feel like a caged animal. After all this time, do they really think - ”

“Not one person here thinks you’re going the same way,” his father interjected sharply, his eyes fierce behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You’re not him. You’re not. But their stares...unfortunately, I don’t think it can be helped.”

“The questions were so simple before,” Klavier muttered. “Remember when I came back for a couple of weeks, between legs of the Gavinners’ European tour, for cousin Leo’s wedding? All anyone wanted to know was - ‘ah, Klavier, how is your band doing? Are you still a prosecutor? When are you getting married?’. And now it’s - it’s ‘what’s going to happen to him now?’ and ‘what exactly is this dark age of the law everyone’s been talking about?’ and ‘did you know the whole time?’. It’s endless, ach.”

“Klavier - ”

“I didn’t ask for my life to revolve around his, okay?” Klavier managed to stop himself before he could shout; instead, his voice came out as a harsh whisper. Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice, carrying on with their conversations while they waited for the newlyweds to call on them. “So if people are going to continue to talk, to stare, then I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. If I can’t have a normal conversation with my family members that aren’t you or Mama, then…” He shook his head; his hand was trembling, his champagne sloshing over the edge of his flute.

Sighing, his father squeezed Klavier’s shoulder a little firmer now. “...I can tell them you have a migraine if you’d like. Or how about a stomach bug? Though maybe a work emergency would sound a little more...dignified.”

Klavier let out a watery chuckle, clasping his hand over his father’s. “Danke, Papa, I appreciate it, but it’s fine. This is Anja’s day, not a day for me to whine and fuss. I can grin and bear it for her, ich verspreche. And I apologize for my...outburst.” His father shot him a sympathetic smile, then turned back to watch the happy couple while they waited for Klavier’s mother to return from the bathroom.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time Klavier collapsed face-first onto his bed, only to sit up in a panic for a moment, thinking he’d just smeared a full face of makeup onto his freshly-washed silk pillowcases, before remembering he’d managed to trudge his way through his skincare routine just moments ago. With a weary groan, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text message; mere seconds later, his phone began to ring.

“Forehead? I didn’t actually expect you to be up.”

“Mik’s being a literal scaredy-cat about living in a new place, so I’m probably not gonna be able to sleep anytime soon,” Apollo said with a weary sigh. “So, how was the rest of the wedding? All the photos you sent looked incredible!”

“What can I say? Gavins have good taste,” Klavier replied, chuckling. He rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling. “It was...perfekt, the epitome of classic fairytale romance, really. The kind of wedding you see in children’s books, you know?”

“Sure.” Apollo’s voice was warm in Klavier’s ear. “Hey - you, uh, you okay? You sound...off.”

“Ja, ja, I’m just tired,” Klavier said, frowning slightly at his outstretched hand. Despite getting them done yesterday, his nails were already starting to chip. “How long did everyone end up staying for?”

“They left a little before midnight,” Apollo replied, yawning. “Trucy has a matinee show tomorrow - or today, I guess - or else she probably would’ve insisted on sleeping over. Would’ve been kinda nice, actually, i-it’s always a little weird being alone in a new place for the first time. Though I guess this makes up for it.”

“What makes up for it?” Klavier asked, confused.

Apollo snorted. “This phone call, you dork. It’s like last year all over again, except we’re finally in the same time zone now.”

“Ah - right,” Klavier said, letting out an awkward laugh. “Ja, this is nice, though...I assume we’re not making this a habit again, are we?”

“Nah, definitely not. But, y’know, every now and then for old time’s sake? I wouldn’t, uh, I wouldn’t mind it.” Klavier shivered. Apollo’s voice had dropped to a low murmur; it almost sounded as if he were in the room with him. Klavier remembered Apollo making a snarky comment or two whenever he caught a glimpse of Klavier’s apartment during their video calls, leaving him to wonder whether Apollo would ever want to see it for himself. “So, you wanna do something next week? I’m still on co-counsel duty until I’m ready to take my own cases again, so my schedule’s not too hectic.”

“What did you have in mind?” Klavier hummed.

“I’m up for whatever - er, within reason,” Apollo added. “It could, well. It could even be just you and me, if you want.”

Klavier’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. “...I think I’d like that, ja. Drinks, maybe? Friday?”

“Yeah, uh - ” Apollo cleared his throat. “ - yeah, sounds good. Text me the time and place whenever, okay? Though I guess we’re probably gonna see each other before then, so.”

“Definitely,” Klavier said quietly, sucking in a breath to stop himself from making a potentially embarrassing noise - a squeak of joy, maybe, or a nervous laugh; either one would be terrible. “Should I let you go, then? We didn’t usually talk this late, even when you were on the other side of the world.”

“Very true,” Apollo said, punctuating Klavier’s point by yawning again. “I think Mik’s finally settled down, anyway.” Then, he seemed to hesitate. “...you sure you’re good, Gavin?”

“Mir geht's gut,” Klavier promised. This time, it felt more like the truth. Though his quiet anger from earlier hadn’t quite dissipated, he was calmer now, more at ease. “Family events just take a lot out of me, that’s all. Inevitable, given how big my extended family is.”

Apollo fell silent for a moment. “Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I, uh...I wouldn’t know.”

“I think it depends on the family,” Klavier admitted. This time, both of them went quiet, contemplating Klavier’s sentiment. “...anyway, let’s not carry on and ruin our sleep schedules, ja? Gute Nacht, Forehead.”

“G’night, Gavin,” Apollo said softly. “Talk to you tomorrow.” Despite the usual raspy quality of Apollo’s voice, not to mention how sharp it could get, Klavier found it immensely comforting at times, its warmth like a thick blanket - or, more accurately, an oversized hoodie. Mere minutes after they hung up, Klavier drifted off into a deep, restful sleep.

_____

Friday, it seemed, was not meant to be. Much to Klavier’s quiet disappointment - though obviously, he understood, given the circumstances - Apollo had to cancel their plans after getting some truly life-changing news.

“I-I don’t even know where to begin,” Apollo had stammered on the phone, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. “I - she’s my - a-and her eyes - sh-she came to see us, me a-and - ”

“Slow down, Apollo, slow down,” Klavier had said gently. “What’s going on? What happened?”

Apollo had taken a big, shuddering inhale. Then, he spoke again. “...Trucy is my little sister...a-and Lamiroir is...she’s...she’s...she’s Thalassa Gramarye. Our mother.”

The news traveled quickly throughout their social circle; naturally, it was Trucy who told everyone else, while Apollo still seemed to be reeling in shock. No one seemed to know what to say, not with everything they knew about the twists and turns and tragedies of their respective family histories. A week passed, then another, and another, as the two Gramarye siblings took some time off to reunite with their mother. Klavier dropped by the Wright Anything Agency every so often, hoping to see how they were doing, only to find just Phoenix and Athena there.

“Apollo almost punched me...again,” Phoenix had said quietly. If it wasn't for the seriousness of his expression, Klavier would've asked about the first time. “It’s because I knew. I knew a long time ago. And Trucy, she can’t seem to decide whether she’s upset with me or not. Can’t say I blame her, though Thalassa and I had our reasons.”

“I’m sure you did, Herr Wright,” Klavier had replied sincerely, though he didn’t push further. After all, it wasn’t his family drama this time, and as far as he was concerned, knowing what their reasons were wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Phoenix had then paused. “She told me she talked to you, by the way. Trucy, that is.” He let out a hollow laugh. “Even when she didn’t know, it was like...like she already knew. But I shouldn’t be surprised, not with her. Never with her.” Clearing his throat, he shot Klavier a gentle, genuine smile. “Thanks for being there for her, Prosecutor Gavin. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Klavier had promised. “Herr Wright, before I go, I really should say something - ”

“If you’re about to do what I think you’re about to do...there’s no need,” Phoenix had interrupted, though not unkindly. “I’ve said it a few times, but I’ll say it again. Let’s put the past behind us, alright?”

Klavier had been taken aback. “...if you’re sure, then...ja, I hear you.”

Almost four weeks after Thalassa returned to her children’s lives, Klavier finally saw Apollo again, during a brief one-day trial. Once Apollo got his client acquitted, the two of them took a moment to sit on the courthouse steps together in stilted silence. “How is she?” Klavier asked. “How are you?”

“She’s…” Apollo sucked his breath in between his teeth. “...she’s still figuring things out. Remembering stuff. Trying to, uh...trying to learn how to be a mom to two adult children who...who grew up without her. And I dunno if it’s harder for me, o-or for Trucy, because I accepted my whole life that...that my mom just wasn’t around. But Trucy lost her. She knew her, loved her, lost her...and now she’s back. Not that it’s a competition, it’s just…” He managed to give Klavier a small smile. “We’ll be fine. It’s just weird and confusing a-and...but we’re fine. Sorry I’ve been so - ”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Klavier said, gently nudging him. “So, are you going to see her again today?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna drop by for dinner tonight,” Apollo replied. “We’ll hang out again soon, I swear.”

“Don’t worry about me, Forehead. Take care of yourself first, ja?” Klavier chuckled, patting Apollo’s knee. “Anyway, I should get going before the paparazzi catch wind of me. Auf Wiedersehen, baby. Have a good time tonight.” As he was leaving, he took a moment to watch Apollo walk over to the courthouse bike rack to join Trucy, who was patiently waiting for him. The moment she spotted him, she flung her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, as if they’d been apart for years and not mere minutes.

The days continued to go by without them seeing much of each other, though they did continue to text on a regular basis, even having the occasional late-night phone call or two. Klavier also managed to chat with Trucy when he dropped by the agency one afternoon in the hopes that she would be there.

“I’m okay,” Trucy had told him. “We’re still getting used to it, but it’s definitely one of the best surprises I’ve ever had! I’ve been saying this whole time that Polly’s like a little big brother to me, and now…”

“And now it’s true,” Klavier had remarked, laughing. “I’m happy for all of you, fräulein, truly. And thinking back...what a strange family reunion. All because I invited her to perform with the Gavinners. Er, not to make this about me, of course.”

“Of course,” Trucy had echoed, giggling as well. “You would never do that.”

Klavier had rolled his eyes good-naturedly, which only served to make her laugh even harder. His expression then sobered. “Have you told either of them about...what you told me and Herr Wright?”

“Huh?...o-oh. That.” Trucy had fiddled with the ends of her cape, eyes fixated on the toes of her boots. “No, n-not yet. It’s too early. We only just discovered the truth, why would I ruin that with my silly problems?”

“They’re not silly at all,” Klavier had reassured her. “They’re...I know a little something about family legacy. Carrying a name that belongs to someone else. Talk to them about it when the time is right, ja?”

“I know, I know,” Trucy had mumbled, her voice small. She then perked up, plastering on a false smile that Klavier was all too familiar with. “You should join us someday, Prosecutor Gavin! I’m sure she’d like to see you again, and Polly’s been dying to spend more time with you.”

Klavier felt warm. “Really? Did he say that?”

“Well, not in so many words,” Trucy had said sheepishly. “But we’ve been so busy with Mom lately that neither of us has really had time to hang out with people other than Daddy and Athena, y’know? So...maybe we could do another group dinner or something.”

And so, a little over a month and a half after their canceled plans, Trucy managed to get a smaller group of people together - her, Apollo, Athena, Klavier, Simon, Pearl, Juniper, Ema, and Kay, to be exact - for a rather chaotic visit to their nearest night market. Considering how narrow the pathways were, how packed the food stalls could be, it was hard for them to move as a collective through the crowds.

“We might have an easier time if we split up,” Apollo suggested. “And, uh, as a bonus, people would stop glaring at us for holding up literally every line.” And so, everyone divided themselves into pairs - or a trio, in Athena, Simon, and Juniper’s case - and went on their way.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Trucy?” Klavier asked once he and Apollo were in line for freshly-made takoyaki.

“Listen, and I say this with love, but I’ve been looking forward to hanging out with someone who isn’t Trucy for once,” Apollo said, chuckling. “Besides, we never got around to getting drinks. So let me pay for, like, a milk tea or something.”

“That’s hardly necessary, but danke,” Klavier said, smiling easily. “So, has it finally sunk in yet? Your newfound big brother status, that is.”

“Thankfully, not that kind of big brother,” Apollo said dryly. “Honestly, it hasn’t been that different. Me and Trucy have always looked out for each other, and...I dunno. We got attached pretty quickly, almost like we, uh...like we knew somehow. Like everything about our relationship made even more sense than before.” He then let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Never mind, that probably sounds really stupid - ”

“Nein, not at all,” Klavier murmured sympathetically.

“I don’t believe in fate or whatever, but...I couldn’t ask for a better sister,” Apollo admitted, his expression softening. “Though to be fair, I can ask said sister to stop dragging me on stage with her. I almost lost my eyebrows more than once, and once is already one time too many!”

“You did say better, not perfect,” Klavier teased, laughing. “So, what do you want to do tonight? Are we just stuffing our faces, or did you want to walk around? That bouncy castle looks sehr interessant.”

“Yeah, sure, if we wanna get kicked out,” Apollo snorted. “And I’m not sure yet, I was just gonna go with whatever everyone else wanted. When I used to come here all the time with...with…” His face fell. “Um. You know. He was so eager to try everything, I-I just let him drag me around. Literally.” Klavier looked away for a moment, unsure of what to say. Apollo then tugged on his sleeve so he would turn back, a small smile on his face. “Hey, c’mon. I’m the one who made it weird, don’t you make it weird, too.”

Klavier chuckled, placing his hand over Apollo’s and squeezing. “Why don’t you lead for a change? I mean it, Forehead, what do you want to do tonight?”

“Honestly? I just wanna eat and drink and laugh at the terrible knock-off merchandise with, uh. With you.” Apollo awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Before Klavier could respond, they’d reached the front of the line; Apollo turned to the merchant with a polite smile. “Hi, can we get one order of takoyaki, please? And can we get the sauces on the side?”

“Sure, that’ll be seven dollars,” the merchant replied. “Is this just for you, or are you sharing with your boyfriend?”

Apollo blinked. “Er, s-sorry?”

“I need to know how many toothpicks to give you,” the merchant said, shooting Apollo a strange look.

“I, uh…” Apollo cleared his throat. Klavier looked at him curiously, unsure if Apollo’s reaction was promising or worrying. “Yeah, we’re sharing.”

Once they received their order, they went to stand a little ways away from the crowd to eat and people-watch in companionable silence. Klavier stole the occasional glance in Apollo’s direction every so often, admiring how good he looked in a bucket hat, denim cutoffs, and of course, the hoodie he’d given him. Other than his signature red suit vest, it seemed to be the item of clothing he wore the most these days. Klavier wondered if it still smelled of his cologne, the cologne that Apollo claimed to hate.

“Gavin?” Apollo raised an eyebrow at him. “Can I, um...can I help you?”

“Ah - entschuldigung, I didn’t mean to stare,” Klavier said, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It just surprises me whenever you wear that, you know? Surely, you have other hoodies.”

“I’ve just gotten used to it, I guess,” Apollo shrugged. “And it’s weird, ‘cos it’s yours, but now I mostly associate it with Khura’in. Like, whenever I went for walks before or after work, this was usually the first thing I grabbed, even when it was too warm for me to wear. Something to hold onto, I s’pose.” His eyes suddenly lit up. “Hey - new idea!”

Klavier chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm. “Oh? What’s that?”

“Over there,” Apollo said, gesturing towards the river running alongside the night market. Other market patrons were there as well, eating, talking, and admiring the city skyline. “It’s definitely no Khura’inese scenery, but we could also grab some food and go for a walk, get away from the main crowd and all that.”

“I’d like that,” Klavier replied, popping the last piece of takoyaki into his mouth. “What should we get next, then?”

After much deliberation, the two of them settled on milk tea and crepes, then began walking alongside the river, chatting amicably about nothing in particular while occasionally spotting their friends in the distance. They saw Trucy and Pearl sharing a giant bowl of shaved ice, Ema and Kay marveling at all of the bags for sale - Ema had once mentioned she needed a new one to fit her entire forensics kit - while Athena and Simon were, for some reason, arm-wrestling. Juniper was supervising them with a hint of apprehension in her eyes; Athena appeared to be winning.

As they passed by people going in the opposite direction, Klavier lowered the brim of his cap over his eyes. He felt somewhat nervous, even paranoid, every single time someone looked at him for a little too long. “Not too interested in signing autographs or taking selfies, huh?” Apollo teased when it happened for the fifth time in under twenty minutes. “Nah, I get it. I’m sure it gets pretty exhausting after a while.”

“It’s...it’s not fans I’m worried about,” Klavier confessed, ducking his head once more. “It’s...the opposite, really.”

“Huh?” Apollo’s eyes then widened. “Oh, you mean...o-oh. Has that been happening a lot lately, or…?”

“Just...more than it should,” Klavier said quietly, so quietly that Apollo almost couldn’t hear him over the noise of the night market. “Anyway, I’d rather not get into it. Tell me more about your mother, you said the other day that her memories were coming back to her, ja?”

Apollo eyed him worriedly, but decided not to comment. “Yeah, yeah, uh - mostly stuff about Trucy, and Trucy’s dad, and her time with the troupe. Not so much the before, the me and...and my dad part. It was...I tried asking her, y’know, basic stuff about him. Like what his voice sounded like, what kind of person he was...but it’s all bits and pieces for her. Little tiny things, not significant details. She remembered that he didn’t like spinach and he had a pair of lucky socks, but she wasn’t sure if my voice sounded anything like his, or how they picked my name, or what their first date was. Stuff like that.” He visibly swallowed.

“I’m sure that must have been frustrating for both of you,” Klavier said, humming in sympathy.

“I don’t know what to feel sometimes.” An odd look crossed Apollo’s face then, like he wasn’t sure where his words had come from, but he seemed determined to keep going. “Obviously, I-I’m happy to have her in my life, and to see her doing so well after what she went through, but...it’s not like I had this...this attachment to my dad that she did. And sure, I wanna know more about him, but sometimes, i-it feels like I’m doing it more for her than for me. But that makes me sound like a shitty person, like I-I don’t care about him. Like he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

Klavier went silent for a moment, thinking. It was hard to concentrate when he could hear Apollo’s breath growing increasingly erratic; he so desperately wanted to wrap him up in a hug, though he wasn’t sure if Apollo would want him to. “If you ask me, you sound like a good person who cares about his mother,” he finally said after some time. “And even if your biological father isn’t as important to you as he was to her, he still means something to you. You know that.”

“Do I?” Apollo chuckled wetly, wiping his damp eyes with the sleeve hem of his hoodie. “And Trucy - god, Trucy, sh-she’s…”

“What about her?” Klavier asked, frowning.

“It’s not like either of us likes to think about it, but…” Apollo chewed his bottom lip. “If something happened to Mom, then...well. It’s not like it’s new to us...losing people. When do I get to the point where I can accept it? Where I know...I-I can’t do anything to stop it?” He let out another horrible laugh. “Shit, that sounded so heartless. Th-that’s not what I meant, I - ”

“I know what you meant,” Klavier promised somewhat sadly. “Have you talked to her about it? Or...either of them, really.”

“No, but it...it’s why Trucy wants us to hang out practically every day.” Apollo stopped for a moment, turning to watch Trucy, who was currently shoveling huge spoonfuls of shaved ice and red bean into her mouth, with a fond smile. “She won’t say it, but I-I know her. I can tell what she’s thinking. Even before we found out we were siblings, she seemed...kinda worried that I was gonna leave again. Or that I wasn’t gonna come back in the first place, even when I said I would.”

“Maybe it’s time you have that conversation,” Klavier suggested. “It won’t be a pleasant conversation, but it seems...necessary, ja?”

Apollo exhaled shakily. “Yeah, I know, I know. It’s just...there’s always something. A trial o-or a show or whatever. But, uh, honestly? I just don’t like thinking about it. Like, ever.”

“I don’t blame you,” Klavier admitted, rubbing Apollo’s arm reassuringly. “I wouldn’t want to open myself up to that kind of personal scrutiny, either.” He paused. “I...gave Trucy some similar advice a while back, you know. Advice that I should’ve taken myself, should still be taking myself, but...it’s like they say. Easier said than done.”

“Easier said than done,” Apollo echoed in agreement, sighing.

Another minute or two passed in silence, accompanied by the noisy chatter and whistling winds around them. Apollo seemed to be thinking intensely about something, but with everything they’d talked about, not just now, but over the past year, Klavier couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. Then, he lifted his head to look Klavier right in the eye. “Why did you call me in Khura’in, that first time?”

Klavier’s heart skipped a beat. “...why does it matter?”

“Because...because you’re one of my favorite people, too.” Apollo’s cheeks reddened, though he was clearly trying his best to ignore it. “And I - I wanna know if something happened that day. If...something happened to you.”

“Nothing happened to me,” Klavier said smoothly, trying not to let his dizzying joy at Apollo’s words show. “Trucy suggested I call you sometime, that’s all. Simple as that.”

Apollo’s right hand instantly went to his left wrist. “But that’s not all there is to it, is it?”

“Is this a cross-examination now?” Klavier asked, letting out an uneasy laugh. He turned on his heel and continued to walk. “You’re going to find my tell, are you? My nervous habit? It’s a nice night, Forehead, let’s not spoil it.”

“I just wanna understand you, Klavier.” Klavier stopped dead in his tracks; he could feel Apollo’s eyes on his back. “Look, if it’s such a big secret, or if you just don’t wanna tell me, I-I’ll shut up about it already. But I just - I worry about you sometimes. You’re always so...so calm. And helpful, a-and sweet, and...I get what it’s like to put on a brave face. To pretend that everything’s the way it should be. That’s all I’m saying. So if it really was nothing, then I’ll drop it, okay? I’ll let it go, and move - ”

“I was sitting in my childhood bedroom.” Now he felt lightheaded for a different reason; Klavier dropped his gaze, his body swaying despite the fact he was standing perfectly still. Apollo quickly stepped around him so they were face-to-face, tucking his empty cup under his arm so he could hold Klavier’s shoulders, his still-wet eyes shining with concern. “I was sitting on my bed, staring at the wall, and suddenly, I-I wanted to talk to the one person in the entire world who - who doesn’t want something from me. Who doesn’t want to ask for my autograph, or my connections, or my help, or...or about Kristoph. Who just wants to talk to me for - for - for me.” Before he could stop himself, his eyes were suddenly filling with tears. Klavier clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from crying out.

Apollo let out a stifled noise. “Ah - Klavier!”

“Mama, a-and Papa, I - they say they can’t - that it - b-but they still mourn him l-like he’s already - already gone,” Klavier managed to say between short, gasping breaths, his heartbeat pounding alarmingly fast in his ears. He desperately clutched at his chest, but he was unable to find his grip. The ground, his surroundings, they all seemed to be spinning around him. “And I-I want to say - ‘I’m still here, y-you have me’ - and they know, but th-they - ”

“Breathe, Klavier, breathe,” Apollo urged. “Look at me, watch me, okay? In...out...in...”

Klavier dropped his cup entirely, desperately clinging onto Apollo’s shoulders, anticipating that his knees were about to give out beneath him. He swallowed a few generous lungfuls of air, trying not to cough or exhale directly in Apollo’s face, all while his eyes were fixated on Apollo’s - large, round, expressive to a fault. The color of melted chocolate, usually, though in the moonlight, more akin to the color of ink. “I’m okay,” Klavier whispered, though tears were still rolling down his cheeks. “Sorry, I - ”

“Don’t apologize,” Apollo said firmly. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to - we don’t - we don’t have to talk about this.”

“Nein, I - I want to tell you.” Klavier cleared his throat, wiping his face on his sleeve; he knew he looked like a mess, he knew that they were in public, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Bitte, will you let me?”

“Yeah, o-of course.” Now it was Apollo's turn to rub his arm comfortingly. “But, uh, I think we should sit. There’s a bench over there, are you good to move?”

Once they managed to sit down, both of them visibly shaking, Apollo placed a trembling hand on Klavier’s knee, nodding for him to try again. “I was trying to say that - that I’ve always been our parents’ favorite. I was more outgoing, more curious, and I think they especially liked that about me.” Klavier’s breath was still shallow; he paused to take another deep, measured breath. “So when I say that...that I feel responsible somehow...that I played a part in his madness, his cruelty...I-I’m not just talking about Zak Gramarye’s trial.”

“You don’t mean…” Apollo sucked in a breath of his own. “You think he resented you, don’t you?”

“I think it’s more like...he never liked getting ignored, passed over, for someone else. For me, for Herr Wright…” Klavier swallowed thickly. “And then I go home to my parents, a-and they promise me it’s not my fault, that I was merely a pawn, but - but I can tell that, deep down, they miss him. They mourn him, like he’s no longer here. They're packing his things, cleaning out his room...trying to pretend he never existed, because it’s easier than living with the truth. But they slip sometimes. All the time, really. Because, at the end of the day...he still means something to them. To me.”

“Klavier,” Apollo said softly, squeezing Klavier’s knee. He seemed unsure of what to say.

“I can try all I want, but there’s no pretending for me,” Klavier continued bitterly, his voice growing stronger, louder. “Do reporters want to ask about my success as a prosecutor or my music career? Nein, they want to ask how it felt to prosecute my own brother and my own bandmate. Do my coworkers want to know how my weekend was or if I’m free to hang out? Nein, they only ask how I’m feeling when I seem less than perfect because it makes them uncomfortable. When I go to family gatherings, do they tease me about my love life or ask me how work is going? Nein, they want to know if he and I really are cut from the same cloth. No one - no one ever really wants to ask me about me. Just me.”

“Klavier - ”

“And I know they try,” Klavier sighed. “And I don’t mean to be...I’m trying not to ask for much. But how do I really know, that when Herr Edgeworth tells me I’m doing a good job, that I really am doing a good job? If Herr Blackquill tells me I seem to be happier these days, does he mean it, o-or is he telling me what he knows I want to hear?” He paused. “How do I...do I trust any of my family members - nein, how do I trust my own judgment...when the one person I grew up with...when he...when the people I-I thought I knew turned out to be...” He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence.

“For what it’s worth...you know I'm in your corner, yeah?” Apollo offered. “You know I won't...that I don't bullshit you. But still, I...I’m so sorry, that’s...that’s terrible. So when you texted me after your cousin’s wedding...”

Klavier nodded resignedly. “Ja, exactly. I don’t...it feels like…” He felt tears forming in his eyes again; he quickly wiped them away before they could fall. “...never mind, it’s stupid. It’s childish, i-it’s selfish, I - ”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.” Apollo gave him a watery, encouraging smile. “What is it?”

Klavier went silent for what felt like hours, his mind racing to find the precise words he wanted to say. “...it feels like I will always care more about someone else than they will ever care about me.”

Another lengthy pause soon followed, one that made Klavier unbearably nervous. For once, Apollo’s usually expressive face was completely inscrutable. Then, Apollo practically threw himself at Klavier, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in close. “Klavier,” he repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time, his voice warm and urgent in Klavier’s ear. “People care about you, okay? You gotta know that. I-I promise, there are people out there who - who care about you more than you think. Like...like me.”

Klavier let out a sobbing, incredulous laugh. “Achtung, Apollo...you do know that I’m in love with you, right?”

Apollo went still. He stared at him, wide-eyed. “You...you are?”

“You mean you really didn’t know?” Klavier could only laugh again, more hopelessly this time; his mouth seemed to be moving faster than his brain. While it usually never happened to him, it seemed like Apollo brought out his honesty more easily than most. He wasn’t sure if that impressed him or terrified him. “With everything that’s been happening between us, you didn’t think - ”

“I-I knew we were getting closer, th-that we were gonna go for drinks, but...I-I thought this was, like. A recent thing for you,” Apollo stammered, still staring at him disbelievingly.

“A recent thing? You mean like your feelings...for me?” Klavier was almost afraid to ask.

“What? No, I - ” Apollo suddenly seemed to realize he still had his arms loosely draped around Klavier’s midsection. He yanked them back like he’d been burned, his cheeks flushed pink. “I mean, yes, yes, d-definitely recent - ”

“Apollo, bitte.” Klavier took Apollo’s hands in his, gently running his thumbs across Apollo’s knuckles. “I know you don’t owe me your honesty, but I’d like to think that after everything I just said, you could afford me just a little bit of it.”

Apollo fell silent, considering. Klavier held his breath in anticipation, heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. Then, Apollo withdrew one hand from Klavier’s grasp, instead lifting it to cup Klavier’s jaw. His eyes were wet once more, his smile impossibly soft. “I hate that you feel like you have to ask for someone else to be honest to you...least of all me,” Apollo murmured. “I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine - ”

“But it isn’t!” Apollo interrupted fiercely. “You shouldn’t have to ask for basic decency, especially from someone who’s supposed to care about you. Because - ‘cos god, Klavier, you - you’re - I love you, okay?” Klavier’s mouth fell open, stunned, but no words came out. “I love you and your...your…” Apollo inhaled yet again, taking a moment to think carefully. “You always surprise me, y’know. With how...willing you are to be proven wrong. How open you are to changing your mind. And even though you’re one of the most self-important people I’ve ever met...you still manage to be pretty selfless when it comes down to it. So selfless, that...that...that it worries me sometimes.”

“Worries...you?” Klavier asked, his voice small.

Apollo shot him a shaky smile. “Whether you’re looking out for yourself.”

“I think the last thing anyone could accuse me of is not making something about me,” Klavier said, chuckling wetly. “Take now, for example. We were having such a nice night, until - ”

“ - until you finally got the chance to say what you’ve been wanting to say,” Apollo finished for him. “Just like...like I did. Just now.”

Klavier’s eyes flitted across Apollo’s face, his gaze traveling from his tearful eyes to his parted lips, trying to find a sign, a warning that there was something there other than complete sincerity. When he found nothing, he cracked a grin of his own. “You really love me?”

In lieu of answering, Apollo moved closer, his forehead resting against Klavier’s, their noses barely brushing. Klavier’s breath hitched. Then, Apollo closed the gap between them, kissing him so tenderly, so carefully, that he felt a pleasant shiver go up his spine. Finally. Klavier melted right into him, every muscle in his body seemingly relaxing all at once; he released Apollo’s hand so he could wrap his arms around him, pulling him into his embrace. Apollo was so warm, Klavier thought, his skin surprisingly soft, his lips unsurprisingly rough, not that it lessened Klavier’s joy. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment, not all the people walking by that could easily see them, not the fact that their friends could probably recognize them if they tried. When they reluctantly broke apart, they realized that they both had tears running down their faces.

“..shit.” Apollo let out a wet laugh, sniffling sharply. He reached into the pocket of his hoodie to pull out a packet of tissues, handing one to Klavier before attempting to take care of himself. “That was, uh - ”

“Perfect,” Klavier declared, his grin so wide, it threatened to split his face open.

“I was gonna say ‘gross’, but okay. Whatever you’re into, I guess,” Apollo teased, turning away momentarily to blow his nose. A comfortable silence fell over them as they took a moment to clean themselves up, to wipe their running noses and watery eyes. “Um, but - Klavier, are you okay? Because, well. That seemed like a lot.”

“Ja, I…” Klavier laughed disbelievingly. “...I feel incredible, actually. Like I’ve managed to...to let go of some of the things I’ve been carrying for a little too long. Even if I didn't do anything but drop them.” He then looked at Apollo. “What about you, liebe? We were talking about you, and then it became about me, and - ”

“That’s how conversations work, Klav,” Apollo reminded him. “And all that...I dunno, guilt, loneliness, whatever you wanna call it? That’s been going on for way too long. But for me, it’s...I-I’m still figuring some stuff out. Something I can deal with once I know, y’know?”

“If you’re sure. But...I’m here if you need me, ja? Always.” Klavier brushed a few loose strands of hair out of Apollo’s eyes, then leaned in to kiss him again. This particular kiss was thankfully less damp. “So, ah...what should we do now?”

“Well...I think all that crying made me dehydrated,” Apollo said half-jokingly. He stood, extending a hand in Klavier’s direction. “Will you finally let me pay for one of your drinks? Please?”

“I guess I can indulge you,” Klavier teased, taking Apollo’s hands and getting to his feet as well. Apollo rolled his eyes but pulled Klavier along nonetheless. Their fingers remained entangled, both of them holding on tight, even when they stepped back into the night market crowd.

_____

A few hours later, they found themselves in the elevator of Klavier’s apartment building, on the way up to his penthouse, grinning giddily at each other like lovesick teenagers. Naturally, the others had been suspicious when Apollo told them they were leaving together. Trucy, Athena, and Kay seemed ready to burst with questions, while Ema and Simon had merely watched them go with raised eyebrows. Still, no one said anything but their goodbyes, something both of them were grateful for.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard over there,” Apollo said, smirking. “You’re not changing your mind, are you?”

“Never,” Klavier replied instantly. Even though he knew Apollo was joking, he wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t. “Not when it comes to you.”

Apollo’s smile softened. “Good. That’s, uh...that’s good. Same here.”

After they’d washed up and settled in, the two of them collapsed onto Klavier’s bed, right on top of his duvet, comfortably exhausted from everything that had been said and done. Apollo was half-curled into Klavier’s side, yawning every so often while he sent off a few text messages, presumably to Trucy and their mother. Klavier had one hand in Apollo’s hair and the other loosely resting on Apollo’s hip, humming and tapping out a rhythm while he waited for Apollo to finish.

“Sorry,” Apollo said, briefly rolling over so he could set his phone down on the bedside table.

“Nein, nein, it’s okay,” Klavier replied. “I don’t know about you, but I’m wide awake. How am I supposed to fall asleep after a night like that, achtung.”

“Yeah, we definitely had, uh...we definitely had a moment back there.” Apollo sounded both embarrassed and pleased. “God, I hope no one saw us. I have zero interest in becoming a trending hashtag before our first date.”

“You don’t consider this our first date?” Klavier asked curiously.

“I prefer my first dates to be drama-free, thanks,” Apollo drawled. Still, his expression was relaxed, somewhat drowsy. “Though I think, in a way...we kinda needed that. Wish it hadn’t happened in public, but hey, we can’t exactly pick our battles.” At Klavier’s responding chuckle, he frowned slightly. “Klav? What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just - mein Gott, I love you.” Klavier rested his forehead against Apollo’s, his smile warm and open. Apollo returned it with one of his own, his hands resting against Klavier’s chest, Klavier’s heartbeat steady beneath his fingertips. “I know we still have a lot to deal with, but...right now? I couldn’t care less. I’m just...I’m so happy.”

Grinning, Apollo shuffled closer, kissing him chastely. They exchanged slow, meandering kisses for a few minutes, fingers lightly pressed into each other’s sides, legs loosely tangled together. “...dork.”

“Your response is supposed to be ‘I love you, too’, liebe,” Klavier hinted, eliciting a delighted laugh from Apollo’s mouth. “But seriously, I mean it. I really do feel...free.”

“Good,” Apollo said affectionately, cupping Klavier’s face with both hands. “Look, I - I know all that stuff you’re feeling isn’t gonna magically go away, just like that, but...if you still need to hear it…” He then turned his head, his lips brushing against Klavier’s ear. “...it wasn’t your fault. It was his, all his. And people legitimately care about you for reasons that have nothing to do with him or your fame or their own motives. So try not to let anyone make you think otherwise, okay?” Klavier shivered. “And I love you, too. Dork.”

“Ach,” Klavier said, sniffling. “You’re going to make me cry again, baby. How dare you call me a dork.” Apollo burst into laughter once more, burying his face in the crook of Klavier’s neck with a satisfied hum. They went quiet for a little while longer, simply holding each other and enjoying the stillness of the night. “I do have...one last little worry, though.”

“Yeah?” Apollo ran his thumb across Klavier’s cheek. “What is it?”

“I...part of me is worried, that…” Klavier paused, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. “After everything we’ve been through...do you really think this is going to work? Or do you think that we just hope that it will?”

“No use in pretending like we know for sure,” Apollo said honestly. “There’s a million things that could go wrong, y’know? We could get into a really bad argument, we could have problems separating work from our personal lives - hell, we might be better off as friends…”

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” Klavier teased.

“Oh, hush.” Apollo kissed Klavier to silence him. The two of them became momentarily distracted, wrapped up in each other’s embrace once more. Klavier wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to let Apollo go in the morning, not when they’d both waited this long. “All I’m saying is, as long as we try, then…” Apollo’s kiss-bitten lips then stretched into a fond grin. “...I think we’re gonna do just fine.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my seventh and final entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the third of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. However, this fic is best read after day five's, meet me halfway (across the sky), so I would recommend reading that one to fully understand the first half of this fic!

Y'all, I can't believe it's finally over! I feel like I've been working on these fics for ages (and I've fallen behind on others; we'll see if I end up getting two fics out in July like I originally planned), especially this one and day five's. Thank you to the lovelies who organized Klapollo Week, this was super fun to do! I got a little overambitious for sure, but I liked how they turned out. In doing this, I definitely learned that short(er) fics aren't really my thing; I had a good time writing them, but I'm not a concise writer, so I struggled with getting a good balance of plot and details for the fics that were under six thousand words. In fact, I low-key wanna write fuller versions of all of them 😅

If you missed any of the other days, I would love it if you checked them out! My personal favorites are the odd-numbered days, also known as the ones with angst. I'm thinking that sometime next year, I'll write a super long version of meet me halfway (across the sky) where Klavier eventually gets to be with Apollo in Khura'in. Knowing me, that thing will be a monster of fifty-thousand-word proportions. In the meantime, if you're interested in finding out what I'll be posting next, you can filter my fanfiction masterpost by "coming soon"!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you’re all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[mearcatsreturns]

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“croatdoctor65@aol.com”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“nursefirecracker@yahoo.com”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

[swordbenihime]

okay idk if im requesting right because im new to tumblr but- can you write a fic where zeke falls in love with a soldier from paradis? like this is around the time he brings the cart titan there but like in hopes of getting reiner back he accidentally gets y/n? something like that?

Conflict// Zeke Yeager x Survey Corps Soldier 

Warnings:None

Words:1.4k

...

You've been waiting in this cold cell for months. The lonely and dark cell was enough to make you question your life. You were left alone, and there was no one who could save you.

There was no longer escape for you. The cold wall you leaned against caused you to tremble; you pushed the hair against your forehead with the back of your hand. Your inner conflict was enough to feel guilty. While all your comrades were dead, you were drowning in your thoughts here.

Empathy is a special talent not given to every person. Understanding others' feelings made you feel cursed.

Understanding the enemy revealed your deepest thoughts in your mind. They were no different from you. The blood that flows through your veins, the goals you have acquired; none of you were different from each other.

It would be uncomfortable to face this bitter truth. One would be happy to believe lies rather than face the truth, whereas denial would only magnify the pain.

If you could find a way to get rid of this gnawing feeling, you would. But there was no way. The truth once learned could not be forgotten again.

As you pulled your legs towards your body, you put your head between your knees. You feeled to be pulled into a black hole.

They didn't have the concepts of good and bad for you anymore. These concepts lost their meaning; they were just words. The letters you saw on the paper didn't make sense.

You calmly thought of the scene in your mind as your eyes slowly closed: the screams, the crying soldiers, the smell of blood.

You said, "I'm going to die here."

At that moment, you thought you were going to die there. You closed your eyes; you waited silently for death. But you were just so lucky. Maybe unlucky.

Perhaps death was the better option, considering what you were feeling now. Your torment was asking you to pull on your knees and cry.

As the door was opened, your gaze found the soldiers, grabbed your arm and lifted it to your feet.While not opposing them, you took your steps forward, and you knew what would happen after all.

As the  door opened, the blond man had a quick glance at you, writing something on the paper in front of him with  pen, pointing at the chair with his hand, telling you to sit down.

The silky voice that reached your ear was no longer as irritating as it was on the first day. You were used to it. You got used to it more.You were starting to understand even this man who killed everyone.

"Hello," he said as his gaze found you.His eyes wrapped around your sad face caused him to frown.

"You don't look good today."he said suddenly.

You weren't well.Your blank gaze met his face. His gray eyes were waiting for you to answer. Your lips were slowly parted.

"I've been in a cell for months.How do you expect me to look good?"

Did the expression soften for a moment or did you see it wrong? Frankly, no one knew the correct answer.

He had been questioning you for months like this. He was asking questions about everything, trying to find out everything you know. At first, other soldiers had suggested torture, but he opposed it. He said he could make you talk.

The first time you met, your gaze dropped; you didn't say a single word. As the days passed, you started small conversations. He really made you talk.

You still haven't told anything about Paradis. You were just telling each other how your days went by. You couldn't even believe you did this, but you needed to talk to someone. You had to contact a person, even if this person was Zeke Yeager.

His fingers tangled in his blond hair. It was obvious that he was thinking of something. He looked stressed and nervous, as if he was holding back not to speak.

He whispered "You're right." He leaned back as he closed the files in front of him.

"Shall we talk about Paradis?" He asked.

Your gaze drifted away from gray eyes. So it was the moment. "I refuse." You said resolutely.

Zeke continued to stare at you for a moment, shaking his head, reaching for the cigarette pack on the table.Your eyes closed involuntarily as he felt his breath on your face. It felt strange to feel him this way. The more you felt him, the more you began to understand him.

"How stubborn you are."he said to himself, and you started laughing slightly.

"What am I going to talk about? My friends who died? Or the titans that ate us alive? Or we have no difference from titans? What will I talk about, War Chief?"

"You surprised me."

You shook your head slowly as your eyes met.

"I don't understand."

He once again exhaled from his cigarette. "I thought you would say I am a murderer. I killed all your friends,ı am ruthless. You know, things like that."

"No." you said queitly,looked away from him.

Zeke was even more curious when he saw this state of mind. Your eyes suddenly widened s his fingers found your hand, and your gaze met again.

"You are a soldier. You were following orders, just like me."you whispered

The fingers on your hand were slowly away from you, you were still looking at each other in silence.

"I must know myself before critize others. I am not a  good person either. I also committed murders; killed people. The titans ı slaughtered were people,after all."

He continued to look at you in silence, picking up the files in front of him and stood up and left the room.

...

Later in the evening, you were sitting on the ground, thinking quietly. The answer you gave surprised him; you knew that. He did not expect such an answer.You could shout him, tell him he was a murderer, and you wouldn't have lied, and maybe you had the right to say that. He killed everyone you knew.

But you didn't want to say, repeating what happened made it pointless. He was a soldier, he was following orders, just like you in Stohess. You couldn't forget that moment of staring at the corpses of hundreds of civilians.

The door of the dark cell was suddenly opened, and there was no one coming at this hour, which was not a good sign.You stood up quickly; your back met the wall.

You were suddenly relieved to see the person entering. You were afraid to see someone except him. At least you were aware that he would not hurt you. Although it is unbelievable.

As you told the soldier standing at the door to go, the door was closed; you two were left alone.

“We need to talk. "He looked solemnly; it wasn't good.

"You need to give us information about Paradis. Or they want it to be executed you as soon as possible."

You stayed where you were with the words you heard. So you came to an end.

"I refuse."

You should have died already, on that battlefield; you should never have come here.With the fingers you felt on your chin, your gaze suddenly turned toward him, his face leaning towards you; your body was between the wall and his body.

"Don't be stubborn." His gray eyes were staring into your eyes; his fingers were traveliing on your cheek. You had unconsciously closed your eyes.

"I should have died on that battlefield. None of this should have happened. You shouldn't have brought me here." you whispered.Your lips were touching.

"But it happened."

It was true.He was saying truth from day one.He was accepting what he did.No denying.

"You should have killed me."

You felt his smile you felt on your lips,your fingers in his hair, your lips met.It was wrong.You felt but you kept go.Your arms wrapped around his neck.You didn't even know where was this feeling coming from.His lips found your neck,started to kiss slowly.Your body was squirmed in his arms.

"I have a thing for you."he whispered.

Your lips met him again with his confession.Because,you had a thing for him too.

You forgot everything in his arms; you just kept kiss him. You didn't care what was going to happen.As your lips parted, he gave you a quick kiss,he had straightened his messy blonde hair and loose tie.

"I'll come back soon."he said.You nodded,kissed him back.

You had no choice but to wait for him.

[shoutaaizawas]

one month anniversary event? hUH can i join?? if it’s no hassle: could i request bakugou in hunger games au! with the prompt “Whatever you do, don’t open your eyes.”? i would love to see what you do, thank you in advance 🥺💞 i love your work, binge worthy 100%. please take care! :)

im so sorry this took FOREVER ilysm your comments give me life thank you for all your support

↳ bakugou katsuki x reader → no final goodbyes

event: au prompts summary: you and bakugou are childhood enemies. when you’re picked for the annual hunger games you’re shocked when he volunteers. word count: 6,599 tags/warnings: hunger games!au, angst, like really angsty 😳, violence, blood mention, character death a/n: uhhhh i’m sorry also there was so much i wanted to put but i had to stop myself or this would have been a whole novel alternate ending

You hated Bakugou Katsuki. You had since you were kids. You grew up in District Seven next door to the Bakugou household. Ever since you could remember you were arguing with Bakugou. Your parents would laugh and say it was normal if he got on your nerves so much maybe it was because you had a crush on him.

The thought had always disgusted you. Sure, as you both got older Bakugou certainly got quite attractive and filled out. He went from a scrawny kid to a man in what felt like overnight, it was hard not to notice his muscles.

You recalled one day you were trying to nap but the repeated sound of banging outside kept waking you. You stormed outside to yell at him but you were not expecting the sight of him shirtless and swinging an ax down onto firewood. Your throat felt like it was drying up and you turned around before he caught you.

When had he gotten attractive? It didn’t matter, he was still the same unbearable Bakugou you had known since you were born. Looks couldn't make up for that personality.

Despite your distaste for each other, Bakugou’s mother insisted he walk with you to school to watch over you. You would complain and say that it was unnecessary but your mother would scold you for being rude and tell you to just accept it.

Some days you’d walk to and from school in silence. Others you would trade insults the whole way earning looks from people you passed.

“They’re picking tributes soon.” You said. It was rare for you to start a normal conversation but the Hunger Games were fast approaching and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared. “We’re eighteen now, it’s our last one. It looks like we might make it out.” You said with a dry laugh.

“What are you scared or something?” He replied.

“What? No, I mean what are the chances of getting picked?” You said with a shrug. “You’re probably the one that's scared.” You bit back. So much for having a normal conversation with him.

Time flew by and it was finally the day of the Reaping.

If you thought it was silent before on your walks with Bakugou it was even worse today. Despite the fact you both pretended like you weren’t scared, you were terrified and you knew even Bakugou was nervous.

If he was chosen at least he would stand a chance. He was strong and she had seen how he fought others at school in the past. If it was between him and a trained district kid you’d bet on him every time.

You, on the other hand, you never had held a weapon in your life. You weren’t very strong and not very fast. Your chances were overall bad.

Bakugou stopped as you approached the place where you would go your separate ways.

“Our last one, after this we don’t have to worry.” You said forcing a smile.

“Whatever.” He scoffed before turning to walk to the boy's side.

“I was trying to be nice for once.” You complained. “Screw you, I hope you get picked.”

You might hate Bakugou but you didn’t mean it. In fact, the thought of him getting picked made you feel things you couldn’t explain. After this was over you’d walk home and complain about the boring life you’d have in District Seven and bask in the relief of knowing that you would be safe.

As the escort of District Seven stood on the stage you stood in the crowd tapping your foot. This would be over soon and you could go home and never worry about this again.

“Ladies first.” The woman said fluttering to the left side and drawing from the pool of names there. She opened the paper and announced the name.

Heads turned but one set of eyes burned into you more than others. You couldn’t breathe. You were suffocating, drowning, frozen to the ground. You turned to look at Bakugou from across the crowd. Staring at him, helpless with tears in your eyes. You didn’t know why he was the first person you sought out.

“Come on, dear. Don’t be shy!” The woman said waving you up to the stage.

Taking shaky steps you walked through everyone to the stairs. Standing up there was surreal. It felt like a nightmare. Your eyes stayed on Bakugou’s red ones, how odd you looked to him for comfort in the worst time of your life. You supposed this would be the last time you’d look into those familiar eyes. Why did that make you so sad?

The woman moved to the boy's side and pulled a name but you could hardly pay attention. You snapped out of your fog when you heard a familiar voice.

“I volunteer!” Your eyes snapped to the ash-blond you had known your whole life. What was he thinking?

Bakugou walked to the stage and you stared in disbelief. What was going on?

It was a blur, you were ushered into a room with your parents. They were sobbing, hugging you, holding you like it’d be the last time. Well, it would be the last time, you supposed.

You were led to a train, the inside was decorated far nicer than most things in your district. You sat there feeling numb. It was overwhelming enough being picked but you were trying to wrap your head around Bakugou. Why would he volunteer? None of you ever wanted to be picked. This wasn’t District One where people trained for it.

Bakugou entered and stared at you blankly. You don’t know what happened but something snapped in you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You screamed, lunging for him. The escort for your district was quick to make her way to the other side of the train car to avoid the commotion. “Why would you volunteer? Do you have some death wish!?”

You grabbed at his shirt, hitting his chest but he stood still and unmoving not saying a word.

“What about your parents? What about your future? You’re throwing it all away!! It’s bad enough I got picked I didn’t have a choice.” Tears ran down your face uncontrollably. “You had a choice! You had a choice!”

A man you hadn’t seen before pulled you off of Bakugou, leading you to one of the rooms on the train.

“Cool off here for a while.” The man with long black hair said. “It’s a lot to take in. Take your time processing it.”

With that, he closed the door. You laid on the bed, your throat raw from screaming. It didn’t take long for your tears to come. You sobbed and sobbed, curled up on the bed. Why did this happen?

By the time you woke up you hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep. You felt so exhausted. It was still hard to understand everything that had happened. How did you get picked, why could Bakugou volunteer?

You avoided him, not wanting to see him. Every time you thought about him it stirred a rage in you that you didn’t quite understand.

The man that had pulled you off of Bakugou introduced himself as Aizawa Shouta, he was a previous winner from your district. Even though he had won you could see the damage that it left on him. That scared you, even people who won looked miserable.

Aizawa explained that he was to mentor you both and help as much as he could to prepare you for the games. It still didn’t feel real as he explained it all.

Before you knew it you were in the capital, a place you never expected to see. It was big and fancy, far more developed than your district. You followed alongside Aizawa, Bakugou on his other side. You didn’t want to look at him but you still felt the urge to sneak glances at him. When you did his eyes were on you, once you realized that you would look away quickly as if you hadn't been looking in the first place.

The building you were to stay in until the games began were modern and high tech. You stayed in your room, even when you were told dinner was ready. You wanted to be alone, more than that you didn’t want to be around Bakugou.

A knock on the door caught your attention. You cautiously opened it to see Aizawa there with a plate of food. He handed you the plate and you let him in.

“Why won’t you come out for dinner?” He asked.

“I don’t want to see him.” You said, taking a bite of the food even though you didn’t have an appetite. The food was of better quality than anything your family could ever afford. Did they feel better if they spoiled the children before sending them to their deaths?

“He volunteered.” He said the way he said it implied that he knew something that you didn’t.

“Yeah, and that was stupid.” You said. “Why would he choose a death sentence.”

“Things aren’t always that simple.” He said.

You stared at him, trying to comprehend what that meant. What valid motivation could he have?

“I’ll let you get some rest but you have training tomorrow.” He said.

“Training?” You questioned.

“Yeah, you'll have time to train for the games. You should pick something to impress the judges so they’ll give you a good rating.” He said. “If you get a good rating people will support you, send you stuff to help during the game.”

“Oh.” You said. You had seen some of it on TV but you always tried to avoid watching most of it. It made you sick to see children sent off to their deaths. You had seen people you grew up with sent to the games. You supposed you’d have to do the interviews too. How were you supposed to pretend to be some charming person when you were just a lamb for the slaughter?

Days went on and you trained from morning to night, you weren’t strong but you tried to practice with some weapons. An ax felt familiar you used it to chop wood before. It felt pointless, even if you could use it well enough you knew you didn’t have it in you to kill someone. You had no chance.

You spent a lot of time studying the plants, it interested you even if it would only help you so much. There were a lot of plants that were good for healing and some were even dangerous.

Reading a book on herbology, you sat far away from the other tributes who were sparring and throwing weapons at targets. It was hard to focus knowing that you’d be their target in a few days.

“Why are you wasting your time with that?” A familiar voice said behind you.

“It’s none of your business.” You spat back at Bakugou.

“Plants aren’t going to keep you from getting a knife in your back.”

“Why are you even here? How stupid are you to volunteer?”

“I’m going to win. I win at everything I do.” He said.

You stared at him in disbelief. You knew that Bakugou strives to beat everyone in his way but he never expressed that in regards to the Hunger Games. He always acted the way you did and how most did. They were disgusting and you wanted to avoid them as much as possible.

You turned your attention away from him, you couldn’t deal with him. You didn’t have long before the games would begin. You had to focus on what you were doing for the judges, not that it mattered. You knew you couldn’t compare to the others. You didn’t have much of a chance.

For the judges you displayed your knowledge of plants, it wouldn’t get you a great score but it was better than doing nothing. They seemed barely interested so you didn’t expect much.

Sitting on the couch of the apartment you were staying at with Bakugou and Aizawa you weren’t shocked to see yourself get a four. You heard a scoff from Bakugou and you sent him a dirty look. You were shocked to see Bakugou get a twelve. You knew that he was strong and his willpower alone was enough to make him the best at everything he did but it still left you wondering just what he did to get that score.

Time passed quickly and before you knew it the interviews were up. It was the last big event before the games would begin. That made your stomach churn. It wouldn’t be long until you’d be in an arena and everyone there would want you dead. There hadn’t been a day since you arrived in the capital that you weren’t stuck in your head dreading what would come. It was almost impossible to sleep and even harder to stomach anything.

Your stylist had picked a deep forest green dress for you. It was elaborate and stunning. Staring at it on the mannequin, the dress reminded you of home. The forests that were damp and earthy that always felt right to be in. The hearth in your family’s home that kept you warm on the cold nights. The stews that your mother made that you loved so much. The rain against your window at night while you read your favorite book. The boy next door that no matter how much you fought with him there was a sense of comfort being at his side.

Everything that you would never see again. Tears streamed down your face and you pretended they weren’t there as you were helped into the dress.

Your interview was first. Your entrance was standard, the questions not very exciting. It was easy to feel that the crowd wasn’t very interested in you. How could you capture their interest? You knew you were just another face, just a background character in someone else's story.

Bakugou was after you, the noise of the host and him talking was in the background as you walked with Aizawa out of the backstage area.

“You volunteered and you from District Seven, that’s very rare. What could possibly make you do something like that.” The host questioned. You scoffed, you already knew his answer. ‘Because I’ll win.’ You could hear it perfectly in his voice.

“Because the girl I love was chosen.” He said. You must have misheard that. You turned to look at the screen and saw him sitting on the couch on stage looking far more dressed up than you had ever seen him in your life.

“The girl you love, and by that do you mean your district partner?” The host asked excitedly looking at the crowd as if they hadn’t heard.

“Yes, we grew up with each other. I lived next door to her, we spent everyday walking to and from school. No matter how much we teased each other or pretended we didn’t like each other I always cared about her. When I heard her name called I knew that I couldn’t watch her do this alone. I volunteered so I can protector her, and make sure she gets to make it home.” He said.

“Wow, what an amazing story. Doesn’t it tug on your heartstrings? We all wish you luck in the games.” The host said as Bakugou was ushered away.

Numbness was all you felt. His words rang in your head. Aizawa looked at you with a concerned expression.

How could he lie like that? Just so he would have the viewers on his side? Just so he would have more sponsors in the game feeling sympathy for his sob story.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You started as Bakugou walked down the hall towards you. He gave you a blank stare. “I know you couldn’t care less about me but did you really have to involve me in your story to manipulate the viewers?”

Bakugou stared at you before moving past without a word. You had expected him to yell at you or argue that it only made sense to use every advantage you could get but his silence was unsettling.

It was a blur. It was the day of the games. You stood in a cold room staring at the elevator that would lift you into the arena. This was it. It probably wouldn’t be long until you were dead. Taking a deep breath you took in the clothing you were provided. The heavy coat was large and made you feel too warm in this small room. From what you could gather it was going to be cold in the arena. At least you were used to snow. The best thing you had going for you was your survival skills if you could get away from the blood bath without dying.

Aizawa was there to give you your last bits of advice. The biggest being to avoid the cornucopia, it was always guaranteed to be a blood bath where only the strongest came out on top. Aizawa advised you to take what minor supplies you could get and hide away from others until necessary.

There was a far off look in his eyes. It was easy to tell that he was trying to distance himself emotionally. No doubt it was hard to get to know two kids every year only to watch them die horrifically.

“Thank you for everything.” You said softly.

“Goodbye.” He said giving you a sad smile.

A timer had begun counting down as you entered the elevator. Pressing your eyes closed you took a deep breath. A part of you considered if going for the cornucopia would be the best way to end things quickly. You shook your head. You owed it to your family, to yourself to at least try even if it was only delaying the inevitable.

The elevator started to move and an opening appeared at the ceiling. Cold air flooded the space and you were glad you were dressed the way you were. As you entered the arena you took in your surroundings. At least two feet of snow blanketed everything in sight. Most of the space around was open but in the distance, there was a forest. Mountains and cliff sides lingered in the distance.

The cornucopia sat not far away, surrounded by different items. It was tempting but it was a setup. You glanced towards the forest, it would be the best option. The cover of the trees would help you hide away from the others.

Looking around the others surrounding you, you recognized them all. You knew which ones you should be careful of. Your eyes met Bakugou’s and your stomach dropped. Once you ran away would you ever see him again? Your last words to him hadn’t been kind. Would he win? Or would he be killed by another tribute? What would he do if it was only the both of you remaining? Would he kill you? You knew you could never hurt him.

The clock ticked and with each sound, your heart beat faster and faster.

Run. Just run. Don’t look back.

The clock hit zero and chaos broke out. You fled for the trees not sparing a look back. The snow was deep and hard to move through, thankfully you were used to the snow. You weren’t expecting to find a backpack in the snow. You grabbed it without stopping as you ran to the trees.

Once you were in the tree line you felt some relief but you knew others would have the same idea so you continued not slowing your pace. You ran and ran until you couldn’t go anymore. You spotted a tree with strong looking branches and figured it was a decent place to hide for now.

Climbing the tree you were able to get comfortable as possible so you could look through the backpack. In it were some supplies, rations, water, rope, and a few other things.

The biggest concern for survival would be cold. It was cold now and it would only get worse. Your clothing would keep you warm but it might not be enough. You waited, carefully listening to the forest and its sounds. Eventually, nightfall came and the canons went off announcing the number of deaths that had occurred for the day. Fifteen in total. More than half gone already. She wondered if they thought they could survive the cornucopia or if they had gone to it in hopes of ending things quickly. When you didn’t see Bakugou’s face among them you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

As much as you knew you needed to you couldn’t sleep. You knew the danger you were in. As the temperature dropped you wished you could make a fire but you knew it was too risky to do so.

Morning came and you wanted to hunt today, you had the rations from the backpack but you wanted to keep them as a backup if you couldn’t get food. The skill wasn’t unfamiliar, you had done it before just not with these tools. There was a hatchet in the backpack, it wasn’t normally used to hunt but you could make it work.

You had been able to kill a rabbit, making a small fire to cook it before putting it out and moving on. As night fell you made your way into another tree for the night. You accidentally fell asleep a few times throughout the night before startling awake.

Days passed and you couldn’t remember the last time you felt any warmth. Tributes died day by day, none of them were Bakugou. That was a relief and it made you nervous at the same time. You didn’t want to face him.

The landscape before you was beautiful, you had scaled one of the smaller parts of the mountain. It was risky but if you got higher up you hoped it would deter other tributes from finding you. Green pine trees covered the ground as far as you could see. It reminded you of home. You pushed that thought out of your mind before it brought you any more sorrow.

As you moved through some of the dense trees on the mountain you weren’t expecting to come upon the edge of a cliff. You stumbled, pulling back so that you wouldn’t fall but it was too late. Your gravity was off and there was no way to stop yourself now. You reached out hopelessly to catch anything to stop yourself from falling. What you weren’t expecting was for someone’s hand to grasp yours. You were pulled back to safety as you came face to face with Bakugou.

“Idiot, watch where you’re going!” He said staring at you with an angry expression.

“Bakugou?” You said in confusion, why was he here? Had he been following you. “You know it’s not a great tactic to save your enemies from dying. Kind of losing out on a free loss.”

“I don’t want to win the loser’s way.” He grunted before letting go of you, you nearly fell to the ground.

“Really, why are you here?” You questioned.

“Because it’s a good place to be, if you’re the first one in these mountains you’ll have the high ground.” He answered. “We might as well as team up since we’re both here. The others have made alliances.”

“I’m not really helpful for an alliance, you should know that.” You said, sitting down on the ground to get your breath back. Your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline.

“Better than nothing.” He said before sitting down next to you.

The silence was odd. In a way it was so similar to all the times you walked to school in silence, forgoing the usual trade of insults. But it was different all at the same time. You weren’t going about your normal day, you were in the middle of an even that would leave one if not both of you dead.

“I still don’t get why you volunteered. Even if you win it’s not worth it.”  You said to him. Even if you received money and everything else they gave was it worth the risk? Was it worth the trauma you’d be left with?

“You don’t have to understand.” He said. That left you with more questions than answers but you didn’t push further.

Taking the day you made your way into the mountains more, as night fell you stopped to make camp. You were unsure about making a fire but Bakugou didn’t seem too concerned.

“Here.” He said throwing a sleeping bag at you. You had noticed the good-sized backpack he had on when you met earlier. You wondered if he had managed to get anything from the cornucopia but you didn’t ask. Were any of the people that were killed on the first day killed by him? It was hard to imagine him taking someone's life.

“Thank you.” You said. You were thankful for the sleeping bag, it would be a lot better than the trees you had stayed in all night.

“I’ll take first watch.” He said. You wanted to argue but you were so tired from the lack of sleep that you gave in.

It was odd the sense of safety you had with Bakugou. A part of you said that he could slit your throat while you slept but you knew deep down he wouldn’t. If he was going to kill you he would be straight forward about it. You fell asleep without hesitation.

You returned to consciousness quickly, the sensation of someone’s hand pressed against your mouth. Your eyes opened up and you realized that it wasn’t Bakugou but another tribute. You tried to scream but it was muffled. Moving for your hatchet you realized that they had you fully pinned down. Tears burned in your eyes as you stared up at them.

“Get off of her!” You heard Bakugou yell. You wondered where he had been.  

“Why would I do that?” The guy said, you felt the cold steel of a blade press against your neck and you let out a whimper.

“Whatever you do, don’t open your eyes,” Bakugou said and you knew he was talking to you. Without thinking you listened.

With a yelp of pain, the guy tumbled off of you, and a weight was lifted from your chest both literally and figuratively. There was a noise of a commotion, rustling, and grunts of pain before everything went silent. A moment passed and the sound of a canon rang out in the arena.

“Just wait here, don’t look.” He said. You knew what had happened but it was hard to believe. There was more sound, footsteps, the sound of something being dragged before more footsteps. “Okay.”

Opening your eyes you could see Bakugou in the moonlight, standing over you. What stood out was the blood that covered his hands and his jacket, barely reflecting in the glow.

“T-Thank you.” You stuttered out, still scared. You knew that you would die here but coming face to face with death was worse than you imagined. “I-I” You started but tears ran down your face.

The last thing you expected was for him to kneel and take you in his arms. Your first reaction was to stiffen, was he going to kill you? When you felt him gently place you head against his chest you realized he was hugging you. As much as you wanted to push him away or argue you felt so vulnerable after what happened. You slowly wrapped your arms around him before letting loose more tears.

“You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” He said. You had only seen this side of him once before.

When you were young you had been in the forest behind your houses, playing like you did often. It had been an accident, you weren’t looking. You jumped off a rock into a pile of leaves, playing in them. What you didn’t expect was there to be a bear trap.

The pain was so bad you had nearly blacked out. You remembered how panicked he was, rushing to your side. He disarmed the trap faster than you expected and before you knew it he was carrying you home.

The memories of it were vague from the pain and time but what stuck in your head was the soft voice he used reassuring you everything was going to be alright and the tears that welled up in his eyes.

By the time you woke up in bed bandaged up Bakugou was back to his normal self, no hint of the teary-eyed boy you had seen. A part of you always wondered if that had been your imagination trying to soothe you through the traumatic moment.

The softness Bakugou showed you know made it clear that your memory had not been incorrect. Hands gripping into his jacket he held you until your tears stopped and the sun slowly rose in the sky.

He explained that he had heard a noise and went off to look for the source and when he returned the other tribute had been on you. He didn’t apologize but you could hear the guilt in his voice. These events had just furthered your confusion about everything.

Once there was enough light you ate some rations before packing up and heading further up the mountain. Your travel was silent for the most part but every once and a while you would talk.

The number of tributes was getting lower every day. Not counting you and Bakugou there were three others left. Honestly, you hadn’t expected to make it this long. You wouldn’t have made it this long if it wasn’t for Bakugou saving you last night.

“What are you going to do if it gets down to just the two of us?” You asked, your breath appearing in the cold air.

“Why are you asking such a stupid question?” He grunted back at you.

“I think it’s a fair question.” You said. Did his avoidance of it mean that it was obvious he would kill you?

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I think the quickly approaching reality is something I should worry about.” You returned. “Unless you think I’ll die before then.”

“You might with how clumsy you are, idiot.” He said, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes scanned the snowy trail.

“Even on death’s door, you’re going to give me that attitude?” You said annoyed. “Bakugou Katsuki, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met.”

The sound of a canon went off stopping your conversation. Just a second later another one went off. You took a shaky breath. There was only one other tribute left.

Looking over at Bakugou you caught his gaze, you didn’t miss the nervous look in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“One left.” You whispered to yourself.

That night you set up a small camp in the mouth of a cave. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat anything, the nerves were too much. It was almost over, how had you made it into the top three? Would the last tribute kill you both? Or would Bakugou kill the last tribute? Then what?

It came crashing down on you even harder than it had before. Someone had to die. You and Bakugou wouldn’t make it out together, there was only ever one winner. Tears streamed down your face before you recognized them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been a constant in your life, a constant you always thought that you hated but sitting here confronting the idea of him dying tore you apart. You cared about him more than you would ever like to admit. Even if you argued more than anything else Bakugou always looked after you. If someone was mean to you at school he would scare them off, if you got hurt he would patch you up even if he did make fun of you the whole time, he was always there for you no matter what.

Why had life decided to be so unfair to you?

A day passed and you hiked further into the mountains, there had been no sign of the other tribute. That made you nervous, you knew that the game maker wanted a show and if he didn’t get one the would do what they thought would make things interesting and it wouldn’t be good for you.

Passing through a dense forest you felt on edge. You knew something bad would happen but you didn’t know what exactly it would be. You felt like something was watching like you were being hunted. Glancing at Bakugou you knew he was on edge too.

A crack of thunder rang out. You knew with how suddenly it hit it wasn’t natural. Suddenly rain poured down, with how cold it was you knew it would be bad if you got soaked.

“We need to find cover,” Bakugou said looking to you.

The two of you picked up your pace into a run, searching for anything that would work. You spotted a cave opening, it was dangerous to be in a confined space but you would only be in more danger out here. The storm hit harder and harder with every passing moment. Lightning striking nearby and thunder rumbled the ground around you.

You tripped, landing on your knees. Bakugou pulled you up by the back of your jacket and back onto your feet. This time he took your hand into yours pulling you along.

Finally, you reached the cave, the shelter from the storm providing some relief. You looked at Bakugou and without saying anything you both knew this was a trap. Opening your backpack you pulled out the flashlight that was in there. Turning it on you were able to see your surroundings better.

“Let’s go in further,” Bakugou said looking around. “Be careful, we don’t know if they’re in here or if they’ll be behind us.”

The cave wasn’t spacious but the tunnel you followed went deeper in. It was eerily silent, the only sound was from the storm outside. You don’t know how long it took but eventually, it opened up to a large cavern. There was an opening in the ceiling of the cave letting in icy cold air and the rain that poured down but overall it was enough to cover from the storm.

“It’s a dead end.” You said looking around.

“So we wait.” He said.

Bakugou paced the cavern, walking around different parts of it surveying the space.

It happens quickly, you hear a noise and suddenly Bakugou is on the ground under the last tribute. A knife is at his throat as he struggles to hold it back. Fear grips you at the sudden occurrence.

For a moment you’re frozen, your body won’t move even if your head is screaming at you to help. You finally break free and rush forward, you tackle the tribute off of Bakugou and onto the ground of the cavern.

It’s messy, you struggle and fight but the tribute is far stronger than you and easily throws you off before regaining his balance and attacking.

Bakugou watches in horror as the tribute overtakes you. He moves forward, knife in hand this time. He blocks out the reality of what he has to do, driving the blade down into his back repeatedly. He pulls him off of you, throwing him to the side.

As the canon goes off he blocks out the fact that it’s just the two of you left. He knows what he has to do but he can’t bring himself to think about it yet. He wants to enjoy the last moments of peace.

“Katsuki.” You say but your voice is ragged. He’s taken aback at the use of his first name. “Don’t look.”

His stomach drops as he realizes the blood soaking through your coat isn’t the tribute's. He panics, dropping to his knees beside you tearing open your coat trying to find the wound.

“No, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” He said pressing against the wound trying to stop the bleeding.

“You’re going to win just like you wanted.” You replied.

“You idiot!” He yells. “I didn’t volunteer to win, I did it to protect you!”

He watches your face fall at the realization.

“You-”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you going through this alone, if you died I would never forgive myself for not being there. I volunteered to make sure that you would make it out alive!”

“Why?” Your voice was breathless, eyes tearing up.

“Because I love you, idiot!” He yelled. “How stupid are you?”

“Katsuki, I-” You started, your breathes heavily as you tried to speak. “I-” You tried to speak but your eyelids fell closed, consciousness fading.

“No! I’m not gonna lose you. You can’t die, I did this to keep you safe!” He screamed. “I did this to protect you! Why did you try to help me! I was supposed to die for you!”

Tears ran down his face as he screamed out. A canon went off and it felt like he had been stabbed. He collapsed into you, sobbing into your stomach.

The games came to a close. They retrieved Bakugou but he fought tooth and nail to keep the peacekeepers away that tried to take him away from your body. The only option they were left with was to sedate him.

Once Bakugou woke up they tried to explain to him that he would have to do an interview at the capitol as well as make appearances in all of the districts. Their words fell on deaf ears as he refused to listen to anyone, trying to attack anyone who got close enough. They finally decided to send Aizawa in.

“Bakugou, you need to be reasonable.” He said. “If you don’t listen they will kill you and tell everyone that it was from your injuries in the games.”

“I have nothing to live for, the only reason I did any of this was to make sure she won and I failed and now I have to live with that.” He spits back.

“I know,” Aizawa said solemnly. “I’m sorry, I know you did everything to protect her.”

“If they want to kill me then let them.”

“Please, at least let me see if they will let you go home without any media. We can say that you got sick from something in the arena and had to be sent home.”

Bakugou didn’t reply but Aizawa took that as a yes.

Stepping into the empty house Bakugou felt numb. Aizawa had managed to get him home without any more disturbance. The capital was in an upset without the media the thrived off of after the Games. Many people were looking forward to the tearful remembrance of you. The capitol had been enthralled by the love story between you and Bakugou.

What was the point anymore? Looking out the window to the yard, it was rainy and foggy. He couldn’t bring himself to care about anything. He hadn’t even seen his parents since he got back to District Seven.

It haunted him, watching you die. Your stuttered last words cut off by your last breath. Did you love him back? It was something he would never have an answer to and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.

alternate ending

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsuhoee

[sweetestlamb]

You Can’t Just Leave Me

Summary: The Han family is a force to be reckoned with. 

Author’s Note: Writing this chapter made me smile, I hope reading it as the same affect on you all. Thank you to everyone who supports this story and leaves comments (or my silent readers). I appreciate you all and I am so thankful that you like this brainchild, I’ve just been winging it- never expecting to be on chapter 7 on something I initially planned on being a one shot. You all made it come this far, enjoy chapter 7!! Beautiful header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl text message created by Junjin fairy @prodmina

The apartment is eerily quiet following Su-ah's departure, he hadn't intentionally tried to eavesdrop but it was hard not to overhear their sniffles through the door. Then hours later the usually bubbly girl had exited the room with red rimmed eyes, he'd never seen her cry before in his many years of knowing her. He was awkward in the face of it, not used to comforting anyone besides Ju-Kyeong. 

Their conversation was clipped and it was clear that Sujin hadn't opened up about what happened. The Su-ah he knew would be making plans to sabotage her father, if she knew the full story.  She'd left with the final words, "Take care of her." He nodded without hesitation that was his intentions, he just needed to get her onboard with his plan to do that.

Taking a deep soothing breath he walks over to knock on the door.

"Sujin-ah, can we talk?" He asks, pressing his head against the door. Ready to plead if need be, she hadn't been answering him since being here. He never saw her come outside, but the food he brought would just disappear hours after he placed it. He waits patiently before reaching out his knuckles to knock again, but when the door suddenly opens he takes a quick step back surprised to see Sujin's face. It's clear she's been crying. He looks away, it's a bit unsettling to see her like this. Too raw.

"Let's talk in the living room." He suggests quietly, stepping back and walking towards the couch. Nerves easing minutely as he hears her soft footsteps behind him. He slides into one corner of the couch and watches as she sits on the opposite end. An awkward silence bellows around them as he stares at his hands and she stares at the ceiling. They have both never been the most talkative on a good day, but now it’s painful. 

He clears his throat stilling when he feels her eyes on him, waiting. He had this speech planned in his head for days but now that the moment is actually here, he's terrified. Too nervous to say the words he wants to, does he even have the right to apologize to her now? Does she even want his late apology or will she brush him off? He wouldn't blame her one bit, it had taken him too long and he still hasn't even forgiven himself, how could he expect her to forgive him? 

"Thank you."

He almost misses the quiet utterance because he's so lost in his own self deprecation. They are staring at each other now eyes locked, his own wide in bewilderment.

"What?" He responds caught off guard, he didn't expect Sujin to speak at all-much less for those to be her first words.

"You heard me. Thank you for letting me stay here and for not pressuring me to talk about it."  Sujin awkwardly squirms in her seat, glancing away from him before darting back and she gives him the courage to finally saw what he wanted- no needed to.

"I'm sorry." It's his turn to watch the shock form on her face but he presses on before she can question him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, I knew what was happening but I didn't know how to help. I understand now that just being there would have been enough, you just needed a friend. I'm sorry I wasn't one."

A slight weight lifts off his shoulder and his heart, he's not free but he's one step closer. One step at a time.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We were just kids, what could you have done? It's okay, I never expected you to save me. How could you when you were dealing with your own pain?"

She's giving him an out, and logically she's right the pain of losing his mother crippled him for years. It was still weighing heavy on him to this day but he doesn't want an out, he wants to be accountable. He would rather her rage than her understanding.

"I know you didn't need a savior, but you needed a friend. Am I wrong? Were you okay dealing with everything on your own?" It's a low blow he's aware and the way her eyes narrow further confirm that his question isn't appreciated.

"Am I wrong?" He repeats and watches as the ice around her eyes melt away glacially, too many emotions flashing in her dark orbs- anger, sadness, disappointment, broken acceptance each emotion cutting at his heart.

Leaning forward he grabs at the folder on the table, he's already come this far might as well go all the way now.

"Here." He hands it to her, she raises an eyebrow taking the thick object. "Open it," he nods at the folder watching quietly as she breaks the seal and pulls out the documents, eyes scanning the papers before realization settles.

"Emancipation?" She whispers, now staring at him unblinking he can feel the heft of her undivided attention.

"Yes, we've been doing research and I think the best bet is for you to get emancipated." He winces at himself as she glares at the use of "we", he should have left that out with how distant they've been; she didn't even know that Seojun was the one providing the meals she seemed to love. She might stop eating them if she knew, she was so stubborn sometimes. 

She leaf's through the pages, carefully looking over the document and he sits silently awaiting her reaction.

"He would never allow this. You know that." It's said with certainty as if she's accepted her fate long ago, probably thought of this very option herself and then talked herself out of it.

"I'm going to ask her father to help, he's been supporting your father all these years. If he knew the truth..." He trails off letting her finish the rest and she barks out a humorless laugh, it sounds more like a sob.

"You want to tell your father? They have known each other for years, why would he believe me?"

"He's my dad. He'll believe me. We have to at least try." He pleads now desperate for her agreement. It wasn’t the right thing to say, he knows that instantly. 

Instantly she stands up, slamming the documents on the table the ice restoring around her eyes. "I was fine all those years you were wrong.  I'm not doing this, I don't need your dad's help." She spits the word "dad" like it's poison on her tongue, storming off to the room and slamming the door shut.

He sighs, defeated leaning back onto the couch. He sends a text to his father and Seojun. He failed. 

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Guilt eats at her following her outburst, she wasn't mad at Suho despite her harsh words. She can blame her anger on many things but she's self-aware enough to know that it's a defense mechanism; she was jealous. It was ugly and grotesque, but she cannot stop the way her blood boils when she sees others with parents that care. 

He's my father, he'll believe me.

That would never be her reality, Suho and his father had been able to reconcile and restart their broken relationship. That would never be her truth, her relationship with her father would never resemble something healthy and despite her efforts to repress her true feelings, it hurts. The little girl who desperately wanted to make her dad happy and proud still hadn't died.

She feels stupid, the biggest fool on the planet. How can she still be looking for love from someone who has never shown her anything but hatred? She’s the one with a problem here, she knows that. 

She shouldn't have lashed out especially after his apology, that must have taken true guts and she had thrown it all back in his face. She tries to make amends but every time they cross paths she freezes up and escapes to her borrowed room instead. It continues on for days with him still bringing food to her door and the combination of their kindness is too much for her. She doesn’t deserve it from either of them. 

Tugging on her jacket she leaves the apartment hastily with only a small note on her door. She needs some space to think without feeling suffocated.

Gone for a walk.

It's just her luck that it's raining outside, only a drizzle but it coats the world in a thick fog and it's hard to see. The biggest benefit is that nobody can see her, she just needs time alone to think. 

The idea of emancipation wasn't new to her, she had considered this option before but in the end she discarded it. Her father wasn't someone she would simply leave, he would drag her back kicking and screaming. He had instilled long ago that she was his, it was pointless to have dreams or aspirations, she just needed to follow his orders. That was her purpose. Being an obedient dog. 

Suho's plan also called for revealing her pitiful life, what if she went through this ordeal only to lose and not be given emancipation in the end? No. She couldn't make herself that vulnerable at least now she had her dignity, only two people knew about her secret. It might not be much to others, but her dignity was everything to her; it was all she had left.

Sighing loudly at the skies she mentally curses the weather, maybe it's poetic but all of her worst times have been bookmarked by the rain. It must be a metaphor for her life, damp and cold with no warmth in sight.

Stopping to sit on a bench she stares up at the gray skies before closing her eyes, accepting her fate. "Fine, rain on me. I probably deserve this." Cool raindrops roll down her cheeks imitating tears and she can feel the moisture seeping into her clothes and siphoning her heat.

"Unnie?" She jumps at the voice, sounding too close and she shifts away when she opens her eyes and is greeted by the large bespectacled eyes of Gowoon. The younger girl smiles sweetly, covering her with a pale blue umbrella with ice cream cones decorating it. It’s too innocent and too young the antithesis of everything in her life. 

"Unnie! What are you doing in the rain? You're getting wet!" Gowoon grabs her arm tugging her to her feet using her umbrella to shelter them both. She's shocked when she doesn't bristle at the unexpected and too familiar manhandling. She almost rolls her eyes, what was it with the Han family and finding her during rainstorms? 

"Come on, my house isn't far. I'll make you some soup so you don't catch a cold." The other girl doesn't wait for her reply before she starts pulling her down the sidewalk. She sputters but feels her feet following obediently.

"Oppa is working late, so he won't be there to bother us."

Her heart defiantly jumps at the mention of him, she hasn't seen him in a week. She has dozens of unsent messages to him, cowardice has rendered her fingers useless though. 

"That's good." She lies, "So it'll just be us two?" She's not quite ready to meet any other members of the Han family.

The other girl nods absently, easily easing them into a riveting conversation about a boy at school who won't leave her alone. She offers to beat him up if he keeps on bothering her to which Gowoon laughs gleefully before squealing, "You sound just like Seojun oppa!" She glares at the comparison watching entranced at the young girl's uncontrollable giggles. When was the last time she'd laughed so freely? She had no recollection.

Gowoon wasn't lying and within minutes she's staring at the apartment she's only seen once before. That feels like a lifetime ago.

She immediately regrets her inability to say no to persuasive girl later when they are greeted at the door.

"Gowoon, sweetie is that you?" A maternal voice calls out and she instantly recognizes it, stiffening in the doorway. Stepping back she starts thinking of excuses, but her tongue is too heavy in her mouth and she's too slow as the woman comes around the corner halting her escape. 

She blinks unhurried as the older woman gapes at her clearly not expecting to see anyone besides her daughter.

Gowoon breaks the silence, her voice nonchalant, "Hi mom! This is my unnie Sujin, she's the one who saved me the other day! Is it okay that I brought her here for dinner, I found her in the rain!" Gowoon makes it sound like she picked up a stray puppy outside, but she knows the other girl means no harm. 

Her skin prickles at the question, anxiety filling her stomach without her permission. She's waiting for rejection. For Gowoon’s mother to say that it is not okay and she would rather eat with her daughter without a stranger intruding. 

"Of course! I didn't realize it was the same Sujin." Gowoon looks confused by her mother's statement and she feels embarrassment swarming in her belly. Oh no. She has to stop her before she reveals too much, Gowoon knows nothing and she wants to keep it that way. 

"I didn't realize you knew Sujin too, isn't this Seojun's cru.."

"Classmate!" She suddenly interjects staring at the woman with pleading eyes, she's not ready for Gowoon to know about her brothers “feelings”. She's trying her best to forgot them too.

They both stare at her and she squirms under the scrutiny, before the older woman puts her out of her misery. "Yes, Seojun mentioned her before I didn't realize she was the same person that helped you. Thank you." She freezes as the woman embraces her hand, smiling at her warmly as she thanks her. She can only stare in response, nodding dumbly.

"Come on unnie! I'll get you some warm clothes, you'll catch a cold if you keep wearing those."

She lets herself be tugged into the younger girl’s room. Just like Gowoon the room is bright and vivacious, wall covered in posters and books littering her table. It looks completely normal and it makes her ache, her own room was militarily decorated with nothing out of place and no evidence of her personality. Since she was young her father would inspect it and punish her if anything was untoward. She had stopped trying to make the room look lived in after seeing poster after poster thrown down. 

"Here unnie. You can borrow this." Her eyes bulge at a familiar blue shirt with a puppy on the front. "I know it's so embarrassing but oppa got it for me, it's really warm though." In the end he'd gotten her to wear the ridiculous shirt, she reluctantly goes off to change into the top and leggings. They are the same baby blue hue, making the outfit look like a set. She's thankful the boy isn't here to see her.

"Well don't you look adorable?" Seojun's mom coos at her when she finally comes out of the bathroom, she desperately wants to disappear. The woman must notice her ruby cheeks because she turns with a smile calling out to her daughter, "Gowoon! Come help with dinner!"

Now changed too, into cactus pajamas the younger girl bounds out grabbing an apron and tying it behind her back.

"What are are we making?" She curiously peeks over her mom's shoulder. The air between the mother and daughter is comfortable, the two leaning into each other naturally as they discuss what to make for dinner. She observes with a heavy heart as Gowoon easily puts her head on her mom's shoulder and the woman strokes her cheek lovingly. Something inside her throbs in response.

"Do you want to help?"

Shaking her head to clear the longing she looks at their mom, who's looking back at her with soft eyes already holding out another apron.

She can't control herself her yearning is too large, she stands without hesitation walking to the woman, sucking in a breath when the apron is placed over her shoulders and then tightened snuggly.

"We're making wonton soup. Have you ever made dumplings before sweetie?"

She looks at Gowoon waiting for her reply but then realizes that both pair of eyes are on her and oh, she's talking to her. She called her sweetie. Swallowing thickly she shakes her head before replying, "No. I've never made them before." She waits to be berated or at least chastised for her lack of culinary skills, her father always said a woman's place was in the kitchen.

Nothing happens. The woman hums before smiling again, she's always smiling it's so pretty. She wishes she had the courage to say the words aloud. She doesn't.

"You can help Gowoon chop the vegetables for the filling. Then we can mix it with the ground pork and I'll show you how to make the dumplings." If the woman is disappointed at all at having to teach her she's doing an incredible job of concealing her frustrations.

She accepts the knife when Gowoon hands it to her, both of them working on a wooden cutting board. They've gotten into somewhat of a rhythm slicing the chives and carrots finely for the filling. She'd never chopped vegetables before but their mom had casually stood behind her shocking her so much she almost dropped the knife, but the older woman had easily caught the utensil before holding her hand and manually showing her how to tuck her fingers and mince the vegetables. She froze before imitating the woman, she was good at replicating acts.

"That looks great sweetie! You're a fast learner!" The woman praised her turning back to the broth and adding more seasoning liberally. She preened under the attention smiling shyly before Gowoon shouted out loudly, "What about me mom? How do mine look?" They both looked at the younger girl's unevenly chopped chives and carrots, next to Sujin's perfectly identical veggies all in an even row. The difference between the two is stark. 

"They look fine dear, they'll be hidden in the dumplings anyway." Her mother tries to soothe her ego, patting her shoulder before turning back to her soup dismissively and a burst of laughter explodes from her chest at the offended look on Gowoon's face, her cheeks are red and her mouth is turned down in an exaggerated frown. The younger girl looks positively livid that her mother is not similarly singing her praises and she starts to defiantly chop more vegetables, only to have them come out even worst; even more lopsided and haggard. 

She tries to tamper her laugh but when the younger girl starts whining, crying about how her veggies were “cousins not siblings” she loses it, clutching at the counter for balance. She feels the air bursting from her lungs as she clutches at her stomach, laughing harder when Gowoon glares at her pout on her lips. The older woman joins her rubbing her daughter's back as she cries about her dignity, and then Gowoon looks at them both laughing at her and a smile spreads on her face and soon they are all laughing in the kitchen, soup bubbling beside them as a delicious aroma permeates the room.

None of them hear the front door opening or a deep voice announcing its arrival.

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He's cold, tired and wet. Once again missing the forecast for rain, he really needed to start carrying an umbrella around all the time. What was up with the weather lately anyway? Why was it raining all the damn time?  He absently thinks of a certain someone and hopes she's somewhere warm out of the rain. They always seemed to meet when the sky was pouring and raging. 

It was hard not contacting her but he wanted to listen to her requests and respect her wishes no matter how hard it was for him, it was also getting pathetic being the only one fighting for this. She hadn't outright rejected him after his confession but her silence was an answer in itself and he wanted to respect that. He wasn't too manly to admit that he was hurt, and he was reeling from being pushed away so many times already.

So he followed his mother's advice, he'd given her something that he knew she needed and expected nothing in return.

All week he'd been waking up early to cook for the girl, reading recipes off his phone  fluffy cat headband on his head keeping his fringe out of his eyes. The easier recipes like soup and grilled meats had been simple enough to accomplish but when he ventured into more complicated bento boxes that's when frustrations had arose. They looked so easy but they were tedious and he wasn’t the most patient or detail oriented person. 

He struggled to recreate the detailed meals and almost gave up,  throwing his phone across the room.

That's how his mother had found him, fuming and tugging his hair on the kitchen table. Seconds away from bashing his head into the surface and screaming at the ceiling. 

"What are you doing up so early?" He jumped at her voice, looking around at the mess he'd made in the kitchen with wide guilty eyes.

"I-I can explain." He stuttered out but couldn't come up with a feasible answer once she looked at him expectantly, arms folded. The patented mom stare. 

She had calmly walked across the room picking up his discarded phone, peering at the screen before looking back at him.

"Is this for your friend?" She shook the phone at him knowingly and he pressed his lips tight together, nodding mutely while looking away.

"Okay let's see what you have so far." His mom walked over and assessed what he had already made, nodding with a proud smile. "You did good so far, let me show you how to make a hotdog into an octopus. I did this for you all the time when you were a kid."

He was grateful when she didn't ask him any questions and it became their morning ritual, until he no longer needed guidance and he was able to make the boxes on his own. The satisfaction he felt when Suho would return the containers, clean as a whistle not even a grain of rice remaining was incomparable. It wasn't much but at least she was eating, that was all he needed even if she didn't want to see him or know that he was the one making her meals.

He sighs at himself, he told himself not to think about her but that was proving easier said than done.

Shaking himself at the front door like a wet dog, he tugs his keys from the back pocket of his jeans slotting it on the doorknob and turning.

"I'm home!" He calls out instinctively announcing his arrival as he toes off his drenched boots, but then his eyebrow lifts as he hears peals of laughter coming from the kitchen. He chuckles without knowing the joke, instantly rejuvenated by his family's abundant joy. Slipping on his slippers after hesitating a second because he doesn't recognize the shoe at the front door. When did Gowoon get those and how the hell was his little sister affording Chanel sneakers?

Those thoughts are swarming in his mind when he stomps to the kitchen, all the air sucked from his lungs when he sees an unbelievable vision. His mother and sister are grasping at each other, lost in laughter completely unaware of his presence but the image that most shocks him is Sujin, holding her stomach as she spots something on the counter that sets her off into another bout of boisterous laughter.

He can't help it he starts to categorize her every move, the way her eyes are crinkled and a stray tear is leaking out the corner, the way her nose is scrunched up like a rabbit and the way her mouth is stretched wide, visible even behind the futile shield of her hand. All of his thoughts from earlier regarding not needing to see her dissipate, he wants to tattoo this image in his mind.

"Oh! You're here!" His mother suddenly turns to face him and that causes Sujin to freeze laughter fading off with a whine, regarding him with huge bright eyes. It's almost too much once he notices what she's wearing, he wasn't prepared to see her like this in his house. It's overwhelming in the best way.

"I'm home. I'll go change and come help." Both his mother and Gowoon nod easily no longer paying him any mind but he can feel eyes on him as he runs away, trying to regain his composure and his breath. He purposely avoids Sujin's eyes not ready to see if the walls are back up at his arrival.

When he comes back out the table is already set and they've all taken a seat, the only available chair is between his mom and Sujin, so he takes a calming breath before walking over with fake confidence. He’s used to faking it until he makes it. That could be the name of his biography. 

He answers his family's questions about work and school blowing on the soup before taking a bite of the slightly lopsided dumpling. What it's lacking in appearance it more than makes up for in flavor, he groans at the delicious flavor that dances on his taste buds looking up excitedly at his mom.

"These dumplings are delicious! Thank you for the meal!" He praises his mom, happily chewing at the soft delicacy in his mouth.

"Thank you Junnie, but I didn't make the dumplings. They worked on the filling together but Sujin-ah seasoned and filled the dumplings while I made the broth and your sister helped with the side dishes." His mother smiles proudly over at the two girls, Gowoon beaming with pride but Sujin, almost disappears into her soup her head so close to the steaming hot bowl.

They haven’t said anything to each other and he's nervous to be the one to break this stalemate but he also really wants to talk to her, has wanted to since he stepped through the door and saw her smiling face. Has wanted to since that night he stormed out and didn't look back. So finally he does, gathering all his bravery to finally look over at her.

"The dumplings are great." And when she doesn't look up or seemingly react at all, he tells himself he's fine and he expected that. She wasn't ready to talk to him yet, it was his own fault for hoping when she'd explicitly told him to stop doing that.

So he goes back to eating, more lethargic than before eyes locked on nothing but his food and his spoon. It was embarrassing. He knows his cheeks are pink and he hates it.

"Thank you. I just followed your mom's directions. It was nothing."

He pauses, peeking up at her and almost choking when she shoots him a small smile before filling her bowl with more rice.

His heart thumps in his chest. Fuck.

He doesn't hear anything else the rest of the meal, too lost in his thoughts and it's only familiarity that has him standing up when everyone is finished, collecting the plates and bringing them to the sink.

"It's almost time for Sunbae, don’t wear those high heels!!" Gowoon shouts, he cringes at the name of the new drama they've been obsessively watching, he'd only tuned in one time before flabbergasted by the exorbitant amount of times the female protagonist had fallen into the arms of various men but especially the male lead. She fell off a balcony into his arms that time, with neither of them needing to be admitted to the hospital somehow. His mother and Gowoon had both hushed him when he'd voiced that particular opinion and he had happily banished himself to his room.

"Oh no, I'm going to miss it because I'm washing the dishes." He replies deadpan as his sister rolls her eyes dramatically at him, "Whatever it's your loss. Let's go I want to see if she's going to choose the sweet bad boy or the cold cute guy!"

He scoffs at the cliché characterizations scrubbing harder at the plate.

"Come on unnie!" Sujin gasps as she's tugged to the living room too, glancing over he sees his little sister place her in the middle of the couch sandwiched between her and his mother. Sujin looks overwhelmed as Gowoon animatedly tries to catch her up on the series. He shakes his head, maybe the show wasn't that bad. He could watch a few minutes with them.

He strolls casually to the living room, easing onto the ground beside his mother's legs after all the dishes are clean and drying.

"What are you doing here? I thought you despised this "cringey" show?" He leans his head back, sighing when his mother eases her fingers into his hair scratching at his scalp and he sighs content in her lap.

"I do. But it's too early to sleep so I have no choice but to watch this crap."

"Mom! He said crap!"

"Watch your language."

His mother scolds him immediately and Gowoon sticks out her tongue at him vindicated because he got in trouble and immaturely he does it back, tugging off her sock much to her chagrin, dodging her when she tries to kick him.

Sujin looks back and forth between them both before discretely looking at their mother, she seems shocked when all the woman does is chuckle and say, "Children please. Do I need to remind you that we have a guest?" He looks away bashfully not wanting to look childish in front of Sujin, he hadn't thought about that. That makes them settle down and he finally looks at the TV, groaning loudly when low and behold the heroine is falling again, tripping over a candy wrapper on the ground.

"She falls a lot. She should probably wear protective gear." Sujin says breaking their new silence and he chuckles at her observation, happy that someone agrees with him, excitedly he turns to her "Right! Last time she fell off a balcony!" He shouts in disbelief and suddenly they're all arguing about the feasibility of someone surviving that. His mother shaking her head fondly at them, choosing to say out of it which makes Gowoon pout because she's outnumbered.

"Okay who would you choose Unnie, the tsundere type or the bad boy with a heart of gold?" Suddenly he's very invested in her answer, he tries not to react staring at the ceiling and breathing evenly but inside his heart is thundering ready to pound out of his chest.

A few seconds drag on and he wonders if she's not going to answer, he doesn't even know why he cares so much but curiously is gripping at him. He knows that this doesn't mean anything necessarily and he's not getting his hopes up but--

"The sweet guy. He just looks like a bad boy but he's sweet to her, he never says anything mean to her. That would be nice." She answers, trailing off at the end and he hears Gowoon instantly disagreeing saying the other guy is way better, but he can barely hear his sister over the thumping of his heart in his ears, he can't help the wide smile that spreads on his face. 

He turns to hide it in his mom's lap.

It doesn't leave his face the rest of the night.

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It's getting late, she knows that it's time for her to take her leave she's been imposing on them for too long but....she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to leave, they are so warm. She's never seen a family like this outside of television shows, how was it possible that this was their real life? How could they have a mother who was that loving? Everything they did was greeted with fond exasperation, where was the reprimanding or cold backhanded words that cut like a knife?

She'd even treated her kindly, calling her sweetie more than she said her name. And she got used to it similar to how she'd gotten used to Seojun calling her princess, she knew she should fight it but she didn't want to. She was ashamed to say she liked it. 

She tries to soak it up for as long as she can before she says reluctantly, "I should probably go. it's getting late." Then she watches in a daze as the woman races off before returning with containers stacked and tied in a bag.

Before she can argue or refuse their mom is already shaking her head, "You made this so it's only right that you take it home. I won't take no for an answer." At this point that should have been the Han family motto she thinks fondly. But she accepts the food, bowing in gratitude at the simple act of kindness.

"Unnie, can I have your number? I just realized I don't have it and we're so close!" Gowoon thrusts her phone out with two hands, giving her the biggest puppy eyes she's ever seen. Without a word she accepts the phone, punching in her number before handing it back. She hadn’t realized the girl considered them close, but she finds that she doesn’t mind it at all. 

"Thank you! I'll text you so you can have my number too." The younger girl dances in celebration before grabbing her in a hug, she awkwardly pats her on the back once before she's finally set free. They're all so naturally affectionate and she's not the least bit accustomed to it, used to harsh words and slaps instead of praises and hugs.

"Get home safely sweetie. Junnie! Where did you go? Come walk her home!" She rushes to say it's okay she doesn't need an escort home, she's fine walking by herself it truly wasn't that far it turned out. But Seojun comes out of his room, changed again with a coat on and a beanie. Walking over to them he thrusts a sweater at her, when she looks blankly he replies sounding defensive, "It's probably colder now. Put this on too." He pushes it at her again firmer and she grabs it, gasping when their fingers brush.

It's a thick dark green sweater with fleece lining the interior and it smells just like his earthy cologne, she wants to give it back. Instead she puts it on over her borrowed long sleeve shirt from Suho and feels like a child playing dress up when it reaches the bottom of her knees. She knows what he's thinking when he smirks at her, she wasn't short he was just a damn giant.

She takes off the slippers and slides back into her sneakers, thankful that they're dry now. She's distracted by Seojun's heat, he's so close to her putting on his own boots. So much so she nearly misses what his mother says, "Get home safely. Please come again soon, I need more maturity in this house." Seojun and Gowoon both shout affronted but all she can see is the genuine smile on her face, she finds herself nodding throat too thick for words. When she's pulled into another hug, this time she has to blink away tears arms still by her side. She’s vibrating from keeping her emotions contained. 

They are walking side by side, the sounds of the city filling the silence that would be present. Every once in a while their arms brush but he moves away after the third time and she feels cold, more so than when the wind blows.

They're getting closer to Suho's apartment and she's wrecking her brain to find something to say to him, knowing that the ball is in her court; it always has been. She's just terrified to swing her racket. What if she misses? Or trips and embarrasses herself? It was usually better to just do nothing then you wouldn't be disappointed.

With each step she loses more courage until they are standing in front of the building and she still hasn't said anything.

Coward.

They stand awkwardly looking at the building pointedly avoiding each other and she finally speaks, "Oh your sweater! Here you go." She says stupidly, not at all what she wanted to say but she starts to pull the sweater off to commit to her exclamation. However he steps back shaking his head at her.

"It's cold. Just wear it upstairs. I'll get it later from Suho, you won't have to see me again. Go up." He sounds deflated, nothing like the animated jokester she'd seen just minutes at his apartment. It aches that she's the one making him act this way.

Then he turns around after looking at her, all of the light drained from his eyes.

He takes three large steps, putting immeasurable space between them in no time and she knows that if she lets him walk away right now he might not come back and that's a gut wrenching thought that makes her chase after him.

Thoughtlessly, she grabs his arm halting his exit from her life.

"Wait!" She shouts, but at the first touch of her hand on his forearm he's already frozen, still in her arms. He doesn't turn around. She shoots him a silent mental thank you, even if it's not his intention it's much easier to say what's on her mind like this without him facing her and her feeling too open and vulnerable. 

"I know you're the one making me food." There was supposed to be a thank you somewhere in there but instead she ends up sounding accusatory, and he tenses instantly his arm tight in her grasp.

"I'll stop. I know you told me to leave you alone. I--just. There's no excuse. I'll stop."

His voice is strained and this is going all wrong already, she's ruining everything.

Letting go of his arm, she sidesteps and brazenly moves directly in front of him. She can't keep hiding from this. She needed to be vulnerable, that was the only way he could understand.

His eyes are wet.

She gasps at the sight, not expecting it and so jealous at his ability to just feel and be seen. She was always hiding from everything. 

"Don't."

He doesn't give her a chance to finish.

"Sujin. Let me go. I know already, I know it all. I can't like you, I shouldn't get my hopes up, I need to mind my business. I know it all!" He shouts, pain marring his face but she notices how he still tugs his arm free gently, still careful about harming her even while he’s breaking down. 

She doesn’t deserve this. 

This is all her fault she knows that to be an objective truth, but the way he throws her own words back at her makes her realize how cruel she'd been while trying to spare him. She hadn't spared anything, the pain in his eyes and voice makes that abundantly clear.

"Don't stop. Don't give up on me." She finishes, staring at him with her own wet eyes, tears prickling at them.

His shoulders sink as he stares at her, lost and hesitant. 

"I'm sorry. I’m sorry for saying those things to you.  I can't promise I won't push you away again. I'm...I'm fucked up Seojun-ah. I'm a fucking mess. But I want to stop, I don't want to push people away."

I don't want to push you away. But she’s still too much of a coward to say that out loud. 

"Sujin, what-what are you trying to say?" He looks at her with guarded eyes, not yet ready to believe the words coming out of her mouth.

"I want to be friends."

She watches him wrestle with her sentence, hurt being covered up by a façade and she's not obtuse, she knows that's not the answer he was hoping for. Knows he thinks she's friend zoning and clipping the wings of his feelings.

"That's all I can deal with right now. I have a lot to work on, I need to work on me." It may seem like a cop out, an excuse but it's the most honest she's ever been with herself, it's not that she doesn't like him she might- if the way her heart thumps when he’s around says anything- but more importantly she has realized that she doesn’t like herself.

"Right now." He repeats in awe, she blinks confused before realizing the implications of her words, she starts sputtering trying to backtrack but he's too quick beating her to the punch.

"I can do friends. For now." She blushes at the beaming smile on his face, his happiness over such a small acquiesce is too much. Why did he have to wear his heart so obviously on his sleeves?

They stand simply staring at each other. Locked in the moment.

She might need to remind her heart that they'd only agreed to be friends.

For now.

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I don't like onions.

She doesn't know what possesses her to text him first, or what compels her to send that particular message. She starts googling if there's a way to unsend messages, instead finding stories from others regaling their own embarrassing messages and finding solace that she isn't alone in this feeling. 

She jumps when her phone vibrates. Slowly turning it over like it's a ticking bomb.

Of course you'd be a picky eater. Onions are good for you.

She rolls her eyes at the message, he was such a nagger.

It's not good if I don't enjoy it.

Alright princess, noted. No more onions. Are you okay with chicken teriyaki tomorrow?

She recalls the delicious chicken teriyaki he'd made for her just days ago, it was succulent and juicy and she'd fought Suho over it, reminding him that this was her food and she replies quickly.

Yes! Do you have more kimchi?

I do. I'll pack some.

She stares at the phone, in disbelief at the how easy it is to talk to him again, like there was an empty spot in her life, a Seojun shaped gap that was now filled once more. She wasn't fixed, she had meant what she told him; she couldn't examine her feelings for him yet. But she needed him in her life, he was there when she needed someone and now no one else would do.

I missed you.

[rainywritingsx]

scenario: Beelzebub & Asmodeus trying to get reader back

Request: wOAH your cheater head cannons were AMAZING dude!! if you want, could you write the rest of the brothers? or if that's too much could you do beel and asmo trying their hardest to get MC to forgive them but it just doesn't work and MC gets with someone else and it's super a n g s t y ?

ahh thank you so so much!! Seriously, to everyone who read that, I was so surprised by the response it received. I’m not very experienced with writing angst which is why I was actually terrified of posting it at all since I was worried I might’ve been too dramatic. But all of the positive feedback made me feel at ease, so thank you all so much for giving the scenarios this much love!

I only write for a maximum of 3 characters per request, I’m sorry :/ buuttt this means I will write part 2 for Asmo and Beel! Also you didn’t specify who this other person would be so,,, I decided to use one of the undateables, since I’ve been playing the game for a longer time now and kinda figured out their characters. Also,,,, the thought of MC ending up with one of the other brothers hurts me oof

++ I just noticed that I kinda went somewhere else with your request, I’m so sorry. I only realised this afterwards and well, throwing this away completely isn’t really what I want to do ;-; my dearest apologies, I’ll make sure to be more careful nex time. Now, have fun reading, I hope you’re still able to enjoy it despite the fact that I kind of changed it up a bit!

Total word count: 2498

Beelzebub

To say the demon was absolutely devastated, would be an understatement. His sadness had gotten to the point where his appetite was way less than usual, which did not go unnoticed by the other brothers. They all got worried about him.

It got to the point where Belphegor was fed up with it, which he made clear to his twin brother. They were now in their room, Beel was just staring at the wall without saying anything. His eyes were teary and his cheeks were puffy. The sight was heartbreaking, but Belphie was tired of this and worried, because it’s been at least a week since you two broke up and he hadn’t gotten any better. So he knew something had to change now.

“Beel, listen up,” Belphegor said, his voice low but sharp. Beelzebub looked at Belphegor, indicating that he could go on. “You can’t keep being like this. I get that you’re sad but this won’t get you anywhere. You miss y/n and want her back? Then you have to work for it. She’s not going to come back to you if you don’t even put effort into showing how sorry you are. Stupid humans aren’t that smart.”

Beel didn’t reply for a while, taking in his brother’s words. Belphegor let out an annoyed sigh before mumbling quietly “I’m gonna take a nap.” He didn’t wait for his twin brother to reply and soon dozed off into a deep slumber.

Beelzebub tried his best to concentrate, but his never-ending hunger seemed to be unbearable right now. He made the decision to go to the kitchen and find some food in the fridge to eat. However, even on his way to the kitchen Beel couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. Since they had broken up with him, he had barely seem them. It seemed they either ate breakfast early as a way to avoid him and at school he barely had any chances to talk to them either. So how was he going to be able to apologise to them? He had to find a way to be with them alone. But what was he even going to do? What was he going to say? A small pout had formed on his face at this point as he looked through the fridge for something tasty.

Upon seeing his custard, his face lit up. And that was also the moment he realised what he could do for y/n. When they were still together, the two would hang out very often and there were so many times where they’d eat custard together, to the point where Beel did not eat it alone anymore. It showed how much he cared about them, as he didn’t share his custard that easily. It also felt like a thing the two of them had at this point. So when Beel grabbed the custard and devoured it, he felt empty. It was different now that he was eating it on his own.

He knew it. He was going to buy the two of them custard, ask y/n to hang out with him and if they don’t want to he will give them space. If they do want to however, he will give them the little surprise and talk to them. He just had to find the right moment. And while on one hand Beel wanted to wait, his heart told him to do it as soon as possible.

“Tomorrow it is, then.” he mumbled to himself.

The next day Beelzebub felt nervous. It had been a while since he talked to y/n and he had no idea how they were feeling right now. But he wouldn’t know unless he tried to find out, right?

So, after their classes, during lunch, he couldn’t take it anymore and tried looking for y/n. He was thinking they were maybe with Mammon, so he tried to find him. Though, when he did find his brother, he noticed he was alone.

“Lookin’ for Y/n?” Mammon asked. Beel almost slightly flinched at how sharp his tone was. It was clear that Mammon was angry at him for what he had done. Without saying a word he nodded.

“I think I saw them walkin’ somewhere with Asmo, towards his locker.” Beel nodded and quickly thanked his brother before leaving to find Y/n. He knew where Asmodeus’ locker was, or at least the area it was at so it wasn’t very difficult to find. When he found them a small smile played on his lips. However, as he took more and more steps forward, he saw that Asmo wasn’t the only one accompanying them. Solomon was there too. He had an arm wrapped around Y/n’s shoulder and laughed as he pressed a kiss to their cheek. Beel could feel his heart drop at the sight. He wasn’t expecting this at all and felt incredibly hurt.

Asmodeus somehow caught sight of his brother, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw his heartbroken standing there like a sad puppy who had just been kicked. Y/n and Solomon noticed their friend looking at something, so they turned their gaze into the direction he was facing. But before the two could see him, Beel quickly walked back.

“Asmo, is something wrong?” Y/n asked, their voice laced with concern. The demon was caught off guard by the question, not even realising he was staring but then smiled and nodded.

“Oh yes! I just suddenly remembered I forgot to close my purple nail polish jar in my room, I’m sure it’s all dried up now.”

“Oh that’s okay! How about we buy a new one after school? I have to get some stuff anyway. Solomon does too, right babe?” Y/n said and looked up at their boyfriend with a small smile. The boy nodded in agreement.

“Alright, sounds great!” Asmo nodded and smiled at the two. Soon his thoughts drifted back to his brother. While Asmodeus definitely did not think what he did was okay, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He was still his brother. Part of him wanted to check up on him but he felt like Beel probably needed time alone to process what he had seen.

In the meantime, Beelzebub was walking towards the cafeteria, shoulders hung low, gaze towards the ground and eyes filled with tears. Y/n had the right to move on, of course they did. He just wasn’t prepared to see it happening already. He felt like now there was no way of getting them back.

Of course Y/n would rather be with Solomon. He was a human just like them, they’d be able to live their regular life in their own world while also having a boyfriend. Of course they wouldn’t want a sinful demon like him. He decided to just give up. Maybe it was best for them both, or it was just best for Y/n. He wasn’t sure. But he knew they were happier with Solomon than with him. He saw a sparkle in their eyes, the one that had left when Y/n caught him cheating on them. Anyone that could make them that happy was worthy of being with them to Beel.

But if it was the right thing, why did it still hurt this much? The emptiness that he felt was bigger than any hunger he had felt in his entire life. But he had to accept it because at the end of the day, it was his own fault for making that horrible mistake.

Asmodeus

To any outsider, Asmo seemed completely fine, as if he wasn’t sad at all. But his brothers all knew it was the exact opposite. Asmodeus tried doing even more self care, went shopping even more than usual and spent an extra amount of times around succubi and witches. It was all to get Y/n off of his mind because as soon as soon as he would get to the house of Lamentation and had nothing to do, thoughts about them filled his head. Something in him wanted to find them and almost beg them to take him back, but there’s this other part of him that’s incredibly ashamed of himself.

And as mentioned before, his brothers could notice his change in mood. Though they condemned his actions, he was still their brother and they couldn’t  just ignore him. Of course Asmo was going to make some very stupid mistakes with heavy consequences, but he would learn from those.

So at one point Satan made the decision to talk to his brother about the problem that hadn’t been talked about just yet. Satan knew Asmo regretted what he did and wanted Y/n back and he also knew that his brother was stuck on what to do now.

“How have you been, Asmo?” Satan asked as he entered his brother’s room after having knocked on the door. The younger demon quickly forced a smile as he looked at his brother, hoping that he would fall for his trick. But knowing Satan, it wouldn’t be long before he noticed Asmo’s facade. Still, he wanted to try.

“I’ve been doing great Satan! Oh, I bought some new makeup and accessories today and some would look lovely on you! Wanna try them on?”

“That does sound nice, but I need to talk to you about something right now.” Asmodeus could feel himself sulking as he knew where this conversation was heading. He also was aware of the fact that avoiding it would be pointless, so he decided not to protest and just nodded.

“We’ve all been worried about you Asmo. Of course I do know how you are, but we can all tell that something is off.” Asmodeus bit his lip as he averted his gaze, his eyes falling on a shirt that seemed to have fallon the ground. And of course, it was Y/n’s… They had probably left it here once and forgot to bring it back.

His brother’s eyes followed the direction in which he was looking, and he quickly realised what the piece of clothing was.

“Hey, how about you bring it back to them and talk about what happened?” Satan proposed. Asmo shook his head immediately, not wanting to be confronted with his disgusting actions again. He was already ashamed of what he had done.

“Satan, they will never forgive me. I hurt them so badly even though I never meant to. There is no way that this will be fixed.” Satan sighed softly and shook his head at his brother's words.

“But hey, you’re Asmodeus, aren’t you? Who can resist you? Who can not love you? Has anyone truly hated you for a long time?” He edged on, knowing that Asmo needed little confidence boosts like this. He knew these would cheer him up eventually, it just took some time and patience.

“Well there was a witch one time…. no nevermind she forgave me after 100 years so it ended up totally fine.” His brother chuckled and nodded.

“See? And on top of that, humans have a shorter lifespan, so I think everything will be okay soon. Y/n definitely loved you while you two were together and I find it hard to imagine that they have lost all of their feelings for you by now.”  Satan could be right… After all, he was very smart, so he would not say something if he hadn’t thought about it or hadn’t put some logic to it. Perhaps he was right. Maybe trying to talk it out was a good idea. If they wouldn’t take him back, maybe they could still be at least friends. But first he had to find them of course.

“Do you happen to know if Y/n is here?” Asmo asked Satan, who pondered for a moment before replying.

“I think they went somewhere with Luke, Simeon and Mammon. They said they’d be back soon though.” Mammon too? That was an interesting combination. “Mammon went along because ‘a weak human and two angels aren’t safe here’” Asmo chuckled, yeah that does sound like Mammon and explains a lot.

“Well, I will be taking my leave now then. Tell me how it went later, okay?”

While Asmo waited for Y/n, he could slowly feel a slight feeling of anxiety creeping in. He hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. It scared him a little even. He always felt like he was in control in some way, since it was always people fawning over him, being nervous around him, but now it seemed to be the other way around. How could a mortal human have this influence on him? Maybe it was their presence, their uniqueness, he didn’t know. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was.

However, he didn’t have more time to think about it now, because he heard the sound of a few voices in a conversation. Immediately his head perked up and he couldn’t help but smile when his eyes caught Y/n walking in his direction. That smile fell soon though, because then his gaze fell on the angel walking next to them. He was holding their hand as his eyes looked lovingly into theirs. He knew exactly what that look meant, and the fact that Y/n had a similar sparkle in their eyes said a lot.

Asmodeus felt defeated. He wasn’t expecting this and maybe that was why it hurt so much. The two radiated so much joy. It seemed like Y/n was completely healed from the pain Asmo had caused them. Soon his throat felt dry and his eyes quickly filled with tears. Before anyone noticed, Asmo quickly went to his room and locked the door before plopping down on his bed. He finally let out sobs which he tried to muffle by covering his hand with his mouth.

Why was he even crying? He was the one who hurt them. This was his fault, not theirs. He was the last person who was allowed to cry over this. But still, he couldn’t help but feel his heart crumble when he tried to process what he saw. They moved on. He messed up and now there was definitely no way that they were going to take him back. And he only had himself to blame for this mess.