#sat on my chair for like 3 hours drawing and I have now developed an acne spot on my leg from this lmao

[unanchored-ship]

aaaah just a quick thing I did for school... its about the book I Must Betray You by Ruta Sepetys

[smutbymia]

classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno: 

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few. 

        You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment. 

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height. 

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?” 

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out. 

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project. 

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze. 

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice. 

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path. 

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat. 

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face. 

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides. 

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen. 

JENO: It’s Jeno 

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm. 

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply. 

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want. 

JENO: Just be there we have work to do. 

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun. 

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich. 

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at. 

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered. 

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school. 

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back. 

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen. 

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.  

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes. 

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing. 

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons. 

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you. 

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off. 

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer. 

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment 

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything. 

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you. 

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression. 

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you. 

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back. 

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke. 

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin. 

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip. 

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this. 

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot. 

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured. 

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He  stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes. 

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee. 

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against. 

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.  

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him. 

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving. 

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact. 

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable. 

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.” 

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts. 

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder. 

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned. 

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned. 

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast. 

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin. 

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking. 

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed. 

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure. 

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you. 

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over. 

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room. 

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth. 

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body. 

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...” 

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs. 

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers. 

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms. 

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression. 

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing. 

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself. 

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly. 

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out. 

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate. 

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power. 

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate. 

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment. 

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned. 

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off. 

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face. 

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly. 

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night. 

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him. 

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you. 

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties. 

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane. 

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven. 

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as  he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there. 

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely. 

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer. 

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him. 

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence. 

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping. 

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression. 

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips. 

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms. 

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips. 

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace. 

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words. 

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile. 

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum. 

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin. 

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

     it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream. 

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more. 

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again. 

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious. 

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash. 

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently. 

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno. 

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered. 

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said. 

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him. 

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for. 

[boldlyvoid]

Hypothetically | Chapter 16-20

summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

A/N: Set between seasons 4 and 6, not following canon. all original crimes based on real-life stories.

Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy

Word Count: 10k

chapter 16

It was 7 am when they got the call. Y/N had barely gotten any sleep that night, Spencer was adamant that laying on the left side helps maximize blood flow. Meaning she faced the wall all night with him happily cuddled into her back. She hated it.

Between peeing 100 times a day and the constant heartburn, she couldn’t really pick the worst part about creating a human.

It fuckin’ sucked and no one thought to warn her.

She dragged herself out of bed, trying her best to do her morning routine with only one eye open. Spencer, on the other hand, seemed to bounce out of bed like he slept 12 hours. Dancing around the kitchen as he poured his coffee and took a smoothie out of the fridge for Y/N.

He fed the cat, changed the litter and even took out the garbage by the time she pulled herself from the bathroom and to her closet.

Her jeans didn’t fit, she let herself take a minute to cry out of frustration in the closet before she looked for anything presentable. The only pants she could get into were a pair of leggings, and at that point, she didn’t care anymore. She was probably going to stay back with Penelope anyway.

She threw on an FBI sweater to hide her bump from the rest of her co-workers, grabbed the rest of her shit and followed Spencer to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and immediately closing her eyes again.

“Wake me up when we’re at Quantico,” she told him. Leaning against the window, ignoring the world.

Maternity parking was the only bonus, she only had to walk 4 feet from her car to the elevator. She felt lazy, but she was allowed to.

“Hopefully,” Spencer finally spoke to her as they entered the elevator. “At the end of this week, your energy should return as your placenta is done developing. You’re the most tired right now because your organs are working 3 times harder than they’re used to.”

“I’m tired because I had nothing to cuddle with all night, but thanks for the insight,” she tried her best to be cheery.

The door dinged, opening to the rest of the team standing in the entryway. “What’s up?” Y/N asked them.

“Hotch got a call, we’ve got a weird one coming in, he’s in his office talking to someone right now,” Morgan said. He looked just as tired as Y/N.

“Are we going in?” She asked, walking past them and towards the bullpen.

She rushed through the room and waddled up the stairs, searching for a chair before she actually passed out. Everyone followed her soon after, patting her back as they walked around the table to their seats.

“Over the past few months 6 feet have washed up on different beaches along the coast of Maine,” Penelope started explaining the case while Hotch was still on the phone in his office.

“6 feet belonging to 6 different people, all incredibly hard to identify. Interpol, Europol, the RCMP and the FBI have all been in communication with each other as no one knows where the feet washed in from. International Water laws prohibit just one of us from taking jurisdiction until we identify the nationality of the victims.”

“How are we going to Identify the feet?” Prentiss asked.

“We’re currently running the DNA against missing persons along the east coast as well as anyone who recently travelled to North America by boat, so far we don’t have any matches. We do know all 6 feet are white so hopefully, hopefully,” Garcia repeated for extra magic help, “this isn’t a refugee transport gone wrong.”

“We’ve been seeing an increase of boating accidents from Syrian refugees recently,” Spencer added. “The wars in the middle east are continuing to push people from their homes in mass numbers, meaning a lot of the boats are overpacked and capsize mid extraction.”

“So we’re probably looking at someone from North America who is using their own boat to sail out and release victims,” Y/N added. “Do we have the ME reports on the 6 feet?”

“Oh, yeah,” Garcia said, flipping through papers and handing them to her.

She read it over carefully, trying to see through her new blurred vision. Another wonderful pregnancy symptom. “Normally when feet wash up on shore, they’re in shoes. If a body is lost in a boating accident or drowning, the rubber soles will always want to float to the surface. When a body is decaying in water long enough the bones will separate, and when the ankle bone goes, the feet float to the surface,” Y/N explained.

“How do you just know that?” Rossi asked.

“In Nevada, we had a lot of drownings in a man-made lake, people would get stuck at the bottom on tree roots. And every year a few feet would wash up,” she added. “I only explained that because it says in the ME report that the feet were cut with a sharp blade, all clean cuts with no shoes or socks. So someone is cutting these bodies up and bringing them out to sea, probably to use as bait for a big catch.”

“It’s weird to me that the feet are the only parts washing up?” JJ’s face was absolutely puzzled as she flipped through the files.

“Not really,” Y/N argued, “I’m more concerned with why he’d even cut the feet, to begin with. With most shark attacks they go for full limbs, if I was the unsub and I was cutting the body up for bait, I wouldn’t make the pieces so small. There isn’t enough blood or flesh on feet to entice a large fish or shark to take it.”

Rossi was tapping his fingers against the table, “Do you think he wants us to find the feet?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good.”

Then, Hotch finally walked in. “Which 3 of you want to travel to Maine to take a look at all the findings?” Prentiss, Morgan and Rossi raised their hands, “alright, meet me on the runway in 20. The rest of you, find a way to identify the feet.”

—

She sat at her desk most of the morning, munching on a bag of animal crackers to keep her nausea at bay. JJ brought her a cold ginger ale around 11, rubbing her back for a bit while she flipped through files.

She had a doctor’s appointment during lunch that day, so she headed downtown to give blood in the hour she was permitted. Knowing that she could be late and no one would really care.

She waited in Dr. Korrapati’s room patiently, looking at her arm as she rested it on the table. Her veins were more prominent now than they had ever been in her life. JJ insured her that they would go back down but it did make her a little self-conscious.

“Hey mama,” Dr. Korrapati cheered as she walked into the room. “How are we feeling?”

“Good, tired but good.”

“Work kicking your butt?” She asked as she prepped her arm for the blood draw. “Or just the baby?”

“Having a hard time finding a comfortable sleeping position, I’m probably going to get one of those long pillow things to help,” she rambled to take her mind off what was going on with her arm.

For someone who looked at dead bodies as her job, seeing her own blood freaked her out. Dr. Korrapati noticed she was a little stressed, “how about when I’m done here we take a look at your little person?”

That piqued her interest, she sat completely still and looked away as the nicest doctor she could’ve asked for, got the test over and done with, in record-breaking time.

“Do you have any other symptoms that are bothering you?” She asked as she wrote the exact tests down in her paperwork.

“Yeah,” she struggled with the sleeve of her shirt as she tucked her arm back in. “The nausea is driving me nuts, I’m living on animal crackers and ginger ale.”

“If you eat small meals every few hours it should settle it out,” she explained. “But if it is really bothering you we can give you some anti-nausea medication.”

“I tried that, everyone keeps bringing me snacks and trying to take care of me but I don’t want anything because I’m so tired,” she ranted as she climbed onto the exam table.

“Have you tried sleeping on the other side of the bed?” She asked.

“no, why?”

Dr. Korrapati laughed, “you sleep on the left side of the bed right?”

“Yeah?” She questioned, wondering how an OB could profile so well.

“So I'm assuming your smart and overprotective boyfriend has advised you to lay on your left side like he told JJ?” She smiled. “And because you sleep on the left side of the bed already, that means you’re not cuddled into him. He’s the big spoon now and you hate it.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in her head, “oh my god?”

They laughed at the fact it was so obvious and she never clued in. “It happens all the time, you’re so in a routine that you don’t realize you can just switch sides and it’ll work.”

“You’re so smart!”

“Ready to hear and see this baby of yours?” She asked, waiting for Y/N to raise her shirt and lower her leggings to expose her lower stomach.

“Can we?”

“Yep,” she nodded, “you’re in week 9, so you’re exiting the embryo stage and moving towards the fetal stage. We’ll be able to see the fetus and hear the heartbeat.”

“Can I record it for Spencer?” She asked, not wanting him to miss it.

“I’ll do you one better and put it on a disk for you.”

Just like that, she was smothering her stomach in warm jelly. Spreading it around with the ultrasound wand before she began to search for them. Pressing in slightly on her right side, she heard her own heartbeat whooshing. The closer she got to the centre, the more they heard the second.

Her baby’s heartbeat was strong. She saw them on the monitor, they had changed from being a jellybean to actually looking like a person. 4 strong limbs were stretching and moving, growing faster than she thought possible.

“That’s insane?” She was in such awe of it, “when will I feel the kicking and stuff?”

“In a few more months, they’re only the size of a green olive. You’ll probably feel it around Christmas?” She guessed. “You’ll be 16 weeks around then.”

“Wow okay,” she was just astounded by the magic of growing a child, she felt like absolute shit but it all made sense at that moment. In just a week, muscles and limbs formed and her baby grew the ability to self-soothe in the womb. Growing 10 fingers and toes that they already knew how to put in their mouth.

She cleaned the gel off Y/N’s stomach and began exporting the files for her. “So, I will call you when the results are in, and I can just email you guys a copy and go over it with you on the phone when you’re free? I know your job is unpredictable?”

“That would be perfect, thank you. We’re working on an international case right now so for all I know I’ll be in Ireland next week,” She laughed.

“Of course, take care of yourself make sure you’re taking all the vitamins and having 8 cups of clear fluids a day, you have to stay hydrated.” Dr. Korrapati handed her the disk in a sleeve as well as her contact card.

“Yes ma’am, I can’t wait to hear from you,” she smiled before leaving the office.

—

Y/N walked back into the BAU around 1:15, wandering down the hall to Penelope’s office to get a rundown of what she missed.

Spencer and JJ had the same idea, all turning towards the door as Y/N walked in, “hey.”

“How was it?” Spencer asked softly, beckoning her to his lap.

She sat down on him softly, “I got a DVD copy of the ultrasound.” She waved the disk around. “But, we can’t watch it until I get a rundown on what we know so far.”

“I hate how professional you are sometimes,” Penelope huffed. “Luckily, it is very important.”

“We matched a tattoo on one of the feet to a missing person’s case in Nova Scotia. So we focused our efforts on missing person’s cases who fit the same features and backgrounds as her,” JJ explained.

“Okay cool, who was she?”

“Andrea Carlton, 18. She was hitchhiking, apparently wanting to run away to meet her boyfriend in Newfoundland. I traced her transactions before she disappeared and it looks like she bought a ferry ticket, however, there are no reports of her ever getting on it,” Penelope added. “So I’ve looked into other people from Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, New Brunswick and Newfoundland, who went missing hitchhiking or after booking a ferry ticket.”

“Smart, how many matches did we get?”

“5,” She laughed.

“You’re kidding?”

They all shook their heads, “nope. And we were able to match all the feet to them.”

Y/N handed the ultrasound video over to Penelope. “Your reward.”

She snatched it from her hands so fast, taking it out of the packaging and shoving it in her CD port. Loading the file within seconds.

She watched Spencer’s face the whole time. Already having seen the footage herself, knowing the real show would be his reaction.

He was so mesmerized, his eyes blown up in awe as tears welled. His grip on her leg was more intense, he was squeezing along to the beat of the baby’s heart, absentmindedly. He shook his head in disbelief, that was his baby in there.

The phone rang before they could really talk about it, Hotch requesting the team hop on a plane and meet them in Nova Scotia. The RCMP and the FBI have taken sole jurisdiction over the case.

Y/N was able to convince him that it would be best if they get some sleep before they go. He agreed, telling them he expected to see them in Canada at 10 am sharp.

“Before we go home tonight can you cross-reference freelance charter boats or fishermen in the area the day each victim missed a ferry? Someone desperate to get a ride might be willing to hop in a boat with anyone going where they are,” Y/N suggested to Garcia.

“I’ll run it in the background, you two go home and get some rest so my god-baby can get big and strong!” She hugged her lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N and Spencer didn’t need to be told twice, practically running to their car. She let out the deepest sigh ever once she had her seatbelt on, so excited to go home.

Spencer drove them home, getting used to it as she got more pregnant. Soon she’d be too big to drive at all let alone stay awake the whole time.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked as they cleared the security check.

“Good, Dr. Korrapati is going to email us the results when they’re in and go over them with us on the phone. I told her we’d probably end up going out of the country soon,” Y/N recalled the day.

“The ultrasound was so cool,” he gushed.

“Yeah,” She smiled. Reaching to hold his hand on the centre console. “She also suggested we switch sides of the bed so that we can still cuddle while I’m on my left side.”

“She’s a genius.”

“that’s what I said!” She laughed, “literally how dumb are we?”

“187 till I become a dad and then I’m an idiot,” he smiled back at her quickly. “I’m glad you had a good day. Now we can go eat and get a full night’s rest.”

She let out another deep breath, “I can’t wait to cuddle.”

—

Garcia was waiting for them at the elevator the next morning. “Patrick Timmins.”

“Who?” Y/N asked, fully awake and ready to go, just confused by the ambush.

“I ran the perimeters that you asked for and I found a freelance fisherman slash charter service run by a guy named Patrick Timmins,” Garcia explained. “The townspeople call him Patty Tims, they think he’s fine and lovely according to his Yelp page but his criminal record tells a different story.”

“Really? I thought that was such a long shot!” Y/N was cheery from the extra sleep she got with Dr. Korrapati’s advice.

“The plane is ready when you guys are, I have all the updated info in this as well as some snacks for the plane,” she handed Spencer a cloth bag.

“What would I do without you? My pretty penny,” she kissed her friend on the cheek.

“If it means I get some sugar from you, I’ll do anything,” Garcia flirted with her in the absence of Morgan. “Go get on your plane, I will see you when you return my loves.”

They landed in Nova Scotia around 10 am like Hotch had requested. Bypassing customs and driving directly to the RCMP headquarters. They needed to come up with a plan, they had no idea how to find a man who travels by boat and lives at sea.

“We could always send undercover’s out in the areas he’s picked up before, have them dress as hitchhikers, miss the ferries and wait and see who tries to pick you up. Everyone will have a team watching and police boats on standby?” Morgan was theorizing as Spencer, Y/N and JJ walked in.

“We have report’s that he’s in the bay, if we’re going to do this we need to do it now,” An RCMP officer she hadn’t met yet announced to the room. “Who here is comfortable posing as a vic?”

JJ raised her hand, “get me some dirty clothes and I can be ready in 5.”

They raided the lost and found, they filled a backpack with random things and tried their best to dirty her fingernails and hair. She looked like she had been travelling without a proper place to stay for a while.

They managed to hide a wire on her, prepping what she was going to say if she was in danger and they needed to move in. Hiding a gun and a knife in her socks in case she needed them later.

They drove her down to the bay dropping her off 1 kilometre away, letting her walk into town while they parked closer to watch with binoculars. They planned it for her to arrive as the ferry pulled out of the bay.

She ran down the dock, trying to catch the ferry. Putting on the best performance of: “fuck, I missed the boat!” That they had ever seen.

“She’s going to win an Oscar,” Morgan whispered in the back of the surveillance van, trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” They heard over the wire, trying to identify the source of the voice. The man was standing on his boat, hanging over the edge to get JJ’s attention.

“I missed the ferry, do you know when it’ll be back?” She played dumb. “I promised my mom I’d be back tonight and now I won’t be.”

“I can give you a ride, for a price,” the man suggested. “Names, Patty Tims.”

Hotch turned around from the front seat and motioned for Y/N and Morgan to head out quietly without making a scene. Listening in their headsets as JJ replied. “How much?”

They hid around the corner of the ticket booth, watching as the undercover officers walked around the civilians.

“Just a simple photo, I like to put a face to the stories I run across. Come on up,” he motioned for her to get on the boat.

She walked closer to him, “I don’t know sir, I should probably wait for the ferry.” She smiled.

“No,” he ground his teeth together and clenched his jaw, reaching for her.

She grabbed his arm and flipped him, getting into the boat and pushing him to the ground. She cuffed him by the time Morgan and Y/N could board. “What the fuck is this?” He struggled in her grasp.

“You’re under arrest for the murder of 6 people,” JJ replied, about to tell him his rights.

“Only 6?” He laughed.

JJ shoved him into the floor harder, reading him his rights before lifting him to his feet and shoving him off the boat and into RCMP custody.

Y/N lifted her hand up to high five JJ, pulling her into a half hug as they walked back to the surveillance van.

She never had a sister before, JJ was probably the only woman in her life that she felt this close to. It was mostly to do with the fact she’s always been so wonderful to Spencer. She helped him feel loved before Y/N, and that was important to her.

“Can we search the boat? Or are we still waiting on the warrant?” Y/N just wanted to check with Hotch before she barged onto the boat. Not wanting to jeopardize what they’re allowed to enter into evidence.

“We got it, you can start looking,” Hotch said, handing her a pair of gloves and a handful of evidence bags.

JJ went with her. They walked in together, noticing that he wasn’t lying about wanting a photo to go with the story. Below the deck, the entire wall was filled with Polaroids of terrified people moments before their deaths.

They bagged them all into evidence, dreading having to put them all into the system and match them to missing person’s reports. Delivering the news that someone’s loved one was gone for good was never fun.

Telling 58 families that their loved one was dead was a nightmare.

chapter 17

She’s a little confused when she wakes up to the sound of geese honking. Rolling away from Spencer’s embrace and immediately being blinded by the sunlight in the room. She sat up in a small panic.

She had forgotten that they stayed the night at the new house.

The large windows in the bedroom faced the water. She could see the sun’s reflection on the lake as it stretched over the house from the east. It was absolutely stunning. She could get used to waking up early with a screaming baby if this was the view.

Then she remembered it was the day they got their test results, she bounced a little as she reached for her phone to check her messages.

“Morning bunny,” Spencer’s groggy morning voice startled her a little.

“Bunny?” She questioned, never hearing him call her any form of nickname before.

He reached out of her, wrapping his arms around her growing belly, resting his head in her lap. “Have you ever noticed you hop a little bit when you get excited?”

“Yeah, it’s called Asperger’s,” she smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s honestly better than bugs bunny though, just don’t throw carrots at me okay?” She laughed to herself as she recalled the childhood trauma.

It was a little funny, looking back now.

“Never, you’re my bunny. I love my bunny.”

He was so soft in the mornings. Snuggling in against her skin as he slowly woke up. He stretched and yawned a bit, making the cutest little sounds as he did so.

She kept her fingers in his hair, twirling the ends every once and a while. Mostly running her nails along his scalp, soothing that big beautiful brain of his that she loved so much.

“We find out what the sex is today,” she reminded him.

He lifted up her shirt to expose her belly. Kissing the skin as she laid back against the pillows.

“What’s going on in there today?” She asked softly.

“They’re the size of a prune,” he mused. “speaking of, as you enter the fetus stage this week you’re going to get constipated.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “thanks that’s exactly what I wanted to know!”

“Right now the fetal development is focusing primarily on the bones, tummy and teeth,” he explained with the largest smile on his face.

“There we go.”

He hovered over her, brushing the hair from her face so he could look at her, “You look so beautiful right now.”

He said that as if he wasn’t blocking the sun from her view, perfectly casting a halo glow around him. She placed her hand on his cheek, “I love you.”

He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his body softly against her’s. “I love you,” he whispered between kisses. Covering her face and neck with small pecks, making her laugh as he covered her body in kisses.

The phone rang on Spencer’s night table causing him to press his forehead against her hip, letting out a deep sigh. Y/N reached over and picked it up. “Doctor Spencer Reid’s phone,” she answered. “He can't come to the phone right now, can I take a message?”

“Funny,” Penelope replied.

“We have a case,” Morgan added.

“What time do we need to be on the plane by?” She asked.

“Uh, it’s 7:46 now, so you’ve got an hour, tops?” Penelope guessed, “why?”

“I said he was busy. I’ll see you later.” She hung up.

“You did not just do that?” He looked absolutely horrified, his whole face turning pink.

“They could either think you got some, or you could actually get some?” She teased. “We have an hour.”

—

“All 3 Vic’s had been strangled and raped before they were wrapped in plastic and released into the river,” Garcia explained to the team over the laptop as they travelled through the sky. “Washing away all of the unsub’s DNA, however, they did find carpet fragments under the victim’s finger-“

“Like the ’84 Oklahoma Child Murders,” Y/N cut her off.

“What?” Garcia asked.

“Oklahoma 1981 to 1984. Local black children between the age of approximately 6 and 17 were being abducted, raped and murdered. Their bodies were mostly discovered in wooded areas and along the edges of the river, never submerged. The BAU worked the case, only ever being able to solve the last 2 murders before the Oklahoma governor, I think, kicked you off the case, right? They cared more about the money going towards the investigation than the black children going missing,” She explained.

“Gideon and I tried,” Rossi said. Still very bothered by the ending. “We wanted to catch the guy, the last 2 murders were so different from the others and yet the local cops considered it the same guy. Much like this new unsub, he raped young men before strangling them and dropping them in the river. All the way down to the carpet fibres.”

“It ended up being a local man named Oscar Pope, they caught him dumping an older male victim at a police checkpoint. They matched carpet fibres at his house to the 2 rivers Vic’s, but none of the children,” Prentiss cut in. “This has to be a copycat right?”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N added. “The BAU was working the angle that a local boy who knew the majority of the victims was in on it. Um, Daryl Livingston, he was in foster care at the time. He was the 7th boy to go missing and then every one of his friends was found dead after that. However, his body was never found. They suspected that he formed a bond with his captor and offered to bring him, other boys, if he let him live.”

“Any chance that this unsub could be the same kid, using Pope’s tactic to get our attention back on him?” Morgan asked.

“I was about to say that too,” JJ cut in. “they might’ve even been a team back then as well. That would explain why the murders stopped when Pope was caught but they still never found that boy.”

“That’s possible. They concluded that the last victim Pope dropped into the river was a long-time, secret boyfriend of his who found out what he was doing to the children. His MO changed when he didn’t want people to tie the murders together,” Spencer provided the extra information. “Only backfiring when local cops patrolling the river heard a splash.”

“Garcia, can you see if any of the Vic’s have any relation, contact or even geographical coincidences with the original murders?” Rossi asked. “If this is a victim continuing Pope’s work we need to find out who knew him.”

“Sir, Oscar Pope is still alive in a local correctional facility,” Garcia added. “I’m going to run background checks on all contact he’s had in his entirety at the prison, it might take a while but I’ll get it.”

“Garcia, I can go to the facility and just read everything they have there. It might not be all digital yet,” Reid offered.

“Good idea, take Y/N with you. You two bounce ideas off each other better than the rest of us,” Hotch agreed. “Morgan and Rossi join the search teams at the rivers. JJ and Prentiss, we’ll set up communication with the locals and go through old case files.”

“Reid’s good at bouncing somethin’ off her, alright,” Morgan teased him. “You were on speaker this morning.”

Spencer turned bright red once again, burying his face into the table as everyone laughed, reaching across the aisle to give Y/N high fives.

—

Being in a prison was always weird for her.

Having to hand in her gun just to read papers in a dusty office made her uncomfortable. She understood the protocol and she knew the guards would keep them safe, but knowing she was near men she helped put away, that scared her slightly.

“I’m not finding anything,” Spencer sighed. “There was a flood 2 years ago that destroyed most of the files near the ground. Including the Pope documents.”

“We can always just go ask him?” Y/N suggested, “he’s in D cell, he’s behind bars. We can just talk to him from the hallway unofficially. Pretend we’re here for someone else. I’ll say I never thought he really did those murders and gain his trust, see what happens.”

“I don’t like it but, I think we have to,” he agreed. Opening the office door for her to lead the way, “after you.”

Spencer felt very protective, she could tell. He was never pushy or controlling with her, but for some reason, he was now manhandling her. Making sure she walked on the inside of the hallways, closer to the brick walls so that no one could get her through the bars.

“So Doctor Reid,” she picked up the conversation as they hit the D block. “I was reading the book you lent me about engineering.”

“Oh,” he tried to play along. “How did you like it?”

“It was good,” she replied while trying to look at each inmate she passed. “I loved page 187— oh my gosh?” She stopped at Pope’s cell.

“You’re Oscar Pope?” She pointed at him.

“and you’re?” The old man questioned her. “A fed?”

“We’re here for something political, nothing to concern yourself with,” she lied, getting closer to the bars, whispering. “I just want you to know I never thought you did all 16 of the child murders back in the day.”

“Thank you,” he was suddenly enthusiastic. “Now why can’t all the fed’s be as smart as you?”

She laughed, tapping his arm through the bars. “How are you doing? Is there anything I can get you while I’m here?”

“Phone privileges!” He answered quickly, “the mail’s taking forever and I’ve got people to talk to before I croak in here.”

“I’m sure you do sir,” she smiled at him. “I’ll pull some strings, you have a good day!”

“You too, beautiful!”

Spencer placed his hand on her hip and led her away from the bars, she waved as they walked away.

“Agent Y/L/N,” a voice stopped her at the end of the hall.

She turned to see a man sitting cross-legged on the cell floor. His orange jumpsuit gathered around his waist as he sat in an undershirt. She glanced over his body, stopping at his face. She’d know those eyes anywhere.

“Didn’t I say only good boys get to talk to me, Bitch?” She snapped at him.

“Congratulations on the little one.” He replied. Laughing as Spencer placed his hand over her small stomach and led her out of the room, through the big metal doors.

“Keep walking with me,” Spencer insisted. “Or I will turn around and I will kill him.”

She huffed and continued down a narrow hallway with him. “We need to call Hotch.”

“Yeah,” he flipped his phone open and hit the speed dial.

“Reid?” She heard Hotch answer.

“We couldn’t get any of his information from forms, they all had water damage so Y/N and I walked past Pope’s cell and struck up a conversation,” He explained.

“And?”

“She got on his good side, pretending that she could get him a favour while she’s here for political reasons. He said he’s desperate to make a phone call today.”

“I’m on my way, get Garcia to prep paperwork to allow us a meeting with him now,” Hotch instructed, hanging up.

Y/N dialled Garcia on her phone. “How’s it going love birds?”

“Not good,” she replied. “We need you to get the paperwork going to allow us to sit down with Oscar Pope today. And we’re going to need to tear through his cell.”

“Oh, damn okay,” She replied. “Ask him about Cody Kollins.”

“Who?” Spencer asked as his phone rang again. He flipped it open, “we’ve got Garcia here too.” Putting it on speaker.

“Morgan and Rossi just intercepted a man dropping a body in the river,” Hotch confirmed. “I need you to rush that paperwork.”

“Sir, what was the man’s name?” Garcia asked.

“Cody Kollins.”

They sighed at each other, “let’s do this.”

—

Y/N watched him through the mirror. She could see him fidgeting. He was frustrated. He was exhibiting the exact same behaviour as he was when he was caught the first time.

“Every time we one-up him, he breaks down,” she whispered to Spencer. “Even in his interrogation tapes, he was like this. When they found the single patch of carpet left in his closet and were able to match the fibres, he lost it. He likes to play it cool and under control, he wrote the story and he wants us to stick to it.”

“How upset do you think he’d be if we went in there and told him we actually caught the original killer and he’s going to be released pending DNA testing?” Spencer suggested.

She tilted her head, biting her lip as she thought. “I think he’d be violent.”

“Sit here,” he said as he walked into the interview room.

She hated having to just watch. It helped that Pope was cuffed to the table, and the table was drilled into the concrete floor, Spencer wouldn’t get hurt. The guards are right behind the door. It’s fine.

“Sorry for the abrupt interrogation, I promise this isn’t what you think,” Spencer smiled softly. “We have reason to believe that the original killer has returned, the state is running the DNA now.”

Y/N watched as Pope’s right eye started to twitch, his finger on his leg was tapping at an odd rhythm as Spencer talked.

“The second we can prove you had no hand in any of the killing’s we’ll issue a pardon and your discharge papers will be filled out,” Spencer finished his sentence and moved to open the door once more.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he hissed. His voice was completely different than it was when they were speaking in D block.

“Why?” Spencer asked, easily playing the innocent and stupid role.

“You think some crazy-obsessed, fuck toy of mine whose doing half-assed attempts at my signature, is the real killer!!!” Pope spat his confession out. Literally covering the table in spit as he became more feral. Shaking violently.

Spencer walked right out of the room. Y/N watched as Pope smacked the table, tugging violently at the cuffs, scratching himself all up. The guards had to run in and hold him down, shooting a sedative into his neck.

“Jesus,” she whispered. Taking her phone out of her pocket to call Garcia, when she noticed the voicemail notification in the bottom corner. She ignored it, calling her friend instead.

“Hey,” Penelope answered quickly. “So turns out we were right, who would have thought, Cody Kollins is actually Daryl Livingston.”

“We just got a confession from Pope,” Y/N shared her news. “They had to sedate him so we’re going to come back to the station. Wait until tomorrow to interview him again.”

“Yeah, sounds good, Hotch and Morgan are in with Livingston right now,” she updated them. “Make sure to eat something when you get there.”

“Yes mom,” she teased, hanging up and smiling.

Spencer put his hand out in an invitation to hold it. She interlocked their fingers and followed him back to the filing room, gathering their things before exiting the prison.

She sat on the passenger side of the SUV, she and Spencer just sat there and took a few deep breaths. Processing everything the exact same way, quietly and on their own.

She cut the awkward silencer by taking out her phone and playing the voicemail. Putting it on speaker.

“Hi Y/N, this is Doctor Korrapati calling. I’ve emailed you your results. The gender is at the bottom, under the little read more button, in case you wanted it to be a surprise. Call the office and let us know when you’re free to go over the results and we’ll book you in, as far as I can tell everything looks good, so don’t feel the need to rush. Take care!”

Spencer looked over at her with a soft smile on his face, reaching out for her hand once more. Holding her hand with both of his now, “do you want to do this?”

“I’m ready if you are?”

He nodded, watching her contently as she opened her email up, finding the right one and scrolling to the bottom. Her heart fluttered a little as she looked at the read more option.

She took a deep breath and clicked on it.

Chromosomal sex: XY

“Well?” Spencer asked softly.

“I’d really love to tell you,” she bit her lip trying not to laugh, “but I don’t remember what this means?”

He laughed, shaking his head as he looked at the screen. He blinked with glossy eyes as he read it, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he cried softly.

It had to be a girl, she knew he wanted one. She convinced herself in that millisecond that it was a girl.

He reached over and placed his hand flat against her belly. “Hi Matthew,” he said softly.

“You’re kidding?” She couldn’t stop herself from crying.

Spencer wrapped her up in a hug, the two of them happily crying into each other. She wasn’t sure if she was giggling or sobbing, she just knew she was shaking in Spencer’s arms with happiness that this was her little family.

He kissed all over her one cheek as he held her close. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

She pulled back, wiping her tears off on her shirt sleeve, laughing at the serendipity of it all. “I love you too, dad.”

“I have to drive, don’t make me cry again,” he laughed, wiping his own tears before tucking his ever-growing hair behind his ears.

“Let’s go.”

—

Y/N sat beside JJ in the break room of the police station, salad bowl in her lap, shovelling the dressing-covered leaves in her mouth.

They weren’t tasked with anything until Hotch and Morgan attempted to get some info out of the unsub. “Were you crying earlier?” She asked.

“A little,” Y/N smiled at her. “We’re having a boy,” she whispered.

“Oh my god!” JJ whispered back at her, reaching out for her arm and shaking her a little. “I have a feeling your little guy will be bigger than Henry was so he’ll fit into all Henry’s summer stuff when he’s born!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah!” She confirmed. “By the time he grows out of everything I might have a second boy and we can rotate it around again,” she laughed. “This is going to be so fun.”

“Matthew and Henry are going to be best friends,” Y/N smiled.

“Matthew,” she repeated. “That’s a nice name, I like it.”

“My brother’s name is Levi, I thought it was a nice way to keep a family name in my baby’s life, and his middle name is going to be Gideon,” she spoiled it for Spencer.

JJ looked a little emotional, “sorry it’s just so surreal thinking about me and Spencer having kids who are friends.”

Y/N moved her dinner out of the way and hugged her then, holding her tightly. “You better not be pregnant too,” she whispered in her ear. Not wanting to give it away if she was.

JJ just laughed, rocking Y/N back and forth in her embrace, not answering. “Right?” Y/N asked again.

“We’re trying, so who knows,” JJ replied.

“Shut up?” Y/N pulled back and stared into her eyes to see if she was telling the truth or not. “Holy shit? Since when?”

“Honestly, I think the night we celebrated Canadian thanksgiving,” she laughed. “You and Spencer got us talking about babies, and you got Henry to sleep through the night, so this is technically your fault.”

“JJ,” Y/N started to cry, “I’m so happy for you.”

“They’ll only be a few months apart, so they’ll be best friends too,” JJ smiled. “This is going to be really fun.”

chapter 18

For Christmas this year, Y/N just wanted to be fully moved into their new home before they had to leave for Vegas. Spencer followed through with the present. Inviting the entire team over for drinks if they promised to stop by Y/N’s apartment and bring a few boxes to the new house. It was basically just free labour.

She spent the night nesting while her friends drank in her kitchen. They understood why she was nervous, she was going to tell her parents about the baby and the engagement, and the house, in 3 days.

It was all going to be a lot.

She was 16 weeks along as of Christmas Eve. Waking up the morning of their flight to a weird twitching sensation in her gut, like butterflies or a muscle twitch but right where the baby would be.

“Spence,” she shook him awake. “Spencer.”

“What’s wrong?” He sat right up, squinting at her as he tried to figure out what was going on.

“It’s like, I don’t know how to explain it?” She worried.

Spencer placed his hand on her belly feeling the slight flitter. “He’s kicking.”

Spencer’s early morning smile was the best, he tackled her back against the pillow and dug his face into the crook of her neck. “That’s my baby in there.”

“I wouldn’t have known,” she laughed, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “We have to go to the airport soon.”

“I know,” he mumbled into her neck.

“If you get up now, we can go get breakfast before we have to board?” She enticed him, “we can get sprinkle donuts for the flight.”

“Okay,” he said as she freed him from her grip. “Are you nervous?”

“I know they’ll be happy, just not ready for them to ask why I didn’t say anything sooner,” She explained. “I’ve been really distant since I got the job, I’m really excited to spend time with them this weekend.”

“Same,” Spencer smiled. “Come on you two.”

They took a 9 am flight one-way to Las Vegas. Y/N slept most of the ride, spending the last 45 minutes just snuggled into Spencer’s shoulder as he watched a documentary on some form of science or math. She couldn’t hear what it was about, all she saw was a man writing out numbers on a chalkboard.

She ran her hand over her belly lightly. There was no way she could walk into her mother’s house in a few minutes and just pretend it wasn’t there. It was there. So were the 5 pounds of baby weight on her hips and the swelling in her face and knuckles.

She was pretty quiet during landing and baggage claim. Thinking in her head what she was going to say to everyone, how she would explain it. She sat in a cab beside Spencer, absentmindedly following him through the airport they’ve both been through at least 20 times.

It was a short trip to her parent’s house. Spencer traced little shapes into her leg with his finger to distract her. A flower, a 4D cube, the words I love you. It was sweet, non verbal comfort was very important to her.

When they arrived, she stayed in the cab to pay while Spencer got their bags out. Taking as long as possible so she could avoid it a little longer.

Biting the bullet, she took a deep breath and walked out into her parent’s front yard. Taking the handle of her suitcase and dragging it up the walkway.

She walked right into her house, her parents and brothers all standing up from the living room and rushing into the entryway. She was wrapped up in 7 hugs within a matter of seconds.

“You look so different,” her mom said as she pulled back from her hug. Holding her arms as she examined her, “what did you do?”

“I got pregnant,” she replied, scrunching her face as she waited for their response.

She could’ve sworn she went deaf at that moment, reaching down to cover her bump as everyone cheered and jumped around her. She was pulled into a group hug before she could process anything. Laughing awkwardly at the whole experience.

“Be quiet, he can hear this week!” She laughed.

“He?” Her father inquired.

She looked back at Spencer, smiling at him. “It’s a boy,” Spencer confirmed.

“Holy shit!” Her brothers cheered, high-fiving each other. “When are you due?” Harrison asked.

“June,” she smiled. “3 days after mom’s birthday, see I do remember it.”

“Come sit,” her mom insisted, pushing everyone out of the way and dragging her to the couch. “Put your feet up, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N insisted. “You’re almost worse than my co-workers.”

“Are they taking good care of you?” Her father asked.

She waited for Spencer to join her on the couch, they had all been so excited about her they forgot he was there. “Yeah. Um, we have a lot to tell you,” She explained, holding Spencer’s hand for comfort.

“I asked Y/N to marry me,” Spencer announced. “I am so in love with her, this baby is a dream come true and I’m very excited to become a part of your family.”

Her mom cried, tossing her hand over her eyes as she sobbed. “Mom,” she was so overwhelmed with everything she started to cry too.

“You’re a wonderful man Spencer,” her father interjected. “It’s an honour to have you.”

Spencer smiled and nodded towards him, silently thanking him for the approval.

“So, it’s kind of insane how it all happened. It wasn’t intended, but we love him so much already,” Y/N glowed as she spoke. “Are we going to tell people the name yet?”

Spencer nodded, “we can.” He smiled down at her with such wonderment, the moment she had been scared of for 16 weeks turning out to be the best time she’s had with her whole family in one room.

“His name is Matthew Gideon Reid,” Y/N smiled. “After my favourite brother, no offence Harry, and Spencer’s mentor.”

Levi was her more emotional brother. He was her best friend growing up. The 5 year age difference gave them the time to grow up separately but still find common interests to bring them together. They were the closest in the family before she moved to Virginia full time it became hard to keep up with him as much.

Now they were both parents, their kids only having a 3 year age difference. Meaning next year there would be 2 little ones at Christmas.

“That’s a lovely name,” Levi smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s whatever, don’t expect our kids to have your name either,” Harrison replied as he held his wife close, pretending he was a little offended.

“We also got a house,” she added to change the topic, “Jason Gideon, he kinda gave us his place in Virginia.”

“You’re kidding me?” Debbie gasped. “For free?”

She laughed, “it’s complicated.”

“I grew up without a father, and Gideon neglected his son for his work at the BAU,” Spencer chimed in. “We bonded, and he wanted his house to be used for good. He specifically asked for us to fill it with love and laughter. We’ve just finished moving into it. You can visit any time!” He panicked and rambled by the end.

“I don’t know if you know this,” her mom tried to joke with them. “But there’s this thing called a phone, where you can call your mother and tell her these things.”

“I wanted to!” she hurried the words out. “But I’m still working in the field, I was weary with who really knew besides the team. It’s my only weakness on the job.”

“I get it,” Debbie smiled. “Honestly, I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thanks, mom,” Y/N choked back tears. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Pregnant things, y’know.”

—

Visiting hours at the nursing home changed during the holidays. Spencer and Y/N were permitted to enter anytime between 8 am and 10 pm, giving them lots of time to spend the afternoon with Y/N’s parents before visiting her.

They borrowed her dad’s truck, driving to the nursing home with a special gift for Diana. Spencer had spent the last 2 weeks making a scrapbook page about Matthew for her, he knew how much her book meant to her and he wanted to add to it.

Her mom’s co-workers all stared at them as they walked in hand in hand. Her bump on show under the T-Shirt she chose to wear.

Diana was in her room, then walked down the long hallway to her suite. Knocking lightly on the door, waiting for her to greet them.

The door swung open, “Spencer!” She cheered. Hugging him tight in her arms.

“Hi mom,” he held her just as tight. Knowing he was a mama’s boy always made Y/N’s heart flutter.

She pulled back and looked at Y/N, “you look so nice!”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Stepping in close to give her a hug as well.

Diana welcomed them into her room, closing the door behind them. Y/N took a seat on the couch while Spencer looked around at the new things she had on display.

“I made you something,” he said softly, taking off his bag and pulling the pressed cardboard out of the protective sleeve. “here.”

She held it in her hands, looking at the ultrasound photo they got a few weeks ago at the anatomy scan. “What is this Spencer?”

“You’re going to be a grandmother,” he explained. Watching her run her fingers over the words on the paper. She was in shock, she had nothing to say. She just looked at the photo.

She quietly walked over to Y/N and sat beside her, “may I?” She asked, holding her hand up.

Y/N leaned back a little, “absolutely.”

Diana placed her hand on the bump lightly. “I was so worried I wouldn’t get to really experience this one day,” she whispered. Trying her best not to cry. “Thank you.”

Y/N cried, not realizing how special this must be for them. She was so focused on her family that she forgot that this was going to change Diana’s whole world. She now had 2 boys to love unconditionally.

“His name is Matthew?” Diana asked, running her hand over the bump softly.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled. “He’s due in June. If you can, you can fly out and stay with us for a little?”

“I’d love to,” Diana replied. “I have enough points for a trip, and I’ve been feeling really good on my medication.”

“If your doctors clear it all, Debbie and you can fly in together,” Spencer confirmed.

“Wow,” Diana smiled like Spencer. Wide thin lips, straight white teeth, big rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. She hoped Matthew inherited it too. “This is my best Christmas yet.”

—

Y/N woke up Christmas morning with Spencer cuddled into her side in her childhood bedroom. She slipped out of his grasp and sat in her windowsill instead.

She pulled her knees to her chest as best as she could now that she was pregnant, looking at the lone swing across the street that swayed in the December morning breeze.

It should be 8 am back at Quantico, her parents must have let them sleep in while they opened presents. She could see Chloe in the front yard trying out her new car. Levi smiled as he pushed her down the road, Lizzie filming the whole thing on her phone.

Her whole life was so different from the last time she really sat on the windowsill in her bedroom. Back then she was about to move to Virginia, graduating college in Nevada and getting into the training program at the academy. Harrison was already there at Fort Meade, she was about to move into his house with his wife for the first semester before settling into DC. Levi and Lizzie had just started dating, Chloe wasn’t even conceived yet. And she had no idea when she’d run into Spencer.

She rubbed her hand over her belly as a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t wait for the day that she was pushing her own child on that swing across the street. The day she and Spencer tell him about the love story that bubbled between two kids with books who looked at each other for years before they fell in love.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, removing her from the moment she allowed herself to have.

She wiped the tear from her cheek, “they’re happy tears. Go back to sleep.”

“Come cuddle?” He pouted, his big puppy dog eyes drawing her back to the bed.

She snuggled into him, running her fingers against his bare chest as she watched him breathe. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always,” he kissed the top of her head.

“When I was 17, I had my appendix out.” She rolled over and laid back, showing him the 3-inch scar on the right side of her stomach. “It was pretty bad, they said I would have died if my mom waited 15 more minutes to get me to the hospital. They had to fix parts of my stomach and intestines that were eaten by the ruptured appendix bile.”

“I had no idea,” he whispered, running his finger along the scar. “I always thought that was just a scratch.”

She shook her head lightly. “It was December 5th, ’98. They uh,” she took a deep breath before resuming. “They put me on a drug called Dilaudid, they told my mom it was a non-addictive version of morphine and that I’d be fine but, I kinda got addicted to the pill version when they let me out,” she scrunched her face as she told him. Not wanting his opinion of her to change.

“You’re kidding?” He asked, a chuckle fell past his lips as he sat up. “In my second year at the BAU I was kidnapped by a man with dissociative identity disorder and he drugged me.”

“Dilaudid?” She asked, sitting up too and shaking her head in disbelief.

He laughed at how absurd it was, “yeah.”

“I moved to Benadryl for the sleepy and calm effect after I couldn’t get any more refills and didn’t want to admit I had a problem, and weed in college” she added. “but I haven’t even taken a Tylenol in the last 5 years now.”

“I had a small problem with it after everything, but I’m also clean now,” Spencer smiled at her. “Why did you want me to know?”

“Because I don’t want to take any drugs when I deliver the baby, even if I beg for them I don’t want them to give in. I talked to Dr. Korrapati about it but I wanted you to know too,” she explained. “Being in here all night got me thinking about a lot.”

He wrapped his arms around her and tackled her back against the pillows. “I love you,” was all he said.

“I love you too?”

“Seriously,” his voice was so soft and low. “I’ll never stop.”

chapter 19

She woke up to the feeling of hair tickling her face. She swatted at her face to try and get it to stop before opening her eyes. She blinked into the early morning sunlight, only to Spencer looking down at her, his hair long enough to tickle her skin.

“You were snoring,” he whispers down to her. “Also, Happy Birthday.”

She smiled, pulling him down and into a hug. “Thank you.”

Every morning with Spencer for the last 10 months had been special. Something about the warmth of his body against hers, and the sunlight bouncing around their new bedroom made this morning her favourite.

It was so calm on the water. She could see the snow settling on the ice as the sun made it glisten like diamonds. The birds had all but disappeared for the winter, the stillness in the world was lovely. It was like time stopped with Spencer laying in her arms.

“What do you think Penelope has planned at work today?” She asked him softly, playing with his incredibly long hair. It was almost longer than hers now.

“She told me to bring you in after 8.”

“So does that mean you have to distract me for a little while, Doctor Reid?” She teased him.

He pushed himself up, leaning on his arm as he hovered over her. “Any requests?”

She spread her arms and legs out like a starfish. “Have at ‘er,” she couldn’t stop herself from laughing as Spencer just shook his head.

He dipped down to her belly, blowing a raspberry onto her protruding bump. “Good morning to you too little dude,” he whispered against her skin. “Go back to sleep.”

She shoved him lightly, not able to stop herself from smiling, “he is asleep, leave him alone.”

It was the best morning ever.

Every time she thinks that she’s reached peak happiness she discovers another level. It felt like every time he touched her, she wanted to describe it as the best she’s ever felt.

When they finally got dressed and made their way downstairs for the morning, she found it incredibly odd that he wasn’t asking her what she wanted for breakfast, like he did every morning. Very concerned that she had all her meals and then some.

She fed the cat, picking him up and giving him a little snuggle after he finished his breakfast. “You are getting so big and chunky buddy, I might have to change your food timer.”

He meowed at her, sounding really pissed, making her laugh. “Fine but when you can't climb all the stairs in this house it’s your fault.” She placed him back on the ground and watched him wander into the sunlight. Plopping onto the hardwood and stretching out. Just living the life.

“Ready to go?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah, are we stopping for breakfast?” She asked, the second trimester making her hungrier than ever before.

“Penelope has it covered,” He said, placing his hand on her back as he leads her to the foyer.

“Oh this’ll be good,” she smiled, putting her shoes on before arming the alarm and heading outside.

Spencer locked their beautiful green front door, it was colder out than they had expected. He held her hand as she shivered slightly, they walked down the 3 steps together, Spencer not wanting her to fall if it happened to be icy.

Seat heaters were a blessing from god. The car was freezing when they first got in, the heater barely kicked in by the time they reached Quantico. Living 10 minutes away now was really nice.

Up the elevator they went, she was basically bouncing with excitement. “See?” Spencer nudged her with his shoulder. “Bunny.”

“Shut up,” she smiled as the door dinged before opening.

They walked into the bullpen to find it empty. She took off her coat and placed her bag on her desk before slowly walking up the small set of stairs and heading towards the briefing room.

All her co-workers were sitting around the table waiting for her and the boy wonder to arrive. Strawberry cheesecake danishes sat on a tray on the table, a strawberry milkshake in front of Y/N‘s regular spot.

“Happy Birthday!” They cheered as she walked in.

“You guys!?” She was so flattered. Never in her life has she been thrown a party by someone who wasn’t her mother. “Thank you.”

“Sit, sit,” Penelope insisted. Placing a danish on a napkin and putting it on her spot on the table. “I know you can’t have ice coffee right now, I thought a milkshake was the next best thing.”

“I seriously love you, come here,” she pulled Penelope into a hug, kissing her right on the mouth as everyone cheered.

“See that?” Penelope blushed. “Kisses are how I should be thanked around here.”

“HR already hates us,” Hotch made everyone laugh, “don’t push it.”

They all ate breakfast together, sharing stories from their weekend. They decided to spend New Years’ apart, everyone taking time to themselves for the first time ever.

“Where did you go, Prentiss?” Morgan inquired.

“Sin to Win weekend in Atlantic City,” she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“Oh my god?” Y/N looked at her with absolute astonishment.

“What’s that?” Morgan and Spencer asked at the same time.

“Nothing.” Emily and Y/N replied in unison. Making a look at each other that screamed: ‘tell anyone and I’ll hurt you.’

Like a saviour, the fax machine in the briefing room turned on, spitting out 15 sheets of paper in a few minutes. Penelope cleaned off the table while Hotch ran everything over.

“Last night a family in Boston had their home burned down with them inside it,” Hotch explained.

“How is that something for us to look into?” Rossi asked.

“Because the unsub broke in and turned the water off and tampered with the gas system, causing CO2 to render them unconscious. He stabbed the father to death in the bed before laying gasoline all over the floors and lighting the house on fire.”

“Damn,” Y/N whispered under her breath. “That is personal.”

“I’d say,” Hotch agreed.

“Who was the family?” JJ asked.

Garcia looked through the sheets of paper spewed across the table. “Thomas Greenway, 61. His wife Alison 43. And 2 children aged 8 and 12.”

“We need to head to Boston,” Hotch announced. “I’ll call about prepping the plane. Y/N you can stay here with Garcia if you’d like, your insight will aid her search greatly.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind,” she smiled at Garcia. “Good luck out there.”

“Wheels up in 30.”

Everyone sighed before standing up. Spencer leaned in and kissed Y/N softly before standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home to me safely Doctor Reid.”

He smiled down at her, fixing his shirt before he left with Morgan.

“I hate to see him go, but I love watching him leave,” She said softly towards Penelope, making her laugh in the process.

“Come on mama, let’s go to my office,” Garcia said, putting her arm out for Y/N, the two of them skipping down the hallway with their arms linked as the team filled the elevator.

Y/N sat in Garcia’s office and immediately put her feet up, still drinking her milkshake as she flipped through the case files. “Can I suggest possibly the dumbest thing ever?”

She laughed, “shoot.”

“So, homeboy here breaks in and knocks out a family with co2 poisoning, just to stab the father to death and light the house on fire.” She ran it down once more, “What if we just search mothers stabbed before dying in a fire and just see if this is some traumatized kid, at this point that’s what they all end up being.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Garcia said, typing away as she added the parameters. “It’s like you can see the fucking future?”

Y/N threw her head back in a laugh, “did you get something? Seriously?”

“Adele Hollis was found dead in a burning apartment building in Boston in 1978. ME reports say she was already dead from co2 poisoning before she was stabbed 6 times in the chest. The whole apartment complex went up in flames after the unsub doused the bed in gasoline and lit her up.”

“Well fuck,” Y/N replied. “Does she have children?”

“Yes, her son Cameron was at school when it happened. He was 8, he moved in with his step-dad shortly after, they ruled him out and never found the guy,” Garcia added.

Y/N leaned across the desk and dialled Hotch, the plane hadn’t even left yet. “I think I found the unsub?”

“How?” Hotch asked.

“I jokingly asked Garcia to search and see if there are any men whose mothers died in a fire after being stabbed cause we deal with sooo many traumatized kids, and we found one,” she laughed at just how insane it sounded.

“Video in and give us a rundown.” Hotch hung up. Ever the conversationalist.

Garcia and Y/N squeezed into the same frame seeing everyone gathered in the little plane seats. She gave them the basic rundown of her findings, watching them all shake their heads at the fact she solved the case already.

“Have the local PD issue a warrant and bring him in. Can you check and see if he knows the victims?” Hotch asked.

“On it sir,” she smiled, clicking away.

“How did you do that so fast?” Morgan has to ask, “it’s not human.”

She laughed again, “If I’ve learned anything in the last 10 months it’s that traumatized little boys can fuck up a lot of people’s lives.”

“Preach,” Rossi added.

“Um, guys,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Cameron Hollis’s birth father is the father who was stabbed in this case.”

“You’re shitting me?” Y/N couldn’t believe it. “Do they have any kind of relationship?”

“His father is on the birth certificate but it looks like Adele left him when Cameron was 3, after some domestic disputes that had the cops at their door. She was remarried when he was 6, it doesn’t look like they ever really talked,” Garcia explained while continuing to dig.

Y/N watched through the monitor as the team gripped their seats, the plane was taking off now. They would be in Boston with this guy in just a few hours.

“Thanks, Lady Wonder,” Morgan winked at the camera for Y/N before leaning in and turning the monitor off.

She sat back and put her feet up once more. “Best birthday ever.”

—

They had Cameron Hollis in custody with a full confession before 5 pm that day. Everyone was beyond thankful that they would be back home with their families shortly.

Y/N had said goodbye to Penelope shortly after, driving home to have some alone time. Rossi would drive Spencer home, they lived close enough now that they could all carpool if they wanted.

She had never been in their new house all alone before. She took the time to just walk around and admire everything, being thankful that her life ended up like this. Not taking a second of it for granted.

She sat down on her bed finally, taking her phone out and calling JJ.

“Hello bestie,” she answered.

Y/N smiled, “Hey, do you think Will could find a babysitter tonight?”

“Probably, why?”

“Tell him to drop Henry off and head to my place. I’m going to have pizza delivered and you can come here with Spencer when you land,” Y/N offered. “Have a date night with us.”

“That would be amazing, I’ll call Will right now. See you later,” JJ sounded happy. It made her smile.

“See you.” She hung up, laying back against her bed softly.

She changed quickly before heading downstairs, wearing a pair of leggings and an academy t-shirt. She was getting too big for almost everything she owned now.

She placed an order for a few pizzas to arrive at 8:30. Next, making sure she had more beer in the fridge, for the nights when Will wandered over with JJ. They had visited almost every weekend since she and Spencer moved in.

That’s when she saw him.

chapter 20

Previously...

The dream was always the same:

A man would get into their home, he knew their schedule, he knew when she’d be alone.

He’d get in without any trouble and he never made a sound. She wouldn’t even know he was in the room until she felt the cold metal gun press against her face, as shaking hands instructed her to tie her own behind her back.

He’d always use her supplies. Duck tape, shoelaces, scarves. Anything at his disposal that he didn’t have to bring with him. Almost as if he didn’t fully choose her to be his victim until the very last minute.

He assaulted her all for what felt like hours, stopping occasionally to cry in the bathroom or eat a snack in their kitchen. And he always showered at the end. Sometimes, he’d wrap her up in a housecoat, put her sheets in the wash and sincerely advised her to invest in a better lock for the sliding door.

Then he was gone.

Slipping into the night, on his way to become someone else’s nightmare...

There was a man in her yard, he was dressed in all black, with a backpack wrapped around his shoulders and a ski mask on his face.

He couldn’t see her from where she was in the kitchen, but she could see him. She ducked to the floor and crawled towards the stairs, booking it up the steps and grabbing her gun. She made sure it was loaded, grabbing a second clip from her nightstand and tucking it into her pocket. Then she detonated the alarm system from the remote on Spencer’s bedside table.

She crawled into her closet, making herself look like a pile of clothes.

And she waited.

She felt a little insane, she tried to convince herself that it could be anyone from a neighbour to a lost person from the trail. For all she knew, it was someone from the academy lost in the woods.

She tried to calm her breathing, calling Will with her cell phone. “Hey, JJ just filled me in-“

“There is someone in my backyard in all black with a backpack, how fast can you get here?” She panicked in a whisper.

“Fuck, okay, I just dropped Henry off at the sitter. I’ll be right over, stay put and I will call you when I’m there,” his southern accent came out more when he was stressed.

“Okay, thank you,” she hung up and took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds in her house.

She remembered what the house sounded like that morning. The stillness, the quiet peacefulness of her and Spencer in the bed only 12 feet away from where she was now hiding.

She remembered the way the floors creaked as it popped and settled with the heat, how the tree outside would sometimes tap the window, the sound of snow tumbling off their roof. Passing cars on the main road kicking up gravel, the odd bird singing in the cold breeze, her own heartbeat in her ears.

Then she heard the alarm turn off with its overly happy welcome home chime. Only knowing one man would be able to disarm her alarm system without a code, and he was in the air right now.

“Open,” she heard the alarm’s voice as the door opened.

Footsteps travelled along the hardwood floor in wet shoes. She listened to the sound of the wet rubber on hardwood explore the first floor.

There were 2 people in her house, splitting up as one went to the kitchen and one went up the stairs.

She aimed her gun at the doorway, aiming to shoot anyone who walked through the door in the leg. Not wanting to kill anyone who she knew that might’ve gotten in for a different reason, unannounced.

In the rare happenstance that this wasn’t her worst nightmare coming true.

Her hands were shaking as she kept the gun pointed for what felt like hours, just waiting for him to find her. The door handle started to turn slowly, she heard the sound of the old metal grinding ever so slowly.

The first thing she saw were his eyes, yet again. The same eyes that haunted her dreams, the eyes every woman she spoke to for 2 years remembered from behind the ski mask.

Fuck Wichita, he was her own personal nightmare. He had been for a while. Those eyes, big and black all the way around, not a single glimpse of colour or life or hope. Every single dream came flooding back as she saw him in her doorway, the same aura of death, destruction, loneliness and despair from all those months ago was now filling the most special place in her home.

He still hadn’t seen her in the closet, looking around the room carefully as she watched him. Waiting for him to get closer, and closer to where she was. Finally peeling back the wooden closet door.

“Surprise, bitch,” She said before aiming higher and shooting him between the eyes, knocking him down.

She stood and stepped out of the closet, “Travis fucking Johnson,” she shook her head as she looked at the man bleeding on her bedroom floor. Taking his pulse to ensure that he was dead.

She couldn’t hear anything for a second, trying her best to zone in on the sound of someone tiptoeing in her kitchen, “WHO ELSE IS IN MY HOUSE?” She screamed.

Suddenly she could hear the sound of a car on the gravel and then a door slamming. She stepped into the hallway, gun pointed, looking over the railing towards the front door.

“Y/N?!” Will yelled. Gun pointed as he entered her house.

“I’ve got one down, I think there’s another in the kitchen,” she replied.

“On it.”

Y/N looked down the hall, none of the upstairs rooms were open, every door exactly how it looked when she ran up the stairs. She headed down the steps when 2 shots were fired.

She quickly ran to the kitchen to see another man on her floor behind the counter, his feet the only thing she could see as he laid there, dead. Will was standing over him, taking his pulse.

“He’s gone,” Will confirmed.

Y/N finally let herself panic, shaking as she tried to catch her breath, pulling out a chair from the counter and sitting down. Her adrenalin was running wild in her bloodstream, she didn’t even know how to speak let alone think about what had just happened.

“Y/N,” Will’s soft voice brought her back to reality. He was right beside her, wrapping his big strong arms around her to try and calm her down. “Shh, it’s okay.”

“Who was it?” Is all she asks him.

“I have no idea, who was upstairs?” Will asked.

“Travis Johnson, from my first case with the BAU,” she calmed down a bit, breaking away from the hug to get off the chair.

She walked around the counter island, looking down to find another man she knew, bleeding on her brand new hardwood floors. “Oh my god,” she felt sick at the sight.

He smelled the same, stale and rotten. The same look on his face even as he slipped into eternal damnation. Empty as when he was alive, pure evil down to his core. Dead to match how he felt inside as he did those awful things to undeserving mothers.

The second worst man she’s ever come in contact with.

The Winnemucca Womb Raider.

She backed up into Will, he held her close so she didn’t drop to the floor, helping her back into the chair. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah,” she felt herself starting to cry. “How? They were both in prison?”

“We need to call the police,” Will said softly before taking his phone out.

“911 what’s your emergency?” She could hear the muffled woman’s voice as he pressed his phone to his ear.

“This is Detective William LaMontagne Jr. Two men just broke into my friend’s home and tried to kill her,” he explained the situation, making her shutter.

She watched as he talked to the woman, suddenly not able to hear anything as her body slipped into shock. She was completely numb. In the last 10 months she hadn’t fired a single shot on the job, and yet on her birthday, the one time she's alone, she has to kill someone in her own home.

The place where she was supposed to feel safe and happy. Where her new life with Spencer and Matthew was supposed to start. They promised Gideon love and laughter, having that dream stripped from them when Pure Evil stepped over the threshold.

It was just like the dream, the last one she had before Spencer wrapped himself around her, calming her down.

This time he wasn’t here, he didn’t even know that this had happened, he wasn’t always going to be there to save her. She pulled herself back into the moment, calming herself like she had all those years before him.

She wasn’t a damsel in distress, he knew that.

A man walked into her home, the one time he knew she’d be alone and vulnerable.

That was the only part of the dream that matched.

Unlike her dream, she wasn’t a victim. Not in this house. Not in her space. Not ever.

The sound of the sirens echoed in her ears finally, she turned to the commotion of officers running into her new house. Will walked them through it all, telling them who Y/N was and that this was her home. How she saw a man in her yard and hid before killing him upstairs.

“Ma’am?” A stranger in a uniform tried to get her attention. “Ma’am, can you come with me?”

She nodded, standing up and finding support in the man’s arms. He wrapped her up in a silver blanket before he led her outside and into an ambulance. She had her vitals taken and an oxygen mask placed on her to help her calm down.

“Is the baby okay?” She asked the EMT, pulling the mask off her face so he’d hear her.

“Yes,” he smiled. “Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress but you need to relax so we can keep it that way.”

Will climbed into the ambulance then, taking her hand in his, “hey doll, are you okay?”

She nodded, “just a little shook up.”

“I called Spencer,” he said softly. “They’re 30 minutes from landing, then him and the team are on their way. No one told the team about the prison break in Oklahoma, they didn’t even think to connect them back to you.”

She sighed, “two cases in 2 different states, where the offenders ended up going to a 3rd state to meet and do time together and bond over the women who put them away. Makes sense.”

“You put them both away?” He asked.

She nodded again. “I basically made it my life goal to get Travis Johnson, he’s the reason I have this job, he’s the reason I’m pregnant right now,” her words trailed off into whispers. “I saw him in November, he congratulated me when he saw the bump.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“The Winnemucca womb raider, he would kill pregnant women by strangling them before removing their wombs,” she looked at him, horrified. “They wanted to kill us...”

She wrapped her arms around her own stomach, she had almost forgotten to worry about him. To even think that she was more than just one person at the moment.

They weren’t after her, they were after the most important thing to her. Her son, her baby boy. Like all the mothers before her, like their own. They wanted her to suffer, for her son to be spared a future worse than death in their opinion.

All the images from the cases came flying back as she blinked faster and faster. Strangled women, removed wombs, thanking God for a second that Spencer was the one to see the recovered organs in his trailer. A sick feeling bubbled in her body, a chill ran deep in her bones.

Then everything went black.

—

The first thing she remembers when she gained consciousness again was that Spencer was furious. She could see him and Hotch in a heated conversation from inside the ambulance, she tried her best to wake up and zone in on what was going on.

It was too dark for her to read their lips, but he was angry.

JJ was sitting beside her now, holding her hand. “Hey, bestie.”

“Did the cat get out?” She doesn’t know why that’s the first thing she asks, “the door was left open, did he get out?” Still in shock, still trying to understand everything.

JJ shushed her, petting her hair as she leaned in close, hugging her softly. “He was in the laundry room, Will said he made sure to find him when you were getting checked out.”

“Good,” she nodded along as she listened. “I’m so overwhelmed.”

JJ let out an awkward laugh, “I can imagine.”

“I’m also starting to fall in love with your husband,” she found her sense of humour then. “He has perfect timing.”

JJ laughed a little harder, causing Spencer’s focus to shift to the ambulance. Y/N watched him run towards it and jump in.

“Y/N, oh my god,” Spencer wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied. “I’m safe, the baby’s healthy,” she assured him.

He kissed her all over her face, making her giggle when he wouldn’t stop, repeating kisses all over her face, her ears and her neck. She could hear JJ also laughing as she watched with Hotch just outside.

He finally stopped to catch his breath, hugging her again with his face in her neck. “I love you,” she reminded him.

“You love me?” He pulled back, “I love you so fucking much, I am never leaving you alone again.”

“Spencer,” she laughed, “I think I handled it pretty well.”

He huffed and shook his head, “you shouldn’t have had to handle this in the first fucking place! It’s not that fucking hard for someone to call the god damn FBI and say hey two psychopaths that your genius new girl put behind bars, fucking escaped!”

She finally knew what Hotch meant when he said Spencer’s anger scared him. She looked at him like he was a whole different person, “Spence, baby, I know. It’s okay, I’m fine see?”

She placed her hands on his cheeks as she looked into his beautiful hazel eyes, watching his pupils change size as he focused on her. Love and life behind them, true happiness clouded by horror at the thought of losing the love of his life.

He was what a true man was supposed to be, a real genuine person with love and kindness, and empathy. Her soulmate, her Spencer.

“We can’t control everything, that’s what you told me. We handle what’s in front of us, and we do it well,” she smiled as she reminded him.

Spencer started to cry, pulling her in close. “I can’t lose you.”

She cried at the sound of his voice, his heart shattering as he cried in her arms, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Terrified on a level she’s never seen in him before.

She rubbed his back as she held him, rocking him lightly as she shushed him absentmindedly. Soothing him as if her life depended on it, it broke her heart to see him this broken about the idea of losing her. She loved him so much it made her heart physically ache in her chest as she held him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, whispering against his hair. “I’ll kill a million men if it means coming home to you.”

He laughed in the middle of his cries, she could feel him smile softly as he sniffled against her shirt. “Promise?” He asked as he pulled back to look at her.

She wiped the tears from his cheeks, his beautiful eyelashes clumped together in the wetness. He was so sweet, she couldn’t help kissing him quickly, “promise.”

—

Hotch insisted they head to the BAU with the rest of the team while he handled the crime scene and the forensic clean-up, knowing on a personal level what it was like to clean Evil’s blood out of your bedroom carpet.

Y/N was sitting in the car waiting to leave when she saw Will coming out of her house with 3 pizzas. “I forgot I ordered those,” she gasped at the sight.

“You should’ve seen the look on the delivery guy’s face,” JJ laughed.

It was really bizarre having a pizza party in Rossi’s office after shooting someone in her home. Everyone was trying to be as chipper as possible to try and take the tension off the situation, but Y/N was pretty quiet.

Morgan got everyone to settle down before closing the office door, sitting close to her and Spencer. “Everyone in this room has either been shot, in danger, held hostage or worse,” he offered her some support.

“If you want to share anything, express any feeling or just tell us to fuck off, you can,” his words were soft, she watched him with soft eyes as he spoke.

“The only thing I can think of is that fate is fucked up,” she replied, the honesty slipping off her tongue like it was made of butter.

“You have the floor,” he insisted that she continue.

“I moved into a tiny apartment, farther away from my job, because I needed somewhere to live, and I found Spencer in the hallway. Spencer led me to you, and you guys helped me find Travis Johnson, my personal nightmare case of 2 years,” she explained like they never knew that. “But it’s so much more than that now.”

“We ran into Travis at the prison in Oklahoma a few months ago,” Spencer added. “He noticed that she was pregnant and congratulated her.”

“But the thing that’s fucking me up the most is that, and sorry TMI,” she warned them before continuing. “but we conceived the baby in Kansas when we caught the VICAP counsellor, only a few towns over from where we arrested Travis. Then we ran into him on a different case in Oklahoma, and he happened to be in the same prison as a man from New Mexico I put away for killing pregnant women. Something about this all lines up so perfectly... I hate that I find it so interesting.”

“That is kind of insane,” Morgan agreed. “I think it just means you and Spencer are being pulled together by something with bigger plans than you realize. And you’re a good shot, so thankfully you have nothing to worry about now.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

She held Spencer’s hand, looking down at the ring on her finger that meant she was his forever. As much as she hated the idea of a man owning a woman, she loved the idea that Spencer was her person forever.

They were tied together in a way no one would understand, she loved him deeper than she ever thought possible.

Everything happened for a reason. Her reason just so happened to be Fate wanting her to spend the rest of her life, Happily with Doctor Spencer Reid.

—

She woke up around noon the next day, Spencer was sitting up beside her reading a book when she finally clued into where she was. They had spent the night at Rossi’s house while the forensic cleanup team handled her kitchen and bedroom.

“Good morning,” she smiled up at him, stretching against the sheets as she fully woke up.

He put his book down and joined her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her neck softly.

“Good morning,” he replied finally. She loved his voice when he hadn’t spoken yet. His vocal cords yearning to be used.

She smiled against his skin, holding him against her chest as she breathed him in. Her safety, her cosmic soulmate.

Everything just felt better in the world when they were pressed this close to each other. This was how they were meant to be.

“How are you feeling?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

She rolled him onto his back, snuggling into his chest and lifting a leg over him so the baby wasn’t squished. “Good, I’m excited to go back home later.”

“You’re not scared,” his fingers ran through her hair as she felt his breath on her face.

“No,” she shook her head against him. “Yesterday could’ve been a lot worse, but I’m trained to think on my feet and the danger is gone now. I’m never going to let myself be a victim in my own home.”

“I love you,” he reminded her. “And after yesterday-“

“I want to get married soon too,” she cut him off, getting up and sitting on his hips. She ran her hands over his chest as she looked down at his beautiful, still puffy, morning face.

He beamed up at her, “I feel it too, I want to make it official. I want to shout it from the rooftops that the love of my life chose me too.”

She nodded softly, “and we agreed that in April this year we’d go to Vegas, and we’d do it. I think we still should, I just want to plan it a little.”

“Of course,” he agreed, squeezing her thighs in his excitement. “Come here.”

She held his face in her hands as she leaned down, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip as she looked at him ever so softly. “I love you,” she said before kissing him.

His hands wandered over her back, holding her into the kiss. Breathing in deep through his nose, kissing her as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.

Spencer was desperate to love her, and she was desperate to be loved by him.

She broke the kiss to just look at him, moving his hair back and pressing her forehead against his. “The park across the street from my parents house,” she whispered.

“Mhmm.”

“I want to get married there, I want to start the rest of my life in the spot where I first really fell in love with you,” she explained, her lips close enough to him that the words could have stuck to his skin.

“I think I can pull some strings and get us a permit by April,” He smiled against her lips, “what day are we thinking?”

“The 23rd, 1 year exactly,” she said before Spencer pulled her back into another kiss, this time it’s soft and delicate. “Until forever,” she whispered against his lips.

“You need to promise me one thing,” he added. Feeling her nod as she kissed down his neck. “I know you said you’re fine, but the second you’re not I need you to tell me.”

“Okay,” she agreed, sitting back up as she straddled his hips. “You have to do the same, I can’t handle you crying in my arms like that again, it really broke my heart.”

He held his pinky out to her, she smiled as she wrapped her own around his. Both leaning in to kiss the other's knuckle, a small tradition Y/N adored.

—

They were back at their house by 5 pm. Hotch had ensured that everything was completely cleaned and there was 0 evidence that a crime had even taken place on the property. Penelope on the other hand had taken it upon herself to break into their alarm system and reset it for them shortly after everyone left.

They changed the code, closed the door and sighed at the beautiful home that felt a little different now. “I think I want to paint,” she announced.

“Yeah?” Spencer laughed at the suddenness.

“It’s too blah, y’know? I see what they were doing with the whites and beige for all the light. But, I’m thinking green in here to flow with the cabinets in the kitchen,” she walked through the foyer as she imagined the colours that would look good. “Like an olive or forest, maybe even jade. It’ll look nice with the dark wood.”

“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed. “Make it feel more like the old apartment.”

“Exactly,” she smiled. “I miss the clutter and the intimacy of the last place, and I know you miss the look of books everywhere.”

“I’m still alphabetizing them in my office,” he added. “I’d like to paint in there as well, I’ve been looking at antique chairs and couches for my reading.”

“Hotch is going to make us take 2 weeks off again,” Y/N looked at him with excitement. “We can put all our energy into this place now.”

“Let’s make it ours,” He agreed.

“Wanna go to the hardware store and look at paint samples?” She hopped with excitement, grabbing his arm and tugging on him.

He laughed, pulling her into his chest. “Sure, bunny,” he pressed his cheek to the top of her head as he held her. “What about Matthew’s room?”

“Oh, me and Penelope have it all planned, all the stuff is being delivered next month. She kinda went a little nuts,” Y/N laughed.

“He’s going to be one loved little boy,” Spencer chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae Week Day 3 Into the Woods

There are giants in the sky! There are big tall terrible giants in the sky! 

The changeling had his nose buried in the score as he attempted to read the music in front of him. ‘Funny’ Raven thought, ‘I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen him reading something other than a comic book’ 

When you’re way up high and you look below at the world you’ve left and the things you’ve known, little more than a glance is enough to show you just how small you are! 

Raven hated admitting it to herself but dear god she loved his singing voice. He had this sexy tenor that was like honey to the ears. She could listen to him sing for hours and never get bored. Her favorite music was anything he sang, but she’d rather die than ever let him in on that. 

When you’re way up and you’re on your own 

In a world like none that you’ve ever known

Where the sky is lead and the earth is stone 

You’re free to do whatever pleases you

Exploring things you’ve never dared 

Cause you don’t care when suddenly there’s a big tall terrible giant at the door. 

Stupid Robin and this stupid theater that’s closing down. If Robin hadn’t made such a huge deal out of trying to save the theater Raven would never be in this mess. 

A big tall terrible lady giant sweeping the floor 

Raven was just glad she could keep her cloak on for the role at least for most of the first act, she didn’t know if she was ready to face an audience without it. 

And she gives you food and she gives you rest and she draws you close to her giant breast and you know things now that you never knew before 

A Teen Titans production of the show, into the woods. Super. Raven didn’t even know she could sing up until auditions. She had never really tried before and once she did, she kind of blew everyone away, herself included. 

Not til the sky

“Ok good work, you’ve obviously been practicing but next time hold out sky for a little longer, you’re cutting it short and you should be taking a big enough breath after before to be able to sustain that.” The music director, Dan, reminded Garfield. 

“Thanks dude! I’ll work on it!” 

“I know you will, that’s why I don’t hate you,” Dan nodded. 

Raven liked Dan, he didn’t pussyfoot around. 

Dan turned on the piano bench to face Raven motioning her to come forward with his fingers. 

Nevermind, she actually hated Dan. 

She sighed and slumped her shoulders trudging to the piano like a child being sent to timeout. She threw her hood over her face to hide the blush coloring her cheeks before Dan interrupted. 

“Your character doesn’t have their hood on at this part of the show!” 

‘Fuck you Dan’ Raven thought pulling her hood down. 

“Ok top of measure 55, here is your starting note and…..go” 

Careful the things you say

Children will listen 

Careful the things you do children will see

Gar regarded Raven’s tense form. She was nervous, and she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself in front of an audience. 

And Learn

Too bad she had probably the biggest role in the whole damn show, The witch. 

Children may not obey

But children will listen

The role really was very fitting for her. Maybe not the rap about produce but everything else about the role was very...Raven. 

Children will look to you for which way to turn

To learn what to be

If only someone could just show her how to relax into a character and just be natural in it, then it wouldn’t be so painful for her. 

Careful before you say, Listen to me

Wait! He was someone! He could definitely show her how to get into character, and you know a little extra alone time with her wouldn’t be such a terrible thing now would it? 

Children will listen….

Dan turned to Raven, “How do you think that went?” 

“Well I was pitchy on measure 75 and I think I got off tempo towards the end, also my voice cracked at measu-” 

Dan raised his hand to silence the girl, “No, you’re singing was perfect, the real issue is that you need to relax. You know what you’re doing so just let yourself do it without judgement.” 

Raven glowered at the music director, “Easier said than done, Dan.” 

After rehearsal, Raven gathered her things in her bag and was headed towards the stage door when a familiar voice called out. 

“Hey, wait, Raven!” 

“What do you want, Gar?” 

“I think I know how to help you with your stage fright, that is if you want my help.” 

Raven breathed a sigh of relief, “You don’t know how much I would love that, thank you” 

Gar chuckled, “Well you’re gonna love the means of how we’re gonna do it even more.” 

Raven was amused, “Oh?” 

“Yep, I’m gonna show you how to meditate like an actor.” 

Later in Raven’s room she had sat on her floor cross legged waiting for instructions from her teammate. 

“Ok start with deep breaths in and out. In….Out….In” 

Raven smiled despite herself, for him to give her instruction on deep breathing when she meditated everyday, it was almost laughable, but she complied. 

He guided her through a simple grounding exercise and once she was fully grounded he began speaking again, “Now I want you to imagine you’re in a cottage in a forest…” 

Ah, so this was a guided meditation, this she could handle easily. 

“Now this is your cottage and your home, understand? Around your cottage is a huge garden, full of beautiful greenery. Can you see it?” 

“Yes” 

“Spend a few moments admiring your garden, truly soak it in.” 

She did as instructed. 

“Now I want you to imagine you hear a sound somewhere in the garden, I want you to move towards the sound.” 

Raven found herself wandering a maze of vegetation in her mind’s eye until she found the source of the sound. A man in her garden. Not just any man but her neighbor stealing her vegetables! She tended that garden with every fiber of her being and the fact that someone she said hello to every morning was stealing from her, it felt violating. She was furious, she could’ve laid a spell on him right there! She could’ve turned him into stone, or a dog, or a chair…

Raven popped an eye open realizing what was happening, “Is this guided meditation based on the witch’s story in the show?” 

“Yes, now get back into it!” 

Raven shut her eyes and let her mind sink back into the story. 

Her neighbor was begging for forgiveness but she knew it would happen again if she didn’t do something to keep him away. She had been lonely and barren all her life and having always wanted a child of her own, she was envious of the baker’s pregnant wife. She offered the baker a second chance at life for the baby growing in his wife’s womb. The baker reluctantly agreed before climbing over the garden wall, but as soon as he had left the sanctity of her walls...BANG FLASH, LIGHTNING CRASH! She watched as her hands shrunk and withered into the hands of an old crone. Raven ran to a small stream that ran through her garden to look at her reflection and much to her horror and dismay a 90 year old woman’s face stared back. 

Raven sat up and screamed out of the meditation jolting Beast Boy backwards. 

“Raven, are you ok?”

“Meditation is supposed to relax you Gar, not send you horrific images.” 

“Yeah sure but...how do you feel about the baker now?” 

Raven’s eyes glowed red at the mention of the name. “Oh I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting my face back and somehow making him pay for it in the process!” 

Raven paused, confused at her own words, “What was that?” 

“That was you finally being in character.” Gar smiled up at his friend. 

“Ok but you said that you were going to help me with stage fright, not character development.” 

“I did, Rae. Now when you go on stage, you’re not going to be thinking about the audience, you’re going to be thinking about what a rat bastard that baker is and how you’re going to make him pay. You’re going to think about how everyone sees you as the bad guy because you’re the witch when really you’re the victim in the show. You’re going to think about how much you love Rapunzel and you’re not ready for her to grow up yet. All the characters on stage, they’re not in front of an audience they’re just living their lives, it’s our jobs as the actors to give a venue to tell their stories.” 

Raven was floored, since when did he get so...wise? 

“That was a very impressive speech, Garfield.” 

“Yeah well, you know, can’t be stupid all the time,” he shrugged. 

“A slotted spoon can catch the potato..” 

“See? Now you’re in the spirit of the show.” 

Color flooded Raven’s face as she stood to meet her friend at the door. 

“Thank you Gar, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.” she leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Gar’s emerald skin met red as he flushed at the contact, “Uh, wait. What? Did you just?” 

“Best to take the moment present, as a present for the moment” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss. 

[minaslittleone]

Fission & Fusion (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: How did the refined and proper Wilhemina Venable end up working for two coked-up tech bros out of the back of a van?

An origin story of sorts, dedicated to the amazing @lucyintheskywithxanax who has developed such a beautiful and nuanced depiction of Mina. This was inspired by her incredible story "And I failed to climb the mountain".

Word count: ~2700

The hours after that were fuzzy. After storming out of her parents house with little more than the bare essentials and no intention of returning Wilhemina didn't really have much of a plan. She had never fantasized about running away as a child, she hadn't even been brave enough to rebel vicariously and yet here she was, with no plan and no where to go. And terrified.

But Wilhemina was nothing if not practical so she sequestered all of those doubts and anxieties down into the deepest corners of her brain to be dealt with later, she told herself. Really to be dealt with never.

Practically speaking, money was her first concern. She knew that her mother's threat to cut her off had not been idle, but she also hoped that her mother would continue to underestimate her long enough that she would be able to clear the remaining funds out of her account before her mother froze it. Her pride raged against the idea of taking the idea of taking the money religiously placed into her "allowance" once a month by her father, hating how spoiled that made her sound and wanting to be free of any lingering ties to her parents. She would have gladly traded every last dime for any other monthly ritual with her father, for anything with him really. But she was a casualty of her parents' failing marriage, the only thing that they hated more than each other was the idea of acknowledging that their marriage had long since fallen apart. Her father avoided the house like the plague, and her by extension, throwing himself deeper and deeper into his professional life to mask the failure of his personal one. And so their relationship had become almost completely transactional, her father attempting to atone for his absence by providing her with everything she could ever dream of, save for the one thing she truly wanted - his affection. But as much as she hated the money and everything it represented, she really wasn't left with much of a choice.

That was how she found herself standing in front of a bank teller at 1:30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, lying through her teeth and praying that her voice wasn't shaking as much as her hands. Exactly how she had got there she wasn't sure - a bus? Surely she hadn't walked this far - she was completely focused on getting what money she could and getting out.

The process was certainly made easier by the fact that she had been coming to this branch since her father had opened the account on her sixteenth birthday. And maybe for once in her life her twisted frame would be an asset - it was difficult to forget a girl her age with flaming red hair and a cane.

So she lied. She told the teller that she was using the money to put towards a car but that her parents were unfortunately too busy to accompany her. That part wasn't even really a lie, her parents were always too busy. Either way the teller didn't seem to see anything unusual about depositing the entire $5000 balance into Wilhemina's hand, before politely wishing her a pleasant day.

She had thought she would feel safer with the money in hand, feel like she had more control over the situation. In fact all it did was make her realise how vulnerable she was. How she would never be able to defend herself if someone decided they wanted to take it from her. Maybe her mother had been right, maybe she really was too broken and useless to survive on her own.

She could feel her heart racing. She had to find somewhere to stay. Find somewhere that she could get off the street. Maybe then she would feel safer. Maybe.

Except she didn't know how long she would need to make that $5000 last. She had no job and had effectively forfeited her degree the minute she walked out her parents' front door. Any future prospects she had were tied to their connections anyway. Oh god, what was she going to do? She had no experience and no qualifications, and any jobs that would have been open to her without those were made impossible by her twisted spine. She wouldn't have been able to stand for long enough to finish a shift as a waitress, let alone carry much whilst also maneuvering her cane.

So she would have to make the money last. At least until she managed to come up with a better plan. Which is how she found herself unpacking her meagre possessions into a battered shell of a room in a run down hotel that offered rooms by the hour. As she eased herself down onto the bed, finally allowing her back some respite after hours on her feet, she reasoned that this was the best choice for now. And she would think of something, this was only temporary.

But it hurt. The adrenaline from her triumphant exit earlier that morning was long gone and now she was left with the painful reality of what life on her own would look like. At the moment it consisted of a sea of mismatched floral patterned fabrics, a green melamine kitchenette and far too many questionable stains.

She felt like she was suffocating, that the battered walls with their pealing wallpaper were steadily encroaching on her, squeezing the last ounces of calm and confidence out of her by force. She had to get out, had to keep moving, had to keep busy lest the reality of her situation catch up to her and drown her in its melancholy.

She burst from the room, shaking fingers struggling clumsily against the lock. She had to get away, to be anywhere but here. Away from the stale smelling room with the pealing wallpaper. Away from the lumpy bed swathed in garish floral covers of questionable cleanliness. Away from the suffocating reminder of how alone she was.

It shouldn't have surprised her that she would end up back in the college library, it's where she spent most of her time any way, finding any excuse she could not to go home. It was quiet and it was safe. Between the warm, dim lighting and the earthy smell of the old wooden shelves and the books themselves Wilhemina finally began to calm. She could feel the tension to funnel out of her trembling fingers, feel heart finally stop racing and draw her first real breath in hours.

She didn't know how long she sat there, not really seeing or hearing the world around her, just being, adjusting. Letting her body and mind begin to come to terms with her situation. Start to reset her parameters and realise that she wasn't going home tonight, that there wasn't a home to go anymore. Perhaps there never had been, not in the ways that mattered.

She was drawn from her haze by the gentle but insistent whispering of her name that indicated that this wasn't the first time the owner had tried to rouse her. As her vision cleared she was met with the kind, if not slightly concerned countenance of her adviser, Professor Thompson.

"Is everything alright, Wilhemina?" She could only nod dumbly in response. "I missed you in class this morning" the older woman added. "I know you said had a specialist appointment and might be late, but I got worried when you never showed up. Did everything go ok?" Wilhemina couldn't find the words to answer, couldn't find a way to explain how her life had been pulled out from under her in the preceding few hours. Her mouth guppied in response, producing several sounds that could have been the start of ideas but nothing intelligible.

Professor Thompson's brow furrowed. Over the years that she had known Wilhemina Venable she had always been impressed by her tenacity. For all this young woman had endured, she had refused to let it define her. She was always the first present in class, sitting front and centre, attention never wavering, even on the days Professor Thompson could see the tell tale signs of pain breaking through her indifferent facade. The tension in her brow and jaw, the twitch of her lips and narrowing of her eyes at each spasm, the shifting in her seat in a desperate effort to find some level of comfort. There was a hardness, a determination in the eyes of that girl which said she refused to give up which was notably absent now, replaced by a glazed, foggy expression that made Professor Thompson's heart hurt.

"Wilhemina," she tried again, "would it be easier if we discussed this in my office?" The redhead's eyes rolled up to meet hers almost drunkenly, obviously still not entirely processing the world around her. She managed a small nod, vacant eyes focusing somewhere in the middle distance. "Here, let me take your bag" she offered, hands floating just beyond Wilhemina's shoulders as the redhead hoisted herself to her feet, swaying slightly as she found some semblance of equilibrium.

Professor Thompson couldn't help but bring a hand to gently cup Wilhemina's upper arm, causing the younger woman to finally meet her gaze. Oh and didn't it just break her heart, the pleading terrified desperation she found in those deep brown eyes. "Come on, dear" she coaxed, "this way."

Wilhemina felt herself start to come back into her own body as she sat in Professor Thompson's office, old worn leather chair beneath her and warm cup of sweetened tea pressed into her trembling hands.

Professor Thompson noticed the change as well. "Easy, dear" she cautioned, as Wilhemina's shaking hands tried to raise the warm mug to her lips. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes" Wilhemina managed to rasp.

Professor Thompson reached out her hand to rest on Wilhemina's knee, rubbing slow comforting circles. "Do you think you can me what happened? Was it something at your appointment? Do you need another surgery?"

"No" Wilhemina whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the older woman, who's warm gaze encouraged her to continue. "The surgeon doesn't want to do anything, doesn't think it's necessary to do anything. My mother on the other hand is not satisfied and won't be until I look *normal*"

"I'm sure she just wants the best for you" the older woman tried.

"She wants me to stop being an embarrassment. She flat out told the surgeon she doesn't care about my pain, she only wants him to fix how hideous I look." It was happening again, Wilhemina realised, the years of repressed pain and frustration spewing out of her unbidden. "The surgeon stopped recommending procedures when I was eighteen because they weren't likely to help but my mother kept insisting because I looked so hideous she couldn't stand it. She put me through years of pain because I was so ugly and she was so ashamed of me." Her voiced cracked as the tears she had tried so hard contain broke free down her cheeks.

"She was trying to do it again" Wilhemina choked. "She was trying to convince him to operate again and I finally told her no."

"And how did she take that?" Professor Thompson asked, almost fearing the answer. Wilhemina let out a self-depricating laugh through her tears, rolling her eyes. "Wilhemina," she added urgently, gently squeezing her knee to get her attention, "she didn't hurt you, did she?"

Wilhemina stopped at that. "Not physically, no." A beat of understanding passed between the two women before Wilhemina continued. "She threw me out, cut me off, told me I was completely on my own unless I agree to have the surgery. Told me I can kiss my degree goodbye." The older woman gasped. "I told her she could have it, I was done with her controlling my life."

Professor Thompson reached out to take Wilhemina's hands, squeezing them in her own. "That was so incredibly brave." Wilhemina let out a wry chuckle "You don't think I'm completely mad?" Another warm squeeze of her hands. "Absolutely not. I think you are so strong."

Wilhemina raised her eyes again to meet those of her professor, searching them for the signs of a lie. Finding none she felt her chin begin to tremble as she fought against the tears.

She lost. The tears came bubbling out of her against her will. Tears for the years of pain she had endured, both physical and emotional, at her mother's hands. Tears for the little girl who spent years in pain trying to convince her parents that it wasn't all in her head. For her childhood that had been stolen from her. For the little girl alone in a hospital, who's parents were far too busy to visit, who was left to rely on nurses for comfort and support. For the twenty four year old woman who had just lost everything.

She curled in on herself as much as her twisted spine would allow, rocking rhythmically backwards and forwards, trying in vain to offer herself some comfort. She felt the chair next to her dip and then she was being cradled in her advisors arms - how embarassing. But try as she might she couldn't quiet the hysterical sobs.

Eventually pulled herself out of the older womans arms, trying to regain some level of dignity. Professor Thompson gave her hands one last squeeze as she let her go.

"We will find a solution to all of this" she assured "but for now all of that can wait. You need to eat and you need to sleep. You must be exhausted" Wilhemina nodded, still frantically pawing at her tear-stained cheeks. There was no point hiding anymore, not after her earlier display.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" Professor Thompson asked. "You're welcome to my spare room if not"

"No it's fine" Wilhemina replied, glad to avoid imposing on her professor further. "I have a hotel room."

"Ok I'll drive you" Wilhemina tried valiantly to rebuff Professor Thompson's kindness, but the older woman would not be dissuaded. And once Wilhemina realised how dark it had gotten she was secretly grateful.

As the car came to a stop in front what currently passed for Wilhemina's lodgings, Professor Thompson took her hand once more. "After work tomorrow" she pressed "I am picking you up and you are having dinner with me. It will give us a chance to come up with a plan for what happens next. I refuse to see someone as smart and driven as you are, Wilhemina, be sabotaged by negligent parenting. We will figure this out."

Wilhemina couldn't even bring herself to try and rebuff such kindness, for how her heart ached for it. Instead all she could manage was a watery "okay" and tremulous smile. As she walked back to her room she felt lighter than she had all day, tension finally beginning to drain from her body like water trickling down her arms and plummeting from her fingertips.

Exhaustion quickly rose to fill vacancy making her limbs heavy and fingers clumsy. Almost there, she told herself as she struggled with foreign keychain, not much longer. Just inside the door and then you can rest. But try as she might her exhausted mind could not make sense of the lock nor could it co-ordinate her trembling fingers well enough to keep hold of the keys which fell limply to the concrete just beyond her door.

It was as if the universe was laughing at her, she thought, as she gingerly squatted down, bending her legs to compensate for her immobilised spine. After all the humiliation she had endured today she could not be allowed to rest without at least one more reminder of her inadequacy. So fucking useless, the voice in ear chided, so fucking stupid. Hurry up and pick up the god damn keys and open the door like a normal, functional human being. Can you manage that much at least?

And maybe she could have managed it had the hand she extended to reach for her keys not been firmly crushed into the concrete and pulled away from her by a steal-capped boot, upsetting her precarious equilibrium and sending her sprawling face first into the concrete.

"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?"

A/N: Ok, so number one - I'm sorry (ducks). I promise I won't hurt her too much. This part wasn't even in my original plan but then the angsty little plot demons took over and here we are. Number two - for those of you who are interested I wrote Professor Thompson with Prof. Stromwell (Holland's character from legally blonde) in mind because I think she is exactly the type of tough but caring person that baby Mina would be drawn to. But also because I'm dying to see Sarah and Holland work on a project together, so this was my own vicarious little head cannon.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (13/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Every year, for a few weeks at a time, life had a tendency of stopping.

And it had been following that same pattern for the past few years.

For Levi, the first signs of the freeze came when the last few red leaves fell to the ground, revealing the branches underneath. The trees were bare, the wind chill was cruel and the sky was constantly grey.

But the freeze was only a prelude that accompanied something much more daunting.That period of time in particular manifested as some sort of a limbo. That painful limbo where every student was suddenly reminded that maybe taking five classes at once was a bad idea.That limbo were suddenly all students ever had to think about were those five classes they were taking. Yet for some reason, everyone still found a reason to be stressed.

No training. No club activities.

Just deadline after deadline. Group work after group work. Exam after exam.

Of course it would be stressful. Since for many people, those last few submissions leading up to the holidays were always the most decisive. Making that deadline, making something of quality in that deadline always spelled the difference between honors and mediocre, a C for a degree or a failing F. Especially since for the first few months of school anyway, the urgency never hit.

Levi never had been one of those students gunning for honors. The regular tournaments and the twice a day training and the human need for some rest afterwards always meant that Levi was only barely passing most classes while every now and then scoring a B in one.

He was one of those people who thought of the final few weeks of school as some sort of a messiah, some last chance to pull a D to a C or if he were lucky a B. And those periods in limbo blurred so easily into hazy memories of sleepless nights, irrationally strong hate over some particularly shitty groupmate and those few hour long exams where Levi could have sworn his heart hadn’t even been beating.

He hadn’t expected his senior year to be any different. But on the days leading up to finals week, he started to realize he had fewer exams, a little more papers than usual. A side effect of being a senior in a non science course.

It could have been the luck of the draw maybe but his teachers had been kind and had requested he just send everything over.

Two requirements and One thesis. And Levi could always do it from the comfort of the study hall in the dorm.

The study hall was a medium sized building, most frequented by dormers.

One of its most notable characteristics was the window wide enough that anyone studying would be almost incapable of ignoring the scenery just outside. And in winter, the grey sky, the bare trees and the glass of the window that would fog up at the lightest caress were the main constants of the scenery. And even if it was impossible to ignore for most students, Levi didn’t think too much of it that winter in particular. Since the days leading up to deadlines, Hange had been right next to him.

There were those few moments in between studying when he would allow himself some reprieve. Picking what to focus on had never been a challenge. The dreary early winter scenery felt chilly even from the comfort of the heated study hall yet without even trying and Hange emitted a warmth that had resonated more powerfully than any feelings and preconceived notions rooted in his four years in a bubble. Her hums, her thoughtless mutters even her unfocused brown eyes the few times she looked up to give herself a quick rest, without even trying, they had felt warm and welcoming.

Maybe because just those small actions had been more than enough for Levi to feel very much connected to someone. For the first winter in his college life, Levi wasn’t alone

Although with the long hours studying, they never went too far beyond exchanging some few words, engaging some small talk. When their brains were completely fried, there wasn’t much else they could discuss anyway.

But they didn’t need to talk. Levi already felt it --- as he allowed the scratching of pen and paper and the familiar clack of the keyboard to keep him company in the stark silence of the study hall--- she had done her part to make that early a winter warmer than it usually was. She had done her part as well to make that limbo, that harsh in-between classes and holidays, almost enjoyable, a significant improvement from that limbo he had always braced himself to power through, every single year.

As he became a little more aware of her constant company, sometimes he could imagine the limbo had never been there, and it had all been a faint memory, a faint illusion of his life before.

And all Hange had to do was be there. Even when she was silent, highlighting line after line, cross checking journals and study guides, Hange managed to find a way to still be present.

When it came to studies, Hange’s case was a stark contrast to his, more urgent and more demanding, almost admirable. She had a full load and although Levi never did memorize her schedule, he figured it out soon enough having spent the days leading up to the exams cooped up with her in the study hall.

Exam after exam after exam.

And Hange was never without her laptop, her printed out study guides and her ebook reader. And she had been that way, all the way until the last day of exams, when the lobby of the dorm had emptied out, the hallways to his room a lot less busy and when Levi was particularly less self conscious about the awkward way he pulled his injured self up the stairs to his dorm room every night.

Everyone had gone home for the holidays already. And soon enough, it wasn’t such an odd sight to see just her familiar shape alone in the study hall.

The first day she didn’t have study guides felt like a big change.

He picked her out so easily, especially when there was nobody else hunched over their own notes. And Levi who had sat with her every single day in the study hall couldn't help but celebrate such a tiny development. “You’re done with exams?” He asked as he settled on the chair in front of her.

“One final paper,” Hange said, not looking up from her laptop.

“And then winter break?”

“And then I can finally work on my thesis.”

“Any ideas?”

“Yeah, some.”

“So you’ll probably be working during the break huh?”

Hange sat back on the chair and crossed her arms. “You know, I’m lucky enough the department is still allowing me to make a thesis even without a proposal presentation."

"At least you get to graduate on time."

"I know. This is just a weird place to be when at the start of the year, I was gunning for some best thesis award. Now I’m the only student in my block who’s disqualified. And on top of that, I’m starting from scratch again.”

“You could have continued from the last one.”

Hange closed her laptop and rested her chin on her hand. “I didn’t pick that topic because I wanted to. I just felt it was the most practical option. And when I consulted my parents, they said that was the best option to save time.”

“And it was.”

“But it felt weird. I couldn't bring myself to ask you the right questions or check your knee everyday. You were constantly in pain, sad, for a while you might even have been depressed…” Hange trailed off. She looked outside at the scenery on the other side of the window.

Levi could almost see the grey reflected on her eyes.

Hange continued. “I thought back to how you fucked up your knee and I realized I was reckless. When you scraped your knee I was there, then I pushed you to jump for my thesis and when I fucked up your life… and you never felt it even a little weird or annoying that I would be getting something out of it?" She looked at him as if expecting him to say something.

"I made the decision to push myself. Not you."

“Levi, please be honest. did I pressure you?” That was the moment, Hange chose to meet his gaze. She had a pleading look in her eyes that only made it difficult for Levi to reach within him for him some sort of a response.

He had the answer and it was so easily within reach. Yes, she did pressure him. But was that something he would have wanted to admit?

And when he started to ask more questions, he soon started to ask another more important question, was it Hange who had pushed him to do it? Or was it this image of Hange he was projecting onto her?

“You didn’t pressure me,” Levi said.

“Then why were you working so hard? Why did you push yourself?”

“Because… I felt pressured.”

“If not me, then by what? What pressured you?”

“Myself?” And by extension, everything else maybe? Captain Levi? Commander Hange Zoe? He added to himself. But he wasn’t crazy enough to say it.

“But here’s the thing, I could have sworn you were much calmer than that during the competitions. Actual competitions. But then since we met, ever since you scraped your knee, you were pushing yourself more than usual, you were much more tense. What were you working so hard for?”

“I pressured myself.”

“For what?” Hange’s eyes were boring holes into him. “I’m not your coach. Hell, I’m not an arbiter. I’m not an Olympic team scout. All I needed was your data for a thesis nobody was probably going to read anyway.”

“Don’t you have a paper to finish?”

“The final deadline is next week and I’m more than halfway done already. I have more than enough time to talk,” Hange said. Her face morphed into something a little more desperate. “Levi, I wanna know, what did I do wrong?”

At that moment, Levi froze. His eyes were completely fixed on hers, and he could only watch the way she started to study him, as if searching for an answer in the way he sat, the way he leaned back on the chair, the way he gripped the corner of the table. At once, Levi had become aware of all of his nervous ticks.

The tension in the room was thick enough at least for Levi to tell, that he wasn’t the only one feeling the discomfort. He willed himself to lean back further, get a wider view of her and he noticed the subtle signs, her hands were shaking, her lips were letting out a hint of a tremble.

Hange seemed to be in a similar state, self conscious and nervous. Maybe even ready to repent for whatever she had believed she had done wrong. As if she almost wanted to hear insults, criticisms and she even seemed ready to take a punch in the face.

But Levi’s thoughts were far from that.

The day they met, she had introduced herself and had approached him like they were close friends already.

The night they met, she had hid in the dark, watching silently while he trained. That night, she had stitched up his knee.

And in that process, she made him remember things.

You made me remember things.

And those things were what had pushed him to ‘tense up,’ to ‘work hard’ and to impress her.

But really was it anything wrong?  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Levi said. “I told you, I made the decision to push myself on my own.”

“But what did I do to push you?”

“Do you have to be doing something to push me? What if I just met you? And I thought, I wanna help her write her thesis then things happened, then overtime I realized I’m enjoying this.”

Hange shrugged. “You pitied your biggest fan enough to give her a freebie huh?”

“I said ‘I’d gladly stay by your side.’” I don’t think people give promises like that as freebies.”

“But you just met me.”

“You haven’t even met me and you were already keeping pictures of me like some sort of stalker.”

Hange only smiled at such an accusation. Within the few months, they had gotten used to a little banter after all. “Are you just humoring me?”

“No. I’m not. I’m happy to have met you and I said it then, I’ll say it again. If you want me to, I’ll stay by your side.”

“It’s just weird, okay. You have a lot more fans than you think you do. And you get friendly with me, some frumpy nerdy fan who followed your tournaments like crazy….”

“What other explanation would you like for this? Soulmates? Fate?”

“I don’t believe in any of those,” Hange said. “I don’t wanna believe in it. I like to think that I just made the decision to reach out to you. And I just got lucky you decided to reciprocate.”

“Then I got lucky you reached out too, Hange. This goes both ways.”

“I guess it does.” Hange closed her laptop and looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry if this came out of nowhere. With my last exam over, this was the only time I got to think about it again. But you know, thanks for staying here with me even if I was ignoring you half the time.”

“I knew you had a lot to make up for and besides, I’m fine just quietly sitting by.”

Hange’s features softened into a warm smile. “Me too. I’ll make this up to you. If I get this paper written by Friday. I’ll submit then. After that, you wanna go somewhere? Just the two of us?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to work on your thesis?”

“Your birthday is on the 25th right? But I wanna do something for Christmas so I’m thinking... what if we have an early birthday celebration and we do something else for Christmas?

“You know that’s my birthday Hange, I get to decide how I wanna spend it.”

“But what if it’s my treat?”

“It’s still my birthday.”

Hange gave him a long look. “Okay, what about this? I’m hoping to use your stories for references to my thesis. And I wanna make it up to you… I’ll treat you out on Saturday for that then after, you decide what you wanna do on your birthday.”

“I never said we couldn’t do that for my birthday.”

“Well if you were just more direct with things we wouldn't have to bounce off ideas like this back and forth. Are we celebrating your birthday early or not?”

“And besides I never even said anything about you using my stories for your thesis.”

“Just answer the questions one at a time Levi,” Hange pressed. She checked her watch. “And...I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.”

“Before I answer, what’s your thesis about?”

Hange looked ready to pull her hair out in frustration. “I don’t know yet but I might use it. Anyway, if you’re not gonna answer me, then we treat this Saturday as my celebration for your birthday. Deal?”

“Yes to the thesis. Yes to the early birthday. Are you happy?”

Hange let out a loud sigh of exasperation. “There. Why did that take so long to get out of you?”

Levi ignored that question. “So when are you going to tell me what your new thesis is about?”

“Maybe during your actual birthday? If you bestow on me the privilege of celebrating such an important occasion with you?“ Hange suggested. She quickly gathered her things and dumped it into her canvas bag. Her movements were wilder, messier than usual. So messy Levi found himself cringing at such a sight. He was fairly certain Hange had done that on purpose.

He only confirmed it a second later, as Hange bolted towards the door and gave him the most smug face.

Levi was sure, if he wasn’t so injured, he probably would have bolted right after her. And he was certain he would have caught up to her.

***

“Nice hoodie. The color green really suits you,” Hange called in a way of greeting.

There were no hi’s or hello’s and she hadn’t given one in a while. Yet for some reason, such an unconventional greeting still had Levi raising eyebrows. “Is this your way of making up for a few days ago?”

Hange shrugged. “What if I just wanted to compliment your new hoodie?”

“For one, this is not a new hoodie,” Levi said. “Besides we didn’t separate on the best of terms last Wednesday and you didn’t even reply to my messages after.”

“Well, I finished my paper and I started my thesis… And hey... I did leave you some messages.”

Levi was sure he didn’t receive any messages. He did not receive any notifications for sure. On top of that, he had taken the liberty as well to check back to his inbox every hour or so. Just to make sure his notifications were actually working

But still just in case he was mistaken, he checked his phone under her confused yet watchful gaze only to find that in fact he was right, she didn’t send any messages. He opened up to their untouched chat box and showed it to her.

“Did you check your document?”

“My document?”

“The one with the soldier and titan stories.”

“Why the hell would you leave messages there?”

“I was catching up to it okay.” Hange’s lips curled up into a smile as she spoke. “And I really enjoyed it. A lot. I left so many comments there. I thought you’d reply.”

Levi looked away guiltily. He turned off the notifications on the document a few weeks back. He liked to blame finals week for the inactivity. Yet with all his final papers completed and submitted, he was still making a conscious effort to ignore that document.

But did he want to tell her that? For a while maybe he did consider telling her he had no intention of touching it again.

But Hange continued talking. “When Commander Hange told Captain Levi to live with him in the woods… Wow you know you described it pretty well, I could almost imagine what was happening. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I managed to dream up something like that. But why did you have to end like that?” Hange twisted her face into a little too serious of an expression. “Shoot or listen it’s up to you.” Hange repeated, an attempt at mimicking Captain Levi for sure, but it was too comical given the context of the tirade.

Shoot or listen it’s up to you.

What if Captain Levi got shot? Before Levi could speak up though, Hange pressed on.

“Now that exams are over… are you gonna write more?”

Levi didn’t reply. Or at least, he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize a reply. Maybe he had brought his head up then down, in the form of some small nod. Maybe it could have been just him looking up to see the crowds making their way to the train station.

The train station closest to their university was one of the busiest ones in town. Even a little past eight on a Saturday morning, there were still crowds large enough that navigating through them still required some effort.

And whether Hange had seen that nod, or whether she had been too distracted by the buying of tickets and the navigating of crowds, Levi never thought too much about it. He brushed the thought aside as soon as she herself abandoned that topic of conversation and the question she asked only a second ago.

And she didn’t push that topic of conversation any longer. Even after they arrived at the platform, even after they boarded the train.

Train rides were always quiet. No one really ever started conversation in trains, instead passing the times with their phones on silent mode, save for a few children who still weren’t completely familiar yet with that unwritten rule

At that moment though, Levi was thankful. Hange was silent. He was silent. And he had a little more mind space to decide how to navigate the topic of his story.

Just in case she did ask again.

***

“Question, so is that the type of green that you imagined for the survey corps cloak?” Hange asked, pinching the sleeve of his hoodie.

Levi looked down at his hoodie. The hoodie was of a dark green color, and he only had to take a glance to put two and two together. “Yes it is.”

“I thought it would be. You know this is the same green I’m imagining.”

Levi smiled. He met Hange’s gaze and even when Hange had looked away, making her way to the park entrance, he made an effort to follow her gaze.

“You thought this far huh?” Levi asked, as she stopped at the turnstile and inserted her ticket then his ticket in.

Hange grabbed a flyer on the way out and looked back at him. “It was a good read. I really felt like I was in the story. And you know, it might sound weird but I kinda really saw myself in her. You know that passion she felt, with the titans and all… I think I’ve felt something similar back when I was still winning competitions when I was younger. I did loads of research back in high school.”

Levi only had to look back at the long hours he had spent stalking her on article after article to confirm that she was telling the truth.

Hange’s rambles about her research in high school though soon faded into some good background noise. He remembered some points, he forgot some. Then, his main focus though had been the green scenery that welcomed him as soon as they exited the train station. The station exit had opened up to a park, a large park with no end in sight. Only flowers and shrubs that lead up to trees with the mountains and horizons at the back of it all.

“When I was reading your story, they talked about what lay beyond the walls… For some reason, I imagined this park. I saw it on a documentary a few years back, streams that seem like they stretch out for eternity, miles and miles of mountains and forests. They said, when you step out of the station, it would feel like another world. And when I thought about what to do for your birthday...” Hange trailed off as she stepped forward into the main path. “I thought… why not show you the scenery I imagined? Maybe I could contribute to your story, help inspire you to write. I hope this view didn’t disappoint.”

It doesn’t. It’s beautiful.

Thinking about it, of course there had been a little more people exiting the train at that station. Of course the station would be much larger and a little more exquisite than other stations.

The view proved to be very much worth the three hour travel and the struggle of changing trains.

They had taken a regional train, then had switched to a few local ones. And looking out the window of the train then, Levi had appreciated how the landscape quickly changed almost blending across one another, the bare trees which almost had a grey tint to them, had gradually shifted to dull bare rice fields. Somewhere in between, the evergreen trees made their entrance, slowly then all at once, in some strange sort of way that Levi was never able to pick out the exact moment that he was sure, the evergreen trees were there to stay for good.

The snow had yet to fall there, and with the evergreen trees and the moss and lichens that littered the paths, Levi could at least pretend it wasn’t winter yet.

Green after all, was a very warm color.

Hange opened her map and leaned a little closer towards Levi so he could get a good look. The map was all green, decorated with markers, mini mountains, rest houses, water refill areas, toilets and picnic sites. There were flower symbols, marked by season. And skirting the circumference of the map were three circles: a large green one, inside it a red one, inside it a yellow one, a very small circle that covered two picnic areas and one flower area occupied the center and next to it a bright red arrow marker ‘You are here.’

“So, I know you wouldn’t be able to handle too much of a walk yet, so we could stick to something short? Just skirt around this area…” She traced the smallest circle along the park and turned to him expectantly.

“What do you wanna see?” Levi asked.

“Anything really. I’m just happy to be able to visit a park like this.”

“No, really Hange. What do you wanna see?” Levi pressed. He planted his bum leg on the ground and stepped forward with it with a little more finesse as if to prove a point. I can walk at least. “If I wasn’t injured right now, where would you have pulled me to go?”

There was some progress at least. He was surprised to see that he could put some extra weight on his knee without so much as a wobble. The stiff brace was probably doing all the work then but Levi was confident he could get a good number of steps across before tiring out his body.

“I’m sure we both don’t want another hospital visit.,” Hange warned.

“I’m fine. I’ve had enough physical therapy lessons and I managed to put some weight on my knee already. Even without the brace..”

For a second, there was a glimmer of hope in Hange’s eyes. She blinked it back before Levi could be sure. “I’m fine with the shortest path,” she said. “This blue one.”

“Are you sure? All we’re gonna see if we follow this path are two picnic sites, a mini forest and one portapotty. You’ll be disappointed.”

“But Levi, what if you get injured again?”

“Didn’t you say this was my birthday treat?”

“We can always go again---”

“In the summer? After you finish your thesis?” Levi raised one eyebrow at her in accusation. “We endured a three hour train ride for this. Let’s make the most of it.”

“Then… which path do you wanna follow?” Hange asked.

Levi gently placed one finger on the green one and traced it. He had only gone half way before Hange pulled the map away.

“No way. That’s at least a five kilometer hike,” Hange said.

Levi pulled the map back gently and pointed at the markers. “Come on, the landscape here seems pretty flat and there’s a forest here and a river. And if we walk ahead here... I’m guessing you wanna see the mountain? They built an observatory there,” Levi said. “Didn’t you say you wanted to know how it feels like to fly?”

Hange’s face turned a little red, her eyes looking a little unfocused as she followed the map with her eyes and looked ahead at the scenery. When Levi squinted, he could tell the peak which stood out from the rest, the small lump that stuck out on one of the hills, a little higher than the rest.

“You didn’t get to do this a lot when you were a kid huh?” Levi asked. He didn’t intend it to be a provocation at first. But when Hange folded her map and took a deep breath, he was grateful for those last few words that popped into his head then.

“My parents didn’t really like taking vacations in the countryside,” Hange admitted.

“One round around there, maybe we’ll go all the way up to the observatory and back,” Levi said. “And if my knee starts hurting, I promise, I’ll tell you.”

Hange’s lips curled up into a playful smile. “If I need to, I’ll carry you back.” She walked ahead, gesturing for him to follow. Levi was almost tempted not to follow. That little playful of an offer and the uncertainty that came with Levi wondering a little too hard about whether she was kidding or nothing, had him entertaining the idea of turning his back on her for a second.

Just to mess with her.

The view had been much stronger then, the way the sun shone on Hange and reflected on her glasses had been too beautiful of a view. It had been a while since he’d seen that much green.

And it wouldn’t be that way for the next three months at least.

As he followed her to the path that followed that large green sign, Levi started to think, maybe that experience might just be worth the embarrassment of a piggy back ride on the way back.

***

Man down!

Hey! Are you alive?

“So the river must be pretty near here huh...” Hange said, not looking up from the map.

Levi had heard the sound of the rushing water stream before she had mentioned it. Whether it had been a river or a stream, he didn’t bother trifling with such detail. The trees that lined the main path, and the sound of rushing water had brought him somewhere else, to another time.

“Wanna see the river?” Hange grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards a smaller path that had been unnoticeable from his peripherals.

As Levi looked to the right, to the shrubs that opened up into an empty space, he noticed the remnants of a path almost completely concealed by shrubs.

“Why would you wanna see the river?”

Hange shrugged. “We don’t get to see this much nature often right? If we follow it…. Maybe we can see a waterfall at the end?”

Levi narrowed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen that much nature since he had gone home for a visit more than a few years ago. Maybe that was why the greens and the landscapes had been oddly fascinating.

And Hange. Hange was a lot more entranced than he was. He could have sworn he had lost her a few times to the trees that lined the path.

“We take a look,” Levi said. “Then we go back on the path. I don’t want us getting lost here.”

Hange was too engrossed in her surroundings and then, her eyes had looked a little too wild. But the moment Levi had mentioned that last part, Hange twisted her face into a pout, a pout of defeat at least. “You’re right. Let’s just check out the river here and go back the way we came.” She clutched his hand, gripping a little tighter than usual. “Your knee is still okay right?”

Levi nodded. There could have been some lie to the reaction but it was still too small of a lie for him to need to justify anything. His knee ached for sure. It was an ache dull enough though for Levi to clock it to the tightness of his brace.

To his relief, the river was only less than a two minute walk away. It had seemed farther due to the dense forest that lined the main path. But the density could have been an illusion as well. It opened up to a treeless plain, just a good few meters of grass and beyond that was a river that harbored such a violent flow of water.

Both violent and peaceful, Levi soon realized. As if it was the river’s business to just run hurriedly towards its destination while at the same time crashing towards the shore.

“The river I imagined was a lot like this,” Hange spoke up.

“What river?”

“The one in your story.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

Levi wondered if his face showed any sign of that little charade. He had recognized it after all, long before Hange had even mentioned it. It turned out, only the rushing sound of water was enough for him to recall it so vividly.

The view in front of him only added salt to the wounds he just recently realized he had.

Phantom wounds. Even the word phantom couldn’t really justify how it felt then. Back he had written it, he could empathize for sure. Then and there, the view in front of him, had him touching his right eye, just to make sure it was still there and soon after, he wiggled his two fingers just to make sure they were still attached.

“Commander Hange found him in a river like this right? Did you imagine this kind of river too?”

“Maybe,” Levi muttered. He didn’t think too far as to the width of the river or the shape of the blades of grass below. The rushing of the river, the tone of Hange’s voice were enough at least to make him realize that could have very much been the river banks she had found him on. “Commander Hange would now.” Levi added a second later.

Hange cleared her throat. “Well then, I’ll make you imagine it. Call me commander Hange Zoe,” Hange said. “So after the river, where did we go next, Captain Levi?”

“You read it right?”

“They jumped into the river together,” Hange said.

Levi’s eyes widened. “They did?” Levi had dreamt of splashes, the cold water slapping at his face and the numbness that followed. Of course that would have meant them jumping into the river. But why had it taken him so long to put two and two together? “Yeah you’re right. They did.”

Hange chuckled. “Weren’t you the one who wrote it?” She looked back at the dense foliage behind them and back at him. “Let’s go back?”

“Yeah… Sure…” Levi turned on his heel, making his way back to the path only stopping when Hange grabbed at his arm and put it around her shoulder.

“You’re walking much slower now you know,” she said. “Should we go back?”

Levi shook his head. “No, keep going.” His weight on her shoulders was a familiar sensation, almost nostalgic. And the green around him, the breeze and the peaceful rustle of leaves only helped to comfort him further.

There may have been some others along the trail, but Levi wasn’t looking at anyone else. Along the way on the path, the small support had evolved to a piggy back ride.

Surprisingly, Levi wasn’t at all self conscious.

“You’re much lighter than I thought you would be.”

“I honestly feel like I’ve lost weight since the injury. I probably had a lot more muscle back in the summer.” Levi let his head hang back as he stared up at the blue sky above him. The two stopped for a rest in one of the forest clearings a good few meters away from the path.

The ground beneath him was dirty for sure and he felt the leaves and stones through his thick joggers. For some reason though, he wasn’t at all in a hurry to get up.

Hange squeezed his leg. “I’d think physical therapy would have done something about that.”

“Hange, can anyone actually gain muscle learning how to walk again?”

“I’m pretty sure you do other stuff in therapy.”

“Yeah, but it’s far from the training I used to do for high jumps,” Levi said. “Even if my knee magically heals now, who knows if I’ll even be able to manage a two meter jump again.”

Hange closed her eyes and hummed, seeming deep in thought for a second. “Captain Levi was humanity’s strongest,” she said. “Then he got injured in some explosion and ended up half dead on the banks of the river.”

Levi could only watch silently as Hange pulled her legs a little closer to herself and pressed one finger to her left eye and before he knew it, Levi found himself mirroring that slight movement, the phantom pains returned for a split second.

“But I can’t imagine the story ended there. Humanity’s strongest soldier wouldn’t go out of commission over an injury like that. After that, he had to continue fighting right?” Hange continued.

Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?

If we keep running and hiding, what will that get us.

The rustle of the leaves, the clear sky above him and the way Hange had rested her elbow on her knees, touching her hand to her left eye. Those were more than enough crumbs for Levi to almost hear the conversation in the silence.

Shoot or Listen. It’s up to you.

“He continued fighting,” Levi said. He let out a cough. “No--- They continued fighting. Captain Levi and Commander Hange Zoe did.”

***

“Maybe I should have built a cart,” Hange said as she rested on the bench. She heaved a breath so strong Levi could have believed she had held her breath the whole way to the rest house.

“You didn’t have to support me here. I could have walked it.”

“Believe me Levi, this isn’t much. It’s like just another day in the gym,” Hange said.

“If we were doing this months ago I could have done five rounds of this trail with you on my back.”

Hange grinned. “Is that a challenge?”

“I said five months ago. Not now.”

Levi stretched his arms out, noting how heavy it was then, particularly when compared to months ago. Back then, it had been his arms carrying him over the bar, then and there stretched out in front of him, those same arms felt like dead weight. And the dead weight stretched out to all parts of his body, all the way until his legs, settling particularly on his braced knee.

And for a second, it hurt. Enough for Levi to instinctively put his hand on top of it, an attempt to pacify it before it got unbearable.

A second later, another propped her hand on top of his and Levi followed it all the way up until Hange.

Her face was hopeful, her eyes wide with what could have been curiosity and soon enough, maybe plans and ideas. “When your knee heals, let’s do this again,” she said.

The path wouldn’t change. It would pass by the same glades, the same rivers and through the halfway point that was the rest house.

The seasons would change the scenery for sure, each would bring its own flavor to the paths. But Levi was sure that wasn’t what Hange was thinking about then as she looked elsewhere, first scanning her surroundings then settling somewhere above.

Levi didn’t have to follow her gaze to know it. It had been the main attraction since they had gotten past the forest and into the clearing.

Of course, that was what Hange would have liked to see.

There was a reason the rest house had been placed so conveniently there at that halfway point. In front of the rest house, the mountain path broke into a fork, one with the green sign which would loop back to the entrance, the other snaked up the mountain, so steeply Levi was sure in his current state, he would only injure himself further if he attempted to climb to the top.

And what lay above there, was the observatory, the one lump he had remembered seeing from the entrance of the station.

We walked that far? Levi thought to himself then. He looked to Hange who was still very much focused on the view of the observatory from their place on the bench.

You’re still looking at it? “You really wanna check it out?” Levi asked.

“The what?” Hange looked back at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“The observatory, on the peak, up there.”

“Maybe next time.” She shrugged, “Even if you insist, I’m not making you climb that.”

The trail was steep enough at least that Levi was sure they’d have to be on all fours for a good majority of that difficult hike.

“You wanna get something to eat?” Hange asked as she held a hand out to help him up.

“Sure.”

The resthouse only offered the bare minimum, rice balls and sandwiches as if they were doing their part to prevent anybody else from overeating mid hike. Those amenities, the indoor benches and the indoor heating was more than enough though for an already exhausted Levi.

It was as if his body realized that it was time to rest, and chose that moment to complain, putting emphasis in particular to the aches and pains on his knee. Even holding on to Hange who had supported him the rest of the way, had brought with it a few more unwelcome pains and even Levi’s shoulders that had not done much but tense up as he held on to Hange, were starting to hurt.

“You tired?” She asked in between bites of her riceball.

“I’m having fun.”

“That wasn’t the question,” Hange retorted.

“Aren’t you supposed to be tired, you were pretty much supporting me the whole time.”

Hange rolled her shoulders. “I still workout in between studies. Besides I told you, you’re light.” she said.

But Levi did notice in her flushed face and the way she had paused a few times in between sentences, she was tired. Tired but still very much enjoying it. Tired but still very much unsatisfied.

And he saw it in the way she would sneak glances out the window as if…

“You really wanna climb the hill, don’t you?”

Hange bit her lip, quickly crumpling the empty wrapper of the rice ball. As if that could have been enough to stave whatever conflicted feelings seemed to be boiling inside her.

“It’s fine, okay. You can leave me here first.”

“But… I wanna see that view with you.” Hange said. “We could wait until the summer, when your leg is fully healed. Maybe we could ask Erwin about it…”

“Summer is a long time from now and before that, you’re gonna have to finish your thesis, then you’re gonna have to defend it. Who knows how quickly things will change by then,”

Hange avoided his gaze, instead focusing on the crumpled plastic wrapper in front of her and she held it in her hands like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hange, I can wait here you know.” Levi pressed. “I’ve flown more than enough times to be satisfied for a lifetime. You don’t have to wait for me. Just show me the way next summer.”

Hange required more prodding after that. But Levi had figured out the secret to it already. All he had to do was subtly lead her to the spot where the path quickly bent upwards, to the steep incline, so steep that Levi couldn’t completely get a view of what lay beyond, even with his head bent back it hurt.

Hange’s face though was a little more flushed and there was a sparkle in her eyes. She was almost there.

Levi just had to push her a little closer. “It might get cold up there.” He removed his hoodie and handed it to her. “I’ll be waiting inside the resthouse so I’ll keep warm there. Just come back there after you’re satisfied.”

Hange gave him a look of surprise which quickly softened into something that resembled more a puppy that was given their first treat. “Levi….” She quickly put the hoodie on and for a good few seconds, Levi was struggling to find the next words to say.

‘That shade of green… it looks good on you too,” Levi managed to say.

“This is the survey corps green after all right?” Hange said, giving him the most cheeky expression.

“Yes. And it looks good on you, Commander Hange Zoe.” It could have been instinct or it could have been something else. But maybe along the way, he had just gotten used to pushing and prodding at her, the way she had done to him many times before.

He found himself pressing his left fist into her heart, focusing then on the way the fingers on his left hand curled clumsily into a fist. He was right handed, yet it was his left hand that fought for ground on her chest.

“Climb to your heart’s content.”

Dedicate your heart.

As Hange looked up at the steep hill above her, the afternoon sun chose that moment to shine on her, and Levi made out the sweat in her brow.

“To your heart’s content? That’s a pretty cheesy line Levi.”

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that.

And before Levi could even say a last goodbye, beg her to come back, she turned her back to him.

He could have called out to her, he was sure of it. But then, as he watched her climb, he could only stand frozen.

At first, he wanted to attribute it to the chill. He was only wearing one thin sweater, one layer, in almost sub zero temperatures. But the biting cold was the last thing on his mind.

Why didn’t you run after her?

The phantom pains came back. And that time, they weren’t pale in comparison to the rest of the sensations. They took over, as if the view in front of him then had breathed new life into those wounds.

Why couldn’t I run after her?

His whole body ached. His legs were bruised, his stomach was eating him inside out. HIs fingers burned and his face stung of wounds.

And he forced himself to look above him as Hange continued to climb. The sun was streaming right into his face, and even as his eyes burned at such a sight, Levi couldn’t look away.

It was as if the afternoon sun was eating her up, every color in her, the shadows consumed her. And soon, the only thing he could see was a black silhouette, that only got smaller and smaller the longer he looked.

See you later, Hange.

“And then what happened?” Levi muttered to himself, as if saying it out loud would make the dreams and the memories come at him faster.

They weren’t feeling obedient at all that day though.

“What happened to Hange?” He pressed, his voice a little louder than a second ago.

Levi forced himself to look back up as if searching for some sort of an answer in the view in front of him then. The memories and dreams after all had a tendency of washing over him after he fixates on the subject a little longer than necessary.

It never came though and soon enough, her silhouette was small enough to be fully covered by his pinky finger as he reached his hand out and raised his hand over his face.

And he was starting to get a little more desperate. If he couldn’t call out to those memories, he could call out to her, right?

“Hange!” Can you hear me? The memories couldn’t have ended there.

The last view of her was a silhouette, a black silhouette, much farther and much smaller than the one in front of him then. But at that moment, she felt far, completely out of reach.

Levi’s throat burned, his vision blurred as if trying to get rid of even that remnant of view.

Around that time, time stopped. Everything started to dissolve into conglomerations of sights and sounds. He was starting to even have trouble processing the rustling of the leaves and even the voices in the background.

And as he tried to take control of his body then, with the smaller motions, Levi soon started to realize he wasn’t even in control of his fingers, his hands or his legs. He moved the goalposts, attempting to at least take control of breaths, the rhythm as he swallowed that lump in his throat.

His body though was a spiteful thing. As soon as he became aware of those small motions though, it deprived him of those comforts as well.

And Levi soon found himself struggling to breathe, struggling to swallow.

Soon, he was struggling to do anything to remind himself that his body was still his to control.

“Hey, sir are you okay?”

What…

“Hey Levi… Look at me?”

Hange… When did you get here?

Hange’s eyes were fixed on his. And she narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brows as if deep in thought. And in her eyes he saw a glimmer of something else. Concern?

Soon enough, a shadow went over his right eye and before Levi could recoil, it was gone. But the shadow left the cool feeling of something wet under his eyes.

Wet...Tears?

Hange spoke up only confirming it. “Levi… Why are you crying?”

[halpertstuna]

red cheeks - jj maybank

A/N: this was supposed to be a short blurb but you know me, i always have to add way too much details. so let’s just pretend it is. don’t know how i feel about this but i hope you guys enjoy(:

quick reminder, REQUESTS ARE OPEN<3

-> prompt list <-

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2,171

summary: jj knows you always have something to say and gets suspicious when all of the sudden you stop talking back.

warnings: maybe like one mention of smoking, cursing, probs typos and i think that’s it really, if you notice something else lmk

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @anakin-skywalker )

—

Ever since the day JJ first met you, he’s been nothing but a flirt, and you always had something to say about it. Whether it was a sly comeback, a witty comment or a mean burn. From eye rolling to flipping off, you never let him forget he’s got absolutely no chance.

But lately, you’ve been awfully quiet around him, as if your hard exterior all of the sudden became much softer.

And he noticed.

The first time he became aware something changed, was one Thursday afternoon. You parked your car in front of the chateau, exiting it, then made your way towards five folding lawn chairs, two of which were occupied by Pope and Kie’s butts.

“Hey! We haven’t seen you all week! I guess you got John B’s text” Kie greeted you with a warm smile.

You plopped down on an empty chair beside her, filling it with your presence. “Yeah, I’ve been busy,” you stated as you looked around, followed by the question “where is the idiot anyway?”

“i’m right here!”

JJ said like a frisky pup, exiting the chateau as he took a swing of his almost empty beer bottle.

“surprisingly enough, i’m not talking about you this time” you retorted, smiling at him sarcastically.

“He ran out of liquor and chips, so he went to the grocery store to get some more” Pope answered your already forgotten question as JJ’s essence filled the air.

“What do you need him for anyway?” Kie questioned, “I need to talk to him about something”

“You can always talk to me princess” JJ said through a smirk as he sat on the armrest of your chair, then brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, expecting an elbow in his ribs. But nothing followed his action. That’s when he perceived the faintest of flushes creeping up your cheeks.

At the beginning he thought nothing of it, but the way you practically flew out of your lawn chair with John B.’s arrival, made him a bit skeptical.

When John B. parked the Twinkie you offered to help him put away the groceries, and walked him inside with bags of food, snacks and beers in your hands.

As you assisted in unloading the contents of the bags to the fridge and cabinets, he trailed off “So...did you tell him?”

“Shhhh!” He cackled at your reddening face “keep it down Rutledge! Or I swear to god I’ll sew your mouth shut, you indiscreet meatloaf.”

John B. was your best friend far before the other pogues came along, he knew you like the palm of his hand. He always suggested you had a thing for JJ and that you rather enjoyed the attention he gave you, yet you always revoked his claims, stating he was nothing but annoying.

Until you realised John B. might have been right all along.

It happened last Friday. You guys threw a kegger at the boneyard and for the first time, you actually took notice of how JJ gave all of his undivided attention to some touron.

As you stared at the tan boy, you found yourself wishing it were your hip he was caressing.

Suddenly he paid no heed to your existence and that’s when you realised all of your feelings and responses to his so called annoying actions, were you denying yourself to him. And as he talked her up through his enchanting smile, you realised you didn’t want him to give that teasingly, flirty care towards anyone but you, and for a brief moment you found yourself actually missing his antics.

Luckily, you were quite gifted with the ability to hide your feelings, almost no one could see through you. Just almost. Of course you couldn’t hide anything from John B., just by the way your eyes flickered past JJ as he led the touron to the spare room, he noticed something was wrong. Different.

Later that night he nudged you until you broke, admitting your feelings for JJ were true, and during that week, he kept trying to convince you to tell him how you feel. With no luck, you hadn’t said a word. Instead, you had been trying to avoid JJ by avoiding the rest of the pogues.

“Well, did you?”

“No you melon, if I had I would’ve told you, obviously”

“Okay Juliet” he teased and you poked his side making him flinch then chuckle.

“No but seriously, you should do something about it”

“Do something about what?”

JJ chimed in, walking towards the two of your figures that were sat on the kitchen counter.

“Nothing” you said simultaneously. You started feeling nervous and decided to jump off and walk out, leaving the two alone inside.

JJ had a bewildered expression on his face, he was expecting a ‘keep your nose out of my business’, yet instead you just walked passed him avoiding eye contact, which was very uncharacteristic of you.

“What’s up with her today?”

JJ asked as he hopped on the counter, taking over your former spot next to his best friend.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you couldn’t have possibly missed that. She is way nicer to me than usual”

John B. shrugged his shoulders, as if he didn’t know what he were talking about.

Curious, JJ couldn’t help himself, “So... did she ask about me?”

John B. rolled his eyes at the question, he was fully aware that all of JJ’s courtship wasn’t completely an act, he knew JJ was fairly infatuated with you, yet he felt it wasn’t really his place to interfere, knowing you have the right to tell him when you’re ready. And even though he did try to push you to do it, he still knew where to draw the line, not selling off either of his best friends to the other.

“Yes”

JJ looked at John B. wide eyed waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t he impatiently blurted “well!? What did she say!?”

“I believe her exact words were ‘what can I do to get that nitwit to leave me alone’”

JJ jabbed his side and in reply, John B. smacked the back of his head gently, saying “what is with you guys and my ribs today? Leave them at peace you feisty goon”

“She didn’t actually say that right?” JJ tried to play it cool, pretending it didn’t really bother him but it was apparent to John B. he somewhat cared.

“I’m just joking dude, ask her yourself if you want to know so badly” He replied as he too, hopped off the counter joining the rest outside.

At the beginning, JJ was only inquisitive by your behavior, but with time he got suspicious.

You didn’t only stop talking back but stopped being around him as well, like two days later, it was the moment he stepped foot in the chateau that you were all of the sudden in a hurry to leave although only seconds before you were talking about how comfortable the couch was and how you never wanted to get up. Every time he was around, you avoided his eyes, touch and tried to ignore his overall presence, you talked to everyone regularly but whensoever he’d tempt start a conversation, you’d shy away.

He didn’t understand what happened, he even contemplated the possibility you were mad, yet it made no sense, for he couldn’t recollect a reason to why you would be.

He couldn’t recall saying or doing something that could hurt you either, so the only alternative left to think of, was that you actually began hating him.

Unbeknownst to him that your attempts at avoiding him were for the exact opposite reason.

You were petrified that if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way, it would ruin everything.

Sure, he always pinned after you, constantly reminding you how much he did want you, but that was just JJ. He hit on every girl with a heartbeat, you never thought of his gestures as anything more than his sheer nature. So you never even considered to confess your feelings for him.

Two weeks have passes by since you guys all sat together at John B.’s, two weeks since JJ developed his suspension.

You were doing a history assignment when your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up then reflecting on the glass of the framed picture of you and the pogues that was sitting on your nightstand. You decided to ignore it in favour of the unfinished essay, knowing if you checked it now you’d be stuck on your phone for ages.

A couple of hours passed by and you completed all of your work.

You rushed to pick up your phone, practically collapsing onto your bed, ecstatic that you finished and can finally rest. You unlocked it only to find out your very much needed break was over. You had a text from John B. asking you to come over to the chateau asap.

You reluctantly got up and drove to the chateau, wondering what could possibly be so urgent - but not urgent enough to call.

As soon as you got there, you noticed a mop of blond locks peaking out of the hammock, you immediately recognised them as JJ’s.

You tried walking passed him but his words halted you in your tracks.

“He’s not in there,” you turned around to meet his drowsy figure laying on the hammock with a lit joint resting in between his lips.

“And hello to you too” he added, knowing you saw him.

“Hi” you walked closer to him, lips curving into a faint smile.

He diverted his gaze upwards, it was quite for a few moments, then he asked “Are lobsters mermaids to scorpions?” mesmerised by his own question he narrowed his eyes, making you giggle and roll your own.

“JJ, how high are you?”

“Six foot, why?”

You scrunched your nose at his answer, face palming at his stupidity.

“Well i should probably go look for John B.,” you declared beginning to make your way towards your car when he admitted, “I actually sent you that text”.

You turned around with furrowed eyebrows to meet his guilty eyes.

“I’m going home JJ”

“Wait! Please, stay” he plead. “I wanted to talk to you, and I wanted it to be face to face but I knew if the text was sent from my phone you wouldn’t be here right now”.

It took you a moment to comprehend his words, his actions, eventually realising it was true, you gave in. You approached the hammock signaling him to move and he obeyed, you got in and laid beside him, hands on your stomach as an awkward silence filled the air.

“Well, did you swallow your tongue or something?”

He was actually thinking about a way to ask his question in a gradual manner.

“how come you’ve been abnormally nice to me lately?”

But failed.

“what do you mean?”

“oh come on, you‘re nicer than usual”

“i mean, i’ll punch you in the face if you want” you asserted confidentiality as if you didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“I’m serious! First you started ignoring my comments which is very unlike you, since you always talk back. But then you started ignoring me in general. It’s like you always seem to be away when I’m around or at a distance when I try to engage conversation. What’s up with that? Are you mad at me, did i do something?”

“What? No JJ, you didn’t do anything”

“Then why?”

You stayed silent, not wanting to admit you had feelings for him. He continue throwing possibilities, trying to justify your actions, going crazy but knowing you probably won’t tell him what’s going on. And you only grew redder by the minute.

“I mean it’s either I did something to upset you, or- Wait a minute-“

He turned to look at you, a mischievous smile of realisation painted across his face, “you like me”

Your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as you didn’t know what to say yet still tried to stall “I will squeeze your kneecaps”

“You didn’t say no!”

“Why did you get high anyway?”

“It took you two hours to get here, I thought you weren’t coming- Ah! You’re trying to change the subject! you didn’t say no!”

“Just shut up and kiss me you dill hole”

With no hesitation he launched his entire body to his left in an attempt to hover over you and do as told, but instead, he ended up flipping the hammock upside down, hurling both of you onto the solid ground.

You were out of breath as you guffawed, the sound of your heavy laughs mingled filling the air, when his hand found its way to your hair, pulling out a leaf that was tangled in it.

He brushed the loose locks behind your ear, his eyes holding nothing but utter adoration towards the girl beside him, since he now knows, he will never cease to make you blush.

—

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[ninbayphua-moyan]

Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds

Thunderous grey clouds hung heavy in the sky as I made my way towards the lecture hall. My body ached with a bone-deep exhaustion and each leaden step I took felt heavier than the last. I stopped, wanting to turn back, but time and time again, my body refused to obey as my legs carried me towards my destination.

          Half an hour later, I found myself standing outside the empty lecture hall despite the countless hesitations along the way. Sighing, I sank to the floor and closed my eyes, too tired to remain upright. That’s what university does to you. It sucks out your soul, your passion, and your youth, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk of a human being.

           A familiar voice calling my name pricked my hazy, sleep deprived brain and I cracked open my heavy eyelids. My facial muscles moved like clockwork, automatically forming a smile to greet my friend.

           “You look like a corpse!” Chu Ying exclaimed worriedly at the sight of the heavy dark circles beneath my vacant eyes.

           “Haven’t been getting much sleep this week…” I replied with a nonchalant shrug as I quickly scrunched up my eyes until they turned into little crescents of laughter, “assignments due soon.”

           Seemingly convinced by my explanation, she gave me a look of sympathetic encouragement and left. The second no one was looking, I let the smile fall. Amazing what a simple smile could conceal. You could probably murder someone, smile, plead innocent and everyone would believe you. Sighing softly under my breath, I grabbed my bag and joined the gathering crowd of students as they trickled into the dimly lit lecture theatre.

           My laptop sat quietly on the desk, an empty word document laid open on its illuminated screen as the lecturer’s monotonous voiced droned on and on in the background. I should have been taking down notes but my mind was too preoccupied with my issues with the Undergraduate Office to focus on what the lecturer was saying.

           A rhythmic vibration drew my attention towards the phone sitting on my lap. Glancing at the pop-up notification, a wave of anxiety and hope surged through my body as I registered who the sender was – the Undergraduate‘s Office. Quickly, I pulled up the email and immediately felt my heart sinking after reading the first line.

          All seminar groups are full and we cannot move students.

          Lies.

          Another notification, this time, from my personal tutor.

          It’s only week 3, relax.

          Disappointment. Betrayal. Frustration. Anger. I clenched my trembling hands into fists as the tsunami of emotions threatened to explode and spill out of my shaking body. Half of me wanted to storm over to the Undergraduate’s office and let loose the unbridled rage coursing through my veins at the unfair treatment. The other half of me wanted to lash out at my tutor’s condescending advice. My body trembled at the barely, ever so barely contained anger.

          Sixteen thousand pounds. That would be eighty-four thousand two hundred and seventy-nine ringgit each year in school fees. Fees which didn’t even include the amount I needed to spend in order to buy the books required for the modules. Sixteen thousand pounds per year just to get an education, an education that I wasn’t even getting at this point and her advice for me was to relax? How could I when my parents worked their entire youth away, saving every cent just so they could send me, all the way to Britain to get a proper education! Did they even know what the stakes of sending me abroad to study was?!

          My father’s average yearly income is twenty-four thousand ringgits, barely twenty-eight percent of my yearly school fees. Was it that unreasonable to want to be in a class that will allow me to learn and improve after paying for that much money out of my parents’ own pocket?! Why would anyone in their right mind come half way across the globe, paying that ridiculous amount of money, and being so far away from family and home for years, just to fool around? If that had been my intention, I wouldn’t even have bothered going to university in the first place, let alone coming all the way to Cardiff!

          University will be fun they said. You’ll meet open-minded people passionate about learning they said. Hah! That’s the biggest misconception if there ever was one. First of all, the university doesn’t care about whether you actually learn anything so long as you're paying the fees. The majority of lecturers or seminar leaders will only do the most minimal amount of work required and by that, I mean three hundred words of prose only per weekly assignment. What kind of creative work could anyone produce under three hundred words? In prose! Some don’t even bother with critical commentary which is just as essential as the creative pieces. Not only does the lack of practice in writing critical commentaries and limited word count for the creative pieces inhibit students from developing any work of significance, it also underprepares students for the three-thousand-word portfolio due at the end of the semester.

          Secondly, British universities are also especially discriminatory towards outsiders or people of colour, often treating minorities and international students with hostility or disregard. I’ve experienced this discrimination first hand upon requesting a seminar change. Despite having emailed the Undergraduate Office at the same time with the exact same reasons, I was denied the change whilst my British classmate was immediately allowed to swap seminars. The office even went so far as to lie about the class being full even though I was told by the professor leading that very seminar that it wasn’t. So much for the integrity of the institution.

          At the end of the day, international students are nothing but cash cows to British universities.[1] Not only do they have to pay double of what British students pay in terms of fees, they also have to deal with the discriminations that come alongside being an outsider. I understood that in this day and age, education was a business, and that the university itself was, essentially, a business, but doesn’t actual passion for learning still count for something? Or was I wrong in believing in that as well? Oh, so naïve, so very naïve!

          Old memories started to surface amongst the turmoil of emotions. My father and his worn-out clothes, refusing each time to buy new ones for himself just to save a little more money. My mother mending them as best she could whilst we slept, never once complaining. Images of my father’s prematurely greying hair and bloodshot eyes as he worked his health away to provide for his children’s future. My mother’s back bent low, labouring away at some project or another in order to make ends meet. Yet, they never once showed us how tired or how tough things were. There was always enough food on the table and they always had a smile on their faces around us. Sometimes, I noticed that they would eat a lot less than usual but whenever I asked, they merely joked and said they were trying to lose weight. They could have enjoyed their youth, their honeymoon, but they decided to save it all, sacrificing their health and comfort just to ensure mine by sending me here.

          I remember the times where they would secretly check their wallets whenever I begged them to buy me a book. Oh, how those very books painted and fuelled my illusions of Britain’s perfection. If only I had known the reality of it all before applying to study here. But it’s too late for regrets now.

          A sharp stinging pricked the back of my eyes, tears threatening to fall as my body shook with suppressed, uncontrollable rage. Maybe if I was a little braver…maybe if I fought a little harder…maybe if I confronted them a bit more…maybe…maybe…maybe…

          Then as quickly as they appeared, the tsunami of emotions faded away, leaving behind an empty husk. My clenched fists loosen and fell limply at my sides as a quiet, bitter laugh escaped my lips. Nothing was going to change. No matter how hard I fought, the end results will remain the same so what’s the point of even trying in the first place?

          As the cold hard reality of the situation finally presented itself, I slumped against the chair, my empty laptop screen staring blankly back at me. Resignation dragged me deeper and deeper into the murky depths of my mind. I was drowning. No one knew and no one cared. But that’s fine. The ending remains the same regardless. Always the same…

          The sound of rustling papers and loud chatter momentarily draws me out of the murky waters. Realising that the lecture had ended, I gathered my things and shuffled towards the exit, my mind returning once more to the depths of the void. Outside, the rain was pouring. I plodded down the streets drenched to the bone as my legs moved mechanically towards my flat. A stifling numbness engulfed my mind as I trudged on in silence, the howling wind battering my shivering, rain-soaked body from all sides. Rounding the corner, I pulled out a key-card and entered the cramped grey flat. Out of sheer habit, I grabbed the letters from my letterbox and stuffed them into my coat pocket before heading upstairs.

           Entering the dingy room, I dropped my backpack on the bed and sank to the floor. Hugging my knees to my chest, I stared vacantly at the bleak wall. My phone rang insistently in my pocket but I didn’t answer, too tired to move. The crushing weight on my lungs forced out whatever little oxygen I managed to draw, making each breath a struggle. The clamouring voices in my mind grew louder and louder, growing in intensity yet forcefully contained, like built-up pressure without release on the brink of implosion.

You’re useless

          I’m…not…

You can’t even stand up for yourself or fight for what you believe is right

          Yes I can! And I’m trying! I’ve –

You’re a disappointment to your parents and your family

          I’m not! I swear! I –

You’ll never amount up to anything

          That’s not true! I –

You’re pathetic

          No –

Nothing but a Failure

          Stop saying –

Human garbage

          Please! Just –

Waste of space

           “SHUT UP!”

           Silence. Nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing in the darkness.

The world would be better off without you

          I don’t know how long I had stayed there on the floor but by the time I came around, my dripping wet clothes were nearly dry. The chaotic calamity within had finally died down and I was filled with an eerie calmness. A deafening silence blanketed the air, pierced only by the hypnotic rumbling of trains across tracks. Ah yes…the railway…my ticket to solving everything…just two blocks away…and it’ll all be over…permanently…

          Forcing my lethargic limbs to move, I wobbled onto my feet and stumbled towards the door. A tiny parcel fell out of my pocket and the handwriting on it made me paused. It was my mother’s. Even under the dimness of the moonlight trickling in, there was no mistaking that immaculately cursive hand.

          Letting go of the door handle, I kneeled down to pick up the neatly wrapped package. Then, slowly, as if afraid it would fall apart at the slightest touch, I began unwrapping the parcel. Upon opening the box, tears welled at the corner of my eyes. Six little cylindrical bundles of haw flakes were carefully packed within, each attached to a tightly rolled up strip of paper. Gently untying the scrolls from the sweets, I began reading them one at a time.

          Jie![2] I got you your favourite sweets! Wanted to buy you more of them but Ma said there wasn’t enough space in the box. Don’t worry, I’ll send you a big box of them once I’ve saved up enough money.

– Di[3]

          My heart ached as I thought about how much it must have costed for them to ship the parcel all the way from Penang to Britain. And with the little amount of pocket money…it must have taken Di-Di months of saving to be able to afford buying that one bundle of sweets…

          Jie, just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you have to hold everything in on your own y’know? It’s okay to rely on others a bit more from time to time. Enjoy the sweets you idiot, you’re crazy about those haw flakes. No idea why you like them either, they aren’t even that nice.

– Mei[4]

          Tears pricked the back of my eyes as my sister’s grumpy voice echoed in my ears. I could even see the disbelieving eye roll at my odd preferences in sweets after the last sentence. How I’ve missed our senseless squabbles and late-night chats….

          A-Yun, being an international student in the UK isn’t always the easiest thing, especially when you’re a minority there. You’ve already taken the necessary steps and have done all you can in that situation. Remember, it’s the end result and not the process that defines a victory. Remember what Sun Tzu mentioned in The Art of War? ‘The most important rule to victory is to know when to pick your fights and how to fight it’. Not all battles need to be fought to win the war. Never forget our family values and never lose sight of your goal. Don’t worry about finances, let me handle that. Just focus on your studies and aim for that first-class honours. The best revenge is to succeed despite their efforts to stop you. Continue to work hard and don’t give up. Know that regardless of the outcome, your Ma and I are proud of you and that we love you very, very much.

– Ba[5]

           A sob catches at the back of my throat as tears flowed freely down my cheeks. Acute pangs of longing weighed heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

          A-Yun[6] ah, if it ever becomes too much to bear at Cardiff, come home. Ma will make you your favourite dishes. I know you want to do well but don’t overwork yourself. Remember to get enough rest and try to change your bad habit of skipping meals. Two boiled eggs alone don’t count as a proper meal either!

– Ma[7]           

          A sheepish giggle escaped my lips despite the tears, Ma’s exasperated voice ringing in my ears. I could almost picture the look of indignation on her face as she judges my terrible meal choices before proceeding to fill my bowl with steamy boiled dumplings.

          Ah…Ma’s famous boiled dumplings…the saltiness of minced pork marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil…the refreshing sweetness of spring onions and carrots contrasting the pork’s saltiness…flecks of finely chopped hei-mu-er adding a chewy texture to the tender meat whilst thin sheets of delicately wrapped dough encapsulated it all…the slight bitterness of the herbal broth complementing the savoury dumplings…[8] My stomach growled in protest as I smiled fondly at the memory.

          Wiping away the remaining tears, I unrolled the last strip of paper. Elegant brushstrokes painted familiar characters in horizontal lines. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled sitting on A-Gong’s [9] lap in the garden as kid, watching him practice calligraphy. I remembered how he used to read his poems aloud as I gaze at his hands guiding the bamboo brush across the ivory sheet, entranced by its flowing movements. Each word written was like a piece of art, each stroke of ink painting a meaning of its own.

Tranquil night’s darkness, the moon shines bright, From the mud the lotus rises, its petals pure despite. Vermillion red blossom like wildly raging flames; Elegant, virtuous, delicate, yet exquisitely untamed. The wise once said that adversity yields flair, An upright heart, oblique shadows don’t scare. Dripping water with time wears the stubborn stone, Sturdy wood too can be cut with rope saws alone! [10]

          A strange tranquility wrapped itself around me as I read the poem, A-Gong’s calm and mellow voice resonating in my ears. It was almost as if he was standing right before me with the usual toothless smile and twinkling eyes on his wizen face. Tenderly cradling the small box of sweets, a faint smile graced my lips. Their vermillion red and gold wrappings shone with a certain warmth under the soft light of the moon. Gently unwrapping one of the thumb-size bundles with shaking hands, I popped a disk-like piece into my mouth.         

          Immediately, a wave of warmth spread throughout my cold and hollowed body, almost as if it was infused with the life-giving heat of home. The familiar tart sweetness of the hawthorn berries cleared the heavy fog that clouded my mind and for the first time in a long while, I felt energy slowly seeping back into my worn-out soul, reigniting the snuffed-out fire within. Strange how something so small, barely the size of my thumb, could bring so much comfort and hope. That night, the moon shone a little brighter than usual, and the normally barren sky seemed to be exploding with billions of twinkling stars.

NOTES

[1] Alina Schartner & Yoonjoo Cho, ‘“Empty signifiers” and “dreamy ideals”: perceptions of the “international university” among higher education students and staff at a British university’, Higher Education, 74 (2017), 455-472

[2] ‘Jie’ means older sister in Chinese

[3] 'Di’ means younger brother in Chinese

[4] 'Mei’ means younger sister in Chinese

[5] ‘Ba’ means father in Chinese

[6] ‘Yun’ is written as ‘云’ meaning ‘cloud’

[7] 'Ma’ means mother in Chinese

[8] Hei-mu-er is the Mandarin term for black cloud ear fungus, a type of mushroom often used in Chinese cuisines.

[9] ‘A-Gong’ means grandfather in Chinese (specifically, the Hainanese pronounciation)

[10] This is a self written and self translated poem I wrote. The original Chinese version can be found here.

[11] ‘Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds’ is a play on 守得云开见月明 meaning the moon will shine brightly again when the clouds part, and 麻雀虽小五脏俱全 meaning though a sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.

Author's Notes:

So this is one of my earlier prose pieces from uni (all the way back from first year lol). I don’t usually post prose? Not prose of this length at least. Anyways, I thought I’d take the leap and try posting them online now since I decided to start doing that for my poetry pieces? The rest of my prose pieces throughout uni somehow ended up becoming interlinked with several recurring characters though there are some inconsistencies since they were initially intended as stand-alone pieces rather than a series of somewhat loosely linked short stories. I’ll be posting them in story timeline sequence (or at least as closely to a sequence as I can since I didn’t exactly plan out the timeline of these pieces either) rather than in the sequence it was written in so there might be a slight fluctuation in writing style cuz they do kinda change over the years? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 1~ 

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

[fangirlovestuff]

A Very Colin Christmas - Colin Shea x reader

Ch.4 - A Holy Jolly Christmas

ch.1  ch.2  ch.3

a/n - hey lovely people!! here’s the fourth chapter, and a reminder that tomorrow there’s no chapter and friday will be the last one, so happy Christmas eve eve to those who celebrate, enjoy!<3

Summary: Slowly but surely, you discover why Colin was so apprehensive about having his family over, and also realize something you should’ve realized long ago...

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: curse words, angst if you squint

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

The next day, it was the morning of Christmas eve, and you figured you should do some grocery shopping before stores close down for the holidays, so you put on your clothes and headed out of the apartment, locking the door behind you and turning around to –

"Good morning," Eleanor was standing in the threshold of Colin's apartment, the morning newspaper in her hand.

"Good morning," you answered with a smile you hoped didn't look too fake.

"Who lives there?" she asked.

"Just, uh… my friend," you shifted uncomfortably. "I um, this morning I got a text to… come help her, and now we're done and it's still pretty early so I figured I wouldn't bother you. I was just going home to change."

"Alright, we'll see you later I assume," she stated.

"Of course," you smiled awkwardly and went down the stairs as quickly as you could. Once you were out of the building you started heading to the shop, and as you were walking you pulled out your phone to call Colin. He didn't answer, and you sighed in frustration before putting your phone back in your bag. You hoped he had enough sense to handle it on his own.

While you were shopping, there were some interesting developments at Colin's.

"Colin," Eleanor barged into his room and opened the curtain. "I think your girlfriend is cheating on you."

It took his foggy brain a second to register her words. "What?"

"I don't think you can trust her," she crossed her hands on her chest.

"Good morning to you too," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Colin, I'm being serious, I-"

"I know mom, let me just wake up for a few minutes and we can talk about it, alright?"

"Fine," she said, her lips drawn into a thin line and left the room. Colin sighed groggily and went to get dressed and brush his teeth. He didn't know what the fuck his mom was talking about, but he sure as hell was going to stall as much as he could without knowing.

When he went into the kitchen, she was there. Obviously.

"There you are! So this morning I went out to bring the newspaper."

"Anything interesting in it?" he asked as he started making himself a coffee.

"No, but listen to this – when I was in the hallway the door opposite opened, and guess who came out? Your girlfriend, Colin. It was your girlfriend."

It took all of his willpower not to burst into laughter on the spot. Instead, he frowned. "What did she say?"

"That her friend was living there and needed help. But I'm not buying it," she shook her head. "She looked very suspicious."

"Well, she's telling the truth mom," he smiled. "Her friend is living there. She introduced us, actually," he lied casually.

"Oh," Eleanor frowned. "Okay then."

Only when she left Colin could allow himself to snicker into his coffee. That was close.

When you came back with your groceries, you prayed Eleanor wouldn't see you, since you couldn't excuse that away if she had. But thankfully, the hallway was empty, and you let yourself into your apartment without any more awkward encounters.

You shot Colin a text asking him when he wanted you to "arrive" at his place, and he said that in about an hour or so. That gave you just enough time to take a long shower and almost forget about the morning.

An hour later, fresh out of the shower, you knocked on Colin's door. Eleanor opened the door, and she smiled a tight-lipped smile as she ushered you in.

You both sat down in the living room, Colin and his dad nowhere in sight. You assumed they were both somewhere in the house and simply didn't hear you arrive, but you thought asking where they were was maybe a little tactless as Eleanor led the way to the living room, sitting down seemingly eager to talk to you.

"So," she started, "how did you and Colin meet?"

"Oh, um," you fumbled over your words for a second trying to come up with a convincing story, "I met him at a gig of his. I thought his music was great and when we got to know each other I realized how great he was himself," you smiled.

"Really? That's funny, because Colin told me your friend from across the hall was the one who introduced you…" she trailed off in an unsaid question.

Your heart was racing as you tried to keep up with your lies, but you didn't let it show. "Well, she actually did. She was the one who brought me to see his show that night. When she told me her neighbor was a musician I was a little skeptical, but we both had a great time. After the show she took me backstage and introduced us, and the rest is history," you channeled your relief into a smile.

"Grilling her already, mom?" Colin said from behind you and you resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he came to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"We were just having a conversation, son," she chuckled.

You chuckled as well, trying to diffuse the tension. "Yeah, I was just telling her about the night we met, when we were at that gig of yours."

"Oh yeah, it's a cute story," he smiled at you.

"When are Andy, Laurie and Jacob coming for dinner?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject before it gets awkward.

"They should be here at around six," Colin replied.

"Oh, you know Andy's a lawyer, right?" Eleanor asked you.

"Yes, we talked about it last night," you chuckled embarrassedly.

"Ah, of course! Anyway, I'm just wondering why his brother here doesn't follow in his footsteps," she reached forward as if sharing a secret with you. "You know, if you ever want to start a family, a steady income is very important."

"Well, we haven't even moved in yet, Eleanor," you were getting a little pissed now. "I'd say I have no say in what Colin chooses to do or not do, right?"

"Of course, I'm just worried about my little boy," she smiled at Colin and he returned what looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"You shouldn't be," you said, "he's wonderful," you looked at him and smiled genuinely.

"Awww, thank you," he said playfully, and you giggled.

"You two are such a cute couple," William, Colin's father said as he entered the room, sitting next to Eleanor.

"Yeah, you are," she agreed with him.

You and Colin just smiled at them. You didn't know what he was thinking, but what you yourself were thinking terrified you. I wish we were.

Soon enough everyone was there and you could start on the Christmas dinner, which was mostly courtesy of Eleanor and Laurie but at least Colin provided the venue. While you were eating, they were all talking amongst themselves, which left you plenty of time to think things over.

The thing was, while you had initially agreed to all of this, you just thought of it as a favor to a friend, nothing more, and now you were starting to realize just how… magical denial was. Because even in Colin's family was kind of annoying, apart from his admittedly hot older brother, Colin was surprisingly un-annoying for the last couple of days. He was actually being really… sweet.

It was the last thought that truly sent you spiraling. Because knowing Colin can be this sweet made it all the more bitter that it wasn't true.

Before, you could just tell yourself that Colin Shea wasn't really capable of love. That he wasn't ready. But now that you were seeing him like this, you knew that wasn't true, it couldn't be. No, the agonizing reality was – he can love. He just didn't want that, and certainly not with you. He had every opportunity to start something with you – hell, even just a one night stand – and he didn't. Sure, he flirted and joked around, but when it came down to it, you knew what Colin Shea seriously flirting looked like, and it never once happened with you, and you were sure of that.

Because if he really tried, deep down you knew you would let him succeed.

The food in your mouth suddenly became too dry, and you gulped down some water to steady yourself.

After dinner, everyone sat down in the living room to watch a Christmas movie. You and Colin sat next to each other on the couch, and you were trying to concentrate on the film when his hand wrapped around your shoulder. Nothing too bold.

You tried to hold your concentration, but then he started drawing patterns on your shirt, running his hand along the covered curve of your shoulder and all together with your thoughts it was… just too much.

"You know what guys?" you said after a few minutes, "I think I should probably go. I'm just pretty tired, I'm sorry," you said as you left your chair.

They all just kind of stared at you, and you didn't blame the after that out of the blue statement. All you knew is that you needed out of here.

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

i love validation so if you have any feedback (even if it’s negative i take constructive criticism lol) feel free to tell me:)

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A Very Colin Christmas Taglist: @janaygrant

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[hope-remnant]

The Practice Run Killing Game

Content Warnings: guns, violence, murder, manipulation, ableism, blood, weapons, bullying mention, and Dangan Ronpa, which is probably it’s own warning. This is literally 85% murder. 6.5K words.

My talentswap AU now has its own fanfic! for a full list of my talentswapped characters click [here]

Hifumi never thought school life could be so great. He grinned to himself in his dorm, pushing off the floor with socked feet to spin his desk chair back and forth. The pale blue light of his computer’s screen reflected on his glasses, which he pushed up with one finger and a smirk before typing out a last message to his friend’s stream chat.

JusticeHammer: I’ll be back in a few hours!! Have fun Hina!! <3

In his headphones the stream audio played, ambient underwater sounds from the game itself and the excited voice of his friend, the Ultimate Gamer.

“Bye Justice! You other mods better be on your best behavior now that the boss man is gone, okay?” Hina grinned up at the webcam from her side of the screen, waving with one tanned hand before returning to her game, talking about the strange atmosphere of an alien world. 

The chat scrolled by as well, people from all over the world typing out goodbyes to him. Thousands of strangers, but dozens of friends as well, fellow moderators who helped wrangle the random people into order, who would play video games with Hifumi, who would message him and call him.

It was a far cry from where Hifumi had been in middle school, and he couldn’t help but grin again, shaking out his hands as if to shake out an excitement that clung to his bones, that stayed in his heart when he remembered he had friends. 

His phone dinged with a soft chime, and he couldn’t help the quiet huff of amusement as he flipped open his phone and typed quickly.

Sakura: Where are you going Hifumi? Do you need assistance? 

Hifumi: school council meeting! a weird late night one, no emergencies, dont worry sakura!

Hifumi: see you tomorrow, love you!!!!! :) 

Hifumi stashed the phone in the pocket of his blazer- he was unsure what to wear to this sudden late night meeting, when before they had all been just after classes let out. He decided to play it safe and wear his school uniform.

Standing up from his chair, he made sure to plug in his laptop, the stream still running on it, and turned to leave his room. He had seen the interior of the main course’s dorms, they were triple the size, with their own ensuite and everything. 

His own dorm was small, the wall space barely enough to fit his multitude of posters. There was a complimentary cork board as well, full of fanart people had made of his little sona, a kirby with a hammer and glasses, which he printed out and posted up on his wall as big as he could get them.

He pulled once on the lapels of his blazer, making the fabric settle properly on his shoulders and snatched his binder of notes he used in student council meetings. He made sure to lock his dorm on the way out, still smiling softly to himself. He toyed with the small ring of keys in his hand, dorm room key swinging as well as a number of soft cute keychains that Hina or Sakura sent him in their years as online friends.

He entered the cold night air, pocketing his keys and rubbing his hands together. Winter had clung harder than he had ever seen it, or Spring was simply apathetic even in April, biding its time. In the dusky light he could see the timid, barely blooming sakura trees that dotted the expansive main campus of Hope’s Peak Academy as he approached. There was no security on duty, the gates locked at the late hour.

Headmaster Kirigiri had given him a pass once he sent an anxious email talking about how the head of security, Sakakura, had been harassing him whenever he tried to go on campus. Even though reserve course students were barred from entering the main campus, Hifumi had privileges as the liaison between the reserve and main courses, and as a member of the student council.

Hina and Sakura had theorized it was because Sakakura was the Ex-Ultimate Student Council Leader, and was now one of the club’s supporting staff members, even if he had only worked at the school for a few years. The man was resentful of having a reserve course student on the council, a first in the school’s history, even though the reserve course was a relatively recent development.

Hifumi was used to people disliking him for seemingly no reason, it was only a problem that he took to the headmaster when it made him late to council meetings. 

He glanced at his phone as he passed through the side gate intended for just security. He would likely be a minute or two late, but it wouldn’t make him stand out any more than usual. In his black and white suit he was a dark stain in the middle of any crowd of bright ultimates, who were able to wear anything pertaining to their talent and flaunt the rules.

Sakura wearing scrubs some days, Hina wearing garish merchandise for a game and smirking as the Ultimate Hall Monitor from class 77B could do nothing about it. They had told Hifumi about some of their classmates testing the rules, Enoshima in a sporty tank top, the Ultimate Team Manager getting away with it even in December. Fukawa, who didn’t even notice the rules apparently, and wore oil stained jumpsuits to class, no one able to deter the Ultimate Engineer and Ultimate Mechanic.

Yet here he was, in an ill-tailored suit. When he had been accepted into the reserve program and sent a uniform, his older sister had insisted he try it on, and cooed over him looking all grown up, as if she weren’t just a year older than him. She utilized some of her cosplay skills to try and modify the suit to fit him- they seemed to be made for exclusively skinny kids, then just sized up without concerns for body shape. Unfortunately Fujiko typically worked with skirts and dresses, which were more forgiving of hands more used to drawing and the bad eyesight all Yamadas seemed to have. 

Hifumi had to stop for a moment, the breeze rustling past as he stared up at the few stars that began to twinkle in the night sky, faded and choked by light pollution, blurry even with his glasses. Some were simply blocked by the giant building before him, gleaming glass reflecting the lights of the city’s nightlife, aside from one classroom on the second floor, lit up bright white with silhouettes moving across the room.

He held the binder full of notes to his chest and walked into Hope’s Peak Academy, unaware that someone in the school’s entrance hall was hiding in the shadows, watching with eyes of deep scarlet that reflected light like a cat’s would in the low light. 

Hifumi hurried up the stairs and down the hallway to the classroom they held meetings in. He saw Kamii and Kurosaki, two ultimates on the council who were dating, walk into the meeting room, Kamii practically clinging to her boyfriend. It was unsettling to see as he approached, considering Kamii thought PDA was impolite during meetings, and usually sat with someone between her and Kurosaki to avoid it. Maybe she was upset by something, but Hifumi wasn’t about to ask her, considering he was acquaintances at best with the council.

He followed them into the room, the last to arrive. The fluorescent lights were glaring and bright as night settled fully outside of their meeting. Everyone was seated aside from their Ultimate Student Council President, Umesawa, who stood at the podium in front of the blackboard, knuckles white as her blunt nails dug into the wood, her white armband standing out against the bright yellow of her hoodie.

After Hifumi sat down, leaving his notes on the desk, he noticed just how unhappy everyone seemed. Some were fidgeting, others talking but not saying much at all, their tone hurried and frightened, and others sat there and stared at the polished wood of their desk as if the world was ending around them.

“Now that we’re all here- you have some explaining to do Umesawa.” Ikuta, a girl with a famously short temper among the upperclassmen ultimates, had her hands on her desk as she stood slightly, her red hair swaying and catching the eyes of anyone who hadn’t been startled by her shout. 

“Yeah, Aiko, your emails were really panicked.” Kashiki smiled softly at her friend, but she seemed to be trembling.

Umesawa tugged on one of the bright yellow ears sitting atop the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling down the hood and raising her head to look up at the council. Her eyes seemed to draw people in, one blue and one green, both full of an earnestness that made her a good Ultimate School Council President. Now, though, they were rimmed with red, and usually perfect wavy bob was a bird’s nest, brown strands out of place in any way they could be. 

“I called you all here because it was best to be as discreet as possible.” Umesawa said.

Ichino snorted, not even bothering to hide his disrespect, too busy carding his hand through his already messy red hair. “Discreet. Yeah.” 

Just when Hifumi was going to ask them all to explain, because these ultimates always acted as if everyone just knows what’s going on instead of learning things like normal people- the door creaked open and someone Hifumi had never seen before stepped inside. 

The first thing Hifumi noticed were the gloves. One a perfect, unstained white, carrying a large duffle bag. The other a black that blended into her sleeve. The rest of her outfit was just as puzzling, a bright red tie and a white button up, but with a black cropped leather jacket over it. A black miniskirt and red knee high boots as well completed the outfit. But even then, it was almost at odds with pale violet eyes and long lavender hair, only a small portion of that hair in a braid that she toyed with in her black gloved hand.

“Good evening class.” She said, her voice even and her eyes narrowed. 

Umesawa backed away from the podium, staring at the girl. “Who are y-?”

The girl waved off the question, her black gloved hand slashing through the air, making the council president back away further. “Goodness, and they say you’re one of the brightest in the school?” She takes a step closer, heeled boots heavy on the floor. “Pathetic.” She says, a light scolding, a chiming thing that seemed more like a schoolyard taunt than a threat.

But Hifumi could tell this girl was a threat. Maybe she had a dangerous ultimate talent- he knew for a fact that even if an ultimate skill was illegal they could be admitted and given essentially some form of diplomatic immunity while they attended the school. 

“Why the hell are you here lady?!” Ikuta snapped, standing fully with her hands on her hips. 

The girl put both her hands in the air, as if surrendering, but she was smiling, amusement sparkling in those eyes that seemed to dig into anything she laid them on, ferreting out as much information as she could. “I just want to play a game with my fellow ultimates.” She said, placating and condescending. 

Hifumi, who was tired, confused, and could be watching his friend play video games right now, finally spoke up. “Can any of you ultimates ever explain anything, or is being cryptic part of the main course syllabus?” 

The girl turned to him and glared, and Hifumi couldn’t help the small squeak of fear that slipped from his mouth when her face twisted into a sneer. It was a dramatic expression, he had seen it in games and shows, but no one had ever looked at him like that, no matter how many bullies he had faced. Like he was less than nothing, his very existence something to be loathed.

“A. Game. That shouldn’t be so hard for a simple reserve course student to understand, right? After all, you don’t spend your time doing anything worthwhile, if you can’t even manage to get into the main course.” The girl’s voice dripped with malice, and she quickly took over at the podium.

Umesawa backed up even more, now close to the window opposite of the door to the classroom, hands tugging her hood back up so she could pull at the fake rabbit ears in nervousness.

“I will keep it simple.” The girl shot Hifumi another look. “Last man standing wins. Go.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Ikuta stepped out into the aisle between desks, pointing a finger at the girl as she demanded answers. “Just who the fuck do you think you are, demanding shit from us? Are you some reserve course kid? We’ve had enough from Yamada-”

Everyone’s eyes had been on Kotomi Ikuta, they hadn’t noticed the threatening girl at the front moving at all, assuming she had been just as stunned by the rant, until Ikuta was cut off by a gunshot.

Hifumi had heard guns before, in games, in animes, in movies. There were different patterns to them depending on the type, and when he and Hina became really invested in a game he would bother to tell them apart, the distinct rapid pulses, the blasts and thunderous booms from all different kinds of weaponry. He had never heard one in real life, had never been in the same room as a real gun, even though he knew there was a shooting range up on the fifth floor for those whose talents needed such things.

It was louder than he expected, and the noise was what made him freeze. In the middle of the classroom, Ikuta fell to her knees, then slumped forward. Shrill screams and rumbling expletives filled the room.

It took a moment, to properly process all of the information and connect the dots. When he did Hifumi couldn’t stop the sharp gasp, even though all it did was make him notice the sharp sulfuric stench of gunpowder, as well as the metallic tang of fresh blood. Things he had never experienced before.

An ultimate had died right before his eyes, by something as simple as the handgun that rested like it was molded to be in the strange threatening girl’s black gloved hand. The girl’s eyes were alight with something Hifumi couldn’t understand as she huffed through her nose in what might have been amusement.

She dropped the duffle bag in her other hand, the thing spilling open to reveal an assortment of weapons from knives to swords, hammers and screwdrivers, guns of all shapes and sizes. They were real, the flash of silvery metal, the dull gleam of tools with a new use branded onto them right before their eyes. 

“If that’s not enough for you, I’ve got more.” The girl smirked, and waved to the still open door. A cart came rolling in, it’s top shelf littered with larger weapons. A chainsaw, a mace, a sledgehammer, all on top of it, all perfectly clean as if even they didn’t know what a dark omen they were, as if they didn’t know their capacity to do harm in the right hands. 

At the bottom of the cart there was a large case which the girl pulled onto the floor with ease after sliding her handgun into a previously unseen holster high up on her thigh. She kicked the case with her boot, walking around it and towards the door. “That holds all the motivation you’ll need.” 

“Everyone stay calm!” Umesawa ordered, straightening up from where she had been cowering. “No one touch those weapons- someone could get hurt!” Her voice was as sweet as ever, even with the urgency, she took out her phone and flipped it open, only for her face to fall. 

Yokō stood up from his place at the back of the room, turning his flip phone around as if to show it off. “No connection.”

Kubo stood up, gesturing broadly to the class. “She can’t stop all of us, just listen to Umesawa!” 

But everyone seemed to be getting up, fourteen students all in one room, some paralyzed by fear, others covering their fear with anger. Hifumi stayed seated, staring, unable to process it all at once, afraid. 

A student who had been at Ikuta’s side the instant she fell, trying to help her even after a gunshot wound to the forehead, lunged forward and grabbed one of the spilled weapons at random. He ran towards the terrifying girl who had orchestrated Ikuta’s death. The boy, Someya, was holding a shotgun that was almost too big for him to handle. The little plushies on keychains at his belt jingled slightly, at odds with the cold metal in his hands. Before he could aim, someone grabbed at him. 

Ichino tried to grapple the weapon away from Someya, but the small boy clung to the instrument of death with a desperation no one in the room had seen before now in a human being. Someya was frantic, eyes glassy with tears, his distinctive blue bowlcut in disarray as he shook his head, saying how she needed to pay for killing Ikuta. 

In the chaos Hifumi finally stood, moving to the wall the door was on, his back hitting the wall quickly as he tried to look around. Umesawa still was at the podium, pleading for order. Gōryoku was shielding some of the others who had broken down into tears with his large muscular body, and some other students had approached the front of the classroom.

Someya was facing the door, facing the girl who had her gun in one hand but was toying with her braid as well, as if bored. She hummed an uneven tune, as if bored, as if waiting for a show to start. 

“Please!” Someya cried, tears falling as the shotgun was wrenched out of his hands, the gun making a sharp cracking sound as it hit the floor.

Then the katana entered his chest from behind, skewering him. As the weapon was pulled out with a wet sucking sound Hifumi wished he could never have heard, the girl holding the weapon sobbed. “My mother- they have my mother- I’m so s-sorry, I can’t-!”

With a sob that devolved into a scream, Kisaragi kicked away the file of photographs she had taken from the case, the motive set out for them. It showed a middle aged woman bound to a chair, screaming into a gag. 

“Karen! Please, listen-!” Umesawa implored, a hand outstretched. “Put down the-!” She let out a small scream when Kirasagi lurched forward, slashing the katana.

The sword embedded itself into the podium. Most of the class either hung back or scattered to grab the motives, and then the weapons. 

Hifumi could only focus on one thing at a time, the sounds. The wet thunk of metal sinking into flesh, into the soft organs of the human body, so fragile even if the person had been deemed ultimate. Gunshots, sobbing, deranged laughter, screams and death rattles.

Hifumi staggered under the onslaught of sensory information overloading his mind with no way to filter it, no way to stop it. All he could do was try to get away.

Blood splattered onto his blazer, up his neck and onto his face as another student died. With a short, faltering yell, he pushed someone out of the way of the door and began to run. 

The moonlight streaming into the hallways washed them in a pale ghostly glow, as if illuminating perfection, as if a spotlight was needed. Hifumi didn’t know it, but he looked similar to when he spoke to his friends in late night chats, his lights off in his room and illuminated only by the pale glow of a computer screen, tired and giggling. 

Pink marred the walls and floors. In the classroom Hifumi abandoned, a boy he had spoken to, someone in a committee with him, was brutally beaten to death with a chair. A girl he knew was stabbed. Another was strangled. The events tumbled together into one big massacre, one big game, one big show, and the girl who pulled the strings to watch this all happen couldn’t help the grin on her usually passive face as she left the scene into her own lair.

Someone stood at her side now, shorter than her, but even more intimidating. A person in a pristine suit and long black hair, almost ridiculous in its length. Their red eyes seemed to gleam as they watched, but their pointed features never twitched from an expressionless mask of disinterest.

“Satisfied, Izuru?” Kirigiri asked once she reached her control room, one of her lackeys nodding to her reverentially and giving her the seat. Another approached her other side, giggling.

“...” Izuru’s eyes slid to the side, towards where the lackey who had been in the chair now cowered, too horrified to watch what he assisted in causing, pathetic. The girl laughing into her hand was small, and with Izuru’s keen sight and ultimate knowledge, Izuru knew that the girl was thirteen at best, too young, yet still an ultimate. She was enthralled by the gore on screen, delighted by it, just as much as she was enthralled by Kirigiri, who put a hand on the young girl’s shoulder, speaking words but never telling her anything.

With a small huff through their nose, Izuru turned and left to see the scene for himself. 

Hifumi didn’t know when someone had got him with a blade. They evidently had, from the wound on his arm pouring blood, pink staining his nice uniform, running through his fingers even when he tried his best to stop the bleeding.

He continued to stumble on, mind overloaded with information, with fear, and he couldn’t help but just blank out on all of it. There was too much to process, too much to bear acknowledging. With a ragged huff, he leaned against a wall of lockers, the cool metal a relief from everything, another nothingness to sink into. 

The wall of windows allowed in so much moonlight, for a moment Hifumi thought it was day, that any moment so many of the best students in the country would come pouring out of their classrooms. Maybe his friends would be among them, Hina tapping on her phone or the newest handheld console, Sakura making sure they didn’t bump into anyone. 

They would see him, and Sakura would hold him. She was so strong, so steady. She could carry Hifumi to the infirmary, could bandage him up and offer him a lollipop with that slight smile she got when she talked to him or Hina. She would fret over him any time she saw him until the bandage was finally gone, she would insist on carrying his bag or his notes for student council-

Hifumi swallowed down a sob, pushing himself onward. Screams echoed down hallways made to carry the voices of the best, the last cries of those who were dead the moment that girl walked into their meeting. It hurt, to keep moving, to keep acting as if just running away would save him, but everything would hurt no matter what choice he made. 

All he wanted was to hang out in Hina’s dorm, his best friends at his side as they all rested on Hina’s bright pink bed, Sakura studying late into the night as he and Hina fell asleep against her.

He wanted so much, and he was never going to get it, not now. Hifumi knew he was going to die here, he just knew it. Was this something other people felt, like a blanket of fresh snow, cold and melting deep into his bones as he realized death was coming for him, an unstoppable force? Was this something that had always been there waiting for him, and he only noticed it now when his head swam and pink dripped from his fingers?

In every game, every anime, every manga, the hero managed to get up and keep going. Whether to escape only to save the day later, or to defeat whatever stood in their way. No one expected that of Hifumi. Maybe they would think an ultimate was capable of it, and there were thirteen ultimates he had left behind to tear each other apart. 

He heard a high pitched, screaming cackle and the revving of a chainsaw, the cut off screams of a victim, far enough away that he wasn’t in danger. 

Hifumi wouldn’t find any heroes here. All he could do was try his best.

The ones who cared for him, his friends, that’s all they had ever asked of him. To try his best, to keep going, to rely on them if he needed to. Hifumi needed them more than ever, Hina’s endless energy and excitement, Sakura’s quiet strength and support. Hina would be in her dorm, headphones on as she kept talking and talking, playing video games for thousands to see. Sakura was studying a new medical journal, sitting on Hina’s bed, out of view of the webcam. 

They were so close but so far, and they were all he could think of. Would they send worried texts when he never messaged them goodnight? Would they wait until tomorrow morning, thinking he had been tired from the meeting? Would they use the extra key to his dorm he gave them, and find his room as he left it, as if nothing was amiss? Would he become another muttered rumor, like the supposed death of a girl in the computer lab of the reserve course?

Would anyone aside from Hina and Sakura notice him gone from campus? He was invisible to the other reserve course students. Maybe they would wonder why there was an extra desk in their classroom, and dismiss it just as quickly as a mistake, never remembering him. 

Tears welled up in his eyes. It was all too much, the noises, the things he had seen. Hifumi had never seen someone die before. He had never seen someone kill before. He had never seen carnage, or gore, or death. He wanted nothing more than to calm his racing thoughts, but they all piled up and screamed until he reached nothing, slumped against some lockers. His left hand was in his mouth, and he bit down harshly on the joint of his thumb, his right hand clutching where he had been injured. 

He screamed silently, throat hurting, tears finally spilling. He was so tired and scared and lost and he just wanted- he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know what to do, it all was piling up, it was washing over him, a tsunami of panic and blood, bright pink and towering over him, until it finally fell and consumed him without even noticing. 

Hifumi continued to dig his teeth into his hand, it was something solid, letting him know that he was here. He brought his knees up to his chest, his legs squishing into his stomach. He let go of his wound, his right hand coming up to pull at his short curly hair as he keened. The wet sticky feeling of blood on his hand, in his hair, was so bad but the grounding pull of pain in his scalp was something that kept him from trying to slam his head into the wall or something equally damaging, because he needed anything to stop his mind from screaming, to stop himself from screaming. He began to rock back and forth, crying. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed. The moon watched on, impassive in its pale glow. Was time really passing, or had the world ended the moment that girl shot Ikuta? Was the planet still spinning? Would the moon ever set?

“Get up Yamada.” 

Chills swept down Hifumi’s spine, he swore someone was talking, but all he could hear were distant gunshots and screams.

“Yamada! Get up!” A polished shoe kicked him in the shin, and Hifumi finally looked up.

Murasame stood before him, leaning on a pitchfork. The dark grey tines were splattered with blood already, dripping down onto the floor. Hifumi stared at the blood, mind numb, lungs and throat pained by the sobs that had wracked his body. 

“I can’t kill a guy who’s crying like a baby. Are you a man or not, Yamada? I know you’re just a stupid reserve course, but c’mon. Get up, die with a little bit of dignity.” Murasame rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. He bent down to look at Hifumi like he was nothing more than a bug on the ground, disgusting. His brown hair shifted to cover his face as he leaned, before snorting wryly and standing up straight again, rolling his eyes.

Hifumi choked on another sob, trying to just breathe. He used both of his hands to brace against the lockers behind him, trying to stand. He didn’t know why he bothered, but it was something to do. Maybe Murasame was joking? Maybe he would help Hifumi?

The moment Hifumi was steady on his feet Murasame backed up, swinging his pitchfork up, an arc of pink that glowed in the moonlight following it.

Hifumi ran again. He turned a corner down the hall, still between a wall of lockers and windows, still in a cold empty husk of a school, and he didn’t stop. 

He bumped into something- someone, and stumbled back, looking at them. A short person with long black hair and pointed features, deep red eyes that stared at him with nothing behind them. “Sorry!” He shrieked, the habit converging against his fear as he quickly stepped around the person and kept running. 

Izuru raised an eyebrow and deftly hid between the lockers as another ultimate passed, this one full of bloodlust, hunting the boy who ran into them. It was different, interesting, but Izuru kept moving. They had more to see than this.

Every breath seared from Hifumi’s lungs, his body ached as he did his best to keep moving. But he didn’t even make it all the way down the hallway. Hacking into his bloodied hands, he ended up falling against one of the massive windows that made up the outside wall of the school. His injured arm burned with pain against the cold glass.

Hifumi whimpered, turning to keep his back to the glass as he heard sprinting footsteps slow and reach him.

“Everyone hated you, Yamada.” Murasame huffed, both hands holding the pitchfork as if it was a staff.

“What?” Hifumi wheezed out, more confused than frightened.

“You waltz in, a useless reserve course, and start telling us what to do. We had a betting pool going on whether you were just that oblivious that you didn’t notice how annoying you were, or if you really were just that annoying.” Murasame sneered.

“Wh-What?!” 

Murasame let go of his pitchfork with one of his hands to point at Hifumi accusingly, the tines of the weapon scraping against the floor loudly, making Hifumi flinch away. 

“That. Is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so annoying and don’t even fucking know, do you? Handing out orders, trying to get us to help a bunch of teenagers who convinced their parents to blow their money just to attend Hope’s Peak- it’s a wonder no one offed you before now.” Murasame swung the pitchfork back up, both hands on the weapon as he pointed it at Hifumi.

“No- please-!” Hifumi begged, trying to dive out of the way. 

The sound of cracking glass echoed around the hall as Murasame chuckled. “Really?” 

Hifumi wanted to back away, wanted to run again, but fear paralyzed him.

Murasame just shook his head, pulling back his pitchfork and causing the window to fully shatter. “Get up Yamada. I’m not killing you while you cower. Unlike you, I’m better than that.” 

Hifumi made another noise, a whimpered plea even he couldn’t understand, and stood up. He trembled and breathed in the cold night air that rushed through the broken window. 

Murasame wacked Hifumi in the head with the side of the pitchfork, toying with him.

Hifumi stumbled to the side, now fully in front of the empty window frame, shards of glass still clinging to the sides. Part of him wondered if he should say something cool. Last words were supposed to be cool, right? That was for heroes, and he had always wanted to be one. He had always wanted too much.

Murasame bared his teeth and stabbed forward, the tines of his pitchfork sinking into Hifumi’s abdomen. For a moment all Hifumi could feel was the force of it, like a gut punch, something he hadn’t been a stranger to back in his middle school days. But sharp pain quickly followed, spreading, and he staggered back, the heel of his shoe hitting open air. He grabbed at the long handle of the pitchfork reflexively, unable to do anything about it.

Murasame lunged forward, trying to grab the handle of his weapon, but he missed. The revving of a chainsaw grew steadily closer, as well the unhinged laughter of an ultimate pushed to the edge. Hifumi’s killer didn’t bother watching him fall, instead running in search of a new weapon.

Hifumi gasped raggedly as he tipped out of the window, the world swinging away until all he saw was the sky. The black of night was endless, the faded stars twinkled, the moon still shined. They wouldn’t change with one boy’s death. They wouldn’t care.

As he fell, all he regretted was not giving Hina and Sakura a better goodbye. He felt the slight scrape of leaves and then his body slammed into the ground, rendering him unconscious. 

He wouldn’t wake for days. When the school’s security would find him during their sweep of the grounds, it would be an hour after they already found the unresponsive, unconscious body of Aiko Umesawa, her yellow rabbit hoodie stained pink. She would be taken to a nearby hospital, and she would be silenced before she had a chance to wake.

Hifumi was found later, a pitchfork still stuck in his stomach, and that was for the best, as it staved off the worst of the bleeding as it stayed in the wound. He had sustained a head injury and a cut to his arm, but it was better than the twelve dead students littering the second floor of Hope’s Peak Academy. A dozen bright, beautiful students all dead, their lives destroyed before they could truly live.

The school board of Hope’s Peak knew another factor to the puzzling killing game. Their pet project, Izuru Kamakura, was missing. The Ultimate Hope, the Ultimate Ultimate, was gone and most of the staff who attended to the project were dead or had been enjoying a day off in the peace of their own home, unknowing that their colleagues were being slaughtered like animals. 

It had to have been Izuru Kamakura that unleashed this bloodshed. The project ensured that the Ultimate Hope had every talent and skill ever recorded, the school board knew how easily their little project could kill, could hide bodies. They assumed it was a vengeful sign to the board, thinking themselves worth the carnage. The school board thought too highly of themselves. They underestimated just how easy it was to bring an ultimate to  a breaking point.

An entire life that culminated in a title, and ultimate, until that was all they were known for. They had to constantly one-up themselves, to constantly prove to others, and to themself, that they were the best. Years of effort, years of blood, sweat, and tears. Everything relied on their ultimate. Their world revolved around it, until they became the embodiment of their ultimate, until their ultimate became them. 

When tasked with murder, with letting go of any inhibition and just committing violence, just causing harm, something any human being was capable of, they took to the task with an almost inhuman speed. Some would need a push, but even then, their calculating mind would whir and they would frame everything to their advantage. They would come out on top, they had to. They were an ultimate after all.

But the school board only saw the brightest of their students, children. The blame was placed on Izuru Kamakura, and they quickly moved to cover up any signs of the incident. 

Hifumi Yamada would have been placed in the same hospital as his student council president, and would have been silenced just the same, two birds with one stone, but that didn’t happen. The Ultimate Nurse Sakura Oogami demanded the school fly her best friend to her clan’s clinic. She would take care of any medical need, or else she and her girlfriend, the Ultimate Gamer, would drop out of Hope’s Peak permanently, and Asahina would use her global fame to ensure that the reputation of their former school was dragged through the mud.

The school board didn’t care much if the reserve course student died, but it was best if the kid died out of their responsibility, so they used the school’s helicopter to fly Hifumi, Sakura, and Hina all to the Oogami clan’s isolated compound. 

Days passed where Sakura tended to her best friend’s wounds, and he awoke. His shifting had roused Hina, who had been sleeping at his bedside, and she ran to get Sakura.

Hifumi couldn’t help but cry in Sakura’s arms, crying himself to sleep within minutes of waking, but this sleep was far more restful. He knew he was safe. He knew he would be cared for. He knew he’d never have to go through something so bad like that ever again.

Two weeks would pass from this incident, and Hifumi would find himself locked in Hope’s Peak Academy, working with the 78th class to bolt over any window and make sure they could never, ever escape. He would agree to lock himself into the building where the worst thing to ever happen to him occurred. He agreed because Hina and Sakura would be at his side. He agreed because he knew they would be safe, together. 

Hifumi’s memories of the School Council Killing Game were unclear. He would wake from nightmares gasping for air, never fully remembering the faces of his fellow students who died, only remembering the indifferent moonlight and the gleam of deranged eyes. 

When Hifumi would ask Kyoko Kirigiri if they had ever met before, the Ultimate Lucky Student would smile awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders and saying that he must be thinking of someone else, and he would believe her, unknowing of the deep, undying loathing she carried in her heart towards him. Unknowing that she had sworn to kill him with her own hands one day. 

[dumblydork]

Wasn't expecting to be back as a writer so soon but I just absolutely CANNOT get enough of writing headcanons and AUs and JUST BEAR WITH ME OKAY

Also I feel like this is super long but it might not be idk

Some more Hinny, with a bit of Romione! So this one is set in the modern magical world. Hope you enjoy! And don't forget, if you have absolutely ANY Hinny headcanons you'd want to see written, please drop me a message or an ask anytime and I'll do my best to write one 3>

~~

"This class just CANNOT get any worse." Ron muttered, drawing lazy lines with his pen on the History of Magic textbook they were reading.

"We literally live in 2020, do we really HAVE to study all this old age crap?" He continued, now shifting to drawing circles as the teacher droned on.

Harry for one, wasn't listening to the professor (though he did vaguely hear him mention 'Goblin War' but that was about it) and neither to Ron. Harry was busy staring out of the window onto the busy streets of London below their high classroom, thinking about a certain redhead.

A certain redhead who also happened his best friend's sister.

"Hi!" Hermione's voice came in an excited whisper as she started taking out her textbook, the dull grey of it made slightly happy with all the colourful muggle stickers (once affronted, she had told Harry that they were called 'Post Its' but Harry just could never bother with the name), full of notes and extra bits. Hermione was careful not to let the professor know that she was suddenly here, a thought which hit Harry when Ron exclaimed almost loudly before Hermione kicked his foot under the table to shut him up.

"I swear to Godric you weren't here literally a minute ago how- Harry?" Ron wondered, calling his best friend.

"Yes it's very odd Ron." Harry almost sighed, back to his brooding. Hermione was doing weird things always- it was nothing new.

"Please be like Harry and stop looking so surprised. Let me focus." Hermione sneered at Ron and whipped out her pencil, furiously noting down from the board whatever the professor had been droning on about for the past 45 minutes.

"And that, is all on the Goblin War of 1785 today. Make sure you finish your homework- remember, 4 pages on the magical strategies used by the two goblin sides to win the war. I need it handed in on Monday. Class dismissed." The professor walked out with his nose in the air, as if he had imparted the knowledge of a lifetime in one single lesson. He waved a lazy hand at the board which wiped off all the notes, releasing a few cries from the back where some kids were still making notes.

"Thank Godric that's over!" Ron could almost cry. Harry was back to paying attention, especially after Hermione slapped his hand. "Earth calling whatever planet Harry Potter is on!" She laughed. The three of them got up and walked out into the corridor.

"What lesson do we have next?" Harry asked absentmindedly.

"What's up with you today? You've been like this since we returned from the Burrow well over a week ago." Ron said thoughtfully, an arm slung carelessly around Hermione's shoulder, who was surprisingly okay with it.

Harry snapped back to reality. If Ron found out, it would be Harry's head and nothing else.

"And what about the two of you? Care to explain," Harry looked at the Ron's arm, "whatever this is? You two have been just finding ways for touching each other, don't think I haven't noticed." Harry finished with a whistle, knowing this was the nerve he had hit. He almost grinned to himself.

"That," Hermione shrug off the arm around her, blushing furiously, "is just two friends being friendly." She finished, but there was a considerable change in the pitch of her voice.

"Yes yes whatever." Harry flicked a lazy hand at the two, knowing fully well they had gotten up to something in the Burrow which was only between the two of them.

The trio had reached the cafeteria where they sat down on one of the empty benches, having half hour free before moving on to Harry's most despised class- Chemistry, or Potions as it was called in the older ages.

Harry let his thoughts move back to the Burrow (courtesy this couple who were now sitting with their sides practically touching). The Burrow was Ron's house, and the trio's favourite hangout. They were there for the summer break, which had ended a week ago, but the memories were still as old as yesterday.

"Oh please, I will kick your ass at Quidditch." Ginny, Ron's younger sister and the youngest Weasley piped, her fiery red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Quidditch was the one thing Harry really enjoyed- it was rare to have Quidditch matches in school now with so much course load, so these summers were what he lived for.

Particularly this one summer where Ginny had turned up looking just gorgeous, something Harry had failed to notice in the 6 years he had known her. It wasn't as if she wasn't gorgeous before- it just struck him differently this time. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the fact that she could make Harry laugh almost always. She was not only gorgeous- Ginny had developed a sense of humour and sarcasm quite unlike her brothers- they were fond of practical jokes, whereas Ginny was more of the sharp tongued type who could make an entire room laugh without as much as waving a hand. And it was absolutely fabulous. Harry had found himself staring at her practically everyday of summer since he came to the Burrow three months ago.

The way she tied her hair up, or how she bit her lip when exasperated with her Math homework and the way her lips opened slowly first when she laughed. The slight, barely perceptible crook in her teeth and the generous sprinkling of freckles all across her face. It was all suddenly very endearing to Harry.

And hence, midway through his last week at the Burrow, Harry had come to the conclusion that he had started fancying Ginevra Weasley, his best friend Ronald Weasley's younger sister. Not to mention practically Hermione's best friend, despite being an year younger.

So that was why Harry was barely able to keep his impulses in check when he saw Ginny in her Quidditch outfit, wearing a red and gold jersey with cream coloured bottoms. But when he thought of how he could have his ears boxed in by Ron, he could very much focus back on the match and not on a heart-achingly stunning redhead.

"Language, Ginny. This girl," Ron's mom, Molly, muttered under her breath, currently putting up laundry by swishing her wand back and forth. All of the Weasley siblings were back home at the Burrow, except for Percy and Bill, who were both busy working.

"Sorry mom! As I was saying Harry, I will definitely kick your bottom in this match." Ginny corrected herself.

"Please, we shall see." Lately it was getting increasingly difficult for him to produce coherent responses in front of the woman he had come to consider as practically a sarcastic goddess. But he was proud of this response- he should continue thinking about Ron's punches.

"Okay, positions, and go!" Harry heard Arthur, Ron's father say and the match began in earnest. Hermione was sitting this one down with a novel, but at the moment was preparing a jug of lemonade the Muggle way.

Ron and Harry were one team, whereas Ginny, George and Fred were another. The game lasted for a good 40 minutes before Harry and Ron won the game by obtaining the 'snitch' (which was actually just an enchanted flying ball, kindly given to them by Arthur who had an obsession for all things Muggle).

"What happened to all that talk of kicking ass, huh?" Harry laughed, almost falling into one of the reclining chairs. Molly was handing out cool glasses of lemonade. "I think mine needs more ice." Harry said, sipping from his glass.

"Oh I totally forgot the ice! My wand is in the kitchen though." She said sheepishly, not wanting to give up her spot on the recliner. Or rather not wanting to get up from her spot next to Ron, who had decided to perch himself on Hermione's recliner despite there being an extra empty one.

"That's okay, I'll get some myself." He grinned. "I'll come too- I need to change out of this." Ginny added. They walked back inside the Burrow which was empty, with the entire family outside in the garden.

Harry waved his wand which was lying on the kitchen counter into a bowl and ice appeared, shining in the sunlight but not melting. Magic.

He added a few to his glass and leaned on the counter, sipping lazily on the drink. It was good to be away from the noise for a minute. Ginny reappeared downstairs, having changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and unholy thoughts came rushing back into Harry's brain.

"I'll get some ice too, now that I'm here." Ginny took out an empty glass and filled it with ice, presumably wanting to fill it with lemonade later. But the way she took the ice gave Harry goosebumps- she leant across him instead of asking him to move and picked a few pieces of ice from behind him. Harry was frozen in his place- Ginny made no move whatsoever to stand behind. She stood inches away from Harry, just a few centimetres shorter than him.

"Oh for goodness sakes Harry, kiss me already." She rolled her eyes but the tip of her ears went red.

"What?" Harry spluttered- it was something he had been wanting to do since the start of summer but putting it into words stunned him of sorts. Was he THAT readable?

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you've looked at me all summer, Harry. It's not that difficult to know that you fancy me. A lot. And just so you know, I do too. A lot. Have done so since Ron introduced us.* She whispered, but stepped back after her confession.

Harry was still stunned, but could anyway notice the distance she had put, now slightly unsure after her brazenness. She still stared at him, her lips shaped into an imperceptible 'O', begging to be kissed. So that's what Harry did- he pulled Ginny back towards him by her waist and placed his lips on hers, almost tasting sunlight but with cherry swirled in it. His hands remained at her waist but Ginny moved hers to lock around Harry's neck, slowly playing with the curls at his nape. She smiled into the kiss, parting her lips were slightly, just so Harry could taste her; it was sinful but decadent. Very much like a good bar of chocolate. More than good. An absolutely unbelievable bar of chocolate.

When they finally pulled back after what could have been a lifetime, or an eternity, or a few seconds, Ginny grinned at Harry. "Do you not have anything to say?" She stood there's suddenly a bit shy, with her arms still around Harry's neck.

"You said all of it for me. I do fancy you- maybe way too much." He said, feeling as if Ginny's brazen confidence was transferred into his veins.

"That's a relief, because I might or might not have been looking to get you to kiss me." She said, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"You what?" Harry stared at her incredulously, before breaking out into a wide smile.

"Don't worry, the bit about me fancying you is real. Have done so since I was 10." She added seriously.

"So are we a thing now?" Harry raised an eyebrow, quite enjoying the small circles he was making on Ginny's side.

"Keep dreaming on, Potter." She removed her hands from around his neck and disappeared like she had reappeared after changing, what felt like ages ago. Harry smiled to himself before walking outside again, his lemonade glass forgotten.

---

"Really Harry, one would think you're in love the way you're zoned out." Ron stared at him, as Harry snapped back into the real world.

"Huh? Oh yeah." He agreed absent mindedly, still reeling a bit from that summer afternoon.

"You're in love?" Hermione asked, an eyebrow raised as she looked up from what looked like homework.

"Forget me, but you do seem to be." Harry glanced at her notebook, which had R+H scribbled messily on the margins. He grinned as Hermione and Ron blushed furiously.

"Okay fine, me and Ron might have kissed at the Burrow." Hermione said, snapping her book shut as Ron stared at her longingly.

"How interesting, because me and Harry did something similar." Ginny suddenly appeared from behind and sat beside Harry, pressing her lips to his cheek.

The two boys stared back and forth. Ron's eyes widened but returned to their normal size, as Ron slung an arm around Hermione again, except this time she actually leaned into him.

"What? Is happening?" Harry looked around, first at the couple in front of him and then at Ginny. This was all extremely confusing.

"Did you think you were the only observant human to ever exist? Hermione Granger is my girlfriend, Harry. Nothing escapes her. Not when one of her best friends kisses another one of her best friends." Ron laughed.

"Wait so you're not mad?" Harry was still shaken. Was his worrying all a waste? If he'd known, he could have spent more time with Ginny, locked behind doors, his lips on hers-

"Why would I be? I'd rather Ginny end up with you rather than some other git from school." Ron's voice cut into his thoughts breezily.

"Oh. Okay." Harry settled before smiling at Ginny and weaving his hand through hers.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Harry's eyes widened.

"Wait. Hermione Granger is your girlfriend?!" The typical Potter late realisation. The three people around him laughed heartily before Harry joined in, shooting Ginny an endearing look, making the tips of her ears turn red.

[emu-lumberjack]

Don’t Answer the Phone tired Part 3

Damian’s left at the mercy of his brothers, and he really needs to start paying attention.

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

Hi guys, I’ve had probably too much caffiene late at night but heres the next part to Don’t Answer the Phone Tired. Some backstory and croissants are in order. I promise next time more Marinette. also as a side note, the Kipo soundtrack is amazing to write too. 

Part one

Part two

Part four

part five

“Since you pricks are insistent on being social, tell me how Gotham is.” Damian asked his brothers, downing a swig of coffee.

“Oh you know dark, gloomy, and full of rouges.” Dick said “But enough about Gotham. Tell us about Paris, specifically a special somebody.”

“No.” The voice he used was cold and curt. “Where do you want to eat.”

“I think there's a bakery nearby.” Jason said with a grin, the exhausted Damian didn’t put two and two together until they were at the door of the Dupain-Cheng bakery. “Shit.” Damian turned around to leave, only for Jason to pick him by his hood and look him straight in the eyes.

“Now listen here Demon spawn. We’re hungry and poor Timmy over there is freezing cold after the nice little ice bath you gave him.” A glance over to Tim saw the poor boy shivering in his still wet clothes. “So we are gonna go in there and grab some nice warm pastries. Unless there's a reason we shouldn’t, but I couldn’t think of one could you?” Damian silently cursed his mother for teaching Jason to be such an ass, more so than he normally was. He kept his mouth shut knowing it would be worse for him to say that this was Marinette's bakery.

The party walked there normal mismatch of aesthetics. The bakery smelled like warm bread and freshly baked cookies. Like Marinette. It was enough for Damian to temporarily relax and let loose a breath he’d been holding for the last hour. This change in demeanor wasn’t missed by Dick but the elder boy chose not to comment.

“Hello and welcome to the Dupain-Cheng Bake…… Oh Damian it’s you. Wait, why aren’t you at school? Is Marinette alright?” Sabine came out from behind the counter, turning off her customer service voice the minute she saw it was Damian.

“Yes Sabine she’s completely fine. In fact she made sure I got up in time.” He motioned with his coffee mug. “A real lifesaver. The reason I’m not there now is because my brothers decided they just needed to come visit me in Paris so my dad called me out for the day.” Sabiene looked at the 3 other men in the room before responding,

“Oh how delightful, you never speak of your family. I was starting to think you just hatched out of an egg somewhere.” A snicker from the boys in the back, “well no matter we must sit down and talk, I’d love to get to know them!” it was then that she noticed Tim in all of his drenched glory, “I can also lend you some of Tom’s old clothes while yours dry.”

“Oh if that wouldn’t be too much of a bother, someone thought they were funny and tried to get me up in a not so polite manner.” He glared at Damian, the latter pointedly ignoring him.

Sabine caught on to his meaning quickly and stifled a laugh “Oh it's no problem at all, they might be a bit big though.”

Ten minutes later they were situated around the table on the upper level, hot coffee in front of Jason, Tim, and Damian while Sabine and Dick both had tea. The boys had chosen different pastries. Dick went with a blueberry scone, Tim who was now sitting in a much too big white shirt and comically oversized pants for his frame had a classic butter croissant and Jason went with a pain au lait. Damian having already eaten just sat sipping his coffee.

“So Ms. Dupain-Cheng..” Dick Began.

“Oh please just call me Sabiene” She interrupted.

“Alright Sabine, Damian’s been less than forthcoming about his time here in Paris, would you be able to fill in some gaps? Like how he and Marinette met.” Damian kicked Dick from underneath the table.

“Oh I’d be happy too! It’s actually a rather cute story. Damian had just moved to Paris and was having trouble making any friends, Marinette had taken note of that and asked me and Tom, he’s my husband you’d meet him but he’s out of town right now, so she asked Tom and me to help make this boy in her class some macaroons to help him get more accustomed to Paris. We thought to remind him of Gotham so we made them Batman and Robin themed. We actually probably have a picture of them around here somewhere.” She mumbled the last bit to herself as Damian steadily slunk down in his chair attempting to hide from looks his brothers would throw his way. “Well anyway the next day they were in class, and since they sat next to each other she tried to offer him the macaroons then, but Damian being Damian didn’t want to take them. Something about not liking sweets. Instead of shying away she just split one in half and asked him to just try that.”

“I can take it from here Sabine.” Damian's voice surprised even him, but the boy knew what was coming next and it would be less embarrassing if he said it.

“Of course, you were there so you probably know it better anyway.”

Three predatory gazes settled on Damian taking note of everything he said to rely to Bruce, Damian took a breath and continued, “I took the half she offered me out of politeness, after all Sabine you and Tom worked very hard on them. They were probably some of the best Macaroons I’d ever had. Marinette left the box between the two of us on our desk and went back to her school work. When she wasn’t looking I took another one, I hadn’t eaten breakfast and it was a very nice gesture.” Damian looked up to see Dick holding his hand over his mouth, concealing a squeal most likely. Todd was looking at him with laughter in his eyes, and even Drake had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Anyway I ended up eating the entire thing, after class Marinette and I started talking more, and eventually we just ended up hanging out outside of class playing video games and the like.”

“Oh my Gosh that is so adorable.” Grayson was the first to speak after Damian finished. “Damian I never knew you could be so… so…”

“Nice?” Tim supplied.

“Yes nice!”

“I’m mainly focusing on the fact that Damian was kind enough to actually have her keep up conversation after the first one.” Jason was looking at Damian incredulously.

“Ah I see his prickly attitude is not a recent development.” Sabine said, taking a sip of her tea.

“That would be an understatement. Although believe it or not he’s actually a lot better then when we first met him.” Dick said politely.

The five of them sat quietly trading stories of Gotham and Paris, Damian firmly keeping them off the topic of him and Marinette. Cups of tea and coffee came and went until a cheerful voice called from the foyer “Mamman I’m home!” Damian immediately sprinted downstairs and tackled Marinette in a bearhug.

“Please never leave me alone with them again.”

She just laughed and said “Was it really that bad Dames?” Tim who had just walked downstairs startled chuckling.

“What’s so funny Drake?” Damian said icily.

“The fact she called you Dames! Last time I think someone tried to do that you had a katana at their throat and they were found hanging upside down from one of the gargoyles at Gotham academy.”

“Did you seriously do that Damian?” Marinette focused her gaze on him.

“Ok in my defense it’s also because he wouldn’t stop coming onto me even though I had said no. I mean he wasn’t even my type.”

“Oh and what is your type then?” She asked.

“Blue hair with gorgeous blue eyes. A complete klutz half the time, while still somehow managing to keep seven layer cakes from falling down. Someone who will draw and sketch to their heart's content, while simultaneously dealing with a dumbass. Also doesn’t hurt if they can make the most beautiful clothes.” He planted a small kiss on Marinette's cheek just to emphasize.

“Seriously, how did you do that.” Tim’s voice cut through the moment, Damian turned towards him annoyed.

“Now that is a story for after lunch. How bout we go grab some sushi and we’ll tell you.”

Not again.

Tag list (I’m assuming if you wanted to be tagged in part two you want to be tagged here, if not: welp you are anyway): 

@ur-average-reader @kristycocopop @k-laconia-bug1 @smolplantmum @dast218 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @acoursedprophetwithasmothie @g-arya @loysydark @mewwitch @itsemeanne @hauntedstudent99 @shippernaturalsanderspjoandscifi @purplesundaze

general writing tag: 

@clumsy-owl-4178

[saijspellhart]

Could you do 8 for Radicalshipping? I think it would be sweet :)

8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (Radicalshipping)

3. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond. (Radicalshipping)

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person. (Radicalshipping)

“I knew he only liked me for my body,” Bakura spat. He flicked a duel monsters card at the TV and watched it hit the screen and deflect off of Malik’s face and join its brethren on the floor.

They were watching a tournament on the television, and the broadcast was currently wrapping up Malik’s latest duel. He’d been successful of course, and they were in the post duel interviews where Malik was answering questions about his plays. Ryou was with him, their arms thrown over the other’s shoulder in congratulations and friendship.

Malik leaned his head against Ryou’s and smiled at the camera, bright and proud.

Bakura flung another card at the TV.

“I like your body.” Yami Marik pulled off a pair of headphones, and turned away from his game at the desk.

Bakura threw a card at him too. “That’s the whole point you twit! This isn’t my body.” He gestured to himself, his thin lanky frame. There were muscles, because Bakura worked for them. But they weren’t incredibly defined because Ryou had never had that sort of stature. Upon being given a second chance at life, the gods had humbled Bakura by giving him a replica of Ryou’s body, rather than his original body. “And now Malik is shacking up with my former host.”

Marik eyed the television which was still showing the interviews with Malik. He’d been purposely ignoring this portion of the broadcast. Seeing his other half always stirred troubled emotions of resent and anger in him. Feelings he was working hard to overcome.

“They look like friends to me,” Marik remarked.

“Feh,” Bakura shuffled the stack of cards in his hand. He was lounging across the couch, one foot crossed over the other. The floor around the apartment was littered with Duel Monsters cards that he’d been throwing for the last hour.

“Well he certainly wouldn’t like you for your personality,” Marik snipped. “You’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Prick,” Bakura spat.

“Bitch.”

“Wanker.”

“Look! Yugi’s on!” Marik suddenly leaped from the chair and vaulted over the couch. He snatched the remote off the coffee table, and was already turning up the volume. Bakura didn’t bother to move his legs, which didn’t bother Marik at all. He climbed onto the couch, crouching on it like L from Death Note rather than a sane normal person.

Then again, Yami Marik was not a sane and normal person. In the years of separation from Malik—and with the gift of his own body—Marik had grown into himself. In some ways he had matured, grown, and mellowed out, but in other ways he’d developed his own idiosyncrasies, and still had a streak of impulsivity that reared from time to time.

Marik turned up the volume, and even Bakura sat up straighter. The two men watched as the small “King-of-Games” appeared on screen stepping up to a podium on a duel stadium. This tournament was using a classic stadium, rather than Kaiba’s portable duel disk system.

Yugi waved to the crowd, and smiled. Then the cameras switched to his opponent, and they watched as a different person, a taller guy with black hair and a ball cap, stepped up to the opposite podium. He too, waved at the crowd. But he followed it up with a fist pump that awarded him a round of cheers.

Bakura flicked a card at the guy on the screen. It struck the man’s ball cap before bouncing onto the floor.

“Boo!” Marik voiced both their thoughts aloud.

The two Yamis resented their absence from the tournament. They had not been allowed to sign up due to a lack of identification. Kaiba promised that he was working on creating identification for them, as well as obtaining credible backstories and citizenship. They’d only been given their fleshy new bodies less than six months ago, and it had taken a lot of convincing from Yugi to persuade Kaiba to help Marik and Bakura.

Suffice to say Kaiba wasn’t exactly in a rush.

So here they were, at home—Yugi’s home, because he had been the only one willing to take them in—behaving themselves. Sort of.

Yugi’s apartment was a mess right now. The carpet blanketed in a layer of trading cards that Bakura had spent the last hour and a half throwing about.

The desk where Marik had been faired no better. It was covered in the empty cans of energy drinks, sodas, and the occasion alcohol. Marik had a tendency to stay up all night playing MMOs, and the lack of sleep only enhanced his usual crazy unkempt appearance, rather than detract from it. Amongst the cans were the various wrappers of plant protein bars and veggie chips; there were also a few cards here and there that had managed to find their way amongst the mess.

The tournament commenced after a handful of commercials and a few more interviews with the other contestants. It was mostly speculation of who they thought would win, and what strats might be employed from each player.

Bakura muttered his own commentary about Yugi’s strategies, and Marik grunted in agreement.

And then the duel was underway. Yugi was first to go, and played a face down card before ending his turn, and letting his opponent retaliate.

Ball-cap Boy, as the Yamis labeled him, lost his first summoned monster to Yugi’s trap hole.

“Kick his ass!” Screamed Marik. He was clutching the remote between his fingers like a demented gargoyle.

“Not a bad start,” Bakura remarked. “The field is wide open for Yugi to make a counter attack, and Ball-cap Boy only played one face down card.”

The turn passed back to Yugi. He drew a card.

“Yugi has cards to sweep the field of magic and traps,” Marik nodded at the screen, stating the obvious. It wasn’t necessarily for Bakura’s benefit, as they were simply voicing their own thoughts and observations.

Right on cue, Yugi used a Mystical Space Typhoon, and sent Ball-cap’s card to the graveyard. Then he used a Pot of Greed, drew two more cards, and played a Black Magic Ritual spell card. He sent two monsters from his hand, to the graveyard as tribute, and summoned Magician of Black Chaos right to the field.

This was followed by the activation of the field spell, Yami. Which cast the whole holographic playing field into a black and purple miasma. The change in field giving Yugi’s Spellcaster and Fiend type monsters a boost.

Which included Magician of Black Chaos.

Yugi struck his opponent with a savage blow to his life points, then ended his turn. His hand was empty of cards except for one. It was a vulnerable position to be in, but he did have a very powerful monster on the field.

“YAAS!” Marik bounced on the couch and howled at the TV.

“Babysitter had a very lucky hand to start with,” Bakura remarked. “This will hardly be a fair match.”

“Don’t care as long as Yugi fucks him up.”

Bakura nodded his agreement, and they both continued to watch the game unfold.

The duel didn’t conclude as one-sided as the Yamis first predicted. Ball-cap Boy managed to make a come back, and get rid of Yugi’s Magician with a spell card. After that, he had Yugi on the defensive for a bit.

But when the match finally concluded it was with Yugi’s decisive victory.

The cameras momentarily followed the loser as he slunk offstage, as well as a shower of trading cards and popcorn from Marik and Bakura.

When attention returned to Yugi, interviews and congratulations commenced. With his latest win, Yugi would be attending the semi-finals tomorrow, where he would face off against Malik Ishtar, Mai Valentine, and Weevil Underwood. They would draw names tomorrow to decide who would face off against whom.

The Yamis continued to watch the broadcast even after Yugi had excused himself from the cameras, and mysteriously disappeared. No one appeared to be able to locate him again for further interviews, and turned instead to interview various members of the crowd about today’s matches.

Twenty minutes later the apartment door flew open, and the spikey little “King-of-Games,” entered the apartment. He tossed his bag on the floor next to the shoe shelf.

“I’m home! Did you guys catch my duel?”

Bakura quickly snapped the television off and looked over the back of the couch.

“Of course not. I don’t watch bullshit.”

Marik fixed Bakura with a dark stare. Then turned and draped his large frame over the back of the couch to watch Yugi kick his shoes off.

“Oh.” Yugi’s face drooped a bit. “What were you guys watching?”

“The news.”

“My Little Pony.”

This time it was Bakura’s turn to fix Marik with a death glare. “We do NOT watch My Little Pony.”

“Keh, speak for yourself,” Marik muttered, “Discord is my kindred spirit.”

Yugi hung up his jacket and approached the two of them with an infectious smile. A smile different from his other ones, and one he only seemed to wear when he saw them. Whether it was coming home from a long day, or upon seeing them whenever they picked him up from university.

“Did you win?” Bakura inquired, folding his arms over the back of the couch.

Marik struck him with his unsocked foot, where Yugi couldn’t see. “Of course he won. Babysitter is the King.”

“I lost. Big time,” Yugi lamented. He dropped his eyes and kicked the carpet in shame. “Sano, will go on to the semi-finals tomorrow.”

Marik held out his arms, beckoning Yugi to come close for a sympathetic hug.

When he did, the Yami scooped him up instead and dragged Yugi over the back of the couch and onto the cushions between him and Bakura.

Yugi yelped in surprise.

Both Yamis drew over him like a couple of predators. It was akin to being flanked by a lion and lynx.

“Let us console you,” Bakura purred.

“We’ll ease the sting of loss,” Marik added. “Tell us how it happened.”

“You definitely should have won.”

“Especially the play with the graceful charity, and the discarding two dark magicians from your hand to boost the power of Dark Magician Girl. That was a wicked thing to do~”

“Marik! You absolute knob-head!”

“I knew it,” Yugi giggled, and a grin spread over his face from ear to ear. He stared up at the two Yamis. “You did watch my duel.”

One Yami was baring his teeth and scowling so hard that creases formed on his brow. The other was grinning with feral delight.

“I never wanted to play this game in the first place,” Marik defended. He turned his attention to their babysitter and picked up Yugi’s hand, placing a chaste kiss to the back of it. “You sacrificed your most precious monster cards so callously for power. How unlike you. We must be rubbing off on you.” he purred almost sensually.

It sent butterflies squirming in the young man’s stomach.

“Congrats of the victory, My Precious,” he hummed the words against pale skin before dragging his long tongue over Yugi’s hand and fingers. The endearing nickname was something he’d coined for Yugi after the three of them binged a Lord of the Rings marathon. Bakura refused to use it, preferring his own terms for Yugi. So this one was uniquely Marik’s.

“It was a good duel,” Bakura grumbled. He folded his arms over Yugi’s bent knees and rested his chin upon them.

Yugi couldn’t help but beam up at him even whilst Marik slipped one of Yugi’s fingers into his mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that over the sound of my hand being molested.”

“You kicked ass,” Bakura snarled louder, his cheeks suddenly flushing a deep pink. His eyes were staring at the floor off to the side though.

“Thanks.” Yugi knew the admission didn’t come lightly. Bakura was generally sparse with his compliments, and praise did not fall from his tongue lightly.

Marik was now biting Yugi’s fingers, but this didn’t bother him at all. Marik tended to be very bitey, and on numerous occasions Yugi had to get creative covering up various bruises ranging in spots from his neck to his calves.

He leaned his head back to meet Yami Marik’s lovely lavender colored eyes.

“I won my duel. So, do I get a victory kiss?”

A sinister grin pulled over Marik’s face, Yugi’s fingers still caught between his teeth. He released the thoroughly molested hand with one final lingering caress of his tongue and leant forward to place a kiss on Yugi’s cute mouth.

A pale hand intercepted, two fingers placed against Yugi’s lips before Marik could kiss him. “But I thought you lost?” Bakura sneered.

Yugi shot him a pouty look.

“We can pretend he won,” Marik tried to pry Bakura’s hand out of the way.

Bakura pushed against Marik’s forehead with his other hand. “We don’t reward losers.”

“Oh, just kiss me.” Yugi huffed, sounding a bit breathless in his demand.

“Babysitter ordered.”

“Well in that case...” Bakura pushed Yugi’s knees apart and crawled between them. He dipped his head under Marik’s nose and his mouth closed over the Game King’s. It was soft but aggressive, wasting no time coaxing Yugi to let him in, and then letting his tongue slip into the kiss.

Marik growled above them.

Bakura paid him no mind. Relishing the taste, lips moving, molding, and coaxing delightful noises from the male below them. He stole breath and sound like the thief he was, and swallowed them both. And his hand trailed over Yugi’s thigh, fingers raking over more sensitive areas until Yugi arched against him.

They broke apart for air, and Bakura watched Yugi pant, with a playful hunger in his half-lidded eyes.

Yugi blinked, and refocused just past him.

Marik’s mouth was twisted in a pout, and he looked very left out.

Yugi reached both hands up, and dragged the Egyptian down for an upside down kiss, that was more teeth than lips, but no less intense and heated.

Marik made a noise akin to a growl, but more hungry and throaty, and slipped his own hands under Yugi’s head to grasp fistfuls of his colorful spiked hair.

Both men continued to lath the little King-of-Games in attention. Occasionally squabbling with each other over possession of Yugi’s mouth. But both of them spoiling their little keeper with touches and affection.

If someone had asked Yugi six months ago if he would ever have two boyfriends—and both of them the former Yamis of his friends, Malik and Ryou—he would have laughed and called them insane. Six months ago he had still been mourning the loss of Atem. Moping about his departure for the afterlife, even though three years had already passed since the ceremonial duel.

Six months ago he had tentatively taken in the homeless, aimless, pitiable Yamis; whom the gods had saw fit to grant a second chance to redeem their souls. He had been the only one of their friend group willing to give these two the second chance he felt they deserved.

And for awhile they resented him with the same disdain they showed the rest of the world.

But Yugi never ceased being patient and kind, freely giving them his friendship. No strings attached.

They had come to accept it begrudgingly at first. And then coveted it selfishly.

Somewhere along the way friendship had morphed into affection, and feelings became complicated.

A strange relationship of hate, friendship, lust, and loyalty, that sometimes left Yugi feeling lost and drowning. He really liked them both, maybe more than he should. And they couldn’t seem to decide if they liked him, or hated him, but they certainly wanted him.

Things were now very complicated.

All this, compounded on the sinful things they were doing with their mouths, was enough to fray his nerves and light his skin ablaze with sensations and confusing emotions. It left Yugi extremely overwhelmed and dizzy.

He broke from all the attention to catch some much needed breath. Marik and Bakura backed off looking mischievous and starved, their eyes dragging over their little Babysitter like he was a juicy piece of meat.

“Why are there duel monsters cards all over the floor?” Yugi asked, finally taking in his surroundings and the state of his apartment.

“Because Bakura was huffy about staying home, and decided to fling his trading cards at everything,” Marik explained, sounding equal amounts amused and annoyed.

“Actually,” Bakura corrected. “They’re all Marik’s cards.”

Lavender eyes shot up.

“What?”

~0000~

So this was interesting to write. Sorry it took me so long. I had to agonize how I wanted to write this ship for the longest time. Pondered over their dynamic, and what circumstances would even bring them together. I hope this was satisfactory. I did a have a lot of fun writing this. Mayhaps you’ll have fun reading???

[babysizedfics]

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Chapter 8: Sink and Float

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Roman is anxious, Virgil has some compelling things to say, Logan deduces Virgil’s true regression age, Patton gets emotional, and we say good-bye.

Chapter word count: 11,750

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warning: Light angst, but cuteness galore to make up for it.

oOo

‘All right, little prince. What should I write here?’

‘His coolness rating,’ Roman replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His tongue stuck out slightly as he concentrated on his drawing; a picture of Kanga on the top half of a small piece of paper. Underneath the character were five rectangles, all coloured to varying levels of completion.

‘Of course,’ Patton said, nodding solemnly as he wrote “coolness” underneath the fifth rectangle on his own piece of paper. ‘And I’m guessing Tigger’s coolness rating is -’

‘Ten.’

‘Ten. Obviously,’ Patton giggled. He picked up the red crayon from the dining room table and coloured the final rectangle to completion. Just like the four rectangles above it. They signified Tigger’s bounciness, funniness, orangeness, and Roman’s seal of approval ratings, all maxed out. ‘I’m starting to think this card might be rigged.’

‘Nu-uh!’ Roman cried, finally looking up from his drawing with a pout. ‘Not rigged if it’s true. Tigger is the funniest, bounciest, orangest, coolest character, and he’s my favourite. He just has to win all of the rounds!’

Despite the frankly questionable logic, Patton was simply glad that Roman was back to his cheeky self.

While they baked, Roman had been strangely well-behaved. The way he had obediently mixed the batter, rolled the dough, and shaped the cookies without so much as a whinge was highly unusual. Patton was glad he didn’t have to tell the boy off for anything, of course, but there was nothing relieving in seeing Roman stand patiently at the side of the room while Patton washed up. There was no singing, no dancing, no bouncing, not so much as a peep from the little prince. It just wasn’t right.

Roman was boisterous, whether he was little or not; he was excitable and hyperactive and loud. Usually, he would have baulked at the mere suggestion of standing in silence awaiting instructions. Though that was precisely what he had done in the kitchen by his own volition, staring at his feet in quite a pensive manner.

By the time he had set the gingerbread haycorns and hunnypots on the counter to cool down, Patton had made the decision to extend their father-son bonding time. He knew Roman’s strange mood would persist if Patton didn’t get to the bottom of it.

‘Where are you going, sweetheart?’ Patton had asked when Roman had started walking towards the living room once Patton had finished the dishes.

‘Back with Vee and Mom,’ Roman had replied. ‘We can’t decorate them yet.’

‘It’s still father-son bonding time though! Why don’t we find something fun to do while we wait?’

He wasn’t quite as bouncy as Patton had hoped he would be, but Roman at least smiled at the suggestion.

Now, after almost an hour of crafting Pooh Cards (all design credit owing to Roman, of course), the creative side had finally been coaxed out of his sombre, contemplative mood. Patton himself had even perked up from the reassurance that he still knew what was best for his little prince.

‘What if another player that isn’t you gets Tigger’s card?’ Patton asked, neatening the edges of the coloured rectangle. He was careful not to budge Roman with his elbow as did so. ‘Won’t you be sad to lose?’

The scritch of Roman’s crayon paused for a moment, then continued. ‘It will be a worthy loss.’

What a funny little boy, Patton thought with a chuckle. Having finished with Tigger’s statistics, he put the crayon back in Roman’s Lion King pencil case. ‘Okay, last one!’ He slid the card across the table to Roman’s spot. ‘Do you need your dad’s help to draw Tigger?’ Patton asked. (Not so much because he was expecting a positive response, but because he knew the question reinforced both of their respective headspaces.)

‘I got it!’ An orange crayon was snatched from the table.

Patton sat back and watched as Roman drew his favourite character with a bright smile. It was impossible not to mirror it. ‘Once you’ve finished drawing Tigger we can decorate our cookies!’

‘Dad,’ Roman whined without looking up from his drawing, ‘they’re not cookies. They’re haycorns and hunnypots.’

‘Right, haycorns and hunnypots,’ Patton quickly corrected himself. ‘I keep making that mistake, don’t I?’

There was no response from Roman, who was clearly concentrating on getting Tigger’s tail just so.

‘Cutie pie,’ Patton couldn’t help but coo. When he pinched Roman’s cheek the younger side laughed so sincerely that Paton was hit by a wave of equal parts joy and guilt.

Joy because Roman was happy and so utterly adorable. Guilt because Patton clearly didn’t spend enough time with his little prince if this was such a rare sound to him.

‘I’ll get the icing ready,’ Patton whispered, leaving the room quickly.

By the time he had moved the cookies and the icing bowls into the dining room, Roman’s drawing was complete. Patton praised him heartily for his work (to which Roman blushed and giggled) as he arranged their workspace with the three different bowls of glace icing - yellow, pink, and mint green - and the cookies, plus a tube of white writing icing for the hunnypot labels.

Excited to be in charge of yet another creative project, Roman instantly took on a leading role. ‘Dad, you’ve gotta do the writing on the hunnypots and fen - and f-th-then I’m gonna do all the pretty colours!’

‘Right-o, kiddo!’ Patton saluted him, then got right to work. ‘You always have such wonderful ideas, don’t you, little prince?’ The lid to the writing icing tube put up a slight resistance as Patton unscrewed it.

‘Mhm… I’m clever,’ Roman mumbled slowly, concentrating as he spread some green icing onto one of the haycorn cookies.

‘Just like your mom. I’m sure him and Vee agree too.’

‘Vee thinks I’m clever?’ Roman asked, his voice a pitch higher from excitement.

‘Of course, sweetie. He looks up to you a lot.’ The tail of the “Y” that Patton piped accidentally curled off of the hunnypot in his hand. Patton placed the cookie back on the cooling rack and licked the sugary blob off from his fingertip. ‘You two are such lovely brothers - you’re practically inseparable.’

There was a gentle snap. Both Patton and Roman looked down to see that the haycorn in Roman’s hands had snapped in half.

‘Oh…’ Roman breathed as he looked down at the broken cookie. The pout on his face was so intense that Patton was almost worried he would start crying.

‘No, it’s okay. Here,’ Patton gently took the gingerbread pieces from his fingers. ‘Your dad can work his magic and glue it back together with icing. You just keep making them look pretty, sweetheart.’

They resumed decorating in silence, with something indescribable hanging heavily in the air between them. Patton kept quiet, allowing Roman space to speak if he wanted to say anything. Then, after a couple of minutes:

‘Dad?’

It sounded shy, so instead of looking at Roman and possibly making him more nervous, Patton’s eyes remained on the haycorn halves that he held together. White icing oozed from the crack as he waited for it to set. ‘Yes, my bright ray of sunshine?’

The nickname pulled a little giggle from Roman, brightening the atmosphere infinitely. He sounded a bit more confident when he asked, ‘Is, um… is Vee wearing a diaper?’

Patton’s gaze snapped onto Roman’s face in faint shock.

‘There was a weird sound when Mom moved him earlier,’ Roman explained. ‘And you said he feels littler ‘cause you tried something new.’

There was no variation of upset or amusement on Roman’s face, so Patton was not concerned when he confirmed, ‘Yes, he is wearing a diaper, you’re right.’ Though he still felt it important to add, ‘Does that make you feel okay?’

Roman quickly nodded, clearly desperate to show that he was not in opposition. ‘No, it’s fine. W-wait, I mean yeah! Yeah, it’s okay.’ His eyes fell down to the cookie in his hands as he continued decorating. ‘It makes sense. Babies need diapers, right?’

‘Right.’

The way Roman gazed at his cookie reminded Patton of how he had appeared in the kitchen; contemplative. It was clear that Roman had more to say, going by the way his toes tapped at the foot of Patton’s chair rapidly. Patton waited.

‘Okay, wait, so,’ Roman eventually said, sounding as if he were a student troubling himself over a difficult math problem and Patton was the teacher who could shed some light on its solution. ‘Virgil really can’t go to the toilet?’

Patton readjusted himself to lean his elbows on the table, settling in to patiently help Roman through his confusion. ‘Not when he’s regressed, no.’ The cookie halves wobbled a little in his hold.

‘And can he really not speak properly?’

This time Patton had to take a moment to think over his answer. He hadn’t actually considered questioning whether Virgil’s hindered speech was genuine. Now that he thought about it, Virgil did appear to try hard when he spoke while regressed. Although the babbles were quiet and seemed to meld into each other, they were notably forced. As if he was putting a lot of effort into getting them out. And yet they were only ever half-coherent at the best of times.

‘No,’ Patton said, smiling to himself at the realisation. ‘I don’t think he can.’ The reminder that Virgil’s regression was all-encompassing sent a rush of excitement racing through Patton’s veins. He truly was responsible for an incredibly vulnerable baby. While that thought might have been intimidating to some, Patton was filled with pure comfort at the mere thought. It was like he was finally fulfilling his purpose. It was like coming home.

‘So… Vee is really, actually a baby.’ Roman’s eyes were wide and his voice laced with astonishment.

‘Yes,’ Patton confirmed with a giggle. It sounded like this was a new revelation to Roman. ‘Your baby brother is really, actually a baby.’

Roman’s brow pulled into a light frown as his spoon swiped over his cookie one last time before dropping into the icing bowl with a clatter.

It was clear Roman wanted to ponder over the answer, for whatever reason, so Patton turned his attention to testing the cookie in his hands. At the slightest pressure, the two halves broke free from each other, and he tutted. Replenishing the icing more liberally this time, he held the jagged edges together firmly again.

‘I like that,’ Roman muttered.

‘What’s that, sweetie?’

‘I like having a baby brother.’ Patton saw Roman nodding as if assuring himself of his decision. ‘I don’t want Vee to be like me, I like that we’re different.’

The last part seemingly came from nowhere, and the whole discussion seemed oddly disjointed, though Patton didn’t show his confusion. Instead, he opted for his standard smile of loving support, which would always be appropriate in any situation as far as Patton was concerned.

‘Well, I’m glad you like it!’ His tone bounced cheerfully. ‘And I know that Vee really loves having a big brother.’

‘Hm,’ Roman hummed and picked up a hunnypot cookie to decorate. Something in the slow movements of his fingers as he iced the treat felt off.

Patton nudged him gently, jostling his elbow. A sympathetic smile wormed its way onto his lips when he saw distant eyes snap onto him. Roman’s throat rolled with a gulp.

‘What’s the matter, little prince?‘ Patton murmured sweetly. It never took Roman long to blurt any troubling thoughts that hurtled through his mind when Patton asked about them with such softness.

Right on cue, Roman sighed explosively. Then he began: ‘Now that I’m part of the family -’

(Patton’s heart twisted. Now that Roman was part of the family. As if he hadn’t been before.)

‘- I’m kind of…’ Roman paused, nibbling his lip. His eyes fell to the table as he whispered, ‘I’m scared.’

Patton instantly dropped his cookie to the table. He didn’t care that it split apart once more, leaving a thin line of white, sugary goop on the wooden surface - his only priority at that moment was Roman. His little prince always placed so much importance on being fiercely brave and strong. Patton knew this must have been an exceptional circumstance for him to actually admit to feeling afraid.

‘What are you scared of, honey?’ he asked, his tone as steady and firm as the arm he placed around Roman’s shoulders. It was of utmost importance that Roman saw him as a supportive, strong father figure during that moment of rare vulnerability. It had to be known that Patton would protect him from anything that was causing him distress.

‘I’m scared it’ll end.’ Thankfully, Roman clearly found Patton supportive enough to lean against him as he spoke. ‘You know, us being a family.’

It was difficult to contain the urge to shrug off the mere idea. Though Patton knew better than to dismiss his loved ones’ worries, no matter how seemingly unlikely. ‘Why do you think it will end?’ he asked instead.

A sharp shrug jostled both of their bodies. ‘I don’t know… What if Vee stops regressing?’

‘I don’t think that will happen,’ Patton said gently as he swayed them to and fro. The weight against his side got heavier as Roman leaned into his one-armed embrace. ‘Your mom thinks the regression is written right into Virgil’s brain since he’s done it for so many years. It’s a part of him.’

‘Okay…’ Roman sounded uncertain still, reaching forward to fidget with the hem of Patton’s cardigan. ‘What if me and him start arguing all the time again?’

Taking the long fingers in his own, Patton whispered, ‘You won’t,’ with absolute confidence. ‘I don’t think you could go back to how you used to be after everything you boys have shared with each other.’

When Patton pressed a soft kiss to Roman’s cheek, he honestly expected to feel the tension leave Roman’s body.

Instead, the grip around Patton’s fingers tightened painfully. ‘What if he says he doesn’t wanna be brothers anymore?’ Roman’s words were frantic, panicked. ‘I don’t wanna lose him, he’s the best brother I…’

Silence reigned.

Patton’s gaze sunk to the tabletop where the two halves of the haycorn cookie lay torn apart, joined only by a thin trail of icing.

‘I just don’t want us to be split up,’ Roman whispered brokenly.

Memories flooded Patton’s mind. Of two boisterous children, identical twins, perpetually by each other’s sides despite their constant arguing. Of fearsome fights; scratching and biting and screaming. And of a thought, just a thought, that had passed through Patton’s mind one sunny day like an innocent floating cloud. The thought that one of the twins had potential and that the other was… wrong.

Memories of the following day and only seeing one child come out from their room. Of little snippets of conversation between Janus and Logan. Of realising that the other twin had not ceased to exist, but had been moved to the lower parts of the mind. (No one understood how. It was the only time a side had been moved between the conscious and the subconscious.) (That would change over a decade later when Virgil timidly knocked on their door.)

Memories of the “good” twin - Roman - seeming unaffected by the loss of his brother. Happier, even, that his ideas had no contenders. That there was no longer a double of him suggesting all manner of disturbing things that Patton simply could not stand to hear.

Warm fingers tightened further around his.

As Patton’s awareness was reeled against that cold, crashing wave of regret, his mind spluttered. Unaffected? Patton realised now the ridiculousness of the mere notion that Roman would have been unchanged by the split. By the fleeting thought from Patton - he himself still being a child at the time - that had acted as the catalyst for such an irrevocable shift in the twins’ lives. In everyone’s lives.

‘Dad?’ Roman’s gentle voice broke the surface of Patton’s turbulent reverie.

With a steadying breath, Patton forced himself back to the present and clasped both hands around Roman’s. He prayed that the tightness of his grip would dispel the trembling of his fingers.

‘You and Virgil love each other very much,’ he said, ‘and you’ve both become a lot better at showing it; when you’re little and when you’re big. Even if you did argue, you could never stop being brothers. Not now. I promise, nothing will -’ Patton’s voice was suddenly strangled by an involuntary gulp. He felt his cheeks burn as he swallowed past the knot of nerves in his throat. ‘Nothing will tear you apart,’ he finished quietly.

‘What if you and Logan break up?’

It was easy to forget how different Roman’s voice was when he was little. Him being such a master at adapting his voice for different roles, the shift in tone was subtle, though effective. The slightest bit higher in pitch, though not unnaturally so. Much bouncier in intonation, but not inappropriately so. Changed, but not overexaggerated. (Perhaps Roman was accustomed to minimising the impact of changes, Patton realised.)

Though now it was clear. This question was deeper, louder, bigger than the previous ones. It was a question from adult Roman.

Patton sighed and met Roman’s eyes equally. At that moment he was no longer a father speaking to his son, but rather a friend reassuring a friend.

‘If, for whatever reason, Logan and I stop dating…’ Patton paused. That was the first time he had verbally acknowledged that they were an item. It truly felt amazing to admit to someone besides Logan himself. Though it was a melancholy experience, to be announcing their relationship while simultaneously theorising its demise. ‘If that ever happens then we’ll still be very good friends. And we will all still be a family, I promise.’

The reluctance faded from Roman’s expression and he wriggled his hand free from Patton’s hold. A finger raised between their faces. ‘Pinky promise?’ Roman asked in childlike hopefulness.

Patton curled his little finger around Roman’s. ‘Pinky promise,’ he said earnestly.

Taking advantage of the fact that Roman’s hand was apprehended - and desperate to distract from the loaded atmosphere - Patton swiped some icing onto Roman’s face.

‘Hey!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Patton asked in mock-confusion.

Roman glared at him past a smile. ‘There’s icing on my cheek!’

‘Oh, let me get that for you!’ Patton pressed a long, wet kiss to Roman’s cheek, the icing spreading between his lips.

‘Da-ha-d,’ Roman giggled, trying to squirm away.

With a loud smack of his lips, Patton pulled away laughing. As he licked his lips clean, he took a moment to appreciate the pure joy on Roman’s face. ‘I love you, little prince. And I love Virgil and I love Logan. And I know for a fact that you all love each other too. That will never, ever end. No matter what.’

There was a loud screech of chair legs against the floorboards then Roman was on his feet, hunching over to hold Patton in a deadly-tight hug. Patton returned it with a strained wheeze.

‘I don’t want it to end,’ Roman mumbled into his shoulder. ‘I don’t want anything to change.’

That was a loaded statement if Patton had ever heard one. The sentiment behind it was clear and admirable, of course. Like Roman, Patton too loved how their family was faring and wouldn’t change it for the world. Though he was hit by the reality of just how much had changed in the past few weeks, the past few days, even the past few hours!

Regardless, he knew what Roman meant, and he wasn’t one to magnify the ambiguity of language choices. That was Logan’s job.

So - despite his uncertainty in the generalisation of the statement - Patton held Roman closer and said, ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

oOo

As much as he had enjoyed his and Roman’s Father-Son bonding time (which they agreed would become a weekly ritual from then on), Patton was more than eager to return to the living room and be the happy pappy again.  It was hard to shake the melancholy from the earlier conversation, after all.

Once the hunnypots and haycorns were decorated and left to set in the kitchen, the two traipsed back down the hallway. Patton stopped just short of opening the living room door when he heard a muffled, unintelligible conversation coming from the other side of it.

He looked behind him to Roman, who mirrored his confusion. The distant voices sounded as if they were holding a full-fledged discussion. Could Virgil have been grown-up again?

Patton pushed the door open with a deep disappointment that he didn’t quite want to acknowledge. Though on poking his head into the room, it didn’t take long to see that Virgil was still regressed and in Logan’s lap. He sighed in relief.

‘Mamanaba,’ Virgil muttered, rattling Meeko with fervour. The inflection of his voice was similar to that of normal speech, even if the actual content was gibberish and his tone was still decidedly babyish.

Logan’s hands readjusted on Virgil to hold him steady as the boy kept bouncing in his lap. ‘My goodness, I never considered such a thing! Though I don’t believe that is quantifiable.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Roman laughed from behind Patton, then stepped around him in the direction of the couch.

There was nothing but pure paternal instinct that made Patton hurriedly reach out and pull Roman backwards against his chest and into his arms. He just could not bear to see the others being so sweet while his own arms were empty of one of his babies. Thankfully, Roman just settled against him and didn’t comment on it.

‘This is an academic debate, little prince,’ Logan explained very seriously, offering one of his false-stern looks. His lips twitched. ‘No interruptions, please.’

‘W-waba, mamama,’ Virgil babbled, his voice now squeaky with excitement.

Logan gasped loudly and looked at Virgil in amazement, to which the regressor giggled. ‘What a fascinating hypothesis! But have you considered the subjectivity of such a theory?’

There was a moment of quiet while Virgil looked over at the doorway to Patton and Roman. It seemed he had only just noticed their appearance. Meeko was raised to hide Virgil’s face as he collapsed against Logan’s chest. ‘Baba,’ Virgil whined, muffled by the toy at his chin.

A loud chuckle rang out. ‘Well, you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about,’ Logan said, cupping the back of Virgil’s head protectively.

‘Mom, can you speak baby?’ Roman asked, sounding thoroughly impressed. As he spoke, he launched himself away from Patton’s chest and skipped over to stand in front of the couch.

‘It certainly sounds like it,’ Patton murmured, watching Roman go. The sudden emptiness in his arms couldn’t hold a candle to the emptiness in his chest. Why was he so sensitive all of a sudden? Why did his chest physically ache when he wasn’t holding his boys?

Then his thoughts came to a crashing stop. No. This wasn’t about him and what he wanted. Roman obviously didn’t want a hug so he was perfectly within his right to wriggle out of it. Patton had been keeping him from his brother, after all. The memories of his and Roman’s previous conversation rose in tides, threatening to spill over. Patton had been keeping Roman from his brother again.

‘What did you two get up to, little prince?’ Logan asked. ‘Did you have fun with your dad?’

As Roman launched into an impassioned regaling of the creation of Pooh Cards and his expert cookie decorating skills, Patton floated over to the couch - specifically towards the baby in Logan’s lap. His knuckle ghosted over Virgil’s smooth cheek and elicited a small coo from him. The contact and the sweet sound filled Patton with a sudden motivation that he hadn’t realised he had been lacking.

Then Virgil pulled himself to sit up from Logan’s chest and shook his rattle right by Patton’s ear with a bright smile that threatened to dislodge his pacifier. ‘Babababa.’

‘What a fun sound!’ Patton gushed, only faintly acknowledging that Roman’s monologue had just drawn to a close. ‘I see someone’s woken up a bit since we left.’

‘He is rather enraptured by the rattling sound,’ Logan said, shuffling Virgil in his lap so that he could more directly face the others. (It was true, the way Virgil stared at his toy looked as if we were both confused and amazed by the sounds coming from it; almost spellbound.) ‘I think it’s safe to say that it is a “good stim”.’ He directed his gaze to Roman and said, ‘Virgil appreciates his present from you Roman, even if he is not able to tell you as much at the moment. Thank you for making your little brother happy.’

Roman flopped down to sit on the couch a couple of feet away from Logan with pink cheeks. ‘S’okay,’ he muttered with a nonchalant shrug that was betrayed by his wide smile.

Quite unexpectedly, Virgil whined loudly and dropped Meeko to the couch. Then he wriggled and reached his arms out towards his brother so insistently that he slid right off of Logan’s lap.

‘Vee!’ Logan yelped.

Patton acted lightning fast, dropping to his knees and catching Vee in one fell swoop. A fraction of a second later and Virgil would have hit the ground.

‘Woah, there we go.’ Patton hoisted Virgil onto his hip and stood upright again, keeping a firm arm under Virgil’s diaper to support him. ‘Are you okay, angel?’ he asked breathlessly, residual adrenaline surging through his veins.

The shock didn’t fade from Virgil’s expression for several seconds. Then, at last, his eyes swam with thick tears and he broke into a constant stream of whimpers.

‘Aww, my little baby,’ Patton cooed. He started bouncing him lightly as parents often did with wailing infants. ‘You’re all right, sweetie. Shh-shh-shh.’ Virgil’s whimpers quickly quieted at the bouncing so Patton kept it up, warm adoration swelling in his chest at just how alike a real baby Virgil was.

With a wet sniffle, Virgil buried his face against Patton’s shoulder.

‘That’s it,’ Patton murmured. ‘Papa has you, you’re safe.’ He felt a pinch at his side and looked down to see that Virgil was gripping his cardigan and tugging on the material harshly. Without looking away from his baby, Patton held his free hand out to the couch. ‘Can someone please pass me Meeko?’

A few seconds passed without any softness being pressed into his hands. Patton looked over to find Logan and Roman sat staring at him in stunned silence.

It felt as though he had unknowingly done something horribly wrong. Heat flooded his cheeks. ‘What’s wrong, what did I do?’ Was he being a bad Dad? Would they take his baby away? His grip on Virgil tightened.

‘N-nothing,’ Logan stammered.

A loud snort sounded from Roman. ‘Wow, Dad’s pretty strong, isn’t he, Mom?’

‘Oh,’ Patton breathed with a nervous chuckle, trying to hide how utterly relieved he was. The look of betrayal Logan was directing towards Roman inspired enough amusement for it to be passable. ‘You carried him earlier too, Lo.’

‘I know that,’ Logan defended, his cheeks dusting pink as he looked back at Patton. ‘Just… not with one arm.’

Patton’s eyes trailed down to realise that he was indeed bouncing Virgil easily with only one arm. 

Logan cleared his throat then muttered, ‘It is rather impressive.’

‘Well, I’m a dad,’ Patton giggled lightly. He would never have imagined Logan would be flustered by such a thing. ‘Dads need to be strong for Dad Stuff!’

‘Like catching Moms when they swoon.’

At Roman’s cheeky remark, Logan’s mouth dropped open. The creative side quickly descended into giggles.

Patton witnessed the shock on Logan’s face be wiped away by an evil grin. ‘Oh, I’ll give you something to laugh about.’ Then Roman was being tugged towards Logan’s chest, Logan’s fingers wriggling in his underarms.

‘W-wait! Wait!’ Roman’s legs kicked against the couch as he was dragged into Logan’s lap. ‘Mom, ple-he-he-ase!’ he pleaded through already hysterical laughter.

Patton giggled and shook his head. It wasn’t often Logan tickled their little prince, but when he did he was merciless. Roman’s begging would not help him.

Amongst the raucous laughter and tumbling on the couch, Patton managed to swipe Meeko from the cushion before Roman’s ankles thrust into it with a squeal.

‘Here you are, honey bunny,’ Patton said, worming the toy between his cardigan and Virgil’s fingers.

The weight on his shoulder lifted as Virgil looked up with a curious hum. On seeing that he had been reunited with his raccoon, his eyes sparkled with joy rather than tears. And, as expected, he rattled the toy for what must have been the hundredth time.

‘Why did you jump off of Mama’s lap, Vee?’ Patton asked, fully aware that Virgil might not have been old enough to even understand the question. It was worth a try at least.

The question seemed to break Virgil from the trance the rattle had him under and he started whining and wriggling violently.

‘Baby, baby, it’s okay,’ Patton tried to soothe him. It was only met with louder whines and harder kicks. ‘All right, down we go,’ he sang, doing his best to make the words bounce with joy. It was difficult considering the immense sinking sensation in his stomach as he carefully lowered Virgil to the floor.

‘Is everything all right?’

Patton looked up at Logan’s breathless question, pleasantly surprised to see Roman still in Logan’s lap, finally free of the tickle attack.

‘I just asked him why he jumped off your lap.’

At the reminder, Virgil thrust his arms out towards Roman again and pleaded, ‘Wo… Wo-Wo!’

‘I didn’t do anything!’ Roman’s shoulders raised defensively as he looked to Patton. ‘It wasn’t my fault he fell!’

‘We know that, little prince. It’s all right,’ Logan assured him, embracing him to his chest.

With a gentle smile, Patton realised that Virgil was not blaming Roman for the fall whatsoever. ‘Sweetheart, I think Vee just wants to play with you.’

Virgil’s arms stretched even further into the empty space between himself and the couch. ‘Pway!’

‘Oh, um,’ Roman hesitated, looking at the ground and running his fingers over Logan’s arms, which were fastened around his waist.

‘I would like to stretch my legs anyway,’ Logan said, carefully sliding Roman off of his lap.

There was a short moment of thick quiet. It was over in an instant as Logan quickly rose to his feet, announcing that he would fetch some more toys for them before promptly leaving the room.

Before long, Logan had returned with supplies and the caregivers had set up a baby-safe play area for the boys. A large fluffy blanket lay across half of the living room floor and more than two dozen soft toys sat around the edges of the blanket, cordoning off the area. Around the room, cushions and pillows padded the harsh corners of the coffee table, TV unit, and radiator to avoid any painful bumps.

Roman was as bubbly as ever, overspilling with exuberant playfulness as he finally had his little brother’s full attention.

‘And what doth the King Meeko have to say to this usurper?’ Roman cried regally, bouncing his stuffed dog Bumpkin in his hands to indicate that he was speaking.

Virgil giggled and bounced in place where he sat against the foot of the armchair, carefully propped up by two pillows. His laughter mixed with the rattles coming from Meeko as he shook him.

‘Vee, what do you want Bumpkin to say?’ Logan mumbled from where he sat beside Patton on the couch.

A happy hum rolled from Patton’s chest. It was rare that they got a chance to sit together while both boys were little, but Virgil had gotten surprisingly fussy when Logan tried to sit with him on the blanket. It seemed the excitement of being with Roman had chased away his languid energy and he wanted to sit alone with his brother while they played.

Despite Patton’s increasing panic at seeing his little baby sitting all on his own, not in his arms, Patton felt comforted by Logan’s closeness. It meant he could run his fingers idly over Logan’s thigh as Logan’s arm draped heavily across his shoulders. He took the rare moment of casual intimacy in stride. Usually, they had to sneak around while the boys were asleep to cuddle and kiss. Though since he had spoken so openly about their relationship with Roman in the dining room, and seeing as Virgil was either unbothered by or unaware of their displays of affection, they allowed themselves this intimate moment.

‘A-ababa,’ Virgil babbled, pointing to the soft toy in Roman’s hands.

Roman sucked in a pained breath through his teeth. ‘Oof. That’s brutal, Vee.’ It earned him a bright symphony of babyish giggles.

Over the next few minutes, Patton brought his cellphone out to take pictures of the littles. Then when Logan pointed out that he had taken more than twenty almost identical photographs, Patton rolled his eyes with a playful nudge to his partner. He would have easily taken a thousand pictures if it meant he could remember this day by the adorable scene in front of him, rather than the blunt, heavy regret hammering away within him. 

‘How old is Vee right now?’ Patton wondered aloud, partly because he was watching Virgil through his phone screen. Partly because he just needed Logan’s voice to drown out Roman’s sorrowful words from earlier that kept replaying in his head.

‘Going by his babbling and playfulness,’ Logan replied, ‘I would place him around eight or nine months.’

All of the breath wrung from Patton’s lungs as he snapped his gaze onto Logan. ‘Months?’

Not seeming to notice Patton’s shock, Logan continued watching the boys with a gentle smile and nodded.

‘That’s way younger than he usually is…’ Patton placed his phone down on the couch, feeling shaky all of a sudden.

‘I am not so certain.’ A thumb started circling softly over Patton’s knuckles as Logan explained in a low murmur, ‘At first he told us he regressed from two to five years old. Though I have been observing his behaviour over the past few weeks, and I believe he has been greatly mistaken in this estimation.’

The soft material of Logan’s slacks bunched between Patton’s fingers. ‘What, do you think he’s not that old?’ The new information bombarded him with the horrible thought that he hadn’t been doing his job as a father if he hadn’t even noticed how old Virgil was when he regressed.

Gaze fixed on their boys, lips fixed in an oblivious smile, Logan went on: ‘Nothing I have seen of his regression has suggested he is ever older than two and a half years - though even then, being that old is rare for him.’ He tilted his head in thought, which would have been adorable had Patton’s vision not been pulsating with his frantic heartbeat. ‘I wonder whether he misunderstands developmental stages, or whether it is simply a case of him being unaware of his own behaviour patterns.’

‘What ages does he actually regress to?’ Patton whispered. He stared intently at Logan, desperate for the answer that he had apparently been too incompetent to see for himself.

With utmost confidence, Logan said, ‘Three to twenty-four months.’

Hot tears sprang to Patton’s eyes. ‘Three months…’ he echoed under his breath. Practically a newborn. With a gulp, Patton’s watery eyes settled on Virgil. A newborn who had been alone for so many years.

His wet eyes being glued on Virgil’s steadily blurrier form, Patton was startled when he felt Logan’s arm pushing insistently at his shoulders. Within seconds Patton was on his feet and being swiftly ushered into the hallway. His heart lurched when the blue and purple blob fell out of sight as he was guided past the corner of the doorway and the tears finally fell to his cheeks.

‘Your dad and I are right outside if you need us. Keep playing with your little brother,’ Logan’s voice said, then the door was pulled mostly shut and Patton was surrounded by long, warm arms. ‘What’s wrong, Patton?’

It all happened so quickly that he had no hope of burying his emotions, so Patton didn’t speak. He just clung to Logan and sniffled into his shoulder, thinking about what he had learned. About Virgil being so young and consequently about everything he had ever had to deal with on his own. The loneliness, the accidents, the bullies.

Patton bit his tongue through a wave of overwhelming anger. Over the course of the next minute, he simply took in deep, shaky breaths, glad that Logan did nothing but tap out one-second intervals on his back to aid his breathing.

Then, just as he thought he had overcome the worst of it, a babyish giggle rang from behind the living room door.

A sob wrenched its way from Patton’s throat.

‘My love, please tell me what’s wrong,’ Logan pleaded, his voice gentle though pained.

‘Sorry,’ Patton choked, pulling his face back from Logan’s shoulder to scrub his sleeve over his eyes. When he opened them and caught the utter sincerity in Logan’s concerned expression, the tears started anew. What exactly had Patton done to deserve such a wonderful man?

Patton couldn’t bear to hold back his lament any longer, keeping quiet so as not to upset the boys in the next room. ‘He’s just so - he’s literally just a baby. He’s innocent and - and vulnerable and -’ his voice wobbled and broke off with a shuddered breath. As he recollected all Virgil had told them of the hate he received on his blog, that same boiling rage oozed through Patton’s entire being. It stung and made him tremble. Like poison. ‘I can’t believe those horrible people would bully him for it!’

At the hissed tone, Logan’s face crumpled with a wince. Patton was ready to vehemently apologise for himself - about to claim he had no idea where that came from, it wasn’t him at all - until Logan said, ‘I know. I am angry too.’

There was no way Patton could have predicted how comforting those four words were. They doused the fire in his chest and left him dumbstruck. The raging indignance that had been snapping and flaring within him all afternoon suddenly disappeared and all that was left was a smouldering, pathetic sorrow.

Patton slumped back into Logan’s arms in defeat.

‘He was on his own for so many years, Lo. It’s bad enough he couldn’t look after himself,’ Patton whispered and shook his head, Logan’s shirt rustling faintly with the movement, ‘but on top of that some strangers attacked him just for - for -’

‘For trying to feel safe,’ Logan finished, twining his fingers gently in Patton��s thick hair.

Delighted, squeaky laughter echoed from the living room.

‘Not everyone is accepting.’ The deep voice vibrated in Logan’s chest. Patton held onto him tighter. ‘It is an unfortunate reality in both Thomas’ world and ours, and I understand it is upsetting. As much as we would like to, we simply cannot protect our boys from every possible threat.’

The icy pang of dread in Patton’s gut was twice as toxic as the scalding anger from before. What was Patton’s whole purpose if not to look after his family?

‘Virgil was not completely helpless to it, though,’ Logan continued. ‘He disabled anonymous asks without being prompted to do so. That shows he had the foresight to prevent it from happening again. He was protecting himself.’

Gentle shivers radiated over Patton’s scalp as Logan’s fingernails combed through his hair. ‘That’s meant to be our job,’ he argued weakly, ‘and he didn’t even tell us about it.’

‘Not at first,’ Logan conceded. ‘Still, that does not mean he did not trust us.’ Then Logan pulled back from the hug, leaving Patton cold. ‘You know how reluctant he is to share things that he perceives as embarrassing. Your conversation with him yesterday proves as much,’ he said, turning and walking down the hallway.

‘Where are you going?’ Patton shrieked, his hands curling into tight fists by his sides.

Logan looked back in shock. Then he carefully reached out to pick up the tissue box that sat on the cabinet by the staircase. The movement was slow, and Logan watched Patton all the while as if he were a startled animal that had to be monitored.

Shame flooded Patton. ‘Oh. Sorry, just… not done cuddling you yet.’

A soft smile replaced Logan’s frown and he brought a couple of tissues back to Patton, holding him again and dabbing at his itchy eyes. ‘I didn’t realise you would be competing with a box of tissues for my attention,’ Logan chuckled.

Patton knew it was a joke, of course he did. He loved jokes and he loved that Logan was finally comfortable enough in himself to make them without fearing people's opinions of him. But suddenly the heat in his chest was reignited.

‘Why didn’t you just summon them?’ Patton asked flatly.

The tissue that Logan stroked over his cheekbone faltered.

‘You always say how important it is that we don’t challenge the mindscape,’ Patton went on, glad that this topic had distracted Logan enough from his sudden clinginess. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you summon since you realised the whole - what’s it called?’

‘Equivalent exchange,’ Logan supplied, blushing. It was he who realised that the programming he had set up for their mindscape to follow real world laws of physics glitched whenever the sides took advantage of their powers; summoning an object would make another of similar mass and/or sentimental worth disappear, and breaking the laws of physics would train the mindscape to disparage Logan’s carefully crafted code. For the sake of stability in their environment, they had long since all agreed to sacrifice the convenience of summoning unless in emergencies. Logan most of all, which is why Patton was so shocked when he saw he had summoned a baby book earlier. ‘I understand it was hypocritical of me to break my own rule. I apologise, it won’t be happening again.’

Patton nodded. He didn’t want Logan to think he was upset with him, though he was satisfied that he had redirected the conversation effectively. ‘What was so urgent about a baby book anyway?’

‘I could not think of anything to calm Vee down,’ Logan explained, pocketing the crumpled tissue as Patton’s face was perfectly dry by then. ‘Regretfully, I acted quite impulsively in response to his crying.’

‘Oh no, was the poor thing upset?’ Patton asked, all harsh emotion replaced by softness and concern for his little one.

With a soft sigh, Logan leaned forward to press a kiss to Patton’s forehead. ‘You know how his separation anxiety is,’ he murmured against his skin, lingering there.

Patton frowned at Logan’s chest. ‘He still has separation anxiety?’

‘Of course,’ Logan said, putting some distance between them to look down at him.

‘But,’ Patton blinked rapidly, ‘earlier he was okay with me leaving and he - he hid from me, I thought -’

‘Patton, it doesn’t disappear from one positive experience,’ Logan explained, his arms still wrapped around Patton’s shoulders. ‘It may have been dimmed momentarily though it is still very much present. I believe it may be a permanent fixture of his headspace, simply due to the ages he regresses to and his anxious nature.’

‘Oh… okay.’ It was hard to know what else to say. Earlier Patton had thought he was proud of Virgil for overcoming his separation anxiety. But hearing that Virgil would perhaps never get over it sent a wave of warm comfort over Patton. He wanted to smile, but the fluffy feeling was sullied by something. Something distant that he couldn’t identify. Something unpleasant.

‘Do you know what time it is?’ Logan asked softly, spoken as if it were a love confession.

Patton instinctively reached into his pocket, only to come out empty-handed. ‘Sorry, I must have left my phone in -’

A featherlight touch at his lips made Patton fall silent: Logan’s fingertips. He could feel Logan’s pulse thrumming through them.

‘It’s later,’ Logan whispered, his eyes swimming with utter adoration. Then the soft fingertips were replaced by softer lips and Patton fell into a dream.

They floated together for a while, suspended in the short space between their hearts. After a few gentle pecks and a quick swipe of tongues, Logan pulled away.

‘That was sweet,’ Patton whispered airily, letting his eyes flutter open. Then he saw that Logan was frowning deeply at him.

‘Patton…’ Logan licked his lips and grimaced a little. He started chuckling, ‘Just how much lemon did you put in your tea?’

It wrenched Patton from his dreamy state.

Guilt. The unpleasant feeling that was sullying his emotions was guilt. Guilt because how could he think himself supportive of his family if in the face of their developments his response had been extreme jealousy? So extreme that he had had to literally suck on a lemon to pull himself out of it.

As if that weren’t awful enough, Patton had actually felt happy when he learned Virgil would continue to be distressed by his separation anxiety.  He had failed his baby, just like he had failed his little prince by neglecting him and not recognising his insecurities. He had failed at being a dad; the one thing he thought he knew. Why was he even trying to be a caregiver when he kept accidentally hurting his family?

Roman called loudly from the living room, ‘Dad?’

A switch flipped in Patton’s brain. No, he wouldn’t give up. His boys needed their dad and that had to be him. No matter how many mistakes he made, how wrong he was, Patton would never let go of the only thing in the world he could do. He would never let go of his purpose. The one thing he lived for.

He was nothing if he couldn’t be Papa Patton.

He slipped right past Logan, not caring to check his reaction to Patton’s avoidance. With a huge smile, Patton bounced into the living room. ‘What’s up, my majestic little songbird?’

It was immediately clear why Roman had called.

Where Virgil had been sitting on the blanket before they left the room, giggling and rattling Meeko excitedly, both boys now sat. Roman’s arm was thrown over Virgil’s shoulders protectively, supporting the younger boy as he swayed and blinked slowly. His eyes were decidedly teary and he was tugging at his pacifier again.

‘Oh, my sweet little baby,’ Patton cooed, rushing over to them. The storm of guilt and jealousy cleared from his mind in an instant, leaving him a little light-headed. It was replaced by a muffled determination and affection that made everything seem softer around the edges.

Dropping to his knees, Patton pulled Virgil into a hug. There was a little whimper, and then his shoulder was immediately used as a hiding spot for Virgil’s face. ‘What happened, Roman?’ Patton asked, leaning back against the foot of the armchair. He rested his hand atop Virgil’s head and felt as though his heart had started beating for the first time in hours.

‘He just froze and went super quiet all of a sudden,’ Roman explained, letting go of his brother and collapsing back onto the blanket with a pout. ‘Then he didn’t wanna play anymore.’

‘It’s all right, Roman,’ Logan said, settling onto the floor beside Roman with a reassuring pat on his knee. ‘Virgil can play with you again another time.’ He began clearing the mess of various toys on the blanket, assembling them into an ordered line.

‘Are you upset, baby?’ Patton whispered, rocking Virgil slightly in his hold.

As was to be expected, there was no answer. Virgil only hid his face against Patton more fiercely.

‘Perhaps it was the separation anxiety.’

Patton nodded faintly at Logan’s suggestion, but internally he knew that wasn’t it. In the past, if Virgil was anxious about being separated from Patton he was much more vocal in his upset; sobbing and whining loudly. Plus he certainly hadn’t heard Virgil calling out for him before Roman beckoned him in, so Patton remained doubtful that that was the issue.

Another difference became obvious as Virgil hugged Patton tighter, forcing Patton to hunch down a little to accommodate it. Where Virgil would always scramble into Patton’s lap at being reunited with him, this time he had remained on the floor with his legs pulled tightly to his chest. Patton experimentally nudged Virgil’s knees to convince him to lower them but was met with a whine and Virgil’s whole body tensed up.

As Patton shushed his baby and swayed him back and forth, he just knew. There was no solid thought process he could attribute to his realisation. He thought it must have been his paternal instincts (which sent a rush of pride through him). Though regardless of how he knew it, Patton was quite certain that Virgil’s diaper was wet.

Then Logan spoke. ‘I think I would like to -’

‘I’m handling it,’ Patton assured firmly without looking up from his baby.

There was a short while of silence before Logan spoke again. ‘I was going to say I would like to play Pooh Cards with Roman.’

Shame flooded Patton’s mind. He chased it away by rubbing soothing circles on Virgil’s back.

‘Oh yeah!’ Roman cried, jumping up from the blanket so fast Patton was surprised he didn’t fall face-first to the floor with the momentum of it. As he bounced in place he grabbed and tugged on Logan’s hands. ‘Mom, Mom, Mom, quick, come see!’

There was a slight reluctance as Logan raised to his feet. ‘I said I would play with you Roman. Please do not pull me.’

Patton rolled his eyes. Roman was merely excited, and he knew his own strength. It wasn’t like it hurt Logan. There was no reason for him to be so strict with their little prince.

‘Are you sure you two will be all right?’ Logan asked, and his voice actually wobbled.

Logan - who always kept a steady, calm voice even in moments of distress - was presumably so worried about leaving Virgil with Patton that his voice had actually wavered.

Patton had to unclench his jaw to reply, ‘Of course we will, I’m his papa.’ It came out far more snappish than he had intended. He ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair, using the soft tendrils to distract himself from the sinking feeling in his chest. ‘I mean - he’s okay. I know what this is.’ Finally meeting Logan’s gaze, Patton offered a small smile that he knew didn’t meet his eyes.

‘Okay, love,’ Logan said softly, lovingly, and Patton knew he didn’t deserve it.

Then Logan led Roman out of the room to fetch the card game and the papa and his baby were left alone.

For a minute they simply sat, Patton still swaying them gently. Going by the fact that Virgil was no longer whimpering, it was clear the cuddle was soothing him. Patton too felt himself relaxing as their bodies moved as one and their breaths synchronised.

Over the course of those few quiet moments, Patton’s worries all seemed to float away. As if Virgil were a calm breeze, clearing the muggy clouds of guilt and bitterness from Patton’s mind and replacing them with crystal clear skies. Patton nuzzled his nose into Virgil’s hair and breathed deeply, feeling as though he hadn’t tasted oxygen until that very second. There was no other feeling in the world that could compare.

‘Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have a proper cuddle.’

There was no protest as Patton shuffled both of them up into the seat of the armchair. Virgil kept a tight hold on Meeko all the while, clearly afraid of dropping the toy. Admittedly, Patton had hoped he would have an opportunity to check Virgil’s diaper during the movement, but their positions simply didn’t allow for it. As soon as they were seated with Virgil on Patton’s lap, the regressor whined and hurriedly wriggled off of his legs to squeeze into the small space between Patton and the armrest.

‘It’s okay, honey,’ Patton murmured, letting Virgil curl up to his side instead. His knees were flush with his chest once more; hiding his lap on instinct, Patton realised.

‘Dad!’ Roman yelled, skipping back into the living room with a bright smile. ‘Mom really likes my game and says I’m really clever!’

Feeling Virgil jolt at the sudden noise, Patton carded his fingers through his hair softly. ‘That’s wonderful, sweetie,’ he said, trying not to feel disheartened by the interruption to his and Virgil’s time together. ‘I think you’re very clever too.’

Roman appeared to vibrate. ‘And - and n-now Mom is gonna play with me!’

‘Well, I hope you win, little prince,’ Patton chuckled, enamoured by Roman’s sweet enthusiasm. Then he put on a loud stage-whisper, ‘Try to get the Tigger card!’

A deep gasp sounded from the doorway. ‘I heard that, Patton!’ Logan entered the room with a look of mock-offence. He held a red sippy cup in one hand and the stack of Pooh Cards in his other. ‘I cannot believe you’re conspiring against me.’

Patton giggled, twirling a lock of Virgil’s hair around his pinky. ‘I’m a supportive dad, I have to be on Roman’s side!’

‘Hm, I suppose I can concede that,’ Logan grumbled, throwing a quick smile Patton’s way. He handed Roman his sippy cup, praising him when he said, ‘Thank you’.

There was a quiet whine from Virgil and Patton rocked him a little. He was probably upset by the others being so close given his shy headspace at that moment.

‘Come here, little one,’ Logan called, moving to sit by the coffee table at the other side of the room. ‘I need you to teach me how to play.’

Roman did not react.

‘Sweetie, that’s you,’ Patton whispered, reaching out to squeeze Roman’s hand.

A blush overtook Roman as he looked over at his mom, a smile forming on his lips. ‘Me?’

‘Of course,’ Logan nodded. By the casual shuffling of the Pooh Cards in his hands, it almost appeared as if Logan didn’t recognise the gravity of calling Roman ‘little one’, though Patton knew his partner better than that. He knew that Logan must have noticed Roman’s need for coddling in the face of Virgil’s younger headspace.

Patton grinned as he watched Roman rush over, sitting as close to Logan as was physically possible.

Then he felt Virgil trying to burrow into his shoulder further and looked down. The boy’s neck was noticeably strained by the action since he had to stretch awkwardly seeing as he wasn’t in Patton’s lap like he usually was.

‘Do you wanna sit in Papa’s lap?’

A slight nod came in reply.

‘All right, on three. Ready?’ Patton secured his arms around Virgil’s back and under his diaper. ‘One, two… three!’ As he easily lifted Virgil onto his lap, he took the opportunity to subtly pat and pinch the diaper through the fabric of his onesie. Definitely wet. With a swell of satisfaction at being correct in his assumption, Patton lowered Virgil to his lap and kissed his head.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed though. Once he was sitting on Patton’s thighs, Virgil immediately whimpered and hid his face behind Meeko.

‘It’s okay, baby,’ Patton reassured, rocking him again. ‘Papa was just checking if you’re still dry.’

The explanation was met with a tiny squeak. Virgil lowered Meeko, revealing his pink cheeks and rattling the toy once more. Though he did not shake it with the same vigour he had earlier; this time Meeko was gently waved to and fro quite lazily. ‘Bababa,’ Virgil mumbled.

Apparently, the diaper check had comforted Virgil and reinforced his younger headspace. Patton sighed and held his baby closer. That was just utterly adorable.

Logan cleared his throat quite pointedly from the other side of the room, and when Patton met his eyes he mouthed silently: Is he dry?

Patton responded with a slight shake of his head. Then, strangely, he felt his lips curl into a smile. Even stranger, Logan mirrored it, and Patton was quite sure they must have been thinking the same thing:

That Virgil had had an accident again, but this time there was no sobbing. There was no hyperventilating. There was no panic attack. In fact, the only indication he had wet himself at all was the fact that he had been pushed back into his sleepy baby state, and that wasn’t a bad thing whatsoever!

Looking down at him now, it was clear to Patton that the diapers were a hugely positive change for Virgil. Despite his lethargic energy, his dimples were showing at the sides of his pacifier which bobbed lazily in his mouth. As he rattled Meeko softly, his eyes sparkled with babyish curiosity. He was calm and happy. It soothed Patton immensely.

oOo

As their time together went on, Patton and Virgil cuddled and played so much that it was impossible for Patton to wipe the cheesy grin from his face. He had rocked Virgil gently, tickled his cheek softly to watch him blush and giggle, dutifully kissed Meeko whenever Virgil held the toy up to Patton with a smile, and now…

‘Are you ready?’ Patton asked in his most exaggerated baby-talk voice. ‘Is my baby ready for more bounces?’

Virgil giggled and kicked his feet a little by Patton’s hips, facing him in his lap. Meeko was hugged tightly to his chest as he nodded.

‘Ahhhh…’ Patton started, securing his grip on Virgil’s shoulders. ‘Bouncy, bouncy baby!’ He bounced his legs on each syllable, making Virgil bob up and down in his lap with little squeals of happiness. ‘What a cute little stormcloud!’

Sweet laughter continued to tumble from behind Virgil’s pacifier. ‘Baba, g-gen!’

‘Again?’ Patton repeated, chuckling. They had been doing this for several minutes by that point, and his legs ached from the constant lifting. But who was he to deny his baby when his eyes glittered with such joy? ‘Okay. Last one, sweetie.’

There was no protest, only a squeak of anticipation. Virgil really was a sweet baby.

‘Ahhhhh… bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, bouncy baby!’

Delighted laughter escaped the pair and danced in the air surrounding both of them. Then Virgil smushed his face into Meeko and made a strangled, high-pitched sound. It was a common verbal stim when he was overwhelmed by happiness.

‘Oh my goodness,’ Patton gushed heartily, huddling Virgil closer in his lap and wrapping him in a tight hug. ‘You are the sweetest, squeakiest, most adorable little baby in the whole world.’ He emphasised his point by pressing a great number of kisses to Virgil’s cheek in quick succession.

Virgil suddenly whined quite desperately and pushed at Patton’s chest to be released from his hold. Feeling a rush of concern, Patton held Virgil at arm’s length, still supporting him but trying not to crowd him. ‘I’m sorry, was it a yucky feeling, honey?’ he asked, fearing he had set off Virgil’s sensory sensitivities.

Though Virgil still smiled and promptly held Meeko up in front of Patton’s face. 

Patton bit his tongue through a wide smile. ‘Why hello again, Meeko! Would you like some kissies too?’

‘Mnh,’ Virgil hummed insistently, rattling the toy a little.

Chuckling, Patton leaned forward and pressed a loud, ‘Mwah!’ right on Meeko’s button nose. When he pulled back, Virgil dropped Meeko to his lap and held Patton’s cheeks softly between his hands.

Patton was frozen in place. His brain simply couldn’t handle the adorableness.

‘Dad, Dad, look!’

Patton held Virgil’s hands softly to stop him from squishing his cheeks for a moment. Looking over to the coffee table, he saw that Roman was holding a full deck of Pooh Cards up to him with a triumphant smile.

‘Yay, you won again!’ Patton cheered, laughing when Virgil giggled and poked his cheeks again. ‘Well done, my clever little prince!

‘He’s a complete expert at this game,’ Logan said, stretching his back with a click. It must have been an awkward position to be sat on the floor hunched over the coffee table for so long (though exactly how long Patton wasn’t sure, he didn’t care to check the time.) ‘I don’t think I will ever be able to outsmart you at Pooh Cards, Roman.’

It was clear that Logan had purposefully let Roman win every game from the snippets of laughter and dramatic sighs Patton had heard as they played. Though Roman either hadn’t clocked it or didn’t care about it going by his extreme happiness.

‘How about we have some hunnypots and haycorns to celebrate?’ Patton suggested, knowing the cookies would have been set by then.

‘Why don’t you and Virgil go and pick them for us - only one each,’ Logan hastily added with his eyebrows raised at Patton. It was a fair point to make; as much as he and Logan didn’t care much for sweets and would be happy enough to share one cookie between them, Patton probably would have let the boys have several if that’s what they so wished. He was grateful Logan was there to be a sort of filter for his blind generosity sometimes. ‘Meanwhile, I think Roman and I may need to expel a bit of excess energy.’

By him and Roman, Logan obviously only meant the creative side, who was currently shaking and fidgeting quite energetically in his place on the carpet. It was true that a quiet card game was quite a rare activity for the hyperactive boy, as was obvious by the energy overspilling from him.

Patton nodded, holding Virgil closely against his side as he stood from the armchair. ‘Okay, let’s go pick some yummy cookies for everyone, baby!’

As Patton carried Virgil to the kitchen, he heard Logan set up the soundtrack to The Tigger Movie on the speakers. It was followed by the unmistakable sound of Roman launching to his feet and starting to jump and dance around.

‘All right, can you look up for me, Vee?’ They were stood in front of the rack of multicoloured cookies now. Virgil lifted his head from Patton’s shoulder and made a hum of interest when he saw the treats. ‘Good boy. Now you’ve got a really important job: I need you to pick some pretty cookies for everyone!’

Virgil pointed at himself with a surprise in his eyes.

‘Uh-huh,’ Patton nodded, jostling Virgil further onto his hip with one arm as he picked up a plate from the drying rack.

‘Baba,’ Virgil mumbled, and Patton looked down to see he was pointing at a cookie that had gone slightly wrong. It was originally a haycorn but as the cookies all spread in the oven it had been crowded against the corner of the baking tray, becoming misshapen and wonky. It was coated in pink icing.

‘This one?’ Patton lay the plate on the counter and picked up the cookie to hold it in front of Virgil.

‘Wub!’

‘You love it?’ Patton asked.

Virgil shook his head and pointed at it again. ‘Harp!’

‘Oh, you’re right,’ Patton smiled, looking at the cookie in a new light. ‘It does look like a heart! That means it’s a special love cookie.’

‘Beshul?’

‘Very special.’ He pressed a kiss to Virgil’s head. ‘Just like my special little baby. Do you want this one, honey?’

In response, Virgil suddenly pushed at Patton’s hand and the cookie got lodged between Patton’s teeth. He giggled in surprise, pulling the cookie back out of his mouth. ‘You want this to be Papa’s one?’

‘Wub Papa!’

Just as Patton thought there were no more harsh, icy emotions in him to thaw, he positively melted at Virgil’s innocent love confession. He smiled and placed the cookie on the plate. ‘I love you too, baby. I think me and Mama can share that one. Now do you wanna pick one for your brother?’

After some quite serious deliberation, Virgil had decided on a green haycorn for his brother and a yellow hunnypot for himself. Patton carried both his baby and the plate of haycorn cookies back to the living room. The hunnypot cookie was held in Virgil’s fingers as he suckled on the edge of it (Patton had stored his pacifier in the pocket of his cardigan, making a mental note to invest in a pacifier clip for the future). It seemed their bouncing game had tired him out once more, as Virgil’s head promptly dropped back to Patton’s shoulder once his task was complete.

‘I’m putting your cookies on the table, you two,’ Patton announced over the sound of Tigger’s theme song once they had returned to the living room. He swerved himself and Virgil around Roman as he bounced (and Logan who bounced only when Roman looked at him, then stopped once Roman looked away), careful not to bump anyone as he lay the plate on the coffee table.

Patton then settled into the middle of the couch with a sigh, letting Virgil drop to his lap again. Thankfully the music was not overly loud and Virgil seemed unbothered by it as he sucked quite lazily on his cookie.

‘Is that yummy, sweetheart?’

The soggy cookie left Virgil’s lips and was held up to Patton’s. He humoured his baby by pretending to nibble it and humming in enthusiastic approval. ‘Ooh, that’s lovely! Mm-mm, very yummy. Thank you, Vee.’

It satisfied Virgil as he smiled and continued sucking on it himself, nuzzling further into Patton’s hold.

Soon Roman had gotten tired of bouncing and Logan switched the music to set up the next chapter of their Winnie-the-Pooh audiobook, claiming that it was quiet time now.

While Logan was preoccupied, Roman had finished his cookie deftly in three bites (making Patton giggle) then he approached the couch quite shyly. ‘Dad, can I…’

‘You wanna cuddle too?’ Patton asked softly, smiling in encouragement.

The acknowledgement of Roman’s unspoken request was apparently enough permission for him and he practically jumped into the spot beside Patton.

‘Excuse me, I believe you are in my spot,’ Logan announced on his way back to the couch. As Roman made a noise of offence, Logan pulled him up from the seat to collapse into it himself.

‘Hey, I was -’ Roman started whining, but cut himself off with a yelp when Logan swiftly tugged him back down into his own lap. Roman’s cheeks flushed pink and he clammed up.

‘You were saying?’ Logan asked in a lightly teasing tone.

Patton shook his head at their silliness. It was strange that whenever the two showed affection to each other they seemed to want to set it off with jokes and teasing. Though as Patton rocked Virgil in his lap delicately, he realised it wasn’t really for him to judge how they showed affection. As long as his family was happy, he was happy. And it was clear from Virgil’s sleepy hums and Roman’s blushing cheeks bunched in a smile and Logan’s soft chuckles that his family were all perfectly happy.

His gaze dawdled a little on his partner until Logan’s eyes met his and softened, crinkling with a smile. Patton bit his lip and looked down, feeling bizarrely like a shy, lovestruck teenager.

‘Dad, can I have a kiss?’

The question threw Patton a little, not ever having heard such a blunt request for affection from Roman. It was unexpected but made Patton extremely proud of his son for being brave enough to ask.

‘Of course, little prince!’ He leaned up slightly to press a firm kiss to Roman’s cheek, noting a very light stubble there.

‘And now Vee!’ Roman immediately cried once Patton had sunk back to his seat.

Patton chuckled at Roman’s strange antics, but complied, pressing a softer kiss to Virgil’s head. The baby squeaked and buried his cheek further into Patton’s shoulder. Some gingerbread crumbs littered Patton’s cardigan, but he hardly cared.

Then Roman spoke again, ‘Now Mom!’ His voice was all childish innocence, whereas his eyes screamed pure scheming adult.

A short, surprised huff escaped Patton as he looked over to Logan. His cheeks felt warm.

‘Well,’ Logan hummed, his lips pulling into a shy, crooked smile, ‘I suppose you have kissed everyone else.’ He looked down at Patton expectedly. ‘It’s only fair, right?’

Patton thought his face would split in two with how he beamed with a smile. No more hiding, no more sneaking around. Not needing to be told twice, he pushed forward, thankful that Logan leaned down to meet him in a quick kiss. It was entirely chaste, lasting a fraction of the time all of their previous kisses had done, but it lingered in Logan’s blush and Patton’s smile as they pulled back from each other.

The look of absolute calm in Logan’s eyes instilled such an overwhelming feeling of content in him that Patton had to take a slow, measured breath. Everything is going to be all right, Logan’s eyes seemed to whisper. I love you and I believe in you, I believe in us, and I believe in our family. We’re all going to be all right.

And Patton believed that. He knew things weren’t perfect, that they might never be. That Roman would not overcome his insecurities overnight, that Logan was still struggling to balance sternness and playfulness, that Virgil still struggled with asking for help and that they would have to deal with the repercussions of Virgil coming out of this new headspace likely confused. Reluctantly, Paton also acknowledged that there might have been something to his own caregiver headspace that was less than ideal if his jealousy and clinginess earlier were anything to go by.

Still, in that exact moment, everything was fine. They weren’t going anywhere. They would continue to be a family no matter what. They had plenty of time to address these difficult things. Presently, Patton just wanted to appreciate the rest of the evening in peace.

‘Is everyone ready?’ Logan asked, holding his phone up to show that the audiobook was ready to play.

Virgil breathed deeply, still sucking his cookie. Roman nodded and scurried back in Logan’s lap to lean back against him.

When Logan’s questioning gaze turned to him, Patton simply nodded and shuffled on the couch to rest his head on Logan’s shoulder. ‘Ready.’

A gentle kiss from Logan pressed to his head and Patton held Virgil closer with one arm while reaching to hold Roman’s hand with the other. He knew now that the perfect family wasn’t possible. Though being surrounded by the three people he held dear in his heart, Patton also knew that this was the closest anyone could get.

‘Chapter Ten, in which Christopher Robin gives a Pooh Party, and we say good-bye…’ 

⤛ The End ⤜

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

AO3 link | Bonus chapter

[rachey899]

Moon (GT)

New characters, new story, don’t know if there will be more but please tell me what you think, maybe I will continue with it. 

Short story of Moon and Emmerich here: That’s something you don’t see everyday 

Word Count: 4305

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

“You’re a waste of space”

“Why don’t you just run away freak”

“Did you honestly think you would make any friends”

The laughter echoed off the walls of the library at the latest school that my mother had enrolled me in. For the longest time I can remember we have bounced around school and towns, mum struggles to keep a job and I struggle to blend in and so we are constantly on the move.

Travelling to a new town was always my favorite part of our ritual, I would usually be sitting in my room crying after the latest torment of bullies from school and mum would burst in the door with a glint in her eye.

“Flowers give me the most wicked hay fever, how about we beat it?” her last job had been at a florist, she spoke for days about her wonderful flower arrangements she had come up with, usually they were very abstract and apparently the owner did not approve. It didn’t matter what the excuse was, the job didn’t fit, the school wasn’t right for me, so we beat it. On a continuous loop of fresh starts, yet they all seemed to play out the same.

Once in the car we would laugh and play a game called ‘drop the pin’ we laid out a map and let a pin drop onto it and wherever it landed was where we would go next, didn’t matter how far away it was or how outrageous it was, that’s where we would go. And then we spent hours singing loudly in the car just enjoying each other’s company. We would talk about everything and nothing or sit peacefully in silence.

And so when I came home from school today I sat in my room with my notebook and charcoal pencil and began to scribble the pain away. Mum had a new job as a beauty stylist for dogs, yes it’s as random and amazing as it sounds, and my new school was the same as it always was, the whispers and judgments, no one ever spoke to me, they would take one look at me and decide I was not normal, I didn’t fit in or I didn’t belong.

My choice in clothes was seen as ratty, I saw it as creative. I make all my own clothes from bits and pieces I find at secondhand shops, mum taught me how to sew and make clothing and it immediately become my creative release. Something I could make for myself that was so uniquely me.

“Your so very talented Moon” my mother would say.

My name was another reason people tended to think I was a freak, Moon wasn’t a very common name and maybe it seemed kind of witchy to people or just too out there. I loved my name, I was born during a full moon and my mother had said the moon spoke to her that night and told her that I was destined for magical things and so she couldn’t find a better suited name for me other then Moon. My mother always had a way of making the smallest things seem incredible and full of adventure.

I looked down at my notebook, I had drawn a troll with a large nose and covered in warts, this troll also had long curly hair and way too much lipstick, it reminded me of a particularly nasty girl at my new school. I titled it Natalie as the drawing definitely suited her and then I slapped the book closed as if giving her a slap in the face.

I huffed loudly and laid back on my bed staring at the ceiling and waiting impatiently for my mother to come home.

As if I on cue, the door swung open, and my mother popped her head in with a smile on her face. Her deep red hair curled and bounced around her face and shoulders, giving her the look of a mad scientist’s wife, but it suited her so well.

“I’ve discovered that dogs in this industry tend to be just as pompous as their owners” she stated and laid down beside me.

“Is that so” I said hiding the smile in my tone “groomed one too many poodles?” I asked her and giggled.

She rolled her eyes “Yep, let’s beat it kid” she sat up and left the room. I could hear her digging around in her suitcase, we had been here for about 3 weeks and hadn’t unpacked, we never did.

She came back into the room and laid out a large map on the carpet and sat cross legged in front of it.

“Care to do the honors?” she asked with a wink holding out a pink pin for me.

As was custom I sat beside her and we held hands and closed our eyes, with my free hand holding the pin in a fist, I silently prayed for a fresh start and acceptance, I dropped the pin. When we opened our eyes, we had a new destination set for us.

Jaeville was across the border into giant territory, we had once landed close to the border where more giants were frequent in the town, but we had never crossed the border before. Of course, giants and humans live all over the country nowadays, but the border still stands and its common knowledge that you will find more of a particular species on the appropriate side of the border. More humans on the human side and more giants on the giant side.

Of course, I had seen giants before, gone to school with them but just like everyone else even they tended to think I was weird and kept their distance from me

My mother smiled at me “Well this will be very interesting”, I laughed at her “What kind of work do you even think you’ll be able to get there? I can just picture you trying to serve a giant a cup of coffee”.

“Sounds like a challenge I’m willing to except, plus I kinda like the idea of being a tiny assistant for a big-time banker” she winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.

We packed the car that afternoon and were on the road almost immediately, we often stayed in cheap motels that mum would pay for day by day in case we wanted to leave with little notice. We stopped by a MacDonald’s and had a greasy dinner and then pumped Bon Jovi singing at the top of our lungs to ‘It’s my life’.

We drove through the night until morning, I stayed up with her, I always thought it was unfair that I got to sleep while she had to drive, so we often played number plate games or eye spy to keep each other entertained. This year I would get my license so that we could finally share the driving, or so I hoped.

It was 4:30 in the morning when we began to notice the change in the scenery, the trees became taller, the road became wider and instead of rows of human houses and a few scattered giant ones, there were rows of positively ginormous houses and only a few human sized ones. We noticed a patch of daffodils a way up the road and as we pulled up to them, they grew in size and towered over our car.

We stared at the magnificent plants for a while and then got out of the car, we walked up to the stalk of one daffodil and stared up in awe. Mum shook her head snapping out of the trance and smiled at me, without a word she grabbed my arms and began to spin and dance in and around the bases of the flowers.

When we grew out of puff, we collapsed beneath the flowers our crazy hair splayed around us, my multicolored rainbow hair mixing with her deep red and we just watched the sky grow lighter and lighter.

“Now we are ready for Jaeville” mum said still staring at the sky above us.

I only smiled in response, I definitely felt ready, the daffodil dance inspired me and made me feel like I belonged to the environment around me even if it was dramatically out of my proportions. Mum always had a way of making things particularly special.

We drove for another hour or so until we came across a large building with a sign high above us that read ‘Jaeville motel – Giant and Human accommodation available 24/7’. Mum pulled into the directed human car park, and we sat in the car in silence for a moment.

“Ready Moon?” she asked.

“Ready” I said.

We got out of the car and collected our suitcases from the boot and followed the white outlined human path into the motel, through the human entrance we took an elevator up to reception that came out on the front desk with some chairs and a bell line dup against the wall to wait for reception staff.

Mum rang the bell and a few seconds later we could feel the footfalls of a giant approaching the desk. A young giantess approached us with a gentle smile on her face, she looked to be only a few years older than me, maybe in her early twenties.

“Welcome to Jaeville, how can I help you?” she asked politely, she looked at us politely and paused on me for a moment too long “Oh my, your hair is…. Interesting” she said with a nervous laugh.

My hair was naturally a deep red like my mother’s, but when I was a child she noticed I would develop lighter and darker streaks, she said it made my hair look like a rainbow when the sun shone on it. So naturally I decided to make it that way, I dyed my hair all colours of the rainbow and worked really hard to maintain it. No one else but me and my mother appreciated it and I guess that’s why I kept it that way, even if I was judged for it by others, it was another special reminder of my relationship with my mother.

“We would like a room for two please, I’m not sure how long we will be staying, can I pay by the day?” mum skipped over her comment about my hair and was straight to business, I think she just wanted to get to the room, have a much-needed shower and sleep the day away. Me too.

“Of course,” said the giantess, she went over the details with my mother and handed her a key, we were directed to go up the elevator to the 2nd floor and follow the human path to room 39.

We discovered upon exiting the elevator that the human path was an elevated platform with railings that stretched above the doorways of the giants’ rooms with the human rooms located above the giant ones. I guess that avoids any unwanted accidents. Of course, looking down there was also the same white markings of a human path on the floor far below, I guess we could use it if we wanted to, but I would be nervous someone might not see me way down there.

“Well my sweet Moon, I’m going to get some shut eye for a few hours, then how about you and me explore the town a little and find a nice place for dinner, yeah?” mum had already claimed the twin bed closest to the window and dumped her suitcase beside it, she gave me a squeeze and twirled her finger through my curly crazy rainbow hair and then kissed me gently on the forehead before closing the bedroom door.

I thought about going to sleep but thinking about our dance with the daffodils made me feel energized, I wanted to explore, now. I left mum a note in case she woke up and took the key with me and headed back down the hall, my first plan was to explore the motel.

First, I wandered the human platform and found it to be pretty boring, it only led to more rooms that were seemingly empty beside a couple that were staying in a room two doors from us in number 41 who were arguing loudly. I retraced my steps to the elevator and went up floor by floor and found the elevator only ever took me to more human platforms that lead to more rooms. Very uninteresting.

Finally, I made it up to the top floor which opened up into a very large room where there were no human platforms, I was at floor level with any giants who may be wondering around. But there were none. There was a breeze that blew through my hair, and I noticed that the far end of the room was open, no window no doors just open into the air, the rest of the room was filled with small gardens, flowers, fruit, and vegetables scattered around the room with a few trees here and there and benches appropriately sized for humans as well as giants littered about as well.

This must have been the roof of the motel and they definitely took advantage of the space, it was quiet and still, open, and free and the scent and moisture in the air from the plants around me calmed me to my core. As I wondered around, I came across a lemon tree that was relatively skinny for a giant-sized tree and decided it was bendy and twisted enough for me to climb. And so, I did.

I made it to the top of the tree where it was covered in leaves and fresh lemons ripe enough to pick and found a groove in the branches that was comfortable enough to sit in. I pulled out a book from my colorful patchy shoulder bag and began to read quietly, embracing the peacefulness of the space.

I didn’t even realize that I had fallen asleep until a loud honk suddenly woke me up, I flinched and sat up too quickly and lost my footing, I began to fall.

The beautiful garden room rushed by me as I prepared myself for the harsh impact with the floor that would surely significantly injure me if I was lucky or kill me if I was not. But it never came, instead I fell on a kind of fabric that bounced slightly underneath me as I landed on it.

Carefully I got my knees trying to figure out exactly how I managed to survive, the surface beneath me was blue and rough but warm and gave a little as I pressed my hands and knees into it.

“Woah” a voice somewhere above me seemed to echo around me, immediately I stood up but lost balance on the weird surface and fell back on my butt looking up at a giant boy with striking green eyes and crazy ginger hair staring down at me with his mouth hung open in shock. He had both hands in the air almost in surrender, or surprise, one held a golden trumpet, the reason I suspected for my rude awakening and the other just hanging in the sky.

We stared at each other for a long time in shock, unsure of what to do or how to even get down from the boys jean clad lap I discovered I had landed on. Hey at least I was alive.

“I’m sorry!” he finally blurted, he quickly placed his trumpet down on the wooden bench beside him and then his hands descended on me. I backtracked, quickly sliding myself further and further away from his oncoming hands, it probably should have occurred to me that knees come to an end.

“Watch out!” he shouted as my hands touched air behind me and I fell backwards, plummeting yet again, this time a warm and very unfamiliar surface caught me and I was immediately halted in my descent and instead raised upwards closer to his face.

I rested in the center of his two cupped hands, it was warm and slightly humid, leathery, it was such an alien feeling. My heart started to pound the closer I got to his face, he watched me with the same kind of astonishment and fear perhaps, or maybe it was concern, I couldn’t be sure.

“L-let me go!” I stuttered, I had finally found my voice, there was nowhere I could go I was stranded in his hands held who knows how high off the ground.

“Right, right, I’m sorry” he said, he had an English accent I noticed.

His hand descended and I was lowered to the ground at his feet, maybe I didn’t think this through. He laid his hand out flat on the ground and I immediately jumped off, I wanted to kiss the ground but decided to hold off on that extreme gesture.

I looked back up at the giant, deciding to avoid staring at his black Van covered feet, his face was now so far away, and his body seemed to stretch for miles, I had seen giants before, even interacted with them from the safety of human railings, but I had never ever been this close before.

He seemed to sense my nervousness and stood up. Not helping giant! Though he then immediately sat down on the ground cross legged in front of me as if that might put me at ease if he wasn’t so obviously tall. I just stood there watching him cautiously, I shouldn’t be so scared, giants are people just like humans, but just much larger. 

I fell on him, really, I should probably be the one apologizing.

He broke the staring contest by reaching for something on the wooden bench he had been sitting on, oh god not that trumpet again, but he didn’t pick up the trumpet, instead he held something positively miniscule between his thumb and forefinger, I realized what it was straight away.

“Um I believe this is yours” he said holding it out in front of me, I reached towards his fingers and plucked my book out of his grasp.

“Oh, um thank you…. Giant?” oh I’m so stupid, obviously his name is not giant, great job Moon, you’ve probably offended him.

He laughed, a low thundering sound that I could feel in my chest, it felt... strange.

“My name is Emmerich and it’s no problem, I’m sorry if I startled you, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in here let alone hiding in a tree” he smiled softly at me, and I could see the freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks.

I blushed from embarrassment, why would I call him giant, maybe I really am a freak, no social etiquette whatsoever, he must think I’m so rude. Introduce yourself, that’s the next thing to do, or maybe that might make things worse, though Emmerich isn’t really a common name either.

“Moon” I blurted, oh inward face palm “My name is Moon” good start moron.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted you, I must have drifted off in the tree, um I didn’t mean to fall on you…. twice” I laughed nervously and scratched the back of my neck, maybe I should leave him in peace now.

“Yeah we uh don’t get many human guests here and I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen any humans wonder in here before, I guess because this room has no safety railings, I didn’t even think to look around, I truly am sorry, I assumed I was alone” his eyebrows scrunched in concern and he leaned down closer to me “Are you alright, that must have been pretty frightening”.

Without thought I took a step back away from his face, the closeness overwhelming me, I nodded my head in acknowledgment of the seemingly empty room and at my wellbeing, I really was fine, just a bit shaken.

He pulled away again giving me space, his eyes scanned over me and his lips twitched up in a small smile “Moon is a very unique name kind of like your hair” he extended a finger towards my head and I took several steps back.

“Sorry” he said again and clasped his hands together in his lap as if to restrain his fingers from reaching for me.

“I’m not a very social person, forgive me for being so intrusive” he looked down at his lap, he resembled a shameful puppy.

“No your fine, I’m still a little jumpy I guess, I’m not particularly social either” I hesitated for a moment “Um well I can go if you wanted to continue playing your trumpet, sorry again for disrupting you” I turned to leave.

“You don’t have to go, I mean” he paused “Obviously you can go if you want to, but I um wouldn’t mind the company, we don’t generally get kids my age staying here, usually it’s just old, retired travelers” I turned to look at him, his striking green eyes seemed hopeful for companionship.

“I guess I could hang around for a while” I said making up my mind, perhaps I would make a friend for once, so far, he hasn’t been unkind or judgmental of me, he didn’t even seem that concerned about my name or hair colour, maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe I was putting in too much hope.

“Okay, brilliant” he says smiling, he places his hands on the ground either side of me “I’m just going to lay on my stomach, then you wont strain your neck” he explains.

I watch as he slowly lowers himself down and crosses his arms under his chin, he is a few feet away from me but still feels extremely close, or maybe he just looks magnified. I can see every freckle on his face, I can see the slight anxious blush in his cheeks and the light and dark hues of green in his eyes, his curly red hair hangs around his face in bouncy little spirals. Everything is just so…. Big.

To stop myself staring too much I sit down in the grass and cross my legs, I pick at a few strands of grass and fiddle with them in my lap.

“So how long have you lived here for?” I ask wanting to break the silence.

“Me and my Dad moved here when I was six, Dad’s dream was to run a bed and breakfast so he bought this motel, we have made some improvements but it’s still a long way from the cozy bed and breakfast he really wants” looking around this room in particular you can tell that a lot of love and time has already been put into making the place feel homey.

“What about you, what brings you to Jaeville?” he asks bringing my attention back to him.

“Mum and me kind of just bounce around the country, mum picks up jobs where she can but we are sort of just going wherever the wind takes us I guess, it’s nice” I fiddle with my long patch work skirt and busy myself with fraying the hem, I would fix it later, this skirt in particular was a favorite of mine and has been fixed and modified many times, its due for another touch up.

“That seems kind of lonely, do you keep in touch with friends?” he looked sort of sympathetic like he pitied the lifestyle my mother and me had chosen.

“Don’t really have any, my mother and I are really close, I don’t feel very lonely, at least not often I guess” I began to mumble, maybe I was lonely, I never seemed to fit in no matter where I went. And when mum was at work I would sit alone, drawing in my notebook and dwelling on the hurtful things people say about me every day. It does sound kind of lonely.

He seemed to pick up on my feelings, he looked so sad for me but there also shone an understanding in those eyes as well “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you, I don’t have a lot of friends either. Perhaps we should change to a lighter subject, I did notice you were reading, what is it about?” he smiled reassuringly.

I pulled out my book and sat it in my lap “For the 3rd time I’m reading ‘Graceling by Kristin Cashore’” I said proudly, it really was a wonderful story and one of my favorites.

His eyes widened “I love that book, I’ve read it twice so far myself” he smiled again, he seems to do that a lot.

“Perhaps you could read it out loud? I didn’t bring my copy with me, but if that’s too we-“

“Emmerich! Room 26 needs fresh towels! Could you see if we have any clean pressed ones ready!?” a loud shout filled the room coming from the giants’ entrance to the roof, I couldn’t see the man who had spoken as we were a fair way into the room, but his deep voice shook the very foundations.

“Sorry Moon, I’ve got to go, perhaps another time and I’ll bring my book too, are you staying here long?” he lifted himself up into a crouch ready to go.

“At least a few weeks” I said quickly.

“Great I’ll see you around then” and just like that he stood and ran off shaking the ground beneath him.

I walked back towards the elevator with my head reeling, what a day. First, we arrive across the border into giant territory, dance around giant daffodils, I climb a humongous lemon tree only to fall into a giant’s lap, then fall off the giant’s lap, said giant saved my life twice and I may or may not have made my first ever friend. Definitely not a normal day for Moon.

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

It’s time, the final chapter is here 

*Sobbing*

I won’t get too sappy on you guys here, since I got pretty sappy at the end of thing on Wattpad

But yeah. Thanks if you’ve been reading this long. I have more plans for this world (i have some plans for a few oneshots) but for this moment, we are closing out this story

If you’re looking for the rest of the story, it can be found on my wattpad @ohwowhatethis, under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog, or under the cut on my pinned post

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed, just for this story or as a whole): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percabetn @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e

Chapter 8:

Word count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, cassi-ass being an ass, destruction, fire, chaos, etc.

Three months of planning later, servants scurried around the property in preparation for the ceremony the next day. A glass dome had been built in the center of the property to house it.

Tam and Linh had arrived soon after they had their first meeting, luckily Tam and Fitz weren’t as lovey-dovey in real life as they were in their letters. However, Marella and Linh very much made up for it. The moment they met the guard and the princess had a connection, the sweet talk was almost too much to bear.  

In fact, all of them had grown quite close over the past months. Who knew low-level treason could bring people together so. 

Of course, not nearly as close as he’d like with a certain person, but closer for sure. Every week they met back up at the library to work out bumps in their plan, clean up the absurd amount of paper Keefe used in drawing out his first plan, or just sit and talk. Today would be their last before the big day. 

Keefe watched over Dex’s shoulder as he made his final tinkers on the device he had been working on.  

“How’s it looking Techmaster?”

“Eh, having more metal makes everything easier but...it’s one use only, so I can’t test it. We just have to hope for the best.”

“Well, I have faith in you. Your genius brain could make anything.”

Dex rolled his eyes. Keefe wanted to subtly touch him to see if his blatant flirting had been noticed, but it felt wrong to. He had been stuck in the dark for the last 3 months. 

Everyone else ran their lines around the room. Everyone besides Sophie who, as typical of her, looked half way sick in the corner. 

Keefe sat down next to her on the floor.

“Alright, what’s up Foster, have you acquired a stomach bug?” 

She giggled. “No...it’s just…” She sighed. “It feels wrong, y’know? I mean...I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“You’re really doing the opposite of hurting people though, I mean you’re making them happy.”

“Not happy, hysterical. Yeah it can be happy, but not in the way we’re doing it. Trust me, it’s not fun to watch.”

Keefe thought for a moment.

“Hey...your parents have that griffin, right?”

~*~

The sound of a wedding march echoed through the castle lawn as Sophie was led down the isle by her father. Keefe guessed she looked quite lovely in her dress, Biana, who stood as her maid of honor, was looking at her more like a husband would than him. He stood frozen at the alter, Fitz beside him as his best man and everyone else interspersed within the crowd for optimal dramatic effect. 

Sophie reached him at long last. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look sickly this time. Her face steeled with determination gave him confidence. 

The guy marrying them together was one of Cassius’ officials. Keefe didn’t bother to remember most names anymore, but this one was a...Moland? Noland? Something like that. 

Everyone winced in unison as the man started talking, Keefe’s ears began to ring a bit at the volume.

“Lords and Ladies, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of our young Prince Keefe Sencen and the lovely Miss Sophie Foster-Ruewen.”

Keefe only realized he was fidgeting when Fitz subtly reached out and held his hand down from where it had been tapping on his leg.

“We are honored to be joined by so many friends and family. The Goom and Bride are overjoyed you all could be here to participate in this most important occasion.

“There are few greater joys in life than finding someone we truly connect with. Creatives have many names for this, a spark, clicking, but let us say today what it truly is: love.”

Keefe looked out into the crowd, he caught the eye of Dex. The redhead’s brow was crinkled and his cheeks flushed slightly. He pat the pocket of his coat in confirmation. 

“Love is what these two young souls have found in each other. In love, our truest selves are revealed. We open ourselves up and break down our walls. The veil we present to the public is lifted so we can be loved for who we are, not who we pretend to be.”

Keefe struggled to not roll his eyes. He took a final look around the room, each person nodding as he met eyes with them.

“Over these months, our Bride and Groom have developed a strong bond. This bond will only get stronger throughout the course of their marriage. Let us revel in the joy and love displayed in front of us today. May we treasure these memories as Prince Keefe and Miss Sophie get set to begin their new life together.”

Keefe took a deep breath, knowing the next words out of his mouth.

“If anyone has cause to object the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

3, 2, 1…

“I object!” 

0.

Stina first. “This marriage was meant to be mine! She’s just a dirty commoner!”

“How dare you!” Fitz cut in before anyone else could. “I object because I love her! Sophie is meant to be with me. Maruca has admitted her love to Keefe, let her marry him!”

Biana gasped dramatically. “Maruca you snake! You knew I loved him.”

“You only loved his title!” She screamed, standing up to match the rest. “And Fitz, if you’re so concerned with what Stina has to say about Sophie, you should hear what Wylie has to say.”

Fitz walked in Wylie’s direction and he stood. “Why you little-”

Just then, Keefe heard it. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

BOOM.

An explosion burst a small part of the glass dome’s ceiling. Sophie let out an ear-splitting whistle and the griffin flew straight through the hole as the glass fell. Screams erupted through the room as the animal landed on chairs and destroyed the alter. 

The screams only got louder as the room was lit up as bright as the sun before swiftly being plunged into darkness. Those involved in the plan used the opportunity to gather themselves at the exit. With the exception of Biana and Marella who, if all went as planned, stood prepared by the very flammable reception tables. 

The darkness lifted and people quickly ran out, some of the more stuck up nobles guided by guards. Once everyone was out safely, Keefe watched as a red glow started and grew. Marella wasn’t visible, but anyone paying attention could see the two sets of footprints forming in the grass.

People ran farther from the dome swiftly filling with fire. It spread quickly, but before it could reach the outside, Linh yelled. 

“Everyone back up!”

She pulled water from a nearby pond, making a large wave that, while it put out the fires, crushed the dome in its entirety. 

~*~

Two hours later, the guests sat huddled in the ballroom of the castle, many wrapped in blankets and eating soup the kitchen served to recover from what they had been through. Through the window, Keefe saw the Ruewen parents attempting to calm their griffin after taking a long time to wrangle it. 

They were good at keeping secrets, they brought the animal here in the first place. 

Just as he started crossing the room to go talk to Dex, he felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder.

Cassius looked at him with a glare that could kill ten men. He wordlessly guided Keefe in the direction of his office and the prince obliged. 

When Keefe walked in the door, it was messier than he had ever seen it. Even his father himself was disheveled, his typically slick-backed hair uncharacteristically sloppy and his tunic smudged with soot. He sat down at his desk and heaved a sigh.  

“Do you know why I brought you in here?” 

“Because my wedding was destroyed?”

“Because we are going to plan a new one. I need you to collect everyone who had objections to get this idiotic drama cleared for the records. I’ve sent for Councillor Bronte, he can officiate you. You will have a wedding today, whether you get the ceremony or not.”

“One problem with that, Biana and Marella haven’t been found.”

Technically the truth. They were to hide in the Queen’s Gardens until further notice, but the Guard Force didn’t know that. 

Cassius was silent for a moment, his face hidden in his hands.

Then he started convulsing.

No, not convulsing.

Laughing.

“Of course!” He got up from his chair in one movement. “Of course they haven’t been found! Why am I even surprised anymore.” He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing ever goes right!” He spoke through his teeth as he pushed everything off of his desk.

“MY MARRIAGE” He cleared a bookshelf with one arm, dumping the junk to the ground. 

“MY LEADERSHIP!” He knocked over his chair.

“MY SON!” He grabbed the painting from the wall and threw it down. 

“ALL DISAPPOINTMENTS!” He pushed over his desk, it landed with a loud crash.

“And now this too? Nothing ever goes right! No matter how hard I try! No matter how much work I put in! Everything ends in failure!”

“It’s a good thing this was my wedding and not yours then.”

The door behind them opened without a knock. 

“King Cassius, is this a bad time?” Bronte looked at the office with contempt. 

“No, now works.”

Despite not being formally invited in, Bronte sat down on the overturned desk and pulled out a folder of paperwork. 

“So...we’re trying to do an emergency wedding, yes?”

Cassius nodded.

“And from my understanding, there were 1,2...4 objections that haven’t been cleared?”

Cassius nodded again.

“Then I’m afraid I can’t perform a wedding. Legally or morally considering the fact that fate itself seems against this union. It is traditional, when a wedding goes so badly, to accept that something in the universe is not accepting of the marriage and call it off.”

“I understand, Councillor. However, I am the goddamned king and you will do as I say!

Bronte was unfazed.

“Actually sir, with only a month until the coronation you have resigned some of your duties, as is customary. You don’t have full control over the law at the moment, you signed a contract.”

He pulled said contract out of his pocket, displaying the signature, before putting it back in.

“Prince Keefe and you now have split control, as you had when you had a spouse. You both must agree if you are to override a law.”

Cassius hid his face once again.

“Go. Get out of my sight.”

Keefe turned to leave but his father grabbed him.

“Just Bronte.”

The man shrugged and closed the door behind him.

“Keefe...do you know why I was so eager to get you in as king?”

Keefe said nothing. That was one thing he couldn’t figure out himself. 

“I am a shitty, shitty, king. I was never made to rule. Your mother? Yes. Yes she was. Me? No. Not at all. I thought I could do this job, I thought it would be cushy, I thought I’d have all the power in the kingdom as well as riches upon riches without having to work. I was wrong.

“I wanted to train you to do this better than I ever could. I wanted to make sure you were going to be prepared.”

“No.” Keefe’s eyes started to water in anger. “You wanted to train me up to take your job as soon as possible. You didn’t want the responsibility so you decided to hand it off to your child. It’s just like...it’s just like Mom. You were the judge and the jury but you were too much of a coward to be the executioner or even a mourner. You hand off all your problems for someone else to deal with. You’re a fucking coward and nothing else.”

“I cared Keefe!-”

“NO YOU DIDN’T.” Tears streamed down his face. “You never cared about me, you never cared about Mom, you never cared for anything or anybody but yourself. 

“I don’t love Sophie and I never will, but you tried to make me marry her because you loved the idea of the strong son with a quiet woman. That shows how much you care.”

“It was what I thought was best.”

“WELL YOU WERE WRONG.”

Keefe walked out and slammed the door. 

~*~

Keefe went to his room and sobbed. He rarely indulged himself in crying but today was one of the days he let himself. It was maybe an hour later, when he was out of tears and just laid staring up at his ceiling, that he heard a knock on the door.

When he opened it, no one stood there. Just a small note in scratchy handwriting. 

“Meet us at the library, midnight”

~*~

Keefe carefully sneaked through the castle halls, only the candle he held lit his way. He slowly cracked open the library door.

“SURPRISE!”

Suddenly a whole group of people attacked him in a hug, rainbow lights filled the normally dull room. 

“W-what is all this?”

“It’s a surprise party silly!” For the first time since he’d seen her, Sophie looked truly happy. “We don’t have to get married! And we got out of it without any serious injuries.”

Fitz pulled him over to a table. “C’mon, Bi stole some leftover cake no one ate from the kitchens.”

He looked around for Dex hoping to see his beaming smile and instead saw him sitting solemnly in the corner. He didn’t look Keefe’s way. 

“Hey Fee, are you okay?” Apparently Fitz just now noticed his still puffy face.

“Yeah um...just my dad being a jerk again. Don’t worry about it.”

Fitz shrugged it off, he knew about jerky dads.

Or he used to, anyway. That bastard Alden ran away a long time ago. 

Keefe tried to partake in the festivities but he found it hard. He was going to be king in a month, and hopefully a good one at that. Just about anything was better than Cassius. He should be celebrating right now. But...there was still something bothering him. 

It was approaching the wee hours of the morning as people slowly trickled out. Wylie had long since dropped the rainbow lights. They had been celebrating for hours, Dex was silent nearly the whole time. 

“Alright.” Fitz said through a yawn. “I’m tapping out. Night Fee. Last one standing has to clean everything up.”

Keefe nodded. When he finally left the room and they were all alone, he approached Dex. Still silent in the corner.

“Okay, what’s going on Techmaster? You seem down.”

“No it’s just...it’s hard to explain.”

“Take your time, if you’d like.” Keefe sat down criss cross in front of him.

His lips went pouty in a way that made Keefe realize he was staring at his lips.

“You’ll think I’m weird. And clingy. And jealous. Honestly I shouldn’t even be saying any of this right now but I make bad decisions at 3 A.M. I guess.”

“Hey, you can tell me anything.” Keefe started to reach his hand out to Dex before remembering he shouldn’t read his emotions. Dex grabbed it before he could pull away. A lot of sadness and hurt there. He quickly stopped reading, though their hands stayed locked. 

“It’s just...there’s this person. This guy. And...and I thought maybe he liked me but now I think he has a boyfriend. I’m not sure though.”

Keefe’s heart dropped. “Well...boyfriend status can be changed.”

Dex chuckled. “I don’t know, they have nicknames for each other and everything.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Looks serious.”

It was silent for a moment, then Dex spoke.

“Look...don’t worry about it, alright? It’s really no big deal. I’ll get over it, I guess.”

“Maybe he likes you back.”

“I highly doubt it. I’m...I’m not good enough for him. I’m just a servant. He deserves someone better.”

“Why does being a servant mean you’re bad? I’ve met some nobles that are real assholes. You’re way better than all of those fuckers.”

Dex laughed again, wow Keefe could listen to that forever. 

Dex sighed. “You know what? Screw it.”

He seemed to steel himself before saying his next sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

“Are you dating Fitz?”

“What?” Keefe laughed awkwardly. “No, no, no. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh. Then...who were you talking about at the gardens? I- I thought it was Fitz and you guys got together and-”

“No, goodness no. Fitz is great and all but...well he’s just not my type. And he’s been dating Tam for a while now.”

“Oh I uh...I didn’t notice.” Dex’s face flushed furiously. “Who were you talking about then?”

Keefe met his eyes. “Depends, who were you talking about?”

He didn’t answer but his silence spoke more than any words could.

Keefe scooted closer and cupped Dex’s face in his hand. He looked into the boys periwinkle eyes.

“Dex, can I kiss you?”

“Please?”

And they did.

When Keefe heard descriptions of kissing the same gender, they always said that it felt wrong somehow. But this...this only felt right. Like he had been waiting his whole life for the moment when he met the gardener boy’s cracked lips. They weren’t soft, and the kiss was a bit awkward, but it just felt...correct. Keefe chased the kiss slightly when they finally had to pull away. 

A shy smile spread across Dex’s face.

Keefe leaned back in.

~*~

Keefe walked out onto the newly-built stage in front of the castle and looked upon his people. His ceremonial robe was itchy and too large for him.

Cassius was no where to be seen. He had just...run away. The day of the wedding was the day he broke. The kingdom had been sovereignless for the last month, coronations couldn't be rushed. 

Typically the previous king would place the crown upon the head of the new ruler. Because Cassius seemed to run away in the night with nothing more than a clump of riches, Keefe got to choose who would crown him. 

“Friends and subjects of the Kingdom of Eternalia,” Oralie started. “Today, we crown a new ruler. A ruler to put the people first. A ruler who will not sleep until every one of his people is fed. A ruler to unite us.”

Keefe never realized how long winded Oralie was. Looking into the crowd, he spotted Sophie. She wore a sour expression.

Sophie never was a fan of Oralie, she wouldn’t tell him why. 

“Prince Keefe has shown a care for his people deeper than any king before him.”

She could say that again. Keefe found Dex in the crowd, absolutely beaming.

“In the time I have had the honor of teaching him in my lessons, he has shown a willingness to learn. An ability to adapt. And a knowledge of the system as well as its successes and failures deeper than anyone else his age.

And yes, it is truly a shame that a king must be crowned this young, but I have no doubt that in time he will do right by our great kingdom.”

Oralie walked over to him, her pink flowy dress trailing behind her. She picked up the ceremonial crown off the pillow that a servant was holding.

“Prince Keefe of Eternalia, do you promise to uphold the law and do what is right for your people to the best of you abilities?”

“I do.”

“And do you promise to preserve the honor of our nation?”

“I do.”

A loud voice came from the crowd.

“AND DO YOU PROMISE TO NOT LET CASSI-ASS BACK INTO THE THRONE ROOM?” Keefe could tell it was Marella, but no one else had to know that.

He cracked a smile. “I do.”

Oralie chuckled too.

“In that case, Keefe Sencen of Eternalia, with this crown I deem you King of Eternalia. May you have a long and peaceful reign.”

The heavy crown was placed upon his head. The crowd cheered and chanted, his friends yelled the loudest. Keefe saw as Fitz lifted Biana on his shoulders, they all hugged and screamed excitedly. 

Who he noticed most of all was Dex. His bright smile in that moment was worth everything he’d been through. 

Maybe he had found someone he didn’t mind being with.

~*~

Like most days, it was a somewhat quiet day at the castle. 

Keefe looked up from his painting to study the gardens, once called the Queen’s Gardens, but that was ages ago. The wall that once surrounded the beautiful landscape was knocked down a very long time ago. 

Keefe smiled as he spotted Dex tending to some ivy that had grown on one of the ancient statues. Even being a king couldn’t keep his husband from assisting the gardeners. 

Tomorrow, some old friends were visiting. That in itself wasn’t particularly special, as they visited at least twice a year (usually more), but tomorrow was special because it was the anniversary of the Great Wedding Destruction as historians had come to call it. 

How many years had it been? 300? 400? One tends to forget. 

After 50 years or so, they admitted to planning the whole event. By then, Keefe had already convened with the councillors to pass same gender marriage and gotten married to Dex. The law couldn’t exactly do much, it had been a while and no one was injured so any fear of being charged with treason was history.

A few minutes later, Dex trudged into Keefe’s art studio. 

“Hey lovey, do you know where I put the high-power garden clippers?”

“I hope in your lab, but you might want to check the kitchens.”

“Why would they be in the kitchens?”

“Heard some buzzing coming from there and last time I saw the nieces they had frosting all over their faces.”

Chaos ran in the Dizznee family. 

Dex sighed as they heard a loud bang followed by an “Oops.” from downstairs. 

“Gosh if Rex doesn’t pick up his children soon...I won’t do anything but I’ll be sour about it.”

Keefe chuckled. “You might want to go check on them, wouldn’t want them to break your invention. If they haven’t already.”

Dex hummed noncommittally. “Whatcha drawing?”  

“Just a boring landscape...that happens to include a dragon.”

Dex leaned over the easel. “It’s a very pretty boring landscape that happens to include a dragon.”

“Thank you very much, dearest.” Keefe leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Now you may want to actually check on the girls. I don’t think Elwin can heal severed fingers.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As he walked from the room that used to be Cassius’ office he yelled, “Emily! Leah! Please don’t be killing each other-”

Keefe just smiled. He did that a lot nowadays. 

He hoped these days would last forever.